#i think to love is the best thing you can do at any point

[ylangelegy]

so disconnected 📵 jeonghan x reader.

if jeonghan's 'boyfriend material' posts are on point, well— you can thank his girlfriend.

★ jeonghan x social media manager!reader. ★ word count: 2.6k ★ genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff!!!, txt's soobin is mentioned, down bad!jeonghan, jealous!jeonghan. some smau elements. not proofread; we go out swinging, baby. ★ footnotes: "kae if i wake up to a single shred of jeonghan on ur page..." ¡sorpresa, @diamonddaze01! no further notes, your honor.

🎧 now playing: disconnected by 5 seconds of summer — i admit i'm a bit of a fool for playing by the rules, but i've found my sweet escape when i'm alone with you.

Click.

Jeonghan hasn’t even looked up and yet he already knows what he’ll find when he does. Sure enough, when he shifts his weight onto his other foot and glances away from the TikTok he’d been watching— there you are. 

He wishes he could see your beautiful face. Alas, it’s obstructed by the sight that he’s grown used to associating with you. 

Your phone at eye-level; its camera, trained on him. 

“Yah.” His high-pitched bid to feign annoyance is a futile one. Everybody knows that Jeonghan could never be truly irked by you, no matter how masterfully you pushed his buttons sometimes. 

After clicking away for a couple more minutes, you finally lower your phone. 

There you are. 

Jeonghan swears he’s not a sap, not what those people call ‘simps’. But something about your smile always makes him a little weak in the knees, makes him want to be The Best Boyfriend In The World, bar none. 

He gestures for you to come closer. Once you’re within reach, Jeonghan is already wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in.

“Don’t do that,” you snipe as he brings you into his chest. “We’re in public!”

Jeonghan can’t hide the way his eyes roll. “I don’t care. This isn’t public. It’s the parking lot of your apartment building,” he says dryly. 

“Still public.” 

“Still don’t care.” 

You go to shove at Jeonghan’s chest. He responds by tightening his hold on you, a sound of protest rising from the back of his throat. 

“C’mon, just a minute.” He buries his face in the top of your head, breathing in the soothing scent of your shampoo. It makes something in his chest flutter. “I’ll let you go, just— give me a minute, sweetheart.” 

He can sense that your acquiescence is begrudging, but he takes it nonetheless. A win is a win, he thinks smugly as he takes the opportunity to hug you a little tighter. 

It’s been three months since you finally agreed to try dating Jeonghan, though you had insisted that it be kept on the down low. Something about decorum, discretion. Workplace violations? Jeonghan doesn’t really remember; he had been a little too excited at the prospect of finally being yours that he wouldn’t have minded any condition in the world. 

The past weeks have unironically been some of the best in Jeonghan’s life, though there were probably some things he could do without. 

“It’s my day off, you know,” he mumbles into your hair, “which means it should also be your day off.” 

You giggle, and the force of it has your shoulders slightly shaking against Jeonghan’s chest. 

This is how he knows he loves you: Your laughter always felt like a small victory. Even before, he’d crack jokes in staff meetings and his eyes would immediately go to gauge your reaction.  

He liked making you laugh. He liked being the reason behind your smiles. And, God, did he like you. 

“Let me think about it.” There’s a hint of teasing in your voice, followed by a little ‘hmmm’ of faux thoughtfulness. 

He’s about to bite back at you when he feels your hand at his hip, somewhat leaning into his embrace, and he instead channels his energy into holding back a dreamy sigh. You go on, “No, I don’t think so. Go pose by the wall for another picture.” 

Jeonghan leans back a bit, just enough so that you can see his furrowed eyebrows as he whines, “But I’m Daesang winner Yoon Jeonghan!”

The title is a new one. Five days recent, in fact, and Jeonghan is hoping it will cut him some slack. 

“Okay, Daesang winner Yoon Jeonghan,” you say without missing a beat. “Go pose by the wall.” 

Jeonghan peels himself away from you with a grumble. He knows he’s acting a bit like an overgrown child— stomping as he walks, pouting when he leans— but he trusts that you’ll find it endearing. 

You pull out your phone’s camera app. Jeonghan is ready to frown the entire way through, maybe sass you that you only told him to pose by the wall but you didn’t say how he should look. 

But then, instead of “One, two, three…”, you call out something else entirely. 

“I love you, Daesang winner Yoon Jeonghan!”

He can’t help it. 

He laughs, and you click away.

jeonghaniyoo_n ♫ Jesse McCartney - Beautiful Soul

jeonghaniyoo_n hang up the telephone and just be here with me Liked by pledis_boos, vernonline, and 1,932,049 others View all 2,109 comments

One pro of dating your social media manager, Jeonghan would argue, is all the ‘vacations’ that the two of you can go on. You’re there for every tour stop, every concert, and Jeonghan absolutely revels in the hour or two he can steal away with you. 

If only he could get you to stop working. 

He knows that you’re technically on the clock more often than not. Managing an idol’s social media presence was no small feat, and your entire shtick was about making Jeonghan look as desirable as possible on SNS. You’ve been doing a terrific job so far, if his steady rise in followers was anything to go by. 

Still. Jeonghan has been attempting to give you the cold shoulder for the past 15 minutes. Attempting, because you don’t even seem to notice that he’s gone quiet— too busy on your phone to pay him any heed. 

He shoves his hands into his pockets and clears his throat. He doesn’t even have to glance at your screen; he knows you’re probably on Lightroom, fine tuning the press photos of him from earlier this morning. 

At the twenty-minute mark, Jeonghan finally huffs, “I’m ignoring you.” 

“Hm?” you say distractedly, and he resist the urge to chuck your phone into the nearby lake. 

“I said,” he repeats. “I’m ignoring you.” 

You glance up at him, unamused. “You are literally talking to me,” you note. 

“Well, I was ignoring you before that.” 

“Were you?” 

“Yes. You didn’t notice, so I thought I’d inform you.” 

The beleaguered sigh you let out is not a new thing. Jeonghan has been on the receiving end of your exasperation for as long as he’s known you. 

At least there’s a hint of guilt on your expression as you tuck away your phone. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Everybody’s posting follower ranking listicles since it’s the end of the year. I wanted to see where we were placing.” 

Jeonghan is supposed to be sulking, but that small word— we— has him fighting down a smile. It’s his account, his digital footprint, but you’re the mastermind. You’re the one behind the man, the myth, the legend. 

He’s down so bad for you that it’s not even funny anymore. 

“And?” he prods, his earlier chagrin smoothed out into something that sounds a lot more like resigned affection. “How’s it looking?” 

The frustration that takes over your expression makes Jeonghan want to coo. It’s nothing short of a miracle that he manages to hold himself back. 

“We still haven’t beat out Choi Soobin.” You frown like the other idol has personally wronged you by having a higher follower count. “His boyfriend material photos are too damn good.” 

“His what?”

You whip out your phone. Jeonghan watches with growing incredulity as you pull up Instagram, and he’s less than pleased that user page.soobin is already one of your more recently searched accounts. 

When you shove your phone underneath Jeonghan’s nose, he’s treated to the sight of Soobin’s feed. “Boyfriend material photos,” you double down, like having a visual might somehow explain things away. 

Jeonghan snatches your phone from you. “I heard you the first time,” he says irritably. “But what does it mean?” 

“It means that he looks like somebody’s boyfriend,” you shoot back. 

Oh, Jeonghan does not like that. 

He doesn’t care if it’s just a term for a type of photo. The thought of you perceiving anyone else as ‘boyfriend material’ makes a muscle in his jaw tick. 

“Do you think,” he says coolly, keeping his eyes trained on your screen, “he looks like ‘boyfriend material’?” 

“I mean, yeah—” 

You’ve barely gotten to the end of your sentence before Jeonghan is handing you back your phone. “Where are you going?” you call out as he marches a couple of paces away. 

He looks equal part determined and peeved when he turns to face you. You have your eyebrows arched upward, but he’s more focused on making sure his good side is angled towards you. 

“Get some photos of your actual boyfriend,” he grumbles.

jeonghaniyoo_n ♫ ZILD - Lia

jeonghaniyoo_n we put the world away Liked by xuminghao_o, min9yu_k, and 1,000,289 others View all 2,109 comments

The day you tell Jeonghan about your plans of resigning, his first thought is Well, that was good while it lasted.

His attempt at being unaffected is a shaky one. You can tell by the way he holds his paper cup just a little too tightly, the way he keeps smoothing out invisible wrinkles on his coat. His poorly concealed distress makes your expression soften, which is somehow worse.

He didn’t want a civil breakup. He’d much rather go out kicking and screaming than have something amicable.

And he most especially didn’t want to be broken up with in some random café in Tokyo. He has half a mind to ask why you couldn’t have waited until the two of you were back home. 

Jeonghan swallows hard, like it might somehow help him swallow the panic simmering in the pit of his stomach. 

“Good for you,” he finally manages to respond. “You’re overworked here, anyway.” 

“That’s not the reason why I’m leaving.” 

Jeonghan hates how calm you look. The two of you had watched— and judged— one too many dramas, and so he’d imagined a breakup with you would be something like that. A rain-soaked street, choice words that neither of you could take back. 

Not you stirring sugar into your coffee like this is not a relationship-defining conversation. 

When Jeonghan doesn’t respond, you continue. Your voice goes a touch softer, and he’s struck with the fear that you’re trying to let him down gently. 

“I’m resigning because of you, Hannie.” That nickname— the one that once felt like a Daesang in its own right, when you first bestowed it on him— now makes Jeonghan’s heart feel like lead. 

“Because of me,” he repeats. 

His mouth is dry. His hands are clammy. He’s thirty seconds away from getting on his knees and begging you to stay, the rest of the café’s patrons be damned. 

Your next words are spoken like an unshakable truth. “Because I love you.” 

You— 

The look on Jeonghan’s face must be priceless; you start to laugh, and the sound of it eases some of Jeonghan’s fraying nerves. 

“I love you, and I want to be with you. Properly.” Your lips purse for a moment. “Well, as properly as being with an idol will allow, anyway. At least I won’t have to worry about getting called in by HR if I’m working someplace else.” 

Workplace violations. Right. That had been a thing. 

All the emotions hit Jeonghan like a truck. Relief (that you’re not breaking up with him), then affection (that you’re willing to do this for him), then guilt (that you’re willing to do this for him). 

He reaches across the table to place his hand on top of yours. Your eyes instinctively glance around your surroundings, checking to see if anyone is looking your way. Jeonghan tugs at your hand and shakes his head. Focus on me, he’s wordlessly saying, and for once, you do. 

“I love you, too. More than you know,” he says. “But I don’t want you to throw away your career for me. Who’s to say you won’t resent me down the line because of it? I— I couldn’t live with myself, sweetheart.” 

You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand reassuringly. “I’m not throwing anything away. I’m just compromising.” 

“I don’t want you to have to compromise anything for me.” 

“Compromise is part of a grownup relationship, Hannie. It’s a good compromise.” 

He must not look convinced, because you take things a step further. Instead of just clasping his hand in yours, you move to intertwine your fingers. There’s some comfort in the familiar feeling of your fingers in between the spaces of his. 

“Nothing is being thrown away,” you repeat, your tone brooking no argument. “I will not hate you tomorrow because of this.” 

Here’s the thing: Jeonghan trusts you implicitly, and not only with his SNS passwords. He trusts your no-nonsense attitude, your unshakeable feelings, your typically sound judgement. 

He wants to trust you now. He wants to believe so, so badly that there is something on the other side for the two of you, and that something would be exactly what the two of you deserve. 

He tongues the inside of his cheek as he considers your words. When he speaks, his voice is a lot smaller than he intends. 

“What about the day after tomorrow?” 

The initial confusion that flits over your expression is replaced by that grin he adores. 

“I’ll still love you the day after tomorrow,” you promise. 

He presses, “And the week after that?” 

“The week after that, too.” 

“What about the month after?” 

“I’ll do you one better— the year after, too.” 

You’re laughing, laughing in the way that he’s always tried to make you laugh, and it’s all Jeonghan needs to trust that things are going to be okay.

jeonghaniyoo_n ♫ Pritam, Mohit Chauhan, Irshad Kamil - Tum Se Hi

jeonghaniyoo_n my getaway, my favorite place Liked by ho5hi_kwon, everyone_woo, and 2,000,001 others View all 2,109 comments

Click. Click. Click. 

“What are you doing?” 

“What,” Jeonghan huffs, “A guy can’t take photos of his girlfriend?”

You throw a pillow in Jeonghan’s direction, though your terrible aim has it soaring right over his head. 

Ever since you left his company, Jeonghan has enjoyed an array of benefits that come with dating someone who is not your co-worker. The biggest of which happened to be all the time he’s now free to spend with you, most of which he’s happy to kill in his apartment. 

He’s still a little bit petulant about your new job, though, and he likes to voice it out as often as he can. 

“I bet Soobin has tons of photos of you,” he grumbles.

You pretend not to hear him. Jeonghan tries again. 

From the foot of the bed, Jeonghan begins to crawl over your legs. Your annoyed tsk goes ignored as he takes your laptop and sets it aside, dragging you away from your social media planning for page.soobin.

“He better not fall in love with you,” Jeonghan warns.

You let out a low hiss before swatting at your boyfriend, trying to get him off of you. He doesn’t budge, instead caging you in with his arms on either side of you. 

When he goes to kiss you, it bears none of the threatening front that he’s trying to put up. It’s a slow, sweet thing. A glimmer lighting up his cotton sheets. 

He only pulls away when he can no longer physically manage to keep kissing you. There’s the beginning of a grin on his face as his breaths come out in short pants, as his eyes stay closed. He’s savoring the moment, trying to remind himself how damn lucky he is even if the cost involves running his own SNS accounts henceforth. 

“I’ll give you your laptop back,” he murmurs, satisfied to have had an ounce of you.

But then you’re laughing, your fingers threading through his hair. You tug Jeonghan back down despite the fact that you’re just as breathless, and his lips curl into a full-on smile when they meet yours. 

He’d been happy with an ounce, yes, but who is he to complain when you give him the whole damn lot? 

jeonghaniyoo_n ♫ 5 Seconds of Summer - Disconnected

jeonghaniyoo_n Do not disturb. 📵 - YJH Liked by sound_of_coups, joshua_acoustic, and 3,392,034 others View all 30,109 comments

diamonddaze01 NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO ylangelegy just fell to my knees 💔 happy for you, king yourusername :-)

[captain-huggy-bear]

A Little Misunderstanding

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lil' angsty at points, but ends sweet, lots of mutual pining and two idiots not realising the other is also in love with the other, meddling mothers (for the best this time)

Summary: Your parents assume that Quinn, the man you mention over the phone all the time, is in fact your boyfriend. He's very much not, but Quinn thinks its funny to pretend he is...until it gets a little too real and maybe some truths are told and feelings are aired.

Notes: Thank you to the anon who requested fake dating to lovers with Quinn, I had this idea which is a little different from the usual fake dating so I hope its okay and you still like it 😊

Tried to keep it ambiguous as to where the reader originated from so that us UK girlies can relate as well as anyone else not from Vancouver and/or Canada.

Reminder I typically use UK spellings because I'm English so...don't come at me if you wish I spelt it the US away. If I have to read US spellings all the time, you can handle the odd UK spelling

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"When does your flight get in?" You balance your phone between your shoulder and ear, picking up a stray sock that had fallen out of your laundry basket as you attempt to tidy your apartment.

"7am your time, sweetheart, remember?" Your mother's voice rings clear down the line, familiar and warm. It's been a while since you saw either of your parents. You having moved all the way to Vancouver, more miles than you could count from your birthplace and hometown around two years ago. You were excited to have them finally able to come out and stay with you for a week, they'd never been to see you, and it had been a while since you'd been able to see your parents, not having time to fly to see them. While you were glad for the move to Vancouver, living in a completely different place away from your family wasn't always the easiest thing in the world. You so often felt like you were having to fend for yourself without much of a support network. Luckily you'd made some good friends in the time you'd been in Van.

"Quinn offered to come with me to pick you and dad up, we'll be there waiting for you so don't worry about getting an Uber." You dropped Quinn's name casually because that's what it was, he was just another part of your existence. Your friend, who admittedly you had a small crush on, but just your friend nonetheless. Just because you thought he was beautiful and wanted to kiss him didn't mean you were allowed to kiss him or that he'd even want to kiss you. He was a friend who happened to be a man and you both happened to be single. This had not changed for two years and wasn't likely to any time soon.

"Oh, Quinn'll be there?" Your mother's voice was suddenly more upbeat, excited. She'd been eager to meet Quinn for months now, you're not sure why she finally took an interest in one of your friends but you can't help but be glad. Quinn had become a massive part of your life, a support network you very much needed when you'd first come to a strange new place all by yourself. He was part of the fabric of your life now, and you knew he'd charm your parents without even thinking about it. It shouldn't matter to you that your parents like your friend, its not like Quinn was your boyfriend, but it did matter to you. You wanted them to like him as much as you did because you wanted him around for the foreseeable future.

"Yeah, I mentioned you were coming to visit the other day and his car is bigger than mine, so he offered to come along, he has to get up early most days anyway so he's not too bothered by it." It helped that Quinn had a couple of days off, but still you were thankful. He could have spent his rare enough free time doing something much more enjoyable than helping you pick your parents up from the airport.

"Your father and I look forward to meeting him, we've heard so much about him, darling!"

There's something about your mother's tone that makes you stop for a second suddenly feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. Maybe it's just how eager she is or maybe it's something else, but there's a little red flag waving in the back of your mind with some small print on that you just can't quite read yet.

"Right...um, look I'll see you tomorrow morning then? I gotta get everything ready for you guys."

"Of course, of course! We love you!"

"Love you too, mum."

"You're sure you don't mind?" You look over at Quinn from the passenger seat, the two of you look exhausted, big bags under your eyes and even bigger hoodies to hide in because a 5am wake up to get to the airport in time was just a little much for both of you. This early in the morning it's still dark and the streetlights do something to Quinn's face that makes him even more handsome than usual, even as he looks like he might fall back asleep at any minute. It doesn't help that his scruff has grown out or that his hair is in those perfect waves he always seems to get even when he's just taken his bucket off.

"I wouldn't have offered if I did, besides the amount of time we spend together isn't it about time I met your parents? You've met mine." He smiles over at you, cheeky, the sort of Quinn most people didn't see. It's silly that it makes your cheeks feel warm, he's just your friend. You shouldn't be flustered by him.

"Your parents are at as many of your games as possible, of course I've met them."

"So are you. Sue me for wanting to meet the parents of one of my best friends."

"I'm your best friend?" You lean your head back on the headrest, tilting slightly to grin at him all silly. Quinn can see it from the corner of his eye and as much as it's ridiculous, that little grin makes you even more beautiful than normal.

"One of." He rolls his eyes at you, partly because of your silliness and partly rolling his eyes at himself. You're his friend. He shouldn't feel this way about you, men can have female friends...he just can't seem to have you as a female friend without wanting to kiss you at any given opportunity. It's becoming difficult, even more so in the early morning when the low light level puts your face in stark contrast and your hoodie, one of his, makes you look so cozy and sweet.

"That's just your way of avoiding admitting how much you love me and need me in your life."

Quinn's cheeks flush bright red, so bright that even the low light can't hide it nor hide the way he bites back a smile at you, eyes fixed on the road and the last few miles to the airport.

"...Shut up."

The silence that fills the car is comfortable, the sort that comes about from spending so much time together. You have friends that aren't Quinn, of course you do, but Quinn had been your first friend in Vancouver. He'd shown you around and made time for you in his incredibly busy schedule. You were often the first person he saw when he came off a roadie and the last person to see him before he left for one. There were nights when you stayed round Quinn's after a game or vice versa. You spent so much time together that you simply coexisted, being around Quinn was as easy as breathing. You rarely argued or disagreed and when you did it was always resolved properly. You simply worked. There wasn't ever much to think about with Quinn. You could just...shut off.

"Thank you, though...seriously." You take a moment, thinking how to word your next few thoughts, your warning as the signs for the airport come into full view, "Just, my mum seems really eager to meet you so...just brace yourself."

"Eager?"

"You know when your parents are excited to meet a new partner?" You think back to the few times you'd introduced a boyfriend to your mum, the excitement that she exuded...it was starting to concern you that she was that excited to just meet your friend. Because that's all Quinn was. Your friend. Not your boyfriend. Your friend, you remind yourself, even as he looks so good smiling over at you with his beard. He'd let it grow out just enough that he looked rugged and mature.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she's that sort of excited which is really weird...she normally doesn't' care that much about my friends. Just, sorry, if she's really weird about it?" It's awkward enough talking about, you and Quinn have always stayed firmly platonic, you didn't talk about the fact that people assumed you were dating or even the concept of it. Talking about it felt...it felt like you were opening the curtains up, letting him see in a little too far.

"You didn't tell her we were married or something, did you?"

"Quinn! Shut up!" He laughs so loud that you can't actually be that mad at him, not when he's grinning at you like that, not when he's been so stressed as of late about the performance of his team. Even if it's at your expense.

"What? Just checking! For all I know you could have told her we got married in Vegas during one of my games or something?"

"If I'm telling my mum I'm married to you, it'll be because I'm actually married to you, you idiot." You roll your eyes at him, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to look out the window.

"Oh, so you do want to marry me?" He's joking, but he's not...he's thought about it. There's not a day that Quinn hasn't thought about what it would be like to be yours and you be his, not since he met you...and then promptly managed to land himself so far into the friendzone that he was scared to crawl his way out lest he leave you behind in the process.

"...I hate you."

"No you don't." His voice is singsong in intonation and sweet and he's right because you love him and it hurts...god, it hurts how much you love someone you can't have. Someone you see every day, someone who is so deeply ingrained in your life that removing him would be like carving a hole into your own chest.

You just sit and glare at him, even as a heavy sort of sadness hits, as he pulls up into one of the parking bays for collecting passengers.

It's okay that he's just your friend, you remind yourself as you get out of the car. It's okay because he's the best friend you could ask for, he's here at 6.45 am in the morning to collect your parents from the airport, not because he was asked or because he had to, but because he wanted to. You can live with loving him in silence, so long as you always have him around.

"I think they're over this way, probably, near gate 1?" You're just getting your bearings, trying to figure out roughly where your parents will come out at after they find their things from baggage claim when you hear it.

"My baby!" The squeal of a middle aged woman who hasn't seen her daughter in far too long pierces the air. You barely have time to brace yourself for impact before your mother is wrapping you up in a gigantic hug and pressing as many kisses to your face as possible, you know without a doubt her signature mauve lipstick is smudged all across your skin.

Your father stands behind her, rolling his eyes in amusement but the smile he gives you is no less warm, "Hey there, princess."

"Hi, mum, hi, dad," You pull yourself free from your mother just long enough to get a long awaited hug from your father, big and warm and so familiar that you almost feel like crying. How long has it been since you last hugged your dad? Half a year? Nine months? Longer? You sometimes don't realise how much you miss something until you get it back.

When you turn back around your mother is already pulling Quinn into a hug that he accepts, if a tad awkwardly, his hands patting her on the back like he's not quite sure how hugs work.

She has his face in her hands before you can intervene, overly familiar and friendly as she grins up at him like he's made her day just by existing. "You must be Quinn, Y/N's boyfriend..."

"Oh, he's n-" You're pretty sure your eyes bug out of your head, startled by the suggestion because at no point in the last few years of living in Vancouver had you ever called Quinn your boyfriend. Ever.

You're cut off by Quinn who's grinning at you wickedly over the top of your mother's head like he's just been giving the greatest Christmas present he could ever ask for and in that moment you know...you know that he is going to make your life very difficult with this tiny piece of information.

"Yeah, hi, nice to meet, the boyfriend, that's me." God, he wishes it was true. There's nothing more he wants in that moment than to be able to say to your mom that you are 100% his girlfriend, but he can't...he can, however, enjoy the roleplaying while it lasts. He can't really stop himself, not when you look so aghast at your mother calling him your boyfriend, not when he can use this to tease you for at least the next 30 years. He grew up with 2 brothers, sue him for taking advantage of the situation.

"Quinn!"

"What? Am I not allowed to call myself your boyfriend anymore?" He sidles up to you, slipping out from your mother's grip to pull you into his side. His arm rests naturally over your shoulder, yours finding his waist, and it is natural...because you've done this a million times before. The kiss he presses to your hair is new though, different and as much as your mum clearly believes the ruse, you can see your father just looks amused. Something tells you he knows this is all an act, but he finds it enjoyable to watch. Typical. No support from him when you need it most. Dads.

"Oh, she's just grouchy in the mornings, has been ever since she was a baby!" Your mother looks at the two of you with such pride that you're certain her heart actually might break when she finds out Quinn isn't actually your boyfriend. You've never seen her look so happy with your choice in a man before and you're certain she won't be able to cope when you have to inevitably tell her that it was either a) a lie or b) that Quinn just wasn't the guy for you (another lie just to make your life more complicated).

"Mum!"

"Oh don't worry, I know just how grouchy my baby can be in the mornings." This time he presses a kiss to your cheek and when he does, you hiss lowly in his ear, 'I'm going to kill you.' and Quinn can't help but laugh at you, biting his lip at how much fun he's having riling you up.

"Here let me take your bags, Mrs Y/L/N," Quinn's bending down before your mother can even begin to protest, her carry on backpack being slung over his shoulder and pulling up the handle of her suitcase to wheel it behind him.

"Oh, you don't have to, Quinn!"

"I insist." He knows he's making it harder on you, can see the look you give him because he's just going to make your mother fall in love with him. But, even as he enjoys riling you up, he was also raised right and he's not letting your mother carry her own bags.

Your mother hangs back with you while your father and Quinn start walking ahead with the suitcases. She slips her arm through yours walking with you to keep up, as she does so she does a very bad attempt at whispering. The sort of whispering that means you know Quinn can hear every word and is probably enjoying it immensely.

"He's such a gentleman..."

"Yeah, a real gentleman." You mutter sarcastically, watching the way his shoulders rise and fall in a silent laugh that he's no doubt doing his best to swallow down.

"Don't be grumpy, he's just being sweet on you. You should be glad for such a loving boyfriend..." Your mother scolds you before raising her voice back to normal, Quinn and your father slowing down slightly to help keep the four of you together, "So, Quinn, my daughter tells me you're a hockey player?"

"Yeah, you talk about me, baby?" Quinn's grin is wide, and you can't help the warmth that fills your entire face because you can't actually deny it. You talk about Quinn all the time, he's your best friend and whenever your mother phones, you inevitably talk about him. Whether it was a game of his you went to or a coffee place you'd visited together or gala he'd invited you to. Maybe, you talked about him too much? Maybe, it was obvious in the way you talked about him that you loved him? Maybe that's why your mother had made such a large assumption about your relationship status. Maybe this was your fault, why wouldn't she assume you were dating?

"She talks about you all the time. Quinn this, Quinn that...did you know that Quinn did this today and broke this record?"

"Mum..." You groan out, looking to your dad for help but all he does is shrug his shoulders at you, amusement bright in his eyes. Even if he could do something you know he wouldn't because he's clearly enjoying your torture.

Quinn can't help it, the tables seem to reverse. You're embarrassed still, but now he is too, bright red in the face, ears flushed the colour of a fire engine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. All because you talk about him to your parents...you talk about him when he's not around...he feels like a twelve year old, giddy because his crush smiled at him for the first time.

"I play for the NHL."

"Vancouver Canucks, wasn't it?" Your mother asks as the four of you step out into the cold Canadian air, her attention making Quinn squirm and you smile, enjoying the discomfort being swapped around for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm the captain of the team." He smiles at your mother awkwardly as he opens the boot of the car and starts to pile in the suitcases, organising them in just the right way that they fit without hassle.

Your father chimes in as he lifts his own suitcase into the back, Quinn helping him shove it back further, "That's impressive, I used to play field hockey myself, never got out of the amateur league but got a few bruises in my time. You had an injury recently right?"

You still remember phoning your mum to talk about it, at first worried and then over time growing more and more frustrated with how sullen Quinn was being. He'd grown restless from not being able to play hockey and you'd been his distraction, a distraction that had grown fed up with his moping no matter how much you loved him.

"I've had a few this year, most recently my hand." He raises his braced hand, the brace a point of annoyance to him at this point in time. He was itching to be done with it, but put up with it because it meant he could still play hockey at the moment.

"Oh, you shouldn't have been carrying my bag then, Quinn!" Your mother fusses over him, flapping about as if she might have a miracle cure for his hand injury.

"Honestly, it's fine! It looks worse than it is, I promise. I wouldn't get away with it otherwise, this one would kill me." He nods his head at you as he closes the boot, opening one of the backdoors for your mother to slide inside.

"Damn right I'd kill you, I cannot take more days of you moping that you can't play hockey and that you're bored despite my amazing company."

"You know I enjoyed spending time with you, sweetheart...but..."

"But, you can't live without hockey, yeah, I know..."

He follows you round to the passenger side door, opening it for you like a gentleman and letting you slide inside. You find yourself enjoying the attention even as you catch your mother's eye in the rear view mirror, a little smirk reaching her lips as she watches Quinn buckle you in. Something he does from time to time when he's feeling particularly sweet...because he was a good friend.

"So, Quinn, how did you meet our daughter? I'm not sure she ever mentioned it?"

The entire ride home is filled with your mother peppering Quinn with questions, encouraging him to talk more and more about your 'relationship'. Everything from when you first met to the first date you went on (which Quinn told her was the first time he took you ice skating, you were under the impression that that was a friendly family skate event and most certainly not a date).

The conversation lulls while you set your parents up in your spare bedroom, helping them settle themselves and showing them around your apartment. They hadn't ever seen it in person and they spent half the time cooing over your choices, the photos of family and friends on the wall, the ones of you and Quinn, as well as your mother checking your fridge and telling you to buy more vegetables.

It's as you're sitting down to a breakfast of pre-bought croissants and pain au chocolat that your mother restarts her question. This time even more invasive than the first.

"So Quinn, when did you know?"

"Mm? Know what?" Your best friend looks at your mother with furrowed brows, taking a sip of his orange juice and almost choking on it when she proceeds to clarify her question.

"When you loved my daughter."

There's a long beat of silence where your eyes stay fixated on your plate, watching your own hands intently as you spread Nutella inside your croissant, far too focused on that to be anything casual or calm. You're certain you're going to be sick because he doesn't love you but you love him and your poor mother is so oblivious and this...this is going too far, it feels like it's gone too far.

"Expected answer or honest answer?"

"Honest answer."

"The second week I knew her." Your head snaps up with a start only to find Quinn looking directly at you, green eyes crinkling softly at the corners. "She heard that I had been hurt on the ice the night before and she stormed round my apartment with a bunch of food, medicine and a blanket. Spent the whole day looking after me and making me watch 90s movies I hadn't watched growing up. No one outside my family had ever done that for me before...it made me realise that if I wasn't already in love, I would be pretty quick." You almost believe him, the way he looks at you, the way he speaks so softly. Almost.

You look down at your plate, tears welling in your eyes because you know he doesn't mean it. He's spinning a yarn for your mother and it hurts that he would go that far when you both know this is all some ruse he's decided to pull. You swallow hard and take a bite of your croissant, refusing to look at him for the rest of breakfast.

You won't meet his eyes until he goes to leave after breakfast, your parents hanging back so you can say goodbye to your 'boyfriend'.

"Mind if I come over after dinner? We could watch a movie with your parents?"

"Quinn..." You go to challenge him on his behaviour today, but the words won't come out.

"What?"

"Nothing...uh, sure, after dinner?"

"After dinner, baby."

You want to tell him off as he says it, as he presses a kiss to your cheek so your parents can see because you aren't his baby and he's hurting you. He's hurting you without realising it because you so desperately want to be his baby. But, you don't. You just watch him walk away down the corridor of your apartment building and out of sight before getting ready to show your parents around Vancouver for the day.

You try to put the whole thing out of your mind throughout the day, showing your parents the sights of Vancouver, including the arena...but it's hard when they keep bringing Quinn back up and asking about your feelings. They probe you for half the day and it's emotionally exhausting balancing the truth with the half-truth, even more so knowing that they're going to be just as disappointed as you are when they realise your relationship with Quinn is just a sham, a charade, a fake.

Eventually they seem to grow bored of talking about the topic, however, and dinner goes relatively smoothly, you taking them to a nice restaurant Quinn had shown you back in your first couple of months in Vancouver. Even that feels bittersweet though, filled with memories of the two of you dining together. You can't help but feel like the whole issue needs addressing as you get them back home and pop a film on ready for Quinn's arrival.

When he arrives he continues the act as if it isn't one, greeting you at the door with a kiss to the cheek and pulling you down onto the loveseat opposite your parents, curling one arm around your shoulders and urging you to lay against him, your cheek pressed into his chest. In some ways it's familiar, not an act, because you cuddle for movies all time, completely platonically of course, but both of you are touchy feely and it's always been part of your dynamic. In others though? The way he talks to you, the pet names, kisses to your hair, that is all new, all a way to show your parents he's the 'doting boyfriend', even though he's not your boyfriend at all.

Your parents lap it up, every now and then you catch them smiling at each other and then over to the two of you and you can't help but feel heavy with it. With this feeling of unrequited affection. You love Quinn, you've known that for a while now, but it was easy to be around him because you didn't need to address it. You could love him in silence and from afar...you had never considered how hard it would become when what you wanted most was being dangled in front of you like a carrot on a string.

Quinn has a similar dilemma going on in his own head. He's always known he loved you more than a friend, even when you barely knew each other...had he been braver he would have asked for your number for a date that first day, not so that he could show you around a new city as a 'friend'. But, he'd been a coward and since then he'd continued to be. He enjoyed every ounce of affection he got from you, every hug, every cuddle, ever time you held his arm at an event, all while feeling like that had to be enough...now he's had more? He's not sure it'll ever be enough, he's greedy for you. Greedy for your affection, your attention, greedy in the way he wants to keep kissing you, keeping calling you sweet names and greedy for the way you grow bashful. Greedy for more than just being your friend...he's given himself a taste of what life could be like and now he can't forget it.

It's halfway through the movie, your legs slung over Quinn's lap and his fingers carding through the ends of your hair when your parents stand with a groan from the other couch.

"Princess?" You lift your head to look at your father, who's stretching out his back after sitting for so long.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Your mother and I are getting a little tired...we're going to go to bed, if that's alright with you two?"

"Of course, don't let us keep you up." Quinn confirms your own thoughts as well, telling your parents it's not problem at all. It's all so...so domestic.

Your dad presses a kiss to the top of your head, as does your mother, before yourself and Quinn wish them goodnight. You wait until you see the door to the spare room start to close, not waiting for it to do so fully, before turning to Quinn. You pull out of his arms, the missing warmth of you an immediate loss to him, but it has him sitting up straight and taking you seriously.

Your face is sullen, sad, eyebrows pinched, mouth turned down into a frown and he's alarmed to see that your eyes are glassy like you might cry.

"Why on earth would you let my parents think we're dating? Why would you tell my mother you're in love with me?" You're certain you're going to cry, angry, frustrated and sad all in one. Lovesick because it hurts to hear him tell your mother he was in love with you when you know he's not.

"Why not?" He frowns at you, hands reaching out but you keep just out of reach as if touching him is the last thing you want. You've never shied away from Quinn's touch and he recoils, breathing a little heavier out of anxious worry that he's upset you, that he's fucked this up. Maybe you've been uncomfortable with his touch all day? Has he been making you uncomfortable all day? Is he one of those guys?

"Because we're not dating and you're not in love with me, Quinn. My mother is certain we're going to get married and I'll stop being an old spinster! You're getting her hopes up." The unspoken words lay heavy on your tongue, 'you're getting my hopes up', you want to say.

"Who said I didn't love you? Who said I didn't want to marry you?" The look he gives you isn't the cheeky one he's had all day, it's not joking or silly, it's dead serious. He scoots closer to you, but doesn't reach out for you this time. But, Quinn can't help but want to be close to you, to be drawn into your orbit, into your gravity.

"Quinn..."

"What?"

"You're being mean..." Your voice is filled with tears, wet, pathetic sounding and you choke back a sob as a tear falls down your cheek because he's being so mean...he can't dangle that in front of you, everything you've ever wanted, not when he doesn't actually mean it.

He realises in that moment that you don't believe him. You believe he's spent the entire morning and evening telling lies, saying that he loves you when he doesn't, that you're that important to him when you aren't. You believe he's being mean because you don't believe him, that the tears are because you think he's holding this thing, this idea out in front of you, only to snatch it away.

"Look, I said a lot today...but none of it was a lie." He can't help himself this time, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away that pesky tear that shouldn't have been there in the first place. It's the way you lean into his touch that brings him a sense of confidence, of relief, you wouldn't do that if you didn't want him touching you.

"I know our first date wasn't a date, just a stupid family skate I was too scared to ask you out to as more than just a friend. I wish it had been a date and I wish I had been brave enough from the start to tell you I didn't just want to be your friend."

"Quinn..."

"And I was telling the truth...when your mother asked me when I fell in love with you." He tugs you closer, until your legs are back over his lap and your practically sitting on top of him, arms wrapping around your lower back and pulling you closer. The way he stares up at you is nothing short of reverent.

"Q..."

"The second week we knew each other you came to look after me when no one else did...and I knew...I knew that I was going to love you and that I was stupid for not asking you out in the first place...but I was...I was too scared to say anything. I didn't want to lose my new friend...I thought..." He hesitates, tongue coming out to nervously brush against his bottom lip, capturing your attention like a magpie with a shiny button.

"You thought?" You're whispering, quiet as if to speak any louder might scare him, might disrupt this little bubble you've found yourself in.

"I thought having a tiny bit of you...any bit, was better than having none of you at all." Quinn confesses, shifting you on his lap as your legs fall either side of his hips until you're so close your noses brush.

"Is it?"

"It was...for a bit..." It's self-deprecating, sardonic, like he finds himself ridiculous, foolish.

"And now?"

"And now I've had a taste of what it's like to love you, to be able to kiss you and hold you...call you mine...and now I'm greedy and it's not enough...Baby, it'll never be enough."

"You...you love me?" It's like even after all of this, everything he's said, every tender touch, you still don't quite believe him. It's hard to believe that everything you've ever wanted is sat in the palm of your hand just waiting for you to capture it, to take it. That your feelings, the ones you believed were unrequited for two years, were actually returned all along.

"I love you...and...um, if...if you'll have me, maybe I could be your real boyfriend this time?" His face is bright red, so warm to the touch when you're fingers reach out to trace his cheeks that you're surprised he doesn't combust.

"I'd like that...I...I love you too,"

"So...I'm your boyfriend?" He says it like he doesn't quite believe it, the beauty mark on his cheek moving as he grins up at you giddy like a little kid getting his first bag of sweets.

"You're my boyfriend." You press a kiss to that beauty mark without overthinking it...because you can now, because now it's not a lie when you tell your parents he's your boyfriend, because now you're allowed to kiss him and hold him and tell him how much you love him.

"Fuck...that sounds good."

He can't help but just stare up at you from where you're straddling his lap. The healthy glow to your skin, the soft smile directed down at him, the way you seem to curl into him like you're not close enough even now. God, you're beautiful and you're his...you're finally his and he's yours and...and he can't comprehend that the thing he wanted to happen for so long has finally happened. What had he been scared of all this time? He could have been with you for two years, instead he'd squandered it out of fear...

"Quinn?" Your voice is soft, melodic, so so sweet that almost closes his eyes at the sound.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Kiss me?" You whisper as if it's shameful to ask, as if you've asked for something more sordid than a simple kiss...your first kiss together at that.

"Anything for my girl."

He's gentle in the way he cups your neck and jaw with one large hand, thumb pressing just below your jaw bone as he pulls you in. There's nothing rushed about the way Quinn presses your lips together, the smooth glide of his bottom lip against your top. Even the way his tongue brushes against your lip until you open up for him is slow, steady, adoring. You can't help the way you sigh into him, fingers gliding through dark chocolate strands, eyes closing shut with the sense of home, sense of relief that you find in him.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other, slow kisses, wandering hands, nothing too extreme, but a new found intimacy that you're finally allowed to indulge in before you curl back up together to watch the remainder of the movie. Watch being a loose term for what you're really doing.

"Did you know?" Your father turns his eyes away from the scene outside the spare bedroom, the way you're curled up in Quinn's arms like you were always supposed to be there. Neither of you realising that the spare bedroom door had never fully closed, both your parents eavesdropping like Samwise Gamgee.

"That they weren't actually together, dear?" Your mother looks sly and devious as she looks over at her husband. The face of the woman he loves, but also fears in equal measure.

"Yes."

"Of course I knew...but I figured they could both use a shove in the right direction, I mean, look at them?" Your parents both turn to watch the two of you, the way you curl up together on the couch is the epitome of young love. There's no real watching of a movie happening, instead Quinn's fingers are rubbing circles into your shoulder, while you look up at him lovingly from where you're curled against his chest. Every now and then he dips his head down to press a kiss against your forehead, and each time you giggle, face pressing briefly into his neck. The giddy feeling of a new, fresh love, making film watching the least of your interests.

"They just needed a little push." Both your parents smile at each other even as your father playfully scolds his wife, "You're a meddlesome woman."

"And you love me for it."

"Yes, yes I do."

Perhaps it took a bit of meddling, a fake misunderstanding, but that would be their little secret...at least for now. Your mother was rather looking forward to seeing you squirm in the future as you reveal the truth, that you hadn't actually been dating Quinn as long as you said. Yes, she certainly was happy to help, but she also was still your mother and lying to your mother was certainly not the done thing. A little squirming was good for you sometimes, but first, she'd let you enjoy the fresh bloom of love...and she'd go easy on you.

[impish-baby]

A few glimpses into 'both arms cradle you now' reader's childhood in no particular order

"Why do birds suddenly appear evertime you are near.." The wet tears running down your cheeks are gently brushed away, whatever nightmare plaguing your sleep seems so far away now that your dad is here. "Just like me, they long to be close to you.." Damien hoists you into his arms, still humming that familiar lullaby as he carries you to the kitchen.

"Why do stars fall from the sky every time you walk by.." You're set on top of the counter, Damien ruffling your hair softly before walking over to the fridge to fetch a carton of milk. "Just like me.. they long to be.. close to you.." The warm glow of the stove makes the quiet night more cozy, the shadows along the walls retreating as well as any lingering fear.

You can feel you eyes start to droop, a small yawn leaving your lips making the man chuckle fondly. "One sec, ok? Daddy has some angel milk for you so you don't have anymore bad dreams, then we'll get you tucked back into bed."

-

"Do you want to hold him, sweetie?" Not really, but a nudge to your shoulder has you taking a reluctant step forward anyway. You're not sure how to feel about him, he's your dad's but not your mom's.

Mary scoots over a little so you can climb up on the hospital bed next to her, a tired but kind smile on her face. "Here, it's ok, you just need to make sure you're supporting his head.." She helps guide your arms into the right position, placing the tiny buddle into them, a pair of equally tiny disgruntled blue eyes soon staring up at you.

When you were first told that your stepmom was pregnant, you tried really really hard to just be happy for them. You promise. The sinking dread never went away though, no matter how much you berated yourself for feeling that way.

Babies are a blessing, but the announcement only cemented the fact that the world as you knew it was ending. Your dad isn't just your dad anymore. Even then, he hasn't acted like one to you in a while. Maybe you were just denying the inevitable.

"Ohh, I think he likes you.." Mary's head rests on your shoulder suddenly, distracting you from your sullen thoughts. "See? You're a natural with little ones!"

"He's glaring at me.."

She laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as she sits up. "No, he's just getting used to the world, darling. He loves you, he knows he has the best older sibling he could ask for."

-

"What's even the point?" You're both supposed to be sleeping even though it isn't a school night, Aunt Lisa is strict when it comes to things like that. What she doesn't know won't hurt her though.

"Because they look cool," Avery shrugs, carful of the fact you're currently snuggled under one of his arms. "And you get bragging points for catching them." You still don't get it, they're the same thing just a different color. "You've watched me play for like an hour, and now you're bored?"

"You were actually doing stuff before.." You huff, "You've been going around in a circle for fifteen minutes."

You scoff at his comment, now filled with spite to actually beat the game. You've barely moved an inch before the battle music plays, a black and purple pumpkaboo greeting you. "Oh, um..

"I

Well, excuse me," Avery sniffs playfully, "You play since I'm not entertaining enough." The console is handed over to you, the older boy simply holding you closer. "I bet you lose the first match you try."

"Huh?" Avery sighs, quickly pouting when he looks back at the screen. "Seriously? Damm, you're lucky." He pokes your cheek, "You catch it for me and I'll buy you some fries tomorrow."

-

"You're so annoying!"

With how hard you hit the ground, you know you're going to bruise. You weren't even talking, you just wanted to hang out with them.

"Seriously, who even wanted you to come over? I sure didn't!" No matter what you do, Lizzie doesn't like you. Doesn't matter if you're as friendly as can be or give her some space, you're always doing something wrong. "You're wasting good air, you know?"

"M' sorry, didn't mean to bother you." You won't cry, you're too old for that. "Liz-"

"You didn't mean to? Yeah, right!" Lizzie scoffs, kicking dirt into your face. Dust immediately stings your eyes. "You're a pest! No wonder everyone calls you bug, you're clingy like a tick, a parasite."

Your feeble attempt to rub the dirt away isn't really helping, you can barely hold your eyes open enough to look up at her. Miles isn't going to do anything to help either, silently supporting his sister.

"No wonder your dad left you! And your mom, she must be insufferable if you're her kid-"

You don't know when you managed to get up on your feet or when you grabbed a handful of Lizzie's hair. On the bright side, it makes her shut up.

"Hey!"

Your dad emerges from the house, miles trailing behind him. Of course.

"What has gotten into you?" You've let the older girl go at this point, she wasn't even crying until he came outside.

"Ow, dad.." Lizzie hides behind Damien, flashing you a smirk. "I wasn't even doing anything and they decided to be mean.."

Any inking of doubt you had evaporates in an instant. You don't have a dad anymore, you haven't in years.

"God.." He crosses his arms, the stern look would have made you wince if you weren't already shaking. "Don't even try to give me any excuses, Miles told me what happened. You can wait out here for your mom to pick you up since you can't behave yourself. I thought you knew better."

-

"Can you at least try to eat half, please?"

Your plate sits almost entirely untouched, having just been picked at over the course of dinner. Your mom's worried frown won't leave her face. "You're still a growing kid, I don't like how many meals you've tried to skip."

"I'm not hungry." You really aren't, there's always a nauseous feeling in your gut these days. "I'll eat a snack later, don't worry, mom."

"Baby.." She pinches the bridge of her nose and you feel a pang of guilt for how stressed she must be. "Please? For mommy? Or at least talk to me about what's going on.. i- it hurts seeing you so sad all the time."

What are you supposed to say to that?

Against your will, there's tears starting to drip down your cheeks. You don't think you've ever seen the women move so fast, her chair clattering to the floor in her rush to go to your side. "Oh, my baby.."

"I- I'm sorry.." For what you don't know, maybe the fact that she's stuck with you. "I- I'm so sorry, mom-"

"Oh, hush.." You're too big for her to carry, you both know, but she still scoops you into her arms. "There's nothing in the world you need to apologize to me for."

You sniffle, tucking your head under her chin. "I- I don't want to see dad anymore.. or.. or hear about him or-"

"Shhh.." She runs a hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe you, "you don't have to, alright? We'll figure it out. If that's what you want, you won't ever have to see him again."

(a/n: some ramblings while I start writing the second part to the series..reader will continue to go through it)

[raven-dor]

i wanna be yours

in which gwayne hightower is entranced by his sister’s best friend

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x fem!reader, alicent hightower x PLATONIC!reader, rhaenyra targaryen x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, young love, obliviousness, denial, delusion, slight angst, FLUFF ENDING

WORD COUNT: 6.4k

AN: sorry for how long this is!!

“Come along, Y/N!” Rhaenyra yelled. “The flowers will still be there when we return.” 

“Very well, Your Highness.” She sighed, hooking her arm through the princesses. “They only bloom once a year. I am simply taking in their beauty before they wilt.” 

“I understand. Unfortunately for you, I now need a chaperone to walk my own halls, as every lord in the land vies for my hand.” 

“Oh, poor poor Rhaenyra.” Y/N teased. “I can only imagine.” 

“Rhaenyra, Y/N!” The girls turned around, Alicent running toward them with a young man in tow. 

Y/N leaned over, whispering in Rhaenyra’s ear. “It seems even your own friends are playing matchmaker.” 

Rhaenyra laughed, coughing to cover it up. Alicent looked suspiciously at Y/N. “What have you done?” 

“Nothing, Alicent, nothing at all.” 

“Oh, never mind.” She pulled the man forward. “May I introduce my brother, Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown. He’s just arrived for the tourney.” 

Alicent’s brother was handsome: tall, with auburn hair and deep blue eyes. One could tell from a single glance he and Alicent were related. Freckles adorned his face, and Y/N could only assume it was from his ample time outdoors. She curtsied quickly, staring at the ground. 

Rhaenyra smiled politely. “Ser Hightower.”  

Gwayne bowed, kissing Rhaenyra’s hand. “Princess.” 

Protocol regarding courting was odd and often confusing. With different social statuses came different rules. The Princess was the highest ranking of the two girls before him; thus, he would kiss Rhaenyra’s hand last. It was an honest mistake, a lapse in judgment, Y/N was sure. Odd, she’d thought to herself, she assumed that Gwayne was taught these sorts of things. 

Her eyes drifted back to his, holding back a gasp as he extended his hand to her, after Rhaenyra. She placed hers in his palm hesitantly. He bowed once more, his hold gentle, like he was scared to break her. His lips were soft, and her cheeks turned bright red from the touch, eyes wide with shock. 

She realized, amid her thinking, that Alicent and Rhaenyra had been taunting her, much too entertained by this simple encounter. Y/N ripped her hand away; any passerby would have thought it was on fire. 

“My lady.” 

She’d almost frowned. “I am no lady, Ser.” Entertaining the thought of him would only come back to haunt her, she told herself. The entire point of the tourney was to field potential suitors for the Princess, none were here for the ward of the crown, an orphaned bastard in her own right. He was attractive, there was no denying it. The way his eyes twinkled, or the way his hair fell over his eyes, or when his smile- 

“Oh?” The young man frowned, his voice snapping her back to life. Her cheeks were still flushed. This avoiding business would prove to be harder than she previously thought. “My mistake. You are the very picture of a lady, I must say.” 

Their spectators gasped. Y/N scoffed. “Do not think you can mock me, Ser.” She tightened her hold on Rhaenyra’s arm. “If you will excuse us…” 

Not bothering to wait for a response, she turned around, dragging the princess along with her. Rhaenyra whispered, nudging her friend. “I believe he was smitten.” 

Y/N shook her head. “And I believe it was all a game, most likely a way to make you jealous.” Her heart clenched at the thought. “Just a game.” 

Rhaenyra’s room was a disaster, but when had it not been? 

For as long as either of the Princess’s companions could remember, her suite had been covered with gowns and riding suits thrown haphazardly on the floor. 

Not that either of the other girls cared, they were happy to lay on the Princess’s plush cushions, taking in the sun as it filled the room. Y/N’s head hung off the sofa, laughing as her friend ran through her closet. “If it were any larger, you would get lost inside.” 

Rhaenyra stuck her tongue out. “I would be content with just my riding suit, thank you very much.” 

Alicent laughed. “You know you’d rather die than look simple. You live for fine silks and designs-” 

Y/N nodded, doing her best to imitate the Princess. “Oh Y/N fetch the purple dress, will you? Fetch the red dress! No, not that one. The one with the jewels. No not that one, the other-” A pillow slammed against her face, and she giggled, holding her hands up defensively. “Mercy, I beg of you!” 

“You could have had all this.” Rhaenyra sat beside the girl, whispering. “If my father simply acknowledged-” 

“That my mother gave birth to me out of wedlock? No amount of Targaryen blood can excuse that dishonor.” Y/N sat up, frowning. “It does no good to dwell, Rhaenyra. Besides, I am content with the life I lead, spending time with my favorite cousin.” 

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. “I am your only cousin.” 

“Not true.” She laughed. “There is Daemon and-” 

“My brother seems rather taken with you, I must say.” Y/N’s heart broke at the thought of Gwayne being smitten with Rhaenyra. 

Why, she could not quite place. “Hear that ‘Nyra? I told you I was-” 

“I was talking to you, Y/N,” Alicent smirked.

Her cheeks grew hot, her hands itching to cover her face. “You must be mistaken.” 

“Do you truly think so little of him?” The auburn-haired girl reached out, grabbing Y/N’s hand comfortingly. “I assure you, he is honorable and loyal to a fault.” 

“I am sure he is.” Y/N smiled. “He must be leaving soon, now that the tournament is nearly over.”

Rhaenyra smirked. “I must say, it was not as extensive as I would have liked.” 

“Really?” Y/N laughed. “It has already been a fortnight since its beginning.” 

“And if the Princess feels it is not finished…” Rhaenyra wiggled her eyebrows. “The Princess will announce an extension.” 

Alicent giggled. “Or rather your father.” 

“My lady.” 

She’d almost escaped. Y/N sighed, turning around. “My lord.”

She had seen the man following her for quite a while, hoping that he was merely visiting the library. She bowed quickly. “How may I be of service?” Lord Frey’s scent could make a man grown faint. She felt the bile rise as he took a step closer, whispering.

“I was wondering if you could put in a word with your Princess.” 

She nodded. “What would you like me to relay?” 

“Well-” His ‘kind’ facade was cracking. If he could barely handle a simple question, she doubted Rhaenyra would enjoy him. “If you could-” 

“My lady.” Her heart fluttered at the sight of Gwyane Hightower, his hair bouncing as he walked toward her. “I’ve been waiting. We agreed to meet in the gardens.” 

“I am sorry.” She smiled, genuinely smiled. “I was simply talking to Lord Frey.” She looked back to the older man, urging him to continue. “You were saying, my lord?” 

He gritted his teeth. “It is of no consequence. I shall take my leave.” He bowed. “My lady. Ser Hightower.” 

“Lord Frey,” Gwayne replied, waiting until he had rounded the corner. “Always a pleasure.” 

Y/N fought the urge to laugh. She walked past the young knight, her heart beating faster as he diligently followed after her. “Do you not have somewhere to be, my lord?” 

“As I said, I have been waiting for you.”

She scoffed. “I must say, you are the very picture of a knight. Saving a damsel in distress? How chivalrous.” 

He smiled, bowing sarcastically. “Thank you, my lady.” 

“I am not a-”

“A lady. You have said.” He grabbed a book from the shelf, pretending to read it before throwing it over his shoulder. She rolled her eyes, walking around him to pick up the book he’d discarded. The maester would have her head if he found it lying there. “I must say, a lady has never been so-” He laughed as she opened her mouth to correct him. “So unmoved by my advances.” 

“I’m sorry to disappoint. If you’ll excuse me-” 

“What are you doing with the remainder of your day, I wonder.”

“Why?”

“I would like a proper tour of the castle, and my sister has been too busy as of late.” He looked too eager, too eager to spend time with a mere lady in waiting. “Would you care to show me?”  

“I would not.” 

“Wonderful. I will-” He stopped. “I beg your pardon?” 

“I said, I would not.” She put the last book away, climbing up the ladder. “It is quite cruel, this game you are playing.”

“I am sorry?” He tilted his head. 

“I know this is a ploy to gain Rhaenyra’s favor, to win the tourney, and possibly win your father’s approval.” She scoffed, eyes watery at the thought of yet another man using her to gain advantage. “This is by far the cruelest way, I must tell you.” 

He laughed, actually laughed at her, which only angered her further, tears falling as a result. He stopped his laughing, reaching out to comfort her, frowning when she stepped back. “Do you really think I am using you for your lady’s hand?” 

“I do.” She climbed back down from the ladder, ignoring the way he held it from wavering beneath her. “There is no reason for you to be interested in me.” 

He shook his head as if he’d misheard her. “Are you aware you are beautiful?” 

Y/N ignored that comment, facing him with pleading eyes. “Please spare me from your taunts. I understand that you may- you may find it amusing-” 

Gwayne was confused, extremely, and utterly confused. He had just complimented her, why was she asking him to spare her? “I must make this clear and simple, as you seem to get the wrong impression from me. I am not interested in your lady. I am interested in-”

“Every suitor I have encountered has gone through either myself or Alicent to gain Rhaenyra’s favor. By the gods-” She flailed her arms. “Some even go to me inquiring about your sister!”  

He practically growled, her heart leaping from the sound. “Then they are cowards.”

“Yes, well…” She had to leave before her resolve broke. “My lord.” 

“Do you let anyone other than yourself speak?” 

Y/N gasped, whipping around. “Excuse me?” 

“I have been trying to explain myself to you, to tell you that-” He stopped himself. “So far every attempt has been overpowered by you.” He crossed his arms, a smirk gracing his lips. “Now…” His voice was practically a whisper. “May I speak?” 

“I-” She swallowed, nodding. She did not trust her voice when he looked at her so… so longingly?

“The outing I suggested earlier, would simply be a tour, nothing more.” He took her hand in his. “Nothing untoward will come of it, I swear to you.” 

He looked sincere. So sincere that she began to consider it. “We will need a chaperone. The king would not allow me to go off alone, even with a knight.” 

“The king?” Gwayne was intrigued. “Exactly why would the king care?” 

“Because I am a ward of the crown. I have been since I was born. My mother was a-” She stopped herself. “She was a close friend of King Jaehaerys, and he took me in. King Viserys has been gracious enough to let me stay.” 

“Well, then I shall have to thank him.” 

“For?” 

“If it had not been for him…” He reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “We would have never met.” 

She rolled her eyes, pulling herself out of his hold. “I shall see you tomorrow, my lord.” 

He grinned, calling after her. “I look forward to it!” 

Gwayne smiled as he watched the woman in front of him. She was glowing in this light and practically skipping through the gardens with joy. It was funny, seeing a woman he had often seen as melancholy at best so energetic. “Do you often find yourself at peace here?” 

“I do.” Y/N nodded. “I was told my mother loved the gardens, I suppose I feel she is still with me when I am here.” 

“Did you know her?” Gwayne inquired. “Your mother, that is.” 

“She died when I was a babe.” She leaned forward, taking in the scent of the roses in front of her. “I have glimpses of her. She had bright eyes, bright hair. Her laugh was the most beautiful melody you could ever hear. At least…” She drifted off, staring at the ground. “From what I can remember.”  

“I have the same.” His voice was quiet. “Although, my mother died when I was eight years of age.” 

“That’s awful.” She frowned. “Alicent told me she had died, but not how old you’d been. That must have been worse, I suppose. Having known her, and then in a moment, gone.” 

He shrugged. “My mother was… less than maternal. She had always been one for court and fashion rather than her children.” 

“Ah.”

“Still, it hurt. Me more than Alicent, I suppose. She’d only been four years old.” 

She ached to reach out and hold him. “I am sorry.” 

“For?” 

“Reliving the past.” 

“If I remember correctly…” He plucked a nearby daisy, placing it behind her ear ever so delicately. “I found this topic of conversation.” 

“Yes well…” She smiled, leaning into his touch ever so slightly. “Still…” 

He leaned forward, his breath hitting her nose. “I am sure your mother would be proud.” 

To that, Y/N laughed. “She was always the adventurous sort, at least, that is what I’ve gathered from the stories. She was highly admired too, beautiful…” She looked down, picking at the skin around her thumb. “I hope to be half the woman she was.” 

“You are.” He whispered, holding her hand. He had noticed, much to his dismay, that she’d adopted the habit of picking at her skin. It hurt him, to see her do that to herself. 

His sister did the same.

Her heart stopped, looking up to meet his gaze. He was beautiful. Staring into his eyes, she began to realize how inappropriate of a position they were in. 

Where was their chaperone? She took a step back, forgetting the rose bush behind her. Yelping, she jumped forward, falling into his arms. 

Gwayne laughed, throwing his head back. “Have I startled you?” 

She scoffed, pushing him away. “Not at all. I simply remembered we have much more of the tour to get through.” She darted around him, leading the way out of the garden. “Now, come along.” 

“Yes sir,” Gwayne muttered, mockingly saluting. 

She looked behind her, a smile gracing her lips. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” His pace quickened until they were side by side. “Simply admiring your hospitality.” 

She shoved his arm, rolling her eyes. “Ever the jester.” 

The remainder of their day passed quickly, much quicker than Y/N would have liked. By the end, she came to realize that the noble knight was a near-perfect companion. Serious when required, a jester when the moment called for it, he was kind, and a good man. 

Their last moments had been silent, soaking in the dull roar around them. Every so often, their hands grazed, neither daring to reach out. The sunset with the perfect blend of orange and pink, the waves crashing against King Landing’s rocky cliffs. It made Y/N smile, the way it brought out the red in Gwayne’s hair. She whispered, the words barely leaving her. “You’re hair is the most perfect shade. Have you noticed?” His cheeks turned red, and she smirked, taking his silence as a no. “If only it were transferable.” 

That had made him laugh. “Have you just given me a compliment?” 

She laughed. “We are friends, are we not?” The night was coming to an end, her door just a few paces away. “Friends compliment each other.” 

His shoulders visibly deflated, but he smiled nonetheless. “Yes. Friends compliment each other.” Silence fell over them again, neither daring to speak until she’d reached for her door. His hand grabbed her wrist, holding her just so. 

His voice was raspy, quiet enough the breeze itself could have carried it away. “You are perfection itself.” Her cheeks were bright red, and she grew grateful he could not see her, knowing that she would surely become the subject of his jests if he saw her blush. “As your friend…” 

She nodded, smiling to herself as she pushed the door open, his hold releasing her wrist. “Goodnight, my lord.” 

“My friends do not call me my lord.” 

She turned around, curtsying ever so lightly. “Then goodnight, Gwayne.” 

He bowed, kissing the back of her hand. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

“Are you not terribly tired of reading?”

“If I was tired of it, I would not still be doing it, now would I?” 

Gwayne groaned, rolling over on their shared blanket, staring at the sky. “One should not confine themselves to a book when the whole world is sitting in front of them.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, setting the book down in her lap. “I will have you know I am not confining myself.” 

“Oh?” He laughed, his eyes closing. “Then what exactly are you doing?” “I was trying to relax.” She murmured. “Something I can never seem to do when you are present.” 

“What was that?” His smirk was growing increasingly mischievous, and she knew that he had heard her. 

“I will not repeat myself. You heard me.” Grabbing her book out of her lap, she opened its pages once more. “Now hush. This is the best part.” 

“Read it to me then.” He closed his eyes, laying beside her. “I would like to hear what is so interesting it has taken you away from me.” 

“It was you who suggested the picnic, Gwayne, not I.” She laughed. “They are supposed to be tranquil.” 

“Maybe in King’s Landing.” He muttered. “In Oldtown, they are supposed to be fun.” 

“Well, I am not from Oldtown, nor are we there, which could imply why I was unaware of your customs. Which could also explain how we have reached this argument.” 

His eyebrows raised. “Is this an argument?” 

She ignored him, mumbling to herself. “This is fun.” 

“Well, it would be.” He teased. “If you read to me.” 

“You jest.” She mumbled. “Now let me sit in peace.” 

He stood up, walking behind her just to sit down once more. “May I?” 

“May you what, exactly?” Her cheeks felt hot, he had this effect on her. 

“Alicent once taught me to plait hair, when she was young.” He smiled to himself. “I assume it was a self-serving act, but still.” He leaned forward, his voice causing goosebumps to run up her spine. “At least let me pass the time this way.” 

“Fine.” Y/N could never say no to him, no matter how hard she tried. “Do not make me look hideous.” 

“That…” He pulled out the pins that held her hair elegantly. “Is not possible.” Her cheeks flushed, ignoring that compliment. “Are you attending the tourney tomorrow?” 

Y/N nodded. “I must. Rhaenyra has insisted I attend as her lady-in-waiting.” She laughed. “It is quite odd.” 

“How so?” 

“She has never required that of me before.” 

Gwayne grinned. “Well, I shall enjoy knowing you are watching.” 

“Really?” She laughed again. “I thought you would enjoy it more if I had not attended. Then you could recount the story as outlandishly as you pleased.” 

“Y/N…” His voice sounded desperate, and her heart skipped. “If you do not wish to attend, I’m sure the Princess will understand.” 

“No!” She practically yelped. “I want to.”

He smiled, his blush growing darker. “Then I shall do my very best.” His fingers grazed her neck, a gasp leaving her lips before she could silence herself. Gwayne made no comment of it, simply finishing the braid and standing up, extending his hand. 

She glared playfully, standing up of her own accord. She knelt, picking up the blanket and folding it haphazardly. 

“Let me.” Gwayne took the blanket and basket from her arms, carrying them back up to the castle. “A lady should never carry such things.” 

“A basket and blanket?” She raised an eyebrow. “I am not weak.” 

“I know.” He smiled, enjoying the fire in her eyes. “You are decidedly, not weak.” 

She nodded, puffing her chest. “If we walk any slower, you shall be late.” 

He groaned. “Why must I attend this soiree?” 

“Because it is meant for you. For knights participating in the tourney, that is. Rhaenyra will be there, as will her father-” 

“And will you?” Gwayne interrupted. “Be in attendance?” 

“I shall.” She smiled brightly. “Now come along and follow after me closely.” 

He tilted his head. “Where are you taking me, exactly?” 

“Maegor’s tunnels.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “They were made as an escape plan. Now the servants use them to move around the castle unseen.” The corridor was dark, the lanterns doing little to illuminate the path. 

Gwayne felt a chill run down his spine, and he reached out, grabbing her hand. “Are you quite sure this is safe?” 

“I have used them my whole life.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “Trust me.” 

He smiled, all fears of imminent doom leaving him as her skin touched his. “Lead the way.”

“You are going to break my hand.” Rhaenyra hissed. 

Y/N smiled guiltily, releasing the Princess's hand. “My apologies, Princess.” She straightened the fabric of her dress, sitting tall. “I am simply excited. I love tourneys.” 

“You do not. You have not been to a tourney since we were ten years of age.” 

“Untrue,” Y/N muttered, looking over the edge of the box for her knight. “I am simply busy.” 

“With what?” Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow. “Who are you looking for anyhow?” 

Alicent sat on the other side of the Princess, leaning forward and wiggling her eyebrows. “I believe she is looking for my brother.” 

Rhaenyra grinned. “Has that-” Alicent elbowed the Princess, widening her eyes. 

Y/N tilted her head. “What was that?” 

“Nothing,” Rhaenyra muttered, holding her side. “Nothing.” 

A knight approached the royal box, and Y/N grinned, waiting for Rhaenyra to stand first, as was customary. Rhaenyra smirked, looking at Alicent quickly before approaching the ledge. “Ser Hightower.” Alicent and Y/N approached second, arm in arm. Curstying quickly, she smiled at Gwayne brightly. The knight nodded his head. “Your Highness.” He turned to Y/N, his eyes softening. “My lady.” 

“Ser Hightower.” Y/N greeted. “This is quite the tourney. I’m impressed.” 

He grinned. “May I-” He swallowed. “May I have the honor of wearing your favor?” 

Her cheeks grew bright red. “You-” She looked at Rhaenyra. “Do you not-” 

He laughed. “I believe it is quite obvious I do not.” 

Rhaenyra laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. She leaned over, whispering in her cousin’s ear. “This is when you give the man your favor, Y/N.” 

“But, I-” She turned back to Gwayne once more. “Are you quite sure?” 

He nodded, cheeks slightly flushed. “Yes, my lady.” 

She turned around, pulling her arm out of Alicent’s. As she was a bastard, her house colors were unknown, opting to simply decorate the ring with her favorite flowers. 

Of course, Rhaneyra and Y/N had known, but to blatantly defy the order of the king… she locked eyes with King Viserys, who was gazing at her curiously. Her eyes darted to the floor, turning back around.  “May your luck bring you to victory, Ser Hightower.” 

“As long as I have you to think of…” He looked positively giddy. “I shall never lose.” 

Y/N was sure her cheeks were bright red. She rolled her eyes, ignoring his compliment. 

Her heart twisted, knowing that they could never marry, as who would allow their firstborn son, their heir, to wed a bastard? She pushed his lance playfully, pulling herself out of her thoughts. “Go on, then.” 

“You look stunning.” Alicent smiled, placing her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “The very picture of a lady.” 

Y/N’s cheeks flushed. “I cannot name a time I have dressed so…” She smiled. “So elegantly.” 

“It is a ball,” Rhaenyra interjected. “I will not have my dear friend in something drab.” 

Alicent glared, and Rhaenyra stuck her tongue out. “She knows I do not mean that she is drab. I was simply-” 

“It is alright, Rhaenyra.” Y/N laughed. “I was not offended in the slightest.” 

“Red is most definitely your color.” Alicent grinned, spinning her friend around.

Rhaenyra smirked. “Your knight shall not know what to do with himself.” Alicent gasped, smacking Rhaenyra’s arm. The Princess winced, glaring at her friend. “You cannot keep hitting me whenever you are disappointed.” 

Y/N tilted her head. “My knight?” 

“It is no matter.” Alicent stopped the Princess from blabbing anymore. “Shall we?” 

The ballroom was filled to the brim with nobility from all over the Seven Kingdoms, the Hightowers, the Tullys, even the Starks had come to participate in the tourney and celebrate its results. 

Y/N stepped back, watching as her friends entered. The squire stomped his cane, effectively silencing the ballroom. “The Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the Seven Kingdoms, accompanied by the Lady Alicent Hightower.” 

They looked elegant, lighting up the room as they walked. Y/N walked up to the squire, smiling lightly. “No need to introduce me, Orvyn.” 

He nodded, smiling kindly. “As you wish, my lady.” 

The ballroom had not paid attention as she walked, not that she minded. It was better that way, she convinced herself as she glanced around the room. She smiled, waving at Gwayne, who was already staring back at her, rather intensely. His eyes… she shivered, ripping herself away from his gaze as she curtsied before the King. “Your Majesty.” 

Viserys smiled, eyeing her royal red dress with curiosity. “Y/N.” 

She rose; she could still feel Gwayne’s eyes fixed on her. Sitting beside Rhaenyra, she took a large gulp of her wine. “Is Gwayne still-” 

Rhaenyra nodded, laughing to herself. “He is walking over.” 

“What?” Y/N’s eyes widened, her heart pounding. “Why?” 

“I assume…” She whispered, Gwayne now mere inches away. “He is going to ask you to dance.” 

“He-” 

“Your Highness.” The knight bowed. “My lady.” 

Y/N avoided eye contact and took another large sip. Rhaenyra smirked. “Ser Gwayne, congratulations on your victory.” 

“Thank you, Princess.” He smiled. “Would you mind terribly if I stole your lady for a dance?” 

Rhaenyra shook her head. “Not at all, my lord.” She looked at Y/N, enjoying this situation too much. “Y/N?” 

“What?” Y/N whispered. 

“He is asking you to dance.” Rhaenyra hissed. “Now get up.” 

“I-” Y/N looked at Gwayne for the second time that night, feeling as if she could faint at any moment. “I would be delighted.” 

His hand waited for hers, as it had so many times before. He whispered, placing his arm around her waist as they stood on the dance floor, his touch shocking her to her very core. “Is something the matter?” 

She shook her head. 

“Then why, pray tell…” His voice sounded desperate. “Have you refused to meet my eyes? I have missed your company.” 

She raised her gaze, falling for the trap he’d set. “I saw you but two days ago, Gwayne.” 

“There you are.” He grinned, pulling her closer as the dance began. “Now tell me, what is the matter?” 

“You are leaving soon.” 

“I am.” He replied as if this were any normal conversation. And perhaps it was, but Y/N would not say so. No normal conversation made her heart beat as fast as this. 

“And I-” She sighed. “I did not want to bother you while you prepared for your journey back.” 

“Back?” He tilted his head. “And where am I journeying to?” 

“To Oldtown, of course.” His eyebrows scrunched, and Y/N fought the urge to burst into laughter. “I assumed-” 

“Well, there’s no good in that, is there?” He whispered. “Assuming is a dangerous business.” 

“But why would you stay?” She felt entirely confused. He had won the tourney and now would go home to tend to his duties. “There is no-” His eyes sparkled as she spoke, halting her momentarily. “No reason.” 

Gwayne leaned down, his breath hitting her cheeks. “There is one reason. A very compelling one, in truth.” 

Her heart stopped. “Is there?” 

He nodded, eyes fluttering down to her lips. 

Oh. 

She was the reason. 

Before she could fall for his spell, she pulled back, disrupting the dance. His eyes widened, reaching out to hold her hand. “Y/N?” 

She ripped her hand back, staring wide-eyed. “I am not feeling well.” 

His tone was gentle, it made her stomach flip. Gods, he had to stop being so- so perfect. “Would you like me to-” 

“No!” She yelped, slapping a hand over her mouth. Nobles from around the room curiously gazed at the couple. “No, I shall go alone.” 

“Y/N-” 

She whipped around, stalking out of the ballroom. It broke her, to walk away from his hold. She knew she could no longer be around him; she was fighting her very soul to leap up and attach her lips to his. 

There was only one solution to this problem, this vexing complication - she would have to avoid him entirely. No more traipsing around the halls waiting for him to see her, no more walking by the stables or the training yard.

No, she would have to stay confined to her and Rhaenyra’s rooms. 

That was the best course of action, for both her and Gwayne. 

Little did she know, Gwayne would not stand for it. 

“They say-” Rhaenyra spoke carefully as she addressed her cousin. “That your knight is leaving today.” 

“Ah.” Y/N nodded, staring off into the distance.

“Y/N…” The Princess sat beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Punishing yourself because of your birth… You must stop refusing any sign of affection or love simply on the-” 

“Who said it was love?” Y/N scoffed, walking out to the balcony. “Certainly not I.” 

“Anyone with eyes can see it. He is mad for you, as you are for him.” Rhaenyra muttered under her breath. “Even if you refuse to admit it.”

“I cannot admit something false, Rhaenyra.” Her lips curled into a twisted sort of smile. “I am content with my life, serving you.” 

“All perfectly fine with me,” Rhaenyra reassured. “But you have a chance with Gwayne. Swear to me you will not waste it.” 

“I-” She sighed. “I must retrieve your dinner, my lady.” Y/N curtsied before racing out of the room. By the gods, she couldn’t breathe when Rhaenyra lectured her. It was horrible enough that Alicent had begun to look upon her as if she was a kicked puppy, now Rhaenyra had began to do the same. 

She pushed open the servant's door, twisting through Maegor’s tunnels with ease. It was odd, she told herself, at the lack of maids in its halls. Normally, she was dodging servants left and right. This felt strange, unnerving in a way. 

Footsteps echoed behind her, and her heart lept when a hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her into a dark corner. She gasped, flailing her arms around, anything to beat this intruder off her. Gwayne’s familiar voice ripped her from her panicked cries. “It’s me! It’s me.” 

She rolled her eyes, pulling her arm out of his grasp. “What possessed you to drag me-” 

“You will not talk to me.” He crossed his arms, staring at her intensely. “I am sorry if I scared you.” She turned around, walking back to the hallway. Gwayne followed diligently. “My party is set to leave today.” 

Y/N nodded, ignoring the way her heart clenched. “So I’ve heard.” 

“I wanted to say goodbye before I left.” His voice wavered. “I will miss-” 

“You’ve said goodbye.” She cut him off, whipping around. “Now you may leave.” 

He closed the space between them, eyes running wild with confusion. “Why must you be like this? Have I truly upset you?” 

“Will you not respect a lady’s wishes?” She took a step back, scoffing. “I thought you were a knight, Lord Hightower.” 

“Don’t.” 

“I must attend to my lady. Her dinner is past due.” She continued her walk through the tunnels, ignoring his overwhelming presence. 

“Damn her dinner.” He hissed, walking a pace behind her as he whispered. “I have been trying, for weeks, to court you, and you’ve denied me every step of the way. Just as soon as I-” 

She scoffed. “Court me? Did Lord Tyland put you up to this?” 

He shook his head, laughing. “Is it so hard to believe that I am interested in you? That the very thought of you consumes me?” 

“Yes, it is.” 

“Why?” 

She could only imagine his expression, his beautiful face creased with shock. Her cheeks flushed at the thought. “I am a bastard, you a lord’s son. By the gods, your father is hand to the King, and I am merely a lady in waiting.” She frowned, eyes watering. “It is not proper-” 

“Then damn propriety!” He yelled, grabbing her wrist and halting her in her tracks. Her back was pressed against his chest. “I- I am mad for you, you must see that.” 

Her shoulders shook, tears falling down her face. “Gwayne, it is for the best.” 

“No!” He twirled her around, his hand gently caressing her cheek. “You- you make me think, and feel, and act as none have. Your laughter- it brightens my day. Your wit makes me proud. I am-” He sighed, smiling brightly at the mere sight of her. “How?” 

She tilted her head. “How?” 

“How can I show you?” Her back collided with the wall, her breath leaving her, her heart thumping at their proximity. “How can I make you believe?” 

“Gwayne…” 

“Damn it to hell…” He leaned down, colliding his lips to hers. She gasped, eyes fluttering shut as she instantly pulled him closer. “I am not deterred by your status, nor do I care. I will have you, regardless of what the court thinks is proper.” His forehead leaned against hers, his hand resting at the bottom of her neck. 

“We cannot-” Tears continued to fall down her face. “Gwayne it cannot happen-” 

“Do you want it to?” He remained steadfast. “Is this what you truly feel, or merely what the lords and ladies of Kings Landing shall say?”

“Gwayne, your father will never approve.” 

“By the gods woman…” He laughed. “Do you love me?” 

“Love?” She choked on a sob. Her body felt as if it could burst into flames at any moment. He was standing close, closer than what was deemed appropriate. “Do I-” 

“I do.” He whispered, nudging her nose with his, lips barely touching. “I love you.” 

“Gwayne, just listen to me.” She was fighting every bone in her body not to kiss him senselessly. “I am not good enough for you. There are hundreds of ladies-” 

“You are, you are good enough. Perhaps too good. Besides…” He whispered. “I want you. Only you.” His eyes were intense, his thumb caressing her collarbone. By the gods, he was trying to make her burst into flames. “Only you.” His lips collided against hers, her eyes fluttering shut once more. 

Her hands found their way to his chest, slowly pushing him away. “We cannot.” 

“Oh?” He looked around the hallway. “I do not see anyone.” 

“You know what I meant, Gwayne Hightower.”  

“Would you like to stop?” 

“No!” Her eyes widened, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

His eyebrows rose, laughing to himself. “So eager.” He nudged his nose against hers. “Whatever shall I do with you?” 

“Why have you stopped?” Gwayne’s voice was but a murmur. “I did not know you were listening.” She smiled. “You appeared to be sleeping.” 

“Merely basking in your presence, my love.” His eyes fluttered open. “I must say, you look radiant in this light.” 

She laughed. “As opposed to?” 

“You know that I find you impossibly perfect.” His eyes shut again. “How long has it been since you began this book?” 

“Hard to say. Possibly half an hour?” She squinted suspiciously. “Why?” 

“No reason.” He smirked, finding comfort in her lap once more. 

“Well, there must be.” Her laughter filled his heart, his soul. “You never ask for the time.” 

“May I not ask the beautiful woman, whom I love, what the time is? I simply want to know how long I have been lying in the garden.” His eyes peeked open once more, her eyebrows raising in amusement. “If you must know, I  have an appointment at half past three.”

“An appointment?” She shut her book, running her hand through his hair. “Whatever for?” 

“It is a secret.” 

“Really?” She pulled her hand away from his hair, laughing as he sat up, obviously disappointed by the sudden lack of touch.

“Really.” He stood, extending his hand. She smiled, placing hers in his gladly. “It is with the King.” 

She laid her head on his shoulder, smiling as they walked. “Has something happened?” 

“Yes.” 

Her heart dropped. “Is it serious?” 

He nodded. “Deadly.” 

She groaned. “Now you must tell me.” 

He sighed, stopping by the fountain. “Fine, fine. But you must not tell.” 

She nodded, interlocking their pinkies. “I swear.” 

He leaned forward, whispering in her ear. “I am asking the King for your hand.” 

Her eyebrows crinkled. “My hand?” 

“In marriage, my love.” She stood there speechless. He laughed, kissing the back of her hand gently. “I cannot be late.” 

He had been halfway down the trail when she’d been brought back to life. 

“Gwayne!” 

He turned around, laughing at the sight before him. Y/N was racing toward him, skirts in hand and book discarded, grinning wildly. “Gwayne, you come back here this instant!” 

He shook his head, running away. “This is highly unladylike, I must say!” She glared, almost tripping over a tree root, his laughter cascading through the garden. “Almost makes me rethink my question!”

taglist: @beebeechaos @i-padfootblack-things

[11queensupreme11]

Anyway, so how mad do you think the ror gods and humans would be when they see Luke betrayal and all that ? The yandere love intrest plus platonic posideon?

(they messaged me saying they didn't mean to add the platonic poseidon part so i won't talk about that!)

(also! reminder that this is about tv show!luke, not book luke!!!!)

i'm gonna try and fit as many characters i can here lmao wish me luck, i'll start with the yans first

cú chulainn: i already vaguely spoke about this, but he canonically wants to dethrone zeus and he's described to be ambitious. he would SOOOOOO look down on luke (more so than even the GODS would, which says a LOT cuz gods look down on everything). luke wants a revolution and to get rid of the gods because of all their wrongdoing?? great! wonderful! he'll be nodding in approval....... until he finds out luke's doing it by trying to bring kronos into power 💀 he'd be like "smh ur not a TRUE hater 😒🖕" because to him, you should seize that power yourself, not give it to another deity!!!! don't even get him started on when luke hurts percy, that'd just be another reason to loathe him cuz how DARE you???? only he can be a meanie to her! 💀

poseidon: dear gods, he would torture this boy if he was in the pjo universe 💀 trying to bring back his alternate father is one thing, trying to RECRUIT his daughter into his pitiful attempt of a revolution is another, BUT TO HARM HIS DAUGHTER????? luke is very very VERY lucky that he's already dead in elysium and in a whole other universe

hades: he would be furious as well!!!!!!! he doesn't know what pjo!kronos is like, but if he's just as bad as his father, then he wouldn't want ANY version of him back! he was a smidgeon bit sympathetic to luke's cause and can understand why he was doing this, and he can see that kronos really was the only way to take down the gods, but he just hates his father soooo much so his sympathies can only go so far. plus, this boy betrayed his innocent niece-wife! the poor girl genuinely saw him as a friend! a big brother figure even! and he goes and tries to brainwash her and then attacks her for mentioning hermes!

apollo: hated luke early on because of how close he was to percy (same for the other yans tbh), but now he has an even better reason to hate him: he hurt and betrayed her! his poor darling cousin, he just wants to give her a hug 🥺 he knows what it's like to be betrayed, he could totally punish the mortal for her if she wants (she doesn't, but he's not listening at that point). he's great at punishing traitors! just ask cassandra! 🤗

beelzebub: ahhhhh NOW he understands why percy got so sad when she showed him luke's picture in her album. but ANYWAY, best believe he's seething with rage at this. yes, he can tell that luke had been blinded by his anger when he attacked her, but he doesn't care. he's one of the most overprotective yans EVER, he does NOT want any harm coming to percy at all. to him, any threats, no matter how minor, must be ELIMINATED. because small threats can turn into bigger ones and he's (as always) proven correct as the books go on

loki: he was already screaming "KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIM!" when luke shows up and starts bonding with percy, but this was solely out of jealousy. but now that luke's hurt her? he's gonna go feral and actually try to jump the screen 😂 thor and odin would have to hold him back lmao

anubis: will be right next to loki screaming "KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIM!" while ra tries to hold him back and kebi's cheering for her daddy in the background 😭😭😭 he was already pouty and sulky when he saw luke and percy get close (their bond is STRICTLY platonic, but the yans don't see that. any male + percy = BAD 💀), but now that he's hurt her mentally and physically, he wants the boy dead.

NOW ONTO THE REST!!!!!

mnemosyne: already saw this coming cuz she saw it in percy's memories, but they're strictly in percy's POV, not as an outsider pov. so now she gets the chance to see it as an outsider pov and her nonexistent heart lowkey breaks when she sees percy's look of devastation when she realizes she accidentally hurt luke (her fatal flaw of loyalty is showing her) and how luke's own fatal flaw (wrath) rears his ugly head and makes him attack her when hermes is mentioned. she doesn't care much for luke, but she knows that percy does and that his loss definitely impacted her

adam: he feels so terrible for all these kids. he can tell that luke's been brought to the brink of desperation, and that kronos was literally the only way, but he's also the WORST possible choice. and now he's forced to watch these two kids battle it out. the gods in that universe must really be cruel....

kebechet: since she's in her child form while watching this, she doesn't really understand what's happening that much. all she knows is that a bad guy lied to mommy and hit her, and it made mommy sad! so she'll be tugging at her daddy's arm and begging him to make mommy feel better and take the bad guy away 🥺

ra: first off, luke's an idiot. second off, percy is way too trusting and she needs to stop hesitating to kill mortals/other demigods. the camp's done too much damage instilling heroic morals on these demigods, when they should've focused on making them more divine, that way they'd make more logical callous choices obviously 🙄 percy is too naive, pjo!poseidon never should've let her in the camp and should've just raised her but nooooo let her be a hero and get herself killed like every other demigod in that universe. good idea 😒😒😒😒 best way to raise a kid smh

prometheus: okay now he knows he said that he's a staunch supporter on letting humans make mistakes but bringing back kronos?????????????? are you sure about that luke???????????????????? 😭😭😭 this is probably the ONE MISTAKE he cannot let slide 😭 he does NOT like his uncle kronos 😭😭😭😭 also pls leave his baby cousin out of this mess, she's got enough on her plate!!!! yes the gods are shit, BUT KEEP HER AWAY FROM KRONOS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

sun wukong: "this kid's a dumbass" 💀

rhea: omfg she would slap the shit out of luke so hard jashfjkdfvgdjhasdfajsh 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 summon a gigantic ass slipper to slap the shit outta him fr 💀 YOUR PLAN IS TO BRING BACK HER ALT!HUSBAND????????? WHO IS WORSE THAN THE GODS???????? in the pjo universe, kronos was so paranoid that he'd be usurped that he ATE HIS OWN CHILDREN and you wanna bring him BACK???????????????? she'd be shrieking at the screen for him to stay away from percy, that man is a DANGER to her life if his solution is KRONOS

[distant-velleity]

LMAO i lied im answering all these at once. woohoo!

(warning for VERY unreliable narration in certain questions)

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

“That’s kind of personal, isn’t it? Well, good thing you asked me, the most normal person here. Kidding, kidding.”

Yuhua lives with his parents right now. His sister, an alumnus of the school, is away at university. They are a perfectly happy family. There is nothing wrong. Nothing. 

(Yuhua lives with an emotionally manipulative mother and conservative father, and returns to a dysfunctional household that is filled with silence, phone calls, or arguments every day. Of course, he would never admit any of this to anyone but his friends, and even then nothing more than a slight hint or complaint that tells nothing of the bigger picture. Yuhua himself is not in the best mental state as a result, due to placing pressure on himself to perform well so his parents don’t get on his case, and he maintains a thin thread of control on his demeanor.)

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

“She looks kind of lonely… I feel bad. No wonder she’s so into… Oops! That’s not my thing to tell. But I do think she could benefit from some friends.”

The quote is probably self-explanatory of what he thinks (assuming he hasn’t caught her doing anything suspicious, and has only ever seen her pretend to fawn over Azul). He recognizes that she’s always alone, but he’s also like. World’s worst introvert trying to masquerade as world’s worst extrovert, so… he hasn’t (yet) taken any steps to make the first move and interact with her. It probably doesn’t help that it looks like neither of them bother with more than small talk with others.

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

“That guy? …Doesn’t it seem like he’s suddenly got a lot of admirers nowadays? I mean, I can see the appeal—hardworking, intelligent… But I don’t think I could ever date anyone on the student council. Guess those guys can shoot their shots if they want.”

If you couldn’t tell from the quote, he… thinks middlingly of Azul, and has like 0 romantic interest in him at all lol. Of course, Yuhua respects anyone with good grades and good conduct, of which Azul meets all the criteria, but that’s it. I wouldn’t say he ever met Azul so much as he’s heard of him (what with being in the same year and Azul being on the student council), and seen him around. 

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

About Floyd:

“...That guy. There’s no point in associating myself with him.”

(if this is okay) They’ve been in the same class for two years in a row now, purely by chance. Yuhua knows him as the careless, genius lackey of Azul. His disorderly and sometimes disrespectful conduct only grates Yuhua when there’s something that needs to be done, but otherwise Yuhua would be content to let him live his life and let their paths never cross. Even that one time he went into the gym after club activities to practice his lines and saw Floyd practicing his basketball skills non-stop—Even when Floyd puts in the work to pass a test almost effortlessly, then decides the next one isn’t worth the nonexistent effort—Even when Floyd is free to do whatever he wants, his actions and comments constantly broadening Yuhua’s restricted worldview—Even… when…

…even when Yuhua’s nursing something of a hopeless, helpless crush on him. And that’s it. It’s no fairytale love, it’s no novel-worthy romance. It’ll never take flight—Yuhua will take this secret with him to the grave because of that. He knows he’s not enough to catch and keep Floyd’s attention; at most he’s just a classmate who Floyd thinks it’s funny to talk to and annoy sometimes because he tries to look like a goody-two-shoes in a less angry way than Riddle.

“It’s not a crush, because I won’t get that crushing disappointment when he finds out and is disgusted by my very existence.”

About Vizzie ( @twistedwonderlandshenanigans ):

“...She’s got a good heart.”

They’re… friends. Acquaintances. Something. Does he really know how to define it? Now that Vizzie doesn’t care as much about her grades and Yuhua’s just went on to prioritize himself, or something, what was probably a friendship has… not stayed a friendship. He goes on with his reputation-building act, while she does her own thing. Yeah. Yeah—He’s fine with it. It’s what they both want, and he’s not going to interfere with her choices. It’s fine. Right? (He doesn’t want to think about it.)

It definitely doesn’t bother him that now that she’s “fallen off” and protected herself with a poor reputation, she seems… more free. It ABSOLUTELY does not bother him that she’s such easy “friends” with Floyd. It doesn’t bother him that unlike with Floyd, everything about Vizzie’s day-to-day existence and circumstances proves that something is inherently wrong with Yuhua himself. It doesn’t bother him that her everything proves that everything about him, from personality to looks to grades, is inferior and unlikeable. It doesn’t bother him that, because she’s so closed-off now, the unspoken truth is that he wasn’t enough for something like an actual friendship. It. Doesn’t. Bother. Him. 

About Riddle:

“...Oh, that guy.”

Sure, he can respect someone like Riddle. Someone who’s at the top of their class, is on the student council—Yeah, sure, whatever. It’s because of people like him that Yuhua doesn’t try too hard, anyway. It just isn’t fun. It’s not worth his time, to be constantly outclassed. And his attitude, too—part of the reason Yuhua would never run for student council. If he was aware of Riddle’s situation, he’d be more sympathetic, but as things are he just can’t quite stand Riddle’s attitude. 

Let overachievers have their fun, is Yuhua’s opinion. He’s fine to be a middling fish in a small pond while people like Riddle try to be big fish. They’re fellow second-years, but that doesn’t mean they have to care about each other. They probably don’t interact much on a meaningful level because of Riddle’s duties and Yuhua’s opinions, and if they do—it’s Yuhua being polite and saying all the things Riddle wants to hear.

(if you’re willing to establish OC dynamics, let me know and I can add Yuhua’s thoughts here! I just don’t like to add/conceptualize dynamics with canon characters because I’m scared of stepping on toes abkjsdkfgjskfd)

5. What grade/year is your OC?

“I’m part of the worst year, in case you’re wondering. Hehe. Just kidding.”

Aging him up by just one year for this AU— He’s 17, a second-year. 

6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

“Goals? Eh… Passing this year with the best grades I can get.”

He doesn’t have any true goals, and it makes him anxious. His main objective is just… passing the school year, staying on good terms with everyone… That’s it. It’s all very short-term, school-related. He doesn’t have enough faith in himself to actually achieve a long-term life goal.

“As for life? Ask me again in, like… a year.” 

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

“...What? This is ridiculous. Do you just accept any kind of evidence nowadays? …No. Don’t answer that. Sorry. But I know I’m innocent.”

Yuhua is counting on others to vouch for him, both for an alibi and for his character; it’s situations like these that are the reason why he’s so intent on networking and maintaining good relationships with everyone. Knowing that his future and record are on the line, he’s absolutely going to plead his case however he can, trying to argue about the evidence, et cetera…

“Isn’t there anyone else who could have been responsible? In fact…”

If he’s ever caught Quartz doing something suspicious, he’s definitely throwing her under the bus now. If people grill him for not reporting it right away, well…

“I was just—scared at the time, you know? I didn’t know what she was going to do to me if I tattled… I’m really sorry, but what matters is that I’m the one telling the truth now.”

This might be one of the rare situations where people see him genuinely lose the easygoing act.

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

“Huh? Pockets? What pockets? I didn’t see anything.”

He’ll turn a blind eye, unless there’s a situation wherein he can actually benefit from reporting her. 

“In any case… It’s not my business right now. Let people do what people want as long as it doesn’t affect me, yeah?”

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

“Come on, don’t ask me questions like that. I’m only ever where I should be.”

Yuhua always goes to class, and always shows up on time. He has people he can’t disappoint, even himself. When he’s not in class, he’s (usually) in the drama club room; before classes start for the day, at lunch, and so on.  

10. How are your OC's grades?

“Passable.”

He gets pretty good grades. I wouldn’t say he’s necessarily competitive, nor at the very top of his class, but he tries to stay above “average.” He’s got a natural edge to memorizing and regurgitating information, so getting good grades isn’t hard for him, but… you know. If he tried a little harder…

(No Yan Sim AU) Questions for OCs! + Quartz and other characters' lore

You don't have to do these if you don't want to! You can write and answer how ever you want (3rd person or as the OC)

These answers are just examples and they also give lore to other TWST characters in the AU

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Riddle currently lives with his mother. Because of her influence, he is the strictest in the student council (which consists of the dormleaders.)

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

[You can yap about it here since I already used Quartz as an example in the fourth question]

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

Jade is Azul's right hand man. He assists Azul with a lot of student council work and is mostly by his side with Floyd. They are friends from their middle school days and up to their highschool days (although the three of them won't admit it).

Jade found Azul's hardwork and scheming nature very exciting so he and his brother always stayed by Azul's side to see what fun events would happen.

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

[They are speaking about Quartz as example]

Floyd: "Who again?"

Floyd doesn't really acknowledge Quartz since she's so quick out of his sights. Genuinely believes there isn't a person named that but is suspicious.

Jade: "Oh, that shy girl? She's a little funny."

Definitely suspicious of Quartz but they don't interact much so he has no other information about her. He probably needs to be more skillful when studying her.

Riddle: "Quartz?.. Uh.. I-I don't recall who that is."

Quartz rarely interacts with Riddle.

Ace: "Ah? You mean that girl who's always so weird? I've seen her watch Azul. Pffftt! Do you think she likes him?"

He notices her sometimes because he thinks her appearance is a little flashy.

Idia: "I-Isn't she one of Azul's admirers?... She's the shy type right? She's a little strange though.. Sometimes she takes photos of me! W-Wait.. Maybe she's into me instead?! EEEKK!! H-HOW SCARY!!"

Completely misunderstands Quartz's actions but he's quick to know how weird her actions are. He stays away from her if Azul isn't present.

5. What grade/year is your OC?

Azul, Jade, and Floyd are all 2nd years (17).

Leona has been held back so he is still 20.

6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

Quartz wishes to kill Azul 🙏

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

Floyd is jumping her.

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

Riddle is absolutely reporting that! He's calling the cops and everything 🫡🫡🫡

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

Quartz is always in class but she'll come right before the bell rings since she was.. busy. She doesn't have a particular place she goes to all the time. She's never in one spot.

Quartz's lunch spot varies because she's always spying but her usual spot is in the courtyard.

Riddle is assigned being a hall monitor so he usually watches the halls when he is able to. He usually eats lunch with Trey and Cater.

Leona is always found napping under trees and skipping his classes. Ruggie manages to find him and give him his lunch from the cafeteria.

Rook is watching you.

10. How are your OC's grades?

Deuce tries, ok. (Awful)

[sheeezu]

I’ve been trying to shift for the past five years. I love shifting and it’s honestly the one thing that kept me going all this time and gave me hope and it just felt right. Everytime I would feel demotivated I would change my mindset, think positively, and try again. Or I would take breaks and then try again. I have tried every method and then realized I didn’t like methods so I tried no methods and just intention which I liked but then the cycle would repeat after trying for so long and not shifting at all. I’ve had moments where I’ve felt myself shifting but never got further than that or actually fully woke up in my dr or wr. I’m a stubborn person and never wanted to give up on shifting because I know I can do it and I know I deserve it and it is what my soul wants. But lately I’m so burnt out with my cr life which never gives me a break and with trying to shift to the point where I’m thinking of giving it up even though I don’t want to and it’s been the one thing giving me hope. I’ve even tried not to try to shift and just go with the flow and simply affirmed but I still wake up here. I know a lot of other shifters feel the same way as me who have been trying for years. But I’ve reached this unfortunate point where I have lost a bit of faith and am too tired to try anymore even though it’s everything I want. It’s like I see it dangling in my face and see other people get it easily and I know I can have it too but I can never reach it and now it’s too exhausting. But it’s like even if I took another break, the cycle will just repeat like it has been. And trust me I’ve read everything and tried changing my mindset and thought positively and have had hope and know I can shift. I know this seems like I’m just ranting and having the most negative mindset so you’re like well of course this is why you’re not shifting, but genuinely after trying your best at something you’ve loved for five years and still nothing and in fact things are just getting worse in your life when you’ve done your best at juggling everything from work, school, family, and shifting, just to feel like you are going no where and lost everything anyways, that can break down even the most hopeful positive of people like me in my shifting journey. I don’t know if there’s any advice you can hopefully provide for this that I probably haven’t heard but thank you anyways for all you do and I’ve always admired who you are and how authentic you are. ❤️ who knows maybe something will miraculously change for me when I least expect it but for now here I am! ❤️

Of course, you're right, that I've probably got nothing new for you, but maybe what I'm about to say may ease your stress, make it fade away from background.

Shifting is dependent on which lens you to try to look at it.

If you looked at it through the eyes of your CR self, then of course, you'll remain your CR self.

But if you were to view it from your DR self's eyes, shifting won't be there, but your DR will be.

Shifting is all about breaking a mold. to solve shifting like any other worldly problems, robotically, like you're trying to pass on a test, is not how it works.

Simply assume you're not human. I know you've mentioned the struggle of juggling other activities alongside it, you have to let go of the crave to make yourself seem like "you've done enough", that is a human response to any situation.

I know my word would induce nothing but agitation in you, because it is simply not something anyone who works hard would want to hear, shifting does not require hardwork.

I would rant all I know in this post, to try to push you in the right direction, but I wouldn't like to be so unorganised.

I have already made much posts on my blog, which focuses on letting go of human identity and ideologies, so please, if you haven't come across the knowledge I can share, reach back in my inbox, so i could link all the posts I think could help you.

[loverangels]

HRSJIDJE IM BACK HII 🫰😋 I HAVE SOME MORE IDEAS since exams r finally done.

What about percy x cluess!reader that doesnt seem to get all the flirty action percy has been showing and thinks he's just friendly like that. Maybe throw in a hc about reader being in an aphrodite kid, and doesnt think that anyone could like them romantically cause they thinks its just due to them being aphrodite's child, and percy tries to show them that regardless of what god parent they have, he still likes us.

Can you tell my brain is fried?

-🌸

sooner

pairings: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite!reader

a/n: I'm in love with this request you never fail to serve with your requests nonnie!!! I wish you all the best for your exams and I hope this can be a little treat since I know how horrible exam season can be! Make sure to take care of yourself love!! 🩷🌸

The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden hues across Camp Half-Blood as you walked alongside Percy. He was smiling in that easy, boyish way he always did, his hands casually shoved in his pockets as he glanced at you.

“So,” Percy said, bumping your shoulder lightly. “What’s the latest from Aphrodite cabin? You guys always seem to have, like, ten soap operas running at once.”

You laughed. “You’re not wrong. Yesterday, Drew tried to use a love potion on one of the Apollo kids, but she mixed it wrong, and now he won’t stop declaring his undying love for a watermelon.”

Percy chuckled. “Classic. But what about you? Any love drama of your own? Got your eye on anyone special?”

You tilted your head, considering. “Me? No, no one. Why?”

Percy stumbled a little, but quickly covered it up with a shrug. “Oh, no reason. Just curious.”

He glanced at you, waiting for some kind of reaction, hoping for even the tiniest flicker of realization. But you just smiled at him, completely oblivious. Percy sighed internally. How could you not see it? The way he went out of his way to make you laugh, the way he made excuses to spend time with you, the way he felt like his heart might actually explode every time you smiled at him.

But to you, Percy was just a friend. And no matter how many hints he dropped, you didn’t seem to noticem

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Later that evening, Percy found himself standing outside the Aphrodite cabin. Again. He stared at the door for a moment, debating whether to turn around, but then he sighed and knocked.

When the door swung open, your older brother leaned against the frame, looking completely unimpressed.

“Seriously?” he said, crossing his arms. “You’ve been here so much, we’re starting to think you’re an honorary sibling.”

Percy flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh… I just… I need advice. Again.”

The brother groaned and stepped aside, yelling over his shoulder, “Hey, lovebirds! Seaweed Brain’s back!”

Your siblings erupted in laughter as Percy shuffled in, his face red as a tomato.

“You’re still trying to get through to her, huh?” one of your sisters teased, lounging on her bed. “This is, what, the fourth time this week?”

“Sixth,” your brother corrected, smirking. “At this rate, we’re gonna have to start charging you.”

Percy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what else to do! I flirt with her constantly, but she just smiles and changes the subject. I even asked her today if she liked anyone, and she said no!”

The group collectively groaned, and your brother flopped dramatically onto a couch.

“She is so oblivious,” one of your sisters muttered. “I love her, but gods, it’s painful to watch.”

“Have you tried being direct?” your brother asked, giving Percy a pointed look.

Percy frowned. “I’ve been trying! I’ve dropped hints, I’ve asked leading questions, I’ve been—”

“No, no, no,” your brother interrupted, waving his hand. “You don’t ‘hint’ at things with her. That’s like trying to teach a rock to swim. You have to be blunt. Like, hit-her-over-the-head-with-it blunt.”

“Tell her,” one of your sisters added. “Straight up. No room for her to misinterpret it.”

“She’s gonna think I’m crazy…” Percy mumbled.

“She already thinks you’re crazy,” your brother deadpanned. “Just own it. March up to her, look her in the eye, and say, ‘Hey, I like you. I’ve been flirting with you for weeks, and you haven’t noticed, so now I’m telling you.’”

The room went silent for a beat, everyone nodding in agreement. Percy groaned. “This is a terrible idea.”

“It’s your only shot, Jackson,” your brother said, patting him on the back. “Go get her.”

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The next day, Percy found you by the canoe lake, skipping stones across the water. He took a deep breath, his heart racing, and walked over.

“Hey,” he said, smiling nervously. “Got room for one more?”

You glanced up, your face lighting up when you saw him. “Of course. You’re always welcome, Percy.”

His heart skipped a beat. You had no idea what you did to him when you said things like that.

For a while, the two of you sat in companionable silence, watching the ripples spread across the lake. Then Percy cleared his throat, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“So,” he began, his voice a little shaky. “There’s, uh… there’s something I need to tell you.”

You turned to him, your brow furrowing in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Percy said quickly. “It’s just… I’ve been trying to tell you something for a while now, but I don’t think I’ve done a very good job of it.”

You tilted your head, confused. “What do you mean?”

Percy took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage he had. “I like you. Like, like-like you. And before you say anything, no, it’s not just as a friend. I think you’re amazing, and funny, and brave, and honestly, you’re all I think about.”

You blinked at him, completely stunned. “Wait… what?”

“I like you,” Percy repeated, his face turning red. “As in, I’ve been flirting with you for weeks because I have a massive crush on you.”

You stared at him, your brain struggling to process his words. “But… I thought you were just being nice!”

Percy groaned, running a hand down his face. “How could you possibly think that? I literally asked your siblings for advice because I didn’t know how to tell you!”

“You talked to my siblings?” you asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes!” Percy exclaimed. “Half the Aphrodite cabin is sick of me because I’ve been driving them crazy trying to figure out how to get you to notice me.”

You blinked again, the pieces finally clicking into place. “Oh…”

Percy laughed weakly. “Yeah. Oh.”

There was a long silence as you stared at each other, Percy’s heart pounding in his chest. Finally, you smiled.

“Well,” you said softly, “you could’ve just told me sooner.”

Percy groaned. “You’re impossible.”

But then you leaned in, pressing a quick, soft kiss to his lips. When you pulled away, Percy’s face was bright red, but he was grinning like an idiot.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Totally worth it.”

[injestedsoap]

Taking The 141 to Build A Bear

Gaz was actually the one who planned it, there was a new wave of characters coming out and he had kept an eye on your local store to make sure they would have the ones you both wanted. He does his best to play it cool when the two of you arrive but you can tell he's just as excited as you, rushing over to pick out his character. Gaz is also all in on the heart ceremony but the employee can tell you're, you know, adults, so she doesn't have you do anything too crazy (i.e. jumping or spinning). As far as clothes go you better believe he is spoiling your plushie as much as he is spoiling you, pick any outfit and accessory you want, baby, on him! Of course you're getting the cardboard houses to carry them out in and you're getting snacks at whatever coffee or juice bar is closest to the workshop afterward.

The funny thing is with Soap neither of you actually planned it. You had gone out shopping for something else and just noticed there was a Build A Bear near by and when you mentioned wanting to go Soap was all in. Soap grew up in a good family but not a well off one so BAB wasn't something he ever did. This isn't exactly healing an inner child for him but oh boy does his inner child come out for this to the point where you are almost having more fun watching him light up doing all of this than making the plushie. The heart ceremony has jumping, spinning, the works and when it's time for him to dress his plushie he makes sure you both have a few outfit specifically so you can get matching outfits and individual ones.

You are the one who asks Price to go and he'll never deny you something this bloody adorable. He keeps insisting he isn't going to get anything but when the two of you get there... well... you didn't tell him they had Pokemon. He ends up grinning ear to ear as he gets his plushie stuffed. He doesn't get any clothes for his (Pokemon don't need clothes, love) but he is more than happy to get an outfit for your plushie. He is grinning enormously when he gets to fill out the birth certificate and you see him almost jump when they give him a Pokemon card along with his new friend.

Taking Ghost to Build A Bear is a long elaborate secret plan that you have been working on for at least a month. You are positive this is going to be good for him because if anyone needs a relaxed activity that encourages play it is your big British boy. When you finally steer him through the colorful doorway you watch him tense and then start to melt under your hands as you pull him over so you can pick a plushie, and of course he has to pick one too, you can't do this alone! You watch him carefully pick a plushie, the texture is important, and you hold his hand as you get them stuffed. Ghost is shy for the heart ceremony but you can tell that he's having fun, rolling his eyes at you when you tell him to make a wish. He finds a simple outfit for his bear that he painstakingly dresses them in and your hear melts over how seriously he takes naming them ("It's their name, I want to make sure it fits"). By the time you leave you don't think you've ever had more fun at a Build A Bear.

[indieyuugure]

Hiii! Im doing a essay about ROTTMNT and TMNT do you have any ideas whatt ill do?

lol 😂 oh dear this seems a tad urgent.

Hm, well personally I would consider covering the both positive and accurate homeschooler representation in TMNT. It’s often overlooked but is really actually incredibly good and a deeper topic than maybe like art style.

A lot of media paints homeschoolers extremely inaccurately and often negatively. I can’t tell you how many times the “homeschooled” character’s in media are 2D friendless plain toast people with personalities that are literally just that they don’t go to school and it’s so incredibly insulting! But TMNT doesn’t do this!

I’ll tell you, as a homeschooler myself and having met NUMEROUS others, homeschoolers are wild, they’re full of personality and big dreams, often they have no interest in attending “normal school” and are usually better educated, they’re best friends with their siblings and very close with their parents, and actually tend to have more meaningful and lasting friendships than other kids.

All of these things is the TMNT is and it makes me so happy to have good representation that’s not loud and preaching but just subtly there because THAT’S HOW IT IS.

There are exceptions to everything I just listed—I can think of one person for just about every exception—but TMNT does a fantastic job of explaining in a lowkey way that homeschoolers aren’t aliens from another planet, they’re kids just like everyone else.

So anyway 😅 now that I’ve written my own rant, hopefully you’ll find that useful at all.

Other good topics could be the franchise’s themes of acceptance and learning to see beyond an outer appearance which as a show targeted towards children is a very good thing to learn (seriously children are the judgiest little things).

Another could be the franchise’s history from gritty young adult comics to colorful children’s cartoons.

You could also do something with the shows portrayal of positive familial relationships since most television often depicts siblings as annoying irritants and parents as unfeeling dictators, and while those are aspects of family life, they never show the positive things like unconditional love, and loyalty and understanding and very deep togetherness.

Hopefully any of this is useful, I’d recommend maybe asking a few other people for ideas (if you haven’t already) so you can get a wider selection of view points and of course more ideas 👍

[shroomkore]

just realized that everyone who has the worst takes on nosferatu are basing all of their information on the idea that Ellen never wanted any of this and she's just an "innocent clueless poor girl" as if SHE wasn't the one who invoked a death entity and dreamt of all she knew as dead to her marriage with her true love, and was HAPPY about it and deep down truly had NO problem letting everyone die bc they all mistreated her and never once listened to her or anything, just treating her like a hysterical unruly child.

its like these people are completely missing the point that while she tries to cling to this childlike innocence society expects her to have well into adulthood where a woman must be subservient and quiet, she is DESPERATE to release her darkness, her urges, her humanity, but bc she is a woman (an autistic woman at that), its seen as something so dastardly. that's why she married thomas, she wanted to be seen as "correct" in her society and is essentially hoping that Thomas is the cure to all her ailments in life and everything will magically get better. and there is romance between them for sure, but thomas and ellen struggle a lot to see eye to eye. he still treats her as "burdened" and is more dismissive than anything, refuses to listen to her and just assumes things on top of having this mindset of "i need to do whats best for us and what'll make me successful" WHEN LITERALLY ALL SHE WANTS IS HIM AND HIS LOVE AND INTIMACY AND SEX. My husband made a wonderful comment about how it didn't matter that thomas didn't know what the contract orlok gave him said. the moment he chose his work over Ellen, he sold her away for that pouch of gold before knowing it.

ellen has a darkness inside her she keeps trying to fight, fighting her own mortality, her own nature. she keeps denying herself her true feelings and emotions, which Orlok wouldn't understand and be angry over this because "ew wtf why are you restraining your own wants and needs for the approvement of others" because purity culture tends to strip a human of all the things that make us human for the idea of "being closer to God and becoming more Holy". Which is idiocy in itself. thats why she's constantly trying to push orlok away and is tryin everything to let him know she "hates" him, because she's just fighing against herself and self sabotaging herself and he KNOWS this.

anyways if you think a woman isn't capable of having dark urges or doing anything "evil" or actually wanting "bad" things, you're weird af and kinda misogynistic tbh!

and before ANYONE comes for me, let me state this. Movies can have more than one interpretation and be correct in both or more. I fully embrace all interpretations of the movie, but if you try to tell me or other that only ONE is correct, you should step back and reflect on yourself to see why you think that other people having a different opinion is bad. Also, ✨️Law of Paradox✨️

ellen may be depicted as a damsel in distress, but that's because EVERYONE ELSE IS FORCING HER INTO THIS ROLE AND IGNORING HER COMPLETELY. SHE IS POWERFUL SPIRITUALLY.

as a CSA and childhood trauma survivor, i wish death upon all my abusers, rapists, and every instigator in my life who did nothing and/or told me to keep quiet about it to not "tear everything apart" and "ruin other peoples' lives", and i hope it is gruesome and brutal and it is painful the entire time, and i too would love to see their mangled corpses in my happiest moment when im marrying my soulmate who is not only everything ive dreamed of, but who also truly loves me and wants me in their life as i want them.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Relapse

hello! hope you're doing ok I have a request that's dealing with some sensitive topics, please don't feel pressured to write this! Warning for self harm I've been in a not the best mental space recently and was wondering if you could write smth where one of the sides has a sh relapse for an extended period of time and is hiding it, then gets discovered (and probably has a panic attack about it). my preference is Logan but I'd be happy with any of them!! – anon

Could you write a Roman angst + hurt/comfort sickfic. You can pick whatever sickness you want to give Roman. He tries to hide his illness from the others but they find out and help nurse him back to health. – monkeythefander

just saying.... if you wanted to write some not-romantic-not-platonic-what-are-you-a-cop? analogical h/c....... especially if they both- oh wait. I was trying to keep this vague but actually I just remembered from one of the earlier episodes Virgil said "I'm a problem identifier, not a problem solver" and Logan made a face like he wanted to disagree. maybe Logan is struggling and Virgil helps him and then later Virgil says something to that effect and Logan starts pointing out all the ways that isn't true? – anon

I was thinking about Logan angst and how maybe some of it isn’t about him thinking that he’s emotionless, but he’s just really reserved, and then the others make assumptions about what emotions he Must Be Feeling. And when he tries to explain himself, they don’t listen because they think he’s just denying that he has emotions, not that he’s denying having the specific emotions that they assume he has. – anon

Hi, I absolutely love your Sanders sides fics and I was wondering if you would write roman angst where the other sides realize that he is nearly always performing when he’s around them (kinda like your fic productivity). Like they thought Roman was kinda irresponsible/ careless and then they find out that when he’s not around them he’s working himself to the bone to prepare for the 0.5% and when he is with them he’s still not relaxing - even when they’re just like having dinner or something - because that’s when he has to perform. No pressure to write anything if you’re not up for it; you write Roman angst like no one else – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-harm

Pairings: none

Word Count: 3529

Relapse: deteriorate after a period of improvement. Relapse: return to a less active or worse state. *** There are good times, there are bad times.

Virgil gets summoned when the other Sides are afraid. Somehow, Logan had forgotten this crucial thing.

Stupid, stupid—

"Hey, no, none of that, bud," comes Virgil's voice, low and soothing as he crouches next to Logan on the cold bathroom floor, covered in water and blood and sodden toilet paper and— "Hey. Stay with me, Logan."

Logan blinks. He looks up. Virgil's face is blurred. He blinks again. Something warm touches his face, brushing tenderly along his cheek—hand, his brain supplies, that's Virgil's hand on his face. He blinks again. "V-Virgil?"

"Hey, there he is. You with me?"

"I think so."

"Okay, that's good. That's really good, Logan, okay? I want you to try and stay with me while we get you all cleaned up. Can we do that?"

Cleaned up. Right. That's why he'd come into the bathroom. That's the rule. He only ever does it in the bathroom because that's where it's the easiest to clean.

Oh, God—

"Logan." Virgil's voice is a little firmer now. "Stay with me, remember?"

"I'm here." He shakes his head slightly. "I'm here."

"Okay. I'm gonna stand up to get you some water. I'm not gonna leave, I'm gonna use the cup you keep in your medicine cabinet for this reason, okay?" Logan nods. "Okay. While I do that, I need you to count backwards from twenty. Ready?"

"Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…" As he counts, Virgil stands up. He hears the click of the cabinet opening and the sink running. "Five, four, three, two, one."

"Good job, bud. Here, drink that, okay? Try and drink all of it if you can."

"It's so much."

"One sip at a time, yeah?" There's a hand on his shoulder and another on the hand holding the cup. "C'mon, just try and get some of it down. For me?"

He can try. For Virgil, he can try. He lifts the cup with Virgil's help. The cool water soothes his throat—he was crying, he was hyperventilating, the rush and sting of it dulled everything to a background roar, why can't he just live there instead—and he swallows once, twice, three times. Soon he lifts the cup back to his lips and discovers it's empty.

"Good job, Logan, you did great. Do you want some more?"

He shakes his head. Virgil nods and takes the cup gently from his hands, settling it on top of the counter and taking Logan's hand in his. He rubs his thumb over Logan's trembling knuckles and gives his fingers a squeeze.

"I need to clean you up, buddy. Do you want to stay in here while I do that?"

"Bathrooms are easy to clean," he mumbles by rote, and Virgil only hesitates for a moment before there's another squeeze.

"Yeah, I know, but you're not a bathroom. You're Logan. And if Logan needs to be all comfy on his bed while I clean up, then that's what we'll do."

Bed…his bed sounds very nice right about now. His body tingles with the macabre satisfaction of being exhausted and lying down would help, wouldn't it? He tries to stand but a fresh sting of pain ripples up his legs and he collapses back to the wet tile.

"Hey, let me help you, c'mere, come put your arms around me…" Virgil hefts him off the floor like he weighs nothing, carrying him through to his bedroom and settling him on the edge of the bed. "There. I'm gonna go get the stuff from the bathroom, okay? You'll see me the whole time, you'll watch me go over there and you'll watch me come back."

"You won't leave?"

Virgil's gaze softens ever so slightly. "I'm not gonna leave, L. Do you want to count again? Would that help?"

"Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…"

By the time he gets to one, Virgil's got the first-aid kit laid out on the bed next to him, a towel folded up next to it, and another cup of water on his nightstand. He lets Logan wind nervous fingers into his hoodie, holding him close. He reaches up and lightly ruffles Logan's damp hair, smiling in the way where the corners of his eyes crinkle up.

"Hey, bud. You got me, see? I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna start cleaning up now, yeah? You wanna close your eyes for me?"

Logan's grip tightens. Virgil covers his hand with his.

"You got me, see? I'm right here. You can close your eyes, L, it's okay."

"If I close my e-eyes I'll just feel it. I can't—" his breath hitches— "I can't just feel it."

"Okay. Do you…do you want to see what I'm doing?" Logan shakes his head. "Okay. Do you want to talk while I'm doing this?"

"What would I talk about?"

"Well, I do wanna know what happened, but—but," he says softly when Logan barely stifles a whimper, "that doesn't have to be right now. Why don't you talk to me about something that isn't work related? Have you been watching something interesting?"

"There's—" he swallows— "there's this video game that Roman and I have been talking about."

"Oh, yeah? What's it called?"

"Superliminal."

"That sounds cool as hell. What's it about?"

"The premise is that you're going to this hospital for something called 'dream therapy,' meant to help you relieve—relieve stress," he mumbles, breath hitching again when Virgil tears open an antiseptic wipe, "and the game is you going through the stages of the therapy."

"Huh. That's a cool idea for a video game. What, uh, what's the story like when you're actually playing it?"

"The core mechanic is—" he hisses at the sting and Virgil blows a stream of cold air over it— "that you can change the world around you by picking up objects and that will alter their relative size based on your perception of them."

"Whoa. How the hell did they program that?"

"I have no—no idea."

"What sort of objects?"

Logan continues to describe it as Virgil works patiently to clean him up, pausing every once in a while to murmur words of comfort and encouragement when Logan's voice gets a bit too strained or his hand suddenly tenses. He keeps asking questions, prompting Logan to continue talking, until he finishes describing one of the more frustrating puzzles and realizes that Virgil's hands are on his shoulders, not his legs.

"You…you're done?"

"Yeah, bud, I'm all done. You did great. Here, drink some more water."

He accepts the cup and manages to lift it himself this time, Virgil's thumbs stroking gently over the seams of his shirt. The cool air of his room hits his still-damp skin and he shivers. "Are…are we to talk about what happened now?"

"I think that's a good idea, don't you?" He shrinks in on himself and Virgil's quick to lean forward, cupping the back of his head and carding a hand through his hair. "I'm not mad, L. I'm not gonna get mad. You don't have to be scared with me, I swear."

"You promise?"

He wants to flinch at how much a child he sounds, but Virgil just smiles. "I promise."

He closes his eyes, turning his face into the crook of Virgil's neck. Virgil's fingers keep working patiently against his scalp. He takes one deep breath, two, three.

"I was…talking with Patton."

"Okay."

"We were—I was—" he swallows— "I was trying to explain how I'm not—I don't—I don't feel things as strongly as he and Roman do all the time but that it's not the same thing as not feeling at all because it isn't, just because I don't yell or shout or proclaim my emotions for everyone to see doesn't make them less important or less valid just for—"

"Shh, easy." Virgil's hand rubs firmly up and down his back. "Hey, bud, you're okay."

He swallows. His chest starts to get tight again. "He wasn't listening to me."

"Can you say more?"

"He—he kept on trying to say that I did have feelings, even if they weren't the same as what I thought they should look like, but I do know what my feelings look like, I know better than him what they look like because they're my feelings, and I—" he chokes on a sob and Virgil shushes him again, whispering you're doing great— "I just got so mad."

Virgil rubs his back again, pulling away to push the cup of water into his hands again. "You got mad?"

He nods. "I…I yelled at him about how he didn't know what was best for me and he didn't—couldn't know what I was feeling because he's Thomas's emotions, not mine, and I didn't—I didn't mean to get so mad but it wasn't—I couldn't just explain it to him calmly because he wasn't listening but then he tried to tell me I was—I was—"

"Hey. Hey." Virgil takes his face in his hands, giving him the gentlest of shakes. "Look at me, L. Just look at me."

"I'm sorry, I—"

"Shh, shh, don't be sorry, you're not doing anything wrong. It's okay, you're okay, you're alright. It's just me, we're in your room, you're safe. Just take a second, calm down…shh, shh, that's it…that's it, L, you're doing great."

Logan takes a deep, shuddering breath. The lump in his throat grows. He truly didn't mean to shout at Patton. He didn't deserve it. He just got so frustrated and Patton wasn't listening and it—he—

"Is that why you came up here?" Virgil's question is gentle but stings no less. "Because you felt bad about it?"

"I don't like being angry," he croaks. "I don't like the person I become when I'm that angry."

"Oh, L…"

"I don't know how to be angry without being punished for it," he whispers, "and Patton—Patton just—he just—I—he couldn't—I can't—"

"What did he do? Or say?"

He sniffles. "He said that if I really did know about my feelings, then I wouldn't…then when I felt them, I wouldn't—I would know how to handle them."

Virgil's quiet for a long moment. Then he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like kick your ass that Logan's fairly certain is directed at Patton, not him, before he's being bundled up in another strong hug. "I'm really sorry, L, that was shitty of Patton to say."

"I didn't mean to—"

"Hey, uh-uh. We're not gonna do that now. We're gonna make sure you have enough water to drink, that you eat something, and that you rest, okay? Everything else can wait."

Logan nods. He takes another breath and holds onto Virgil. "What is it you say?"

"About what?"

"About later you?"

"Oh, right: that's a problem for Future Virgil. These are problems for Future Us to deal with, yeah? Trust me, I'm an expert problem identifier."

Virgil's shampoo smells like pine. Logan tucks his chin over his shoulder and hums. "You're wrong about just being that, by the way."

"Huh?"

"You always say that you don't solve problems, you just find them. But that's not true. You help. All the time."

"Aw, thanks, L. You're sweet."

"Does that count as an emotion?"

"'Sweet?' I dunno, let's ask Princey when we're up to it. For now, why don't you poof yourself into something more comfy and we'll watch an episode of that dumb game show you like making fun of."

"The one where the points system makes no sense?"

"Yep. That one. And, hey, Logan?" Virgil chucks him lightly under the chin with a smile. "I'm really proud of you."

"But I…relapsed."

"Yeah, but then you did all of this. You let me take care of you, we talked about it, we made sure you're okay for right now, and that shit's harder than people give it credit for. So yeah, bud, I'm super proud of you."

The smallest smile makes it to Logan's face.

***

The first thing Roman realizes when he wakes up is that he's somewhere soft and warm. Which is strange, because last time he checked, the bathroom floor where he thought he'd passed out is neither of those things.

Then he realizes there's a gloved hand adjusting the blankets tucked up under his chin and oh.

"Hi, sweetie," Janus says softly, patting his cheek, "good to have you back."

"How long…?"

"A few hours, at least. You were pretty exhausted." He raises his eyebrows. "Would you like to explain yourself, or should I?"

There's just enough gentle affection in his voice to keep the sting from overwhelming him, but he can't help but flinch away from it. Janus coos, leaning down to brush a kiss over his forehead, a cold un-gloved hand tucking itself against the side of his neck.

"You've been sick, sweetie, for days, and you've hidden it from all of us."

"Didn't—didn't mean to."

"Didn't mean to hide it, or didn't mean for it to get this bad?" Roman shuffles guiltily. Janus hums. "I found you on the floor of the bathroom, covered in sweat. I managed to get you into bed but you need to eat and drink something."

"Not hungry."

"You don't have much of a choice right now, Roman, you need something in you. Don't you dare," he threatens with a tap to Roman's nose when he opens his mouth, "I'll get Remus to help me bully you into taking care of yourself, don't think I won't."

"…okay."

"There we go. Come sit up, you've got more pillows than Sleeping Beauty's palace. Would you prefer juice or Gatorade?"

"…can I have blue?"

"Yes, you can have blue. Sit up, now…"

Roman carefully gets himself sitting upright, blankets still swaddling his lower half as Janus reaches for a small bottle on his nightstand. He manages about half of it before he gives it back. When Janus moves toward him with a snack, though, he closes his mouth and stubbornly turns away.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I have to get back to work."

"You don't have to do anything other than rest and get better."

"But we have movie night."

"Exactly. We don't have anything else to do other than relax, so you should try and rest up now so that if you feel up to it—if," he repeats sternly when Roman shrugs, "you feel up to it, you can join us."

"But that's not how it works."

"That's not how what works?"

"I don't get to relax during movie nights."

Janus pauses. There's a soft clunk as he sets the bowl back on the nightstand and then the cool hand is cupping Roman's cheek, thumb brushing over his flushed skin. He closes his eyes at the relief of it.

"What do you mean," comes Janus's soft voice, "that you don't get to relax during movie nights?"

"I don't get to."

"Say more, sweetie."

"That's not—that's not the point. That's not why we have them."

"That's precisely why we have them, Roman, so we can all de-stress and relax together."

"No, we have them so Thomas can relax."

"We—we're saying the same thing, Roman—"

"No, we aren't." Roman pulls away from the touch, burying his face in his hands and scrubbing harshly. Janus tuts, catching them and pulling them to his lips, kissing his knuckles. "Don't—what're you doing?"

Janus's eyebrows quirk. "Why am I treating you gently? Is that what you're asking?"

"…you're mad at me, so—"

"I'm not mad at you, sweetie." When Roman frowns, something flickers over his expression and settles on something way too close to devastation for Roman to be comfortable still holding eye contact, so he looks away as Janus lets out a quiet noise. "Oh, Roman…"

"What?"

"Can you look at me?" Roman drags his eyes back up and Janus squeezes his hands. "Why do you think I'm angry with you?"

"…you had to take care of me? I'm disagreeing with you? I'm not—you didn't—I haven't—"

"That's my fault," Janus interrupts with a sigh, "let me rephrase: I'm not angry with you, Roman. I'm not angry that I 'had' to take care of you, I'm upset because you needed taking care of and you didn't feel like you could let us know. I'm not angry that you're disagreeing with me, I'm concerned because you're telling me that something I thought was relaxing for you isn't actually relaxing at all. I'm not mad, you're not in trouble, I'm not going to—to punish you, I want to help."

Roman stares at him. That's more words than he's ever heard Janus say to him about feelings ever, and too many of them sound too perfect to be coming out of Janus's mouth at him. And as if he can hear those thoughts, Janus takes his un-gloved hand and brushes Roman's hair back from his damp forehead. An embarrassing noise leaves his mouth and he goes to pull away but then the other hand is cupping the back of his head and pulling him closer.

"Can you tell me why movie nights aren't relaxing for you?"

His jaw wobbles. "I have to—they're for Thomas."

"What does that mean? I'm not trying to make fun of you," he says quickly when Roman's mouth screws up, "I'm just trying to understand."

"It's for Thomas. That means I have to—I'm there for Thomas. I have to be watching the movie for Thomas. I'm not—that's not relaxing, nothing I do for Thomas is relaxing, it's work."

"But Thomas doesn't always come to our movie nights."

"So?"

Janus frowns. "So why would the ones where he's not there also be for him?"

"What does Thomas do to relax?"

"Let's see, he…well, he watches movies, he reads things, he watches shows, plays games with his friends…"

"He engages with stories."

Janus lets out a quiet oh. Roman closes his eyes. The pounding in his head is back.

"So it's…work. It's part of the 0.5%, or whatever it was."

"You know that Logan doesn't believe that anymore, don't you?" Roman's quiet for a little too long before Janus kisses his forehead again. "We'll talk to him when you feel better, okay?"

"Wait, 'we?'"

"You didn't think I'd leave you on your own to deal with things, did you?" At Roman's hopeful expression, he chuckles. "You're enough of a disaster already."

"Hey!" He smacks weakly at Janus's chest. "I'm sick, you have to be nice to me."

"And considering that's the first time you've admitted that you're sick, I'd say that proves my point."

"No fair."

"I know, I'm so mean to you," he murmurs, unable to keep all of the remorse from his voice as he kisses him again. "Shh, it's alright, sweetie, everything's going to be okay. Now go to sleep, you need it."

"Will you—can you stay?"

"Of course I can, sweetie. Rest, now. We can sort everything else out when you wake up."

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[noahs-blue-jeans]

Unspoken Moments

Desktop means title! this is a long one btw

I've been thinking about the unspoken moments between Byler which brings to mind that, for Season 5, they've cast young versions of Mike, Will, and Jonathan. I'm not the first to speculate that we'll be getting some Lonnie scenes, nor the first to probably suggest this, but I wanna parse it out anyway.

I think Mike and Will may have done something gay without realizing it, and Lonnie and Jonathan found them. Lonnie first, even. What could they have done? Any innocent thing lonely young gay boys would do: caught holding hands, sharing a space very closely (looking at Will's drawings in bed together perhaps). Any number of things that a fuck like Lonnie clocks as fag behavior.

And I think this could be the inflection point in both boys' sources of trauma, in regards to their internalized homophobia. A trauma that Mike took further to heart which didn't break until seasons 3 and sort of 4, when he becomes the way he is in those periods.

Parents are also, despite popular belief, not often stupid when reading their children. Lonnie is horrible and Ted Wheeler is a lame ass bitch, but they are still correct in clocking their sons' queerness the same as Joyce and Karen, who of course have a loving and accepting approach. Joyce is most explicit in accepting Will, and Karen gives Mike The Speech that many queer kids get from their well meaning parents, a big signal that she knows Mike loves will as more than just a friend.

Alongside this moment at 8 years old, I think both boys have become increasingly aware of how they behave with each other, and other moments may have happened off screen that we could see in S5 flashbacks.

Even in the 80s, little gay boys knew they are gay and liked their best friends. I have no doubt Mike--as much as Will--is aware that he loves his best friend romantically. You know how you feel about people, even at a young age, and in the moments of Mike's solitude, after spending time with El and playing at kissing, you cannot tell me he doesn't instead think about Will. That he doesn't think about when they'd play together, or watch movies just them, or when they would sit close and look at Will's drawing together. That fingers or knees would touch and they're too young to really notice the implications, but they know they like it and each other.

This, to me, adds to the many explanations for Mike's behavior in seasons 3 and 4, and why he begins to come around by the end of the latest season, since he's old enough to be physically unable to deny it anymore, and beginning to accept that he and El won't work because of how he feels about Will. I like to imagine that those few times Mike's calls got through, he and Will would exchange a few pleasantries but then they'd sit there in silence, not even realizing they're listening to the other's breathing. A tension felt across the continent, sure as the sun sets in the west.

This freaks them both out, we don't see it, and instead we see Will coming to terms with his feelings as best he can by way of The Painting; Mike, in contrast, puts on a false persona to hide from these feelings.

In conclusion! I think these two shared some unspoken, unseen moments that we will soon get in flashbacks and Vecna Visions, and we will see these boys go on the journey of accepting them and finding power in the love they've always shared.

[fairyspheres]

i saw that dragon age veilguard hasn't sold well (in the official statement, they specifically said that 1.5 million copies had 'reached players' so it must have sold even worse than that which. yikes) and while i'm quite gutted about that, ea and bioware also only have themselves to blame for it.

they let ten entire years pass between inquisition - a game that, for the most part, dragon age fans generally really like, at least for the lore - and veilguard. in those years, we saw them make andromeda, anthem, and heard reports of them trying to make the-then new dragon age game live service. thankfully we didn't get a live service dragon age game in the end, but a lot of the original writers were dropped, and i think that shows with the quality of the writing in veilguard.

i've never played dragon age for the gameplay, in any of the games. i despise the gameplay in origins - it's clunky and horrible and the deep roads makes me want to let the darkspawn win. but i love the story, which is why i endure the deep roads and the fade. the same in da2, which is probably my favourite of the entire series, even with the repeating dungeons (actually i love the repeating dungeons. i like knowing where things are), and the same in inquisition with the companions who feel like real people (cassandra pentaghast my beloved).

veilguard... the cuts show in the writing quality. the best character was emmrich (and assan and manfred) and from what i've heard he also had the best romance. which is another thing that suffered greatly - the romances (other than emmrich's). in a game series known for its romances, to the point where bioware was marketing the game as the most romantic as the series, how have they managed to mess it up that badly? cullen and solas' romances were late game additions in inquisition, and they're some of the best in the entire series, so it can't be an issue of time constraints.

rook's dialogue choices were essentially just different flavours of pleasant. do you want to be cheerful, lesser purple-hawke, or stoic? there's no real choice to be had throughout most of the game. even the choice between minrathous and treviso has little impact beyond what merchants might be available and a couple of later game choices. compared to earlier games, where you could let an entire village be overrun by corpses, or let fenris be taken back by danarius, the lack of choice is rather stark in comparison. the only real choices come at the very end of the game.

AND speaking of choices - the entire series has been about how all our previous choices have always mattered, about how we can always carry them over and use them to influence the world. so it was very much a slap in the face when not only could we not use the dragon age keep or import any choice beyond who we romanced in inquisition and what we wanted to do with solas, but the fact that by the end of veilguard, everything we did from origins to inquisition was all for nothing. bioware's choice to do that to varric was a kick in the teeth to long-term fans. oh, we got a little reference to the hero of ferelden in weisshaupt, how nice. pity they didn't tell us whether they're still alive or not. a shame we don't know hawke's fate.

so no, i'm not surprised that the game did so poorly in sales. i'm disappointed, but i'm not surprised because as i said, it's their own fault. i said back in november that they might not have another chance to make things right, and i hate that i might've been right about that.

this turned into an unintentional rant about all my grievances with the game.

[heartfullofleeches]

Besides the supernatural harem and some of the other already established groups, which of your yanderes would work well together or be willing to share a darling? Follow up question, let’s say the darlings could date or be friends with each other, who do you think would like each other?

I don't want to make this too long so here are a few off the top of my head. There are plenty more that could work with each other, moreso speaking with the Darlings because my Yans are greedy and want their darling to themselves.

Spencer and Miller would be a good pair. They both like to mess around with their Darling so they'd act like they didn't have an interest with one another while flirting with their Darling, and pretend to be shocked when Darling doesn't know they're already an item.

Aspen and Selene would keep tabs on their separate darlings while they're out and about because that's what friends do, and they enjoy chatting over tea.

D.Kay and Laughingstock would butt heads often, but with the androids need for making people smile and the slasher's desire to make people laugh they'd be a match in hell - competing to see who can make Darling happier.

Calliope and Sammy cover each other's tracts with Callie doing the dirty work of killing whoever touched their darlings and Sammy getting rid of the bodies at the family funeral home. The murders are usually an "accident" because her anger gets the better of her.

Several higher profile Yans such as Saber or Honey would have Adonis on speed-dial since he's an expert at cleaning crime scenes.

-

Puppyboy and Bunnyboy streamer Darlings were implied to be friendly with each other at some point. With Puppy's fitness focus and Bunny's love for cooking I could see them as a cute couple/close friends with Bunny making meals fit for Puppy's diet.

Jester, Clown, and Mime darling also had a blurb were they were all friends. These silly dorks will escape the most elaborate traps their yans set up to keep them contained just to see their best buds.

Hybrid Cafe Worker Darling could help "Sheep" Darling with their insecurities. The least they could do is give the wolf Sheep a well needed hug.

Sleepyhead and Nightlight Darling would be inseparable. Android who's basically a walking sleep aid with a person who sleeps majority of the day. Jellyfish Darling would also like Nightlight because of their glow. Moth Darling too.

Everglades Darling could befriend nearly any hybrid/animal coded monster Darling.

Incubus Darling, specifically the one deprived of relief by priest yan, would give Loser Darling a run for their money.

Groundskeeper Darling admires Taxidermist Darling's craft and would bring them the bones/skin of dead things they find lying around.

Creep Darling, the one secretly likes cute things, would have a crush on Bunnyboy and "Sheep" or at least like to keep them as pets.

FFR is besties with all the strange or "human?" darlings like Groundskeeper or Mime. Stoner Darling is their plug

[maculategiraffe]

did y'all see the m. night shyamalan movie trap. if you didn't I am about to spoil the denouement. not for no reason but I will go under a cut just in case when I get to the spoiler part

but what isn't really a spoiler because it's the premise and established within five minutes is that it's about a serial killer, well played by josh hartnett, and his little teenage daughter, delightfully played by an incredibly charming and talented child named ariel donoghue who I devoutly hope has loving parents or guardians making sure she doesn't get ate by hollywood, attending a very big and exciting concert by the in-universe equivalent of like taylor swift or beyoncé, played by director m. night shyamalan's real life daughter saleka night, a singer-songwriter in real life. and in the movie the cops have found a receipt for a ticket to this concert at one of the serial killer's crime scenes, so they know he plans to attend and have set up like a cordon at the concert venue and all the venue employees as well as the star ("lady raven") and her entourage are aware of the police presence and of the reason for it and have agreed to allow the concert to function as a police trap for the serial killer.

(it is not made clear, at least to me, how the police plan to figure out which concertgoer is the serial killer before everybody goes home. they have a shot from a security camera of a tattoo he might have, unless the guy on the security camera with the tattoo isn't the killer but just some random passerby, and they also have an fbi profiler who keeps wandering around with a tummy ache face saying insightful things about the killer and his motivations. that does not seem good enough to pick him out from five million concertgoers but whatever. when the killer finds out about the trap he seems alarmed and feels the need to escape. so I guess HE thinks it's going to work anyhow)

oh and also the killer has a victim in progress locked in a room where he can use his phone to remotely trigger the release of poison gas to kill the victim. if he decides to do so. and the trigger is also on a timer I think so if they take his phone away so that he can't activate it then he also can't deactivate it and the victim dies anyway. I think

anyway events progress and it's actually a pretty fun ride thanks to the charm of the stars and the fact that saleka night is a pretty good singer-songwriter! but here's the spoiler part

the killer finally doesn't have any better ideas than leaving the concert WITH lady raven (the star) since her exit is the only one that won't be scrutinized? and so he ends up sort of kidnapping lady raven to his house, without any real plan (I think) of what to do after basically kidnapping taylor swift, just wanting to get out of the stadium at all costs

but at some point at his house lady raven manages to grab his phone and lock herself in the bathroom with it and log into her instagram or tiktok or whatever and post a live stream of herself. and the cool part is that the first thing she says is all the clues the killer has dropped in conversation as to where the victim is being held. and you can see the live chat over her face on the screen going "is this a joke?" / "I've seen a statue like that" / "she looks really scared" / "my cousin lives near a house with a view like that" and you can actually watch the collective power of her fans come together to find the victim and they actually save the victim!!! the cops are able to locate the house and find the room and get him out safe!

and I know the internet is a force for evil as well as good (and for neutral. it's just a real big force) but I love that so much because I love the idea that people coming together, working together on a problem, everyone adding what they can, everyone bringing their individual experiences and memories and voices to the table, can actually work! that if we all just keep speaking up, and saying what we know, and living as best we know how, in front of other people, and not hiding, and joining assertively and intentionally with the human project, we're going to get there. we're going to solve this. we're going to solve everything. the earth is a giant computer built by mice to calculate the big question of life the universe and everything and by god we are on the fucking job!!