ambiguousanalysts

[ambiguousanalysts]

Kitchen Disasters (H.S)

The following fan fiction is based on this idea. I hope you like it because I definitely had fun writing this.

My Main Masterlist is here.

Harry Styles Masterlist is here.

Summary: Harry’s attempt at making Mother’s Day lunch.

Warnings: mentions of food and swearing.

._._._._.

What is he thinking? He can’t cook to save his life. Sure, he knew how to bake when he was a mere sixteen year old but now he simply can’t. Admittedly, you are the cook in this relationship.

‘Come on, man, you’ve got this. Get it together.’

With the mantra repeating in his mind, he gets to work. Thank god, you weren’t awake to see the disaster that was about to ensue. You would’ve had his head served on the platter instead of the steak.

Harry wasn’t here for mother’s day because he had to fly out to Italy for some dress rehearsals with Allesandro and Harry Lambert for his upcoming public appearances. You wanted to go with him but having a six month old toddler and a four your old pre schooler wasn’t exactly an ideal traveling situation. Handing Harry the children the moment he came back, you trotted off to your bedroom for some much needed sleep. If you knew having two kids would’ve been this stressful, you wouldn’t have allowed Harry within a six mile radius of you. Oh, who were you kidding, its Harry Styles. No one can resist that narcissist’s charm.

“Where’s the bloody pan? Y’shouldn’t have bought a damn mansion. Who needs one anyway?” Clattering of the silver is possibly echoing throughout the kitchen but he cannot bring himself to care. Harry’s main concern is finding the right utensils for his venture. You were going to get a steak, no matter what. You deserved a nice lunch for taking care of your children alone when it was both of yours’ responsibility.

The cabinets are thoughtfully organized because let’s admit it, you are a bit of a control freak. Rummaging through them really makes a mess but he is nothing if not a man on a mission. Once he finds the right cabinet, he jumps, forgetting he is six feet tall in all the excitement.

‘Ow! (Y/N) always told y’to close the cabinets. Y’should listen to her but please god, don’t let her notice this bruise. She’ll be t’smug.’

Taking out the frosted meat from the freezer, he dumps it right into the frying pan. The meat is already defrosting a little bit so he figures it shouldn’t be a problem.

‘Hmm, should I use the sauce pan instead, don’t want the oil t’spill.’

The transfer proves a little difficult when the steaks keep slipping out of the tongs and onto the marble tops.

‘These bloody steaks need a spankin’, I swear.’

The olive oil is thankfully right besides the stove so he didn’t have to go on another wild hunt. After spraying a generous amount into the sauce pan, he has one more task to achieve: turning the stove on.

Tick, tick

Tick, tick

Tick, tick

“Daddy, y’need to use the gun.”

“Huh, wha’?” There at the entryway, stands your mini replica with a slight frown on her face. The folded arms, the foot tapping, and the glare hauntingly reminds Harry of his wife. Maybe it would’ve been better if you had busted him. Atlas was a stickler for rules and cleanliness even at the mere age of four which is not exactly an ideal thing for the beloved rockstar. You aren’t the only woman that bosses him around the house. From the moment Atlas learnt to walk, she was already organizing her stuffed animals and having proper tea parties with her parents. She wasn’t the one to mess around with and now, right in this moment, she is definitely pissed off at the sight of the messy kitchen with the open cabinets and the cutlery haphazardly thrown on the floor.

“Y’gotta light it up, daddy.”

“But it’s electrical, pet.”

“Mummy lights it up w’this.” Handing him a gas lighter, she stares him right in the eyes with an annoyed glare.

“Th- Thank y’darling. Guess it’s not electrical, then.” He knew he wasn’t helping his case but he was breaking under her intense gaze. In the trials of parenthood, he has found nothing to be scarier than the glare of his four year old .

“Daddy, Arty threw her binky at me and woke m’up.”

Sighing, he turns the stove on and starts taking milk out of the refrigerator. He just knows that Artemis is going to be in one of her moods and that the nap hasn’t worked. Now, he has two cranky babies instead of one. Just great.

“Y’want a pouch, baby?”

The chubby finger came onto her chin because this was such a big decision. Well, it was a big decision for a four year old. “Applesauce, please.”

“Thank yeh for using your manners, darling.”

Atlas moves towards the living room with the pouch tucked between her puffy lips. Walking towards Atlas’s room, he was glad that he had put pillows around the bed for both of them because Artemis was rolling towards the corner. She has been mobile from the past one month and it has been one hell of an experience. Every single day, she tries to find new ways to escape her crib and injure herself in the process.

“Come on, li’l monkey. I bet you’re hungry.”

“Dadda! Dadda!” The feeling that comes with this one word has never gotten old and for this, Harry has only one person to thank: you.

“Yeah, ‘m your daddy. Come on, let’s get y’fed up.” Softly gazing at her as she peacefully sucks on her bottle, Harry thinks back to the first time he met you. A journalist running into him during the Grammy Awards. Harry has never been glad that his thousand dollar suit was ruined because he met you through that incident. You are still as feisty and ferocious as you were back then. Really keeping the relationship alive.

Seeing his little creation flapping her feet around and fervently sucking on the bottle, he starts his one sided conversation.

“It’s just tha’ yummy, li’l monkey.”

“I understand, I’ve tasted it as well.”

“Your mummy’s amazin’, isn’t she?”

“Love m’three girls so much.”

Time flies by when he is with her because she is a perfect mixture of both you and him. This little girl came into the world very early and there was a heavy chance that she might not have survived. However, she fought her way through this world and here she is, safe in his arms. To imagine a life without one of his girls is more painful than a knife stabbing at his heart.

“Daddy, somethin’ is burning.”

“What are y’talking about?”

“The smell, daddy.” Sometimes it really felt like she was the parent in this dynamic.

“Oh shit!”

“No cursing, daddy!” Correction: she is the parent in this relationship.

“Sorry, pet. Let’s go downstairs and see if mama’s lunch is alrigh’.”

Harry should be thankful that Atlas is listening to him today because she does not move from her seat while he tends to the charred meat. Artemis keeps looking at her father with curious eyes as he runs around the kitchen to find a cloth. He doesn’t want the fire alarm to go off and wake you up.

“Daddy, whatcha lookin’ for?”

“A cloth, baby.”

“Why?”

“For t’alarm.”

“Y’can open the window.” Halting in his steps, he does not acknowledge her statement and just goes to open the window above the sink. No need to give her the satisfaction.

’This meat can be salvaged. She’d just ‘ave to chew a li’l bit more.’

Next come the mashed potatoes because no one likes to serve steak without them. The only problem is that he didn’t know where the potato peeler is so he has to use the knife. Towards the end, there are not many potatoes left to boil. But they have to do because he is running out of time. Soon, the potatoes are boiled and Harry gets to working on them.

‘The potatoes shouldn’t be stained. Did (Y/N) use water in the mashed potatoes? I think she did. They’ll be t’dry without it.’

A whole stick of butter is thrown into the pot along with five tea spoons of salt. The pepper, on the other hand, is a totally different case. The container does not budge and he knows his trainer would have his ass if he could see the struggle right now.

The cap twists unexpectedly and the powder directly flies into his eyes. “My eyes! Oh, m’eyes!”

Running to the sink, he tries to open the faucet but he can’t open his eyes to see a damn thing. After several tries, the water starts coming but it doesn’t really help matters.

“Daddy, I don’t think y’should cook.”

“Thanks, pet.” He knows that a four year old doesn’t understand sarcasm but he can’t help himself.

When it doesn’t seem like his eyes will melt, he goes towards the stove and slowly starts working on the mashed potatoes. Safe to say, he is afraid of another disaster.

Hot potato, hot potato

Hot potato, hot potato

Hot potato, hot potato

Potato, potato, potato

“That’s our song, daddy!”

“Oh, that’s where I heard it.”

“Daddy, dance?” A small tradition between the duo is to dance on the Wiggles’ song. It has been there since she took her first steps and Harry silently hopes that it will never go away.

“Always, baby.”

Cold spaghetti, cold spaghetti

Cold spaghetti, cold spaghetti

Cold spaghetti, cold spaghetti

spaghetti, spaghetti, spaghetti

Spinning around the kitchen, he can’t help but look at his daughter with utter love and devotion. She is his second love after you and she made him a father. The feeling of holding a bundled up baby for the first time was an experience he still cannot put into words.

Whooo, wiggy wiggy wiggy

Whooo, wiggy wiggy wiggy

“Arty, y’can do this with dadda until y’start walking. You better do, pet.”

“I don’t think she cares, daddy.” Again, she is right. Artemis appears to be more interested in fitting her whole fist in her mouth rather than looking at them.

When he is finally done with cooking, he doesn’t want to focus on the fact that the mashed potatoes are still looking a little slimy. He will just call them his special dish. Everyone has their own unique dish. Taking the tray in his hand, he walks upstairs with Atlas hot on his tail.

I'm on the roof

You're in your airplane seat

I was nose bleeding

Looking for life, out there

Reading your horoscope

You were just doing cocaine

In my kitchen, you never listen

I hope you're missing me by now

He has been singing his songs for a very long time in the house so Artemis isn’t even phased by it. The moment he opens the door, he sees you leaning on the headboard with your phone in your hand.

“I was about to come down-“ You were cut off by your husband’s singing and you weren’t going to complain. A free Harry Styles concert? Who would say no to that?

If I was a bluebird

I would fly to you

You'd be the spoon

Dip you in honey

So I could be sticking to you

The small shimmy that he does from your door to the bed tempts you to make a video of him. He looked so good in his simple grey joggers with tattoos on display and slightly tousled hair. An epitome of beauty, if someone asks you.

“Hi, baby. What’s all this?”

“Just to show a li’l appreciation for my baby mama.”

“H, what is this?” Looking at the tray, you can’t help but wonder if the food is actually edible.

“This is food tha’ I prepared with m’sweat and blood.”

“Thank you, baby but this doesn’t exactly look edible.”

“Y’have to try it.”

When Atlas comes sits beside you, you realise that your other daughter isn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Harry, where’s Arty?”

A realisation dawns upon him and he exclaims sheepishly, “Oh, that’s wha’ I was forgetting. Be back in a jiff.”

“Till then I’m going to try this out.” A sense of dread fills your stomach as soon as you cut into the steak. It didn’t look well done but you thought that it’ll be okay as you liked it medium-rare anyways.

“This is definitely raw.” Spitting the meat out in to the napkin, you tried to wash the taste down with water.

“Here’s the bub.” Artemis didn’t look up as she was too invested in biting onto his shoulder with the single new tooth that had made its appearance known a few days back. Excitement seeping through his voice, he asked “How’s t’steak?”

“Are you trying to give me salmonella?”

“Darlin’, isn’t that a fish?”

“Harry, it’s a disease.”

“Oh.”

“Please never help our kids with homework.”

Dramatically, he places his hand on his chest in mock offence. Although, he isn’t ashamed to admit that you are the smart one out of you two.

“Try out t’mashed potatoes. They are m’own recipe.”

Looking at him with a silent wonderment, you voiced out your question, “Isn’t there just one recipe for mashed potatoes?”

“Oh hush.” Taking the spoon from your hand, he feeds you a mouthful.

“Harry, it’s too salty!”

“But-“

Cutting him off, she put the tray aside, she pulls him closer, “Don’t fret about the food. Thank you so much for doing this, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too. Let’s go out today and m’mum can take the bubs today.”

“Then maybe when we come home, you can show me your real appreciation.”

“Y’got yourself a deal.”

._._._._.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

A/N: So I have been working on this for a couple of days and @peculiarpenman and @pettinesspersonified have been helping me with it. A big thank you to both of them because they are the ones who do most of the work. I have been currently obsessed with Harry’s album so I added one of my favorite songs into this piece. Hope you guys love it!! Do let me know. Love y’all!!

Like, comment and reblog.

._._._._.

[ambiguousanalysts]

Familial Bliss (H.S)

My Main Masterlist is here.

Harry Styles Masterlist is here.

Summary: Y/N surprising Harry on his concert with their baby.

Warnings: none :)

._._._._.

Thinking of surprising your husband on his tour, you decided to take your little munchkin with you to his LA concert this time. Normally, you would never do anything like this because you both didn’t want Phoebe to be showcased all over the TMZ articles. 

The phone beside you kept popping up with texts but your focus was currently on the two-year-old. Phoebe, who has recently been keen on making posters and family pictures, is currently sitting next to you and trying to make her version of a fan poster.

You come to help her after her mini tantrum of not getting it right. She is a perfectionist like her beloved father. Gently guiding her hands on the paper, you quickly completed the writing part of the poster. Phoebe then comes up with an idea to fill the blank sides with her colored handprints. Soon, the whole poster appears as a unicorn thrown upon it. Some of the letters might have even been caught in the chaos. 

Soon, the time to leave for the stadium came so you made sure to double-check all your things. The trickiest part was to get into the stadium without the fans spotting you or Phoebe. However, Jeff always came through and you made it at the exact moment Harry was about to step on the stage. 

Instead of going backstage to wish him good luck, you made your way to the VIP section in the pit. Phoebe had her noise-canceling headphones placed the moment you entered the stadium. Safety always came first. You were excited to see your husband’s reaction because this was the first time your daughter was coming to one of his concerts.

“Hey, New York! ‘m Harry and I think y’all are here to listen to m’songs.” The smugness in his voice couldn’t be hidden but the crowd didn’t seem to mind. 

Little hands shifted your line of vision towards herself. Looks like she can't share your attention with anyone. After all, she is her father's daughter.

The crowd went wild the moment the ‘Golden’ tune came alive. Phoebe stared out in wonder towards the expanse of the crowd cheering for her father. She has never seen so many people together in her life. The moment Harry’s figure came into view, you tilted your daughter’s head towards the stage. 

“Look, there's daddy!!” You hoped that she could make sense of your words a little bit because you didn’t want her to miss Harry’s entrance.

He didn’t notice right away but when his eyes landed on you both, a mixture of surprise and excitement passed through them. Phoebe gave her father a toothy smile and you are glad that Jeff is recording the whole encounter. 

“Looks like we have a special guest with us tonight, ladies and gentlemen.” You came into focus on the big screen behind him and the crowd is instantly in awe of the little girl in your arms.  Waving at her father, she lay her head on your shoulders. “Alright, you are here for me so all attention should be on me.”

“Ever the narcissist.” You are quite sure that Harry can read your lips because a crooked smirk appeared on his lips. 

Harry starts the concert instantly after your little family interaction. You started to lightly dance to TPWK. However, you couldn’t do the whole routine like always because you couldn’t let Phoebe down. Sure, there were not a lot of people in the VIP section but you didn’t want to risk it. The smile didn’t leave your daughter’s lips for one second and you were glad that you thought of this surprise. 

There was an extra hip in his step today because he wanted to show off in front of his little love. He has been secretly wishing to take Phoebe to one of his concerts for a long time. You have been hesitant regarding this in the past but now it didn't matter. He spends extra time giving attention to the two of you throughout the concert and your daughter is enjoying every little bit.

“This song was written for m’little dove.”

“She knows the routine better than me. But she’s forgiven because of her cuteness.”

“Y'all, don't be jealous but m’daughter is my biggest fan.” 

Soon, Phoebe fell asleep due to exhaustion and excitement. Your daughter could sleep anywhere anytime; It is a trait you and her share. You held her in your arms because only the last song was remaining. You really didn’t want to miss the ‘whale’. 

“I need y’all to be a li’l quiet because m’princess is taking a nap. Guess she finds her dad born’.”

“Boohoo!” The whole crowd was really eating the small interactions between Harry and his family. It was extremely rare to get a glimpse of the rockstar’s private life. 

“Now now, we don’t ‘boohoo’ m’angel. Her sleep is more important than m’concert.” Looking at the crowd, he playfully shrugged his shoulders. “Those are just the facts.” You laughed along the fans at his mischievousness and brought Phoebe closer to yourself. 

The moment the concert ended, you made your way backstage to meet up with your husband. After giving you a kiss, he took Phoebe from your arms.

“H, I think I should carry her. You must be tired right now.”

“It’s okay, baby. I missed her so much. Thank y’ for the surprise, I loved it.”

“Anything for you, H.”

"Now let's get her t'bed so I can properly thank you."

"Shh, someone might hear you."

"So wha', this baby in my arms is a living proof that we did it." A laugh escaped his lips after seeing you blush on his crude innuendos. "Let's go home, baby."

._._._._.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

A/N: I have been giving my pre med entry test for the past two months and I have finally gotten around to opening my blog. I know I haven't been the most active but I had to focus on my studies. Now that they are out of the way and I'm about to be done with my uni applications, I finally will be able to focus more on my writing. Thank you for waiting for me guys, I love you. Special thanks to @peculiarpenman for helping me out with life in general; be it writing or my daily mental breakdowns. @pettinesspersonified I hope you like this because you are a part of my writing journey as well. Thank you both❤️🧡

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._._._._.

[ambiguousanalysts]

Dance with Me? (C.E)

My Main Masterlist is here.

Chris Evans Masterlist is here.

Summary: a song can be associated with many memories...

Warnings: none.

._._._._.

Seldom, do you and Chris ever throw a party. You both love your friends, yes but with all sincerity, the pair of you prefer to much rather sit at home, cuddle, watch a couple of sappy romance films; just enjoy a mundane intimate night. However, you both are actors and with that, comes the responsibility of maintaining your social lives. 

Planning a party is dreadful and still to this day, one of the reasons you try to delay doing things like this to the last minute possible. 

“Darling, you look great,” near the entryway, he keeps his gaze trained on you as you keep fumbling with the back of your dress.

“As if. I can’t get this stupid dress to knot. My hair is all kinds of frizzy today and my makeup looks horrendous.” A scoff makes its way past your lips the moment you finished your little rant.

“Say whatever you want; I’m standing by my statement.”

“You and your politically correct statements.” 

He knows that you don’t exactly approve of his recent endeavors so he tries to steer clear of the conversation. “Darling, you don’t see what I see.”

“What? An insufferable mess?”

“No, the prettiest woman alive.”

“Nice save, dumbass.”

Walking towards her, he speaks in a playful tone. “We still on that nickname?”

“Yes, for all eternity. I addressed you as dumbass in my vows so it’s legally my obligation.”

Crowding you up from the back, he gently takes a hold of the silk belt hanging loose by your sides and tugs you backwards flat against his chest. Teasingly, you glare at him through the mirror but he doesn’t really seem to care. Tying it in a perfect knot, he places a kiss on your shoulder and murmurs with affection lacing his voice, “Can’t wait to take you out of this dress.”

“How romantic.”

“It’s the best way to express m’love.”

“Sure, dumbass. Go downstairs and entertain the guests, just have to make some improvements.”

“See you on the other side.”

As he starts to walk out, you call after him with a hint of sarcasm dripping from your tone, “Stop being such an actor.”

“Too far gone, can’t stop now, darling.”

You can’t help but laugh as he leaves. 

Some people are very punctual because the moment the clock struck eight, a stream of cars came pouring into your driveway, one after the other. Chris didn’t want to rush you because you have been pretty stressed out lately. Your new upcoming project might have been a source of it so Chris was trying to give you space. 

“Any new projects you working on, Evans?” Pulling him out of his thoughts Robert came to stand right next to him. 

“You’ll get to know with the rest of the world.”

“You seriously think your fans don’t know that you’re starring in the Gray Man?”

Mouth a gape, he couldn’t formulate a proper sentence without stuttering. Sometimes, he truly did forget his fan base’s crazy devotion to him. Thank God, you weren’t here because you would’ve never let him live it down. 

The small group formulating around him subtly shifted their attention to the stairs and Chris didn’t have to turn around to guess who had captured their attention. 

“Can I have this dance?” Turning around to face you, he let a smile grace his lips. After your first party together where you asked him for a first dance, it has been like this ever since. You like to recreate moments; be it your first date or your first dance. 

“Of course, m’lady.”

Swaying to the beat of the song, he soon came to a realization that it is the same song you both danced to the first time. A loud laugh escapes him when he realizes that you are behind this. 

“You really are something else, babe.”

“And you love me for it.” Lips close to his ear, she lightly whispers to him. 

What would I do without your smart mouth?

Drawing me in and you kicking me out

You've got my head spinning, no kidding

I can't pin you down

What's going on in that beautiful mind

I'm on your magical mystery ride

And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me

But I'll be alright

“You’re so cheesy.” 

“What? I just really like the song.” Dipping you in his arms, he brings you a little bit more closer than you would deem appropriate for a public setting. Oh, but who are you to complain. “Boy, you really are not good at this whole dancing thing.”

“Excuse me, mister? I’m not the one with two left feet.”

“If I ask any other girl to dance with me here, they won’t constantly be stepping on my feet.”

“What makes you think any girl would like to dance with you, old man?” 

He speaks after bringing you back in his arms, “Babe, everyone wants me. Now hush, my favorite part is coming.”

'Cause all of me

Loves all of you

Love your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me

I'll give my all to you

You're my end and my beginning

Even when I lose I'm winning

You know that you shouldn’t be tearing up at these words but it is a reminder of all the good moments with your husband. Your first kiss, your first date, your wedding and now your first baby.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Wha- What?” 

“Don’t stop dancing, Chris. We don’t want everyone to know.”

After getting his bearing back, he whispers softly, “I’m so lucky to have you and our life is perfect.”

“I wouldn’t change anything about it.”

“Nothing, baby.” A gentle kiss at the end of the song sealed the promise of forever between you both. “Perfect time, I guess.”

“Perfect time.”

._._._._.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

A/N: There was a note from editor that I think I should keep to myself for now💀 @peculiarpenman. Hope you all enjoy this because it has been sitting in my drafts for too long😊

P.S. poster credits: @peculiarpenman

Like, comment and reblog.

._._._._.

[ambiguousanalysts]

My Person (C.E)

My Main Masterlist is here.

Chris Evans Masterlist is here.

Summary: Chris doesn't win the Oscar and you are there to comfort him.

Warnings: slight angst and comfort.

._._._._.

“And the winner for the Best Actor goes to Chris… Hemsworth.” You know that you and Chris will have to keep appearances in front of the camera right now. Everyone seems to be focusing more on you and your husband than the winner. Squeezing his hand under the table, you try to plaster on a smile.

The rest of the ceremony seem to have passed in a blur as you could see slight tears welling in your husband’s eyes. His hopes and dreams were let down yet again. After the ceremony, came the food and Chris mindlessly pushed the food around in his plate. You know that he hasn’t eaten anything since morning due to server but you just kept quiet. Now was neither the place nor the time.  Although, Chris did not eat a single thing the whole event, he really did not hold back on the alcohol. 

“Chris, I think you should stop now.” You murmur in his ear after he tells the waiter to bring another whiskey sour. 

“Why, Y/N? It’s a celebration and we should all fucking celebrate.” The slight edge in his voice lets you know to not push the matter any further so you try a different approach. 

“Come on, let’s go home. The ceremony is about to end as it is.”

Bitterly agreeing with you, he stands up and buttons his coat. “Shouldn’t have come to this waste of an event anyway.”

After saying proper goodbyes to your friends and colleagues, you make your way to the car where Chris is aggressively scrolling through his phone. Thank god, you both had decided on a chauffeur prior to the oscars because you don’t think either of you could have driven.

Your breaths seem to be the only source of sound in the car so you try to diffuse the tension. “Babe-“

“Don’t, Y/N. I’m not in the mood.” He carelessly throws his iPhone on the middle seat, running his fingers through the neatly gelled hair. 

The anger seems to follow him all the way to the house but you don’t say anything. “I’ll be upstairs. Once you’ve calmed down, we can talk about this baby.”

“Y/N, I ju- this is su-“ He wasn’t able to complete the sentence before a slight sob came out of him. 

“Oh, darling. I’m here. Talk t’me.” Slightly maneuvering him towards the couch, you sit right next to him. Instead of sitting down, he places his head on your lap and curls into your stomach. You let him stay like that as you lightly ran your hands through his air.

“I know this shouldn’t be a big deal because other awards will come. But I can’t shake off the disappointment like other times. I work hard for all my movies and I really thought that I will get acknowledged for it. You haven’t seen twitter or instagram, all of my fans are so sad. I let them down and I don’t think I can do this anymore. (Y/N), I can’t do this anymore. I can’t, I can’t, I can-“

“Calm down, baby. Don’t get yourself worked up.”

Snuggling into you a little bit more, he curls himself into a little ball. Your heart breaks a little after seeing him like this, so uncertain and unhappy. You know that he has a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders, be it a good actor, a good son or a good husband. Of course, it gets overwhelming sometimes and you feel slightly helpless in these situations. You want to be there for him but you don’t want to invalidate his feelings. 

“Chris, listen to me. I know you’re feeling lonely and lost right now. But it is going to be alright. There are ups and downs in our lives and I’m sure there is something great for you around the corner. There are some failures along the way but it just makes our victory all the more sweeter.” He looks at you through his lashes and silently waits for you to continue. “You have to take it one day at a time and I know you will get everything you desire. Babe, you know your worth and so do I. Don’t doubt yourself for one second. I’m your person and I will always be here for you. Talk to me whenever you want. I love you.”

“I love you too. Thank you, babe. I just want to sleep and forget about today.” Kissing you on the forehead, he silently thanks God for you. 

“We can do that, babes. Let’s just lay down.” Laying down on the couch, you snuggle into him and wait for this day to be over. 

._._._._.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

A/N: There's a special message in this blurb for someone very close to my heart:) Anyways, I hope you all enjoy it and let me know what you think.

P.S. poster credits: pinterest

Like, comment and reblog.

._._._._.

[ambiguousanalysts]

A borrowed moment of serenity

a Bruce Wayne fic

(Fem!Assistant!S/O)

Summary: Bruce dances with his assistant at his birthday dinner.

Warnings: Mention of alcohol. Mention of food.

Word count: 1.1k

Note: First time writing for Bruce, fingers crossed I did him justice. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and let me know what you think!! <3

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Standing in a corner, she feels like an invisible force, observing the crowd that has bestowed upon her a sense of brutal dismissal.

It pays her no mind.

Her eyes scan the pristine room, taking in the elites. They stand tall; posture poised, hair done proper and champagne glasses held prim.

She does not belong here.

Their chatter floods the atmosphere, high pitched and mainly compromising of untrue flattery, hoping to preserve transactional relationships. It is all a game of tactics and power.

It makes her insides burn at the duplicity.

The focus shifts, the room bursts into an applause, laced in deception. The people turn towards the entrance, blocked by heavy flashes and burly men playing security guards.

He walks in, confident and suave. Two women on each arm, they mimic his ease. His smile dazzles, keeping his audience captivated. They serenade him, chants, hoots, hollers, it all echoes off the white walls.

Bruce Wayne.

He makes rounds. Shakes hands, returns pleasantries. His smile remains, though it is not real. It does match his eyes, the tired blues begging for an escape. It seems only visible to her.

Nonetheless, his words drip like honey. They reach her in waves, like perfume, douse her in a sweetness that takes precedence, drowning out the insignificant noise of everyone else that simply does not matter. That simply does not compare to him.

He catches her eye and it is as if time slows down. His gaze remains as he makes his way to her. He dismisses everyone with a small wave of his fingers, the movement lazy and rude. He does not seem to care.

He fails to acknowledge the looks of offence, the gasps and the whispers.

His smile softens at the sight of her, dissipates the fake grin and appears one doused in truthful nature.

He stops directly in front of her, taking her in, scanning her and committing the sight to memory.

“You look beautiful,” he states, deep baritone breaking the aura of silence.

She smiles, lets out a small laugh, “I would sure hope so, you paid for this dress.”

He cannot help but follow in her steps, laughing slightly, “Well, I have good taste. Dance with me?”

With a smirk, his head is tilted to the side. He stares at her in glorious inquisition. His question does not read like one, there is a demand to it, impossible to say no to.

Hand to her open mouth, she lets out a faux dramatic gasp, “What will people say, Mr. Wayne, dancing with a woman you did not arrive with?”

He rolls his eyes at her antics, yet his smile remains prevalent. How could it not be, with the mirth twinkling between her irises?

He grabs her hand, intertwines their fingers and gracefully escorts her to the dance floor.

Situating them dead in the centre, he grabs her waist and places her free hand over his shoulder, “It’ll give them something to talk about.”

And talk, they do. They gape, they gawk, they gossip but to the pair, it fades into the background. Becomes a fleeting blur travelling into an unknown abyss. It encircles them, protecting them from a world of make believe for a borrowed moment.

“What about your lady friends?”

He snickers, gestures with his head to the sight of them occupied with two wealthy fellows, “I’m sure they’ll be entertained throughout the night.”

Twirling her around, he continues, “It’s all for show, don’t worry, you’ll always be my number one girl.”

She laughs at his jests but it is the beat of her rampant heart that recognises the genuinity swimming amongst them.

Swaying to the symphonies of the orchestra, Bruce admires her, gratitude dwindling amidst his irises. “You did a great job. Everything, it looks wonderful,” he says, looking around.

She scoffs, shakes her head lightly before staring at him with a bemused expression, “We all know you hate this, Mr. Wayne, let’s not pretend for my sake.”

He dips her, face hovering above hers, his whisper fans across her skin. In all its warmth and wonder, it sends her heart racing, “Not entirely.”

Resuming their positions, he smirks at her flustered nature, pulling her closer, he teases, “Giving up so soon?”

Dropping her hand from his shoulder, she lightly swats at his chest, “Behave. Now, come on, pretty sure Alfred’s bringing your cake out soon, you should head towards the table.”

She goes to turn but is halted by a pull on her wrist. Bruce stops her, tugs her back into him, arms encircling around her waist, he shoots her pleading look, “Two more minutes, please, I don’t want to face them right now. I just need…a moment.”

Sighing, she gives in. Sliding her arms upwards to his neck, she cups his cheek, rubbing her thumb against his stubble, she drops the formalities, “Bruce, you don’t have to keep partaking in these charades. You clearly aren’t comfortable. Is it really worth it?”

Closing his eyes, he leans into her touch. Taking a breath, he opens them, grabs her hand to place a chaste kiss into it before guiding it back to his neck.

“I need to, it’s the only way they don’t find out.”

There is an underlying tension, a cape of hesitance around him. The toll of a double life weighs heavy.

“Right, that slipped my mind, sorry,” she mutters, at a loss of solutions.

“Hey, don’t be. I just need you here, you know that right?”

He stares into her eyes, hoping to convey what it is that he truly feels.

“I’m here as long as you'll have me, Mr. Wayne.”

She knows.

Stepping impossibly closer, he leans down to rest his forehead against her. Eyes falling to a shut, a breathy whisper escapes him, “I’m betting on forever.”

She smiles and nuzzles her nose against his, “Forever is a long time.”

Moving to pull her into an embrace, he rests his chin on top of her head. Making eye contact with Alfred standing across the room, watching the pair interact with a wishful gaze, he sends a small grin towards the butler, “With you? It’s not nearly long enough.”

>───⇌••⇋───<

A/N: We’ve reached over 300 followers!! That’s absolutely insane. Thank you so much, for accompanying me on my writing journey, for reading my work, giving me feedback. You all are a major factor in my growth and i couldn’t be more grateful. Thank you for giving me a reason to write and I’m over the moon that so many of you enjoy my work. It means the absolute world to me.❤️

[ambiguousanalysts]

Yearning for eternity

a Jason Todd blurb

(fem!S/O)

Summary: in late hours of the night, the pair delve into a wishful conversation

Warnings: not proofread.

Note: I missed writing so much so here is a short, spontaneous piece while I work on something more structured. Hope you enjoy it!

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

“I want to be with you forever,” she croaks, voice riddled with a certain sleepy raspiness. Her words echo into the quiet room.

Late at night, it is just the pair of them, entrapped in love fuelled haze.

“Forever is a long time,” Jason teases, mirth dangling amidst the words. But even in the dark, she knows his smile is genuine.

Moving closer, she cuddles into him. Hand laid across his bare front, she rests her head in the crook of his neck. In immediacy, he leans on top of it.

It is derived from familiarity. It is all that they know.

Each other.

“All the more reason to want it.”

Silent, he tugs her in closer. Her firm affirmations inciting an irrational unsteadiness to the beating of his heart.

Sighing, she continues, “I miss you when you’re away. Sometimes I wish everything would just…disappear so that it could just be the two of us.”

A sharp blade, reflecting the light, he feels it painfully pierce through his skin.

A hope. A dream. A desire for it to transfigure into their very own reality.

“Soon it’ll all be different.”

Within the sincerity of his words resides a promise.

“Then you’ll be mine forever?” she laughs, perhaps at the sheer absurdity or perhaps at sheer glee. All he knows is it is a sound he craves to hear on repeat.

Huffing out a breath of air, he presses a kiss onto her head.

“Forever.”

[ambiguousanalysts]

Conversation of promises

a Bruce Wayne blurb.

(Fem!S/O)

Summary: Bruce makes a promise of his survival.

Warnings: Mention of blood. Mention of injury. Mention of alcohol.

Note: This is very simple but I hope you like it nonetheless.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

“You’re mad.”

There is a certain smugness to his tone. Sitting atop a table, he watches her rummage through supplies with sheer amusement.

Pausing, she huffs, “I’m not mad.”

Her tone is clipped. It makes him smile.

“No? What are you, then?” Bruce muses, deriving joy from teasing her in her worrisome state.

Turning, she walks towards him with the necessary things. Setting them next to him, she grabs a piece of cotton doused in alcohol. Cleaning the bloodied bruise on his arm, she sighs, “I’m upset.”

Igniting a flame within him, he feels the fire swallow up the light. Her distress his Achilles heel.

“I’m fine. It’s not too bad-a few scraps and bruises,” he attempts to reassure, attempts to calm the storm of concern brewing inside of her.

“What about the next time?” her voice quivers, failing to disguise the fear of his untimely demise.

Grabbing her hand, he forces her to stop, pulling her to stand between his spread legs. Placing two fingers beneath her chin, he urges her to look at him, “Nothing’s going to happen.”

Gazes locked, she pleads for him to understand, “You’re not invincible, Bruce.”

“No, I’m Batman.”

Unexpected, she lets out a laugh, lightly slapping at his chest with no real intention of pushing him away, “Stop, that was so bad.”

Grinning, he grabs the back of her head and tugs her close. He places a kiss onto her forehead before resting his against hers and closing his eyes.

She follows suit.

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

“You can’t promise me that,” she whispers, a melancholic haze tainting her words.

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

Firm. Assured. Genuine.

“Okay.”

Within his statement lies a promise, an oath. Bloodied, battered and bruised, he will always come back to her, for she is his home.

She is his forte.

[ambiguousanalysts]

An image of bliss

a Jason Todd blurb

(Fem!S/O)

Summary:Jason and his s/o enjoy a quiet moment in a library together.

Warnings: none!

Note: dedicated to the lovely @citrinesparkles <3

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

The pair sit cross legged on the carpeted floor. Perched against a bookshelf, the two sit next to one another, close, knees touching, shoulders brushing.

It is blissful. Surrounded by the quietude of the library, they are entrapped in a world of their own. Everything appears encased in a blurry haze; others simply seize to exist, it is only them.

Leaning her head against Jason’s shoulder, she encircles her arm around his bicep, nuzzling into him.

He smiles. Peering down at her, he presses a kiss onto her head. Savouring the feeling of her against him, he cherishes the calm resting within him. His heart beats steady, unperturbed by the horrors that plague him.

Often lingering in his mind like shadowy crooks in alleyways, they are nowhere to be found.

In this moment, it is only them who matter. It is only them who persist.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Read to me?” she whispers back.

In a hushed voice, he does, reading the words to her. Periodically shifting his gaze from the page to her, just to see, just to remember, just to lock in the image and keep it engraved in his mind forever, as to him it is the most magnificent sight to have graced his world.

The sight of her serenity.

Like zephyr, she feels it. Revelling in the sounds he makes, she finds herself drowning in the pleasantness he evokes within her.

In their proximity, lies an unparalleled happiness. In this bubble of love, they prevail,

for in this world, it is only them who exist.

[ambiguousanalysts]

Sunset Kisses

a Jason Todd blurb.

(fem!S/O)

Summary: Jason and his partner watch the sunset together.

Warnings: none!

Note: this one’s for my love, R. @mysticalrambling hope you like it, lovely <3

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

From the windshield, the sun gleams within his irises. A mix of orange and yellow hues spiral inside the vehicle, dousing it in subtle illumination.

Lighting the sky pink in its liquidised state, it prepares to set with hushed goodbyes.

Car parked over a cliff, the pair overview the sight. She is held captive by it, seemingly. Eyes mesmerised, they do not stray from the image.

One look and Jason concludes it is simply not as gentle on the eyes as her.

Watching her, he is content. There is a certain sense of beauty to her that the celestial object simply cannot compare to.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers.

“You are,” Jason declares, staring at her with open admiration.

Turning towards him, she laughs lightly. Beaming up at him, there is a great flushness that engulfs her whole.

“You’re cheesy.”

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning towards her. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Gaze locked in on his movements, she holds her breath.

He has her attention.

Tracing the tip of his finger down her cheek to her chin, he grasps it between his index finger and thumb. Pulling her close, he kisses her.

Soft. Slow. Languid.

And just like that he finds himself lost within her, once more.

In front of the picturesque sunset, he could kiss her forever, he thinks.

[ambiguousanalysts]

Fellow Feeling

a Richard Grayson blurb.

(fem!S/O)

Summary: Richard has a rough night patrolling, his s/o comforts him.

Warnings: none!

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

He sits crouched over, head bowed, hands grasping the sheets. Firm with his grip, his knuckles whiten with the pressure.

There is a certain ease in the pain, a sense of relief igniting within him.

For a moment he is able to stop thinking.

Biting her lip in contemplation, she slowly crawls up behind him. Situating herself on her knees, she trails her hands up his back, to his shoulders. Encircling them around his neck, she hugs him.

Tensing for a brief moment, Dick relaxes into her embrace, smiling ever so slightly at the contact.

“Hi, baby,” Dick whispers, voice croaky and tired.

Pecking his neck, she nuzzles into him, “Hi, hon.”

“You doing okay?”

He sighs, “It was a bad night.”

She tightens her hold. He closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Rich,” she frowns. She feels melancholy douse her in its grief, his brokenness tearing at her insides, begging to be put together. Begging for the endless weight of responsibility to be lifted.

He huffs out a small laugh, “Nah, there’s nothing you could’ve done.”

Grabbing her hand, he presses a small kiss into it, “Just be here with me.”

Humming, she moves to rest her cheek against his own, she promises, “I know it’s gonna get better, I just know it. It won’t always be like this.”

Richard stays quiet and just lets her words sink in, lets her unparalleled belief take over. Leaning back into her, he savours the moment.

For it is in the midst of her engulfment, in the comfort of her embrace, where lies the security he has yearned for his entire existence, he finds.

It is a feeling he will long for in every lifetime.

It is her whom he will long for.

[ambiguousanalysts]

Hold my hand, for I fear I am falling

-a jason todd blurb

(GN!S/O)

Summary: you attempt to console Jason as he feels upset at the prospect of lost composure.

Warnings: Mention of break downs. Slight expression of self hate. Implications of unhappiness. Not proofread.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Perched on the gravely rooftop, the pair of you sit adjacent to one another. Sharp, grey stones dig into your skin through your clothes but you cannot find it within you to express care.

You stare at Jason as he stares ahead, eyes etched onto the night sky. The glimmer from silver stars reflect into his burdened blues and replace the spark he lost as only a small child.

They emphasis his sorrow and you feel your heart achingly bleed for him.

“It’s okay, Jason,” you whisper, tone soft, subtly trying to console him.

Shaking his head, he scoffs.

“It’s not,” baritone sharp, he seems ambivalent.

You can see the self detestation raging it’s distasteful wrath inside of him. Setting him ablaze, you see the fire hollow him out.

Once an image of juvenile innocence, now a mere reflection of unrelenting suffering.

“You broke down. It happens to people under pressure,” you state, reassured, aiming to convince him.

“Only if they’re weak,” he spits, words spewing with venom. Not at you, no, never at you. His anger only ever seemed to wave its gun at himself and Jason, he willingly stares down the barrel every time.

“You’re wrong.”

Commanding, assured, confident.

He does not respond.

“Life only tends to break down the strongest.”

Your words hang in the air, as parky as the wind. They float around him, salvaging him from the opaque trenches of his somber mind. Eyes glazed over, he finally permits his tears to fall, for he is tired and now, free to mourn the loss of himself.

You reach out and firmly grab his hand. Tight with your grip, you squeeze as if to say,

Life may tear you down towards the darkness but right there with you, I am standing and holding your hand, guiding you towards the sanity of the light.

>───⇌••⇋───<

A/N: this is purely self expression because your girl is stressed beyond belief. Anyways, two posts in a row because I might be taking a small break to figure myself out a little bit. I hope you like this and let me know what you think. Take care!! <3

[ambiguousanalysts]

The truth unveils itself

-a jason todd fic.

(GN!S/O)

Summary: you accidentally find out who Jason really is.

Warnings: Angst. Mention of blood. Mention of being severely injured. Mention of patching up wounds with needles. Reference to Jason's activities as RH. Mention of k*lling (bad people). Slight self detestation. Depiction of domestic abuse. Mention of death. Use of "god" and "Jesus" as expressions. Swearing.

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: Inspired by the following request made by a lovely anon: Hi lovie!! I'm truly in love with your writing. So I had an idea about a blurb for Jason Todd and I know you are going to be the best writer for it. So here it goes: The reader finds out about Jason for the first time and she doesn't know how to react to it. Maybe a little angst but then end it with a fluff. Just an idea babe. Feel free to write about this but no pressure, darling.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Jason stands trembling in his cold bathroom. Chest heaving with shallow pain ridden breaths, he stares at his reflection; broken and dejected, his pearl blue irises stare back at him. Crimson blood paints his bare front, intricate patterns trail down the ripples in his stomach. Agony prevails, persevering as an ache arising from the plethora of bruises now lining his pale skin.

Teeth clenched, he hisses as the cold, sharp needle penetrates through his open wound. Shakily, he pulls the stitch through and then repeats the process slowly, willing himself to remain calm throughout.

Scanning the scattered supplies on his countertop, he forces out a breathy sigh.

“Easy now,” he whispers quietly to himself. Commanding and reassuring.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

Twisting open the lock to Jason’s door and entering inside, you find yourself grinning in elation.

“Jay?” you call out him while putting the takeout bags onto his kitchen counter.

Bellybuster burger, his favourite.

“Jay, you home?” you frown at the lack of response.

Walking around the island, you wander towards his closed bedroom.

Eyebrows furrowed, you find yourself befuddled at the prospect of his absence wondering where else he could be at nine p.m on a regular Tuesday.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

Jason stands aloof, focussed on patching himself up to the best of his capability.

He does not register your joyous calls.

Tonight had been rough, he had been inobservant and absentminded, on the receiving end of brutality rather than in his designated position: the one inflicting it.

Now, he was left to deal with the remnants. Scoffing, he grips the counter tight, knuckles near replicating the shade of the marble being assaulted under the wrath of his calloused fingertips.

Breathing harshly through his nostrils, he forces himself to restrain the wild flame of his anger, one that flows rapidly at bewildering capacities.

He chastises himself. RedHood cannot afford to be distracted and yet, that is what he had been tonight. In a haste, he miscalculated hits, misjudged the opponent's moves and as a consequence, got himself splattered in harsh blotches of purples and blues.

He holds in the rampant urge to punch through the mirror, to open the pink, irritated skin of knuckles and drench it red in his blood.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He berates himself with the abusive mantra, because beneath the anger, lies shame aiming its gun at his incompetency.

Perhaps it is you, who is to blame. You had his mind held captive, tied still with unwavering thoughts of you.

You had planned this night, at his house, with an ardent sense of vigour. Still in the early stages of your beautifully blossoming relationship, you had been eager, practically bouncing in your seat, to spend time at his apartment. To get to further inspect and study the life of Jason Todd. And Jason, oh, poor, Jason, he knew he was a goner the minute you grinned that enchanting smile of yours.

How could he have possibly said no?

For that damned smile of yours is nothing but a temptress leading him astray.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

Walking into his bedroom, you are met with the sight of an untidy bed and books scattered around haphazardly around the small space.

You fail to suppress the slight giggle eliciting from the boyish charm the room omits. It is utterly endearing, really.

Seeing the light on in the bathroom, you tiptoe towards the ajar door. Hand to your mouth, you skip with silence hoping to slightly spook the six foot giant.

Holding onto the doorknob, you push the door open, cringing at the creeks of the rusty hinges.

“Boo!,” you rejoice only for your voice to flatten at the last phoneme at the menacing sight before you.

You gasp, eyes wide and hand still tightly gripping your mouth.

Fear trickles up your body at a rebarbative pace, holding your shoulders in its cold grasp, pulling you backwards, away from Jason.

Jason holds out his hands in defence, quickly spinning around to pull on a hoodie to hide his tarnished body from your astonished gaze.

“Baby,” he begins.

At his voice, you stumble further backwards. Mouth falling agape, it opens and closes repeatedly with merely breathes of air escaping. Words seem to forsake you as you cautiously drink in the image presented in front of you. It leaves a bitter aftertaste.

“I’ll explain everything but let’s sit down first, yeah?” he reaches out to hold your hand and you flinch. The movement imitates a jab, taunting and agonisingly fast with its strike.

In the span of a moment, a welcomed touch now mirrored the ache of a swift cut.

And at the realisation, Jason can feel his heart break.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

Sitting on his bed, there is significant space between you two. Unable to look at you just yet, Jason glares at the unwelcome gap, it had never been there before. It feels foreign and he can just sense its mockery,

look at where your lies have thrown you.

Staring off into nothing, you seem distant, disassociated from him. Eyes glazed over and blurry, you keep quiet, collecting your thoughts.

“Doll…,” he speaks up, attempting to begin the unwanted dialogue.

“Who are you?” you inquire, voice encased in a raspy whisper. Mouth dry, you feel perplexed.

The question comes across as an unexpected hit; brief but effective in its assault. Perhaps it is in its validity that lies the hurt,

you can no longer trust him.

“I’m still me, this, it, doesn’t change anything,” Jason attempts to plead his case, desperation clinging onto every last syllable.

“I don’t. I, I’ve never seen you hurt...not like this at least. Has this happened before? How did, how did this even happen? What do you do? Who did this to you?” you stutter, words trembling out as incoherent, clustered thoughts one after the other. Your hands shake as the panic sets in, you feel caged in. No escape, you are unable to breathe.

“God, who are you?” you ask once more, pained and completely, puzzled.

Hastily moving to kneel in front of you, Jason grabs a hold of your hands. The softness eliciting from his rough skin makes you wish, pray that the feeling, as you know it, never vanishes.

Tugging on them, he urges you look at him, “hey, hey, look at me, baby, look at me. I’ll explain everything but I need you to be calm, okay? Can you do that for me, stay calm?”

Lightly squeezing his hand, you nod, hesitant.

Taking a deep breath in, he exhales. “I’m RedHood,” out with it, he comes. Seeing no point in prolonged hiding, he lays himself bare.

Finally, you look at him. Eyes once confused, now inundated with a river of emotions.

“You’re RedHood?”

“Yes,” he sighs, resigned.

"You kill people," you whisper, mortified at the realisation of what his confession truly means.

"I do whatever is necessary," he states, expression suddenly hardened.

Hands quivering once more, you push him away. Standing up and backing away, you shake your head, "No, no, you kill them, that doesn't seem necessary. You can't just do that."

Hyperventilating, you feel it all collapse. Everything you knew now diminished into rubble.

"I do what I have to. You think I fucking enjoy it?" spitting venom, he feels enraged at your accusation heavy tone.

Silence and then,

"Does Bruce know?"

"Yes," he confirms, holding onto the familial secret for the unforeseen future.

"And your brothers?"

Wordlessly, he hums.

He can see the wheels turning, the hesitation, the fear brewing and engulfing you whole. He can see the walls building high, shielding you from him.

He cannot bear the weight of it.

"Jason-"

Grabbing onto your forearms, he forces you towards him, "No, listen to me. I can see the judgment, I can see what you're thinking but I'm not some fucking sicko who gets off on watching people get hurt. I do this because there is no other way." Presenting his case, he stands firm in his beliefs,

this is the way.

"But there is Jason. There is a system in place for this exact reason, you can't just go around playing judge, jury and executioner," you rebuttal.

He scoffs, laughing mirthlessly, he pulls away from you. Walking to his bedside table, he pulls out his cigarette pack. Lighting a stick, he takes a long drag. Eyes closed, he releases the smoke.

You watch him with a careful gaze, following his every move. Your heart bleeds, afraid of him, afraid for him.

"You and I both know that the system is bullshit. It's just there to make sure people keep their mouth shut."

Moving to sit on the windowsill, he cracks it open allowing the harsh wind to baptise the small room. Flicking the ash outside, he looks towards you and continues, "Apartment 3B, there was a woman living up there, Maria. Always scared, wouldn't ever speak to me. Thought nothing off it till I saw the bruises. Father was a drunk, fucker beat her black and blue every night."

"Jesus, jay," you go to sit on the edge of the bed. Hands clutching tightly at the mattress, you bow your head as you feel the cold gaze of sorrow burn you down.

"She got tired off it, one night, she called the cops. Bastard got out in three months. Got back and made sure she didn't see the light of day."

Sighing, he shakes his head, "That's it, that's what the system is. A bunch of false reassurances. I couldn't save Maria but I sure as hell am gonna try my hardest to save others like her."

Looking down at the vacant streets of Gotham, he drops the defence, "I'm sorry you can't see that."

And at his words, you feel your tears start to fall.

"I do, jay, I get it but you can't just take this all on by yourself. Look at what you're doing to yourself," in the glass, he sees your reflection gesturing towards him, "you're not invincible, Jason, you're a human being."

"I've made my decision."

Affirmed, assured, set in stone.

And now, you have made yours.

Getting up with a push of your hands, you roughly wipe away your tears. He sees you move aware of what is coming. Clutching his eyes shut, he feels his chest tighten in pain. He feels grief tear at his insides, begging him to make you stay. Alas, he cannot.

Clearing his throat, he whispers, "Are you gonna leave?"

Innocence lingers amidst his words, so lost, so afraid. It only makes it harder.

Coming to stand behind him, you rest a tentative hand on his shoulder, "I can't watch you do this to yourself, Jason,"

With a small peck to his warm cheek, you make a move to leave, "I'm sorry."

He turns to watch your retreating figure, closing the door and leaving his life forever.

He catches sight of the bags sitting on the kitchen counter, now cold and miserable.

Bellybuster burger, his favourite.

He feels his heart break all over,

look at where your lies have thrown you.

>───⇌••⇋───<

A/N: Alright, nonnie, there you have it. I decided not to end it in fluff and it definitely is not a blurb (I got carried away) but I hope it did right by you either way. I like this however, at the same time it feels a bit rushed but you all let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy it!!<3

[ambiguousanalysts]

Hey darling❤️ I love your work so much!! Can you please do a prompt 16 for Harry Styles? Thank you!!

Before the Show (H.S)

A/N: Thank you for the request darling. This is an ask from the prompt list that I have uploaded on my account and I hope you all enjoy it. My requests are currently open for this list and I would love to write about them. They can be about Harry Styles, Chris Evans and Tom Holland. Love you guys!!

Prompt 16: “Did I make you…blush?”

Prompt List

My Main Masterlist is here.

Harry Styles Masterlist is here.

Summary: You surprise Harry before his show and just spend sometime with him. You just love making him blush and get all shy for you.

Warnings: fluff

._._._._.

You hadn’t seen your husband all day and you were bored out of your mind. This was his first show back and you knew that he was giving his heart and soul into rehearsals. But you missed your husband and you were just going to be with him for this week because you had to go back to your job in LA.

Getting up from the hotel bed, you changed into some sweats and one of Harry’s Love on Tour hoodie. The hotel was not faraway from the stadium so you just decided to enjoy the pleasant weather outside. Even though Harry’s show was not for another five hours, there was still a long line in front of the stadium. Your husband was truly lucky to have such devoted fans and he truly tried to not disappoint them.

Jeff was already near the side entrance so he just took you inside without any security checks. “Thank you, Jeffery.”

“Ugh (Y/N)! Stop calling me with my full name, please.”

“Can’t stop. Won’t stop.” Giving him a cheeky smile, you walked a little faster when Harry’s dressing room came into view. You just couldn’t wait to see his pretty face.

“Gonna complain to Harry about you.”

“He won’t say anythin’ to me.”

Sighing, he spoke, “You’re right. That boy is whipped.”

“Damn right he is. See y’later, Jeffery.” The manager just grunted in response but hugged you back nonetheless. After all, you were like a sister to him and he always said that you came before Harry in his list of priorities. You were truly grateful to have him in your life.

You were met with your husband’s distinct apple cider cologne as soon as you entered the well spaced room. It was filled with makeup accessories, clothes and many other things. There was a mini bar on the side, for gods sake. In the centre, Harry was getting ready for the show as people worked all around him. He was still in his TPWK white shirt and jeans because he would likely change half an hour before the show. No one wants to mess up thousand dollar worth of clothes.

His nails were freshly painted to your favorite color; black and he was scrolling through twitter. Coming up behind him, the stylist gave you a smile and backed down a little so you could surprise him. Before he could turn around to see why everyone had stopped, you wrapped your arms around him from the behind. He tensed for a second but his body immediately recognised you and he let out a contented sigh.

“Hey darlin’. What y’doing here?” He softly pressed a kiss to your hand and you stood up straighter.

“Just wanted to surprise yeh.”

“Why, thank you love. Y’re my lucky charm.”

“Love you.” Running a hand through his hair, you realised that he hadn’t put on any hair spray yet. “Don’t apply products to y’hair, H. They’ll get damaged and I love the natural curls.”

“Whatever y’say darling.”

Other people had already left the room to give you both more privacy and you were glad because you really haven’t had any alone time with Harry for quite sometime. He stood up from his vanity chair and just hugged you. Basking in his warmth, you placed a kiss on his collarbone and snuggled more into his warmth. You always said that he was your own personal heater.

“Gonna stay for t’show, lovie?” The hopeful tone in his voice led you to whisper out a yes. You didn’t mind seeing him on stage in all his glory anyways. “Let me get dressed then.”

The moment you saw what he was wearing, you immediately knew you wanted to pair up with him. Harry had gifted you a lilac off-shoulder Gucci dress on your third anniversary and that was currently one of your favorite piece of clothing. Luckily, there was a rack of clothes in Harry’s dressing room dedicated to you so you didn’t have to go back to the hotel. Most of your clothes were in there and this dress was definitely one of them. His lilac suit fit him quite nicely and you just couldn’t control your hands.

“Did y- you just slap m’arse?”

“Damn right I did. Perfect li’l arse and it’s all mine.”

The one thing that your husband can not take are compliments. He gets all shy about them and doesn’t know how to respond. These are one of the things that you love about him. He is really confident in his own body and is open towards new things but a simple compliment can turn him into a mushy puddle.

“Did I make you... blush?”

“Oh, shut up.” The redness in his cheeks only grew at being caught and he slightly hid his face in his shirt. Only you got him hot and bothered like this. “’m getting late for m’show.”

“Don’t try to divert the conversation. Look so pretty when you get all shy on me.”

Listening to you praise him like this made him fall in love with you more. You loved him despite his little quirks and he was so glad that he met you that day in the park. Best day of his life. “Thank y’, love.”

“Come here, H.” Hugging him tightly, you whispered the next words in his ear rather affectionately, “Love the fact that I have this effect on yeh.”

“Only you.” The sweet moment was interrupted by a knock and you separated from each other.

“It’s time, Harry.” Jeff slightly poked his head inside the door and informed your husband about the timings.

“Always the wrong time, Jeffery.”

“I hate you, (Y/N).” You laughed it off because he truly didn’t mean it and you all knew.

“I love you too.”

Interrupting your banter, Harry placed a kiss on your cheek and softly said, “See y’after the show, love.”

“I’ll be out in sometime. Just have to change.”

“‘kay. Jeff’ll meet you backstage. If y’need something, just ask him, alright?”

“Done babe.” Kissing him good luck, he went his way and you quickly started getting ready so you wouldn’t miss one moment from the show. After all, his songs were about you.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

._._._._.

Like, comment and reblog.

[ambiguousanalysts]

Hello☺️ can you write something with prompt 17 25 and 27 please? With Tom Holland

Not Alone (T.H)

A/N: Thank you for the request darling. I incorporated two of the prompts in this blurb but sadly, I couldn't add the third one. This is an ask from the prompt list that I have uploaded on my account and I hope you all enjoy it. My requests are currently open for this list and I would love to write about them. They can be about Harry Styles, Chris Evans and Tom Holland. Love you guys!!

Prompt 17: “You’re hurt. Let me take care of you.”

Prompt 27: “Stop cryin’, baby, it’ll be alright.”

Prompt List

My Main Masterlist is here.

Tom Holland Masterlist is here.

Summary: You try to take care of the twins alone as Tom is busy with his movie. However, you get hurt by accident and your husband is there to take care of you.

Warnings: a little bit of angst as well as fluff.

._._._._.

Running after two hyper active three year olds is no fun and is definitely very tiring. Tom has been busy with his work for a couple of days now because of his upcoming movie. He tried to help out as much as he could but you knew that he was exhausted from the day so you didn’t bother him much. Aiden and Ethan were your two little munchkins but they were too damn energetic.

Your husband had come home at eight after doing multiple interviews and immediately tried to help you with dinner. However, you didn’t let him anywhere near the kitchen and told him to get some sleep. More like threatened him, ‘If y’don’t get your arse out of here, you’re gonna sleep on the couch.’ Both the kids were taking a nap because they were knackered out from their day out in the park. You wanted to make something that wasn’t too much of a hassle so you decided on spaghetti and was done with in the hour.

“Mummy!” Just as you were about to sit down on the couch, a little squeak made your head turn towards the staircase. There stood Aiden with his ruffled brunette hair and puffy eyes still filled with sleep. He was clutching onto his unicorn stuffie that Paddy had gifted him on his third birthday. Aiden was your little boy who loved you more than anything and was very possessive of you. Tom couldn’t even kiss you when he was nearby. He was just the sweetest little thing.

“Hey bubba. Slept well?” You spoke in a low tone because your kids were always a little sensitive to noises when they woke up.

“No!”

“Aw, why?”

He slowly prodded towards you and gestured for you to pick him up. “Ethan kicked me off the bed, mummy.”

“You hurt, bubba?” Carefully checking him for any injuries, you were relieved to find none.

“No. Cuddles, mummy.”

“Of course.” You quietly put on some random Disney movie and laid down with your little boy snuggled up right into you. Time passed by just like that and before you knew it, your other monster was also awake. You had decided that you would feed the boys first and then have a peaceful dinner with your husband. You deserved some alone time with your husband as well. This night was going to be amazing, you just knew it.

Turning the stove on, you placed the marinara sauce up there and tried to place the boys in their respective high chairs. But they just gave each other a mischievous look and ran in opposite directions. You knew they just wanted to play so you tried to entertain them even though you were really not in the mood. As you were chasing them, you realised that Ethan was going towards the kitchen.

“Ethan, stop!”

“Catch me, mummy!”

Ethan just squealed and ran even faster. The boy thought you were just playfully yelling but he didn’t know that you were actually worried. The sauce was boiling hot and it was overflowing a bit. Ethan was about to collide in the stove but before you could reach it, you pushed the hot pan towards the wall.

Screaming, you clutched your throbbing hand and slid down on the wall. Both the boys got really scared and started crying but you were in too much pain to look after them. A disheveled Tom appeared on the doorway and when he saw what was going on, he reacted instantly.

“Take the boys to the lounge first.”

“But (Y/N)-”

“Tommy, please.”

“Okay but let’s get y’up first.” He settled you on the bar stool and then took both the kids to the couch. You could hear him as he calmed down both the kids and then turned up the volume for the tv so they couldn’t hear the both of you.

He made his way back towards the kitchen and carefully took your injured hand. There were red hot marks forming on your hand while the skin was becoming somewhat irritated. “You’re hurt, darling. Let me take care of you.”

“Thank you.”

“N’need to thank me, love.” He got the first aid kit out from under the sink and started to look for the ointment. Meanwhile, you told him what happened with little hiccups interrupting your short monologue. “Could’ve just woken m’up. They’re m’responsibilities as well, darlin’.”

Even though he was softly blowing on the wound, it still hurt like hell. You didn’t realise there were a few tears escaping your eyes until Tom gently wiped them away. Your automatic response was a quick ‘sorry’ and you didn’t even know why. Maybe it was because you knew it really pained him to see cry. He cried straight for two hours when you were in labour and only stopped when you threatened to throw him out of the delivery room.

“Stop cryin’ baby.” Tom’s voice cracked a little in the end but he continued, “It’s going t’be alright.”

When your hand was all bandaged up, he lightly kissed your hand and told you to stay put. The rest of the night was spent with Tom taking care of you and your babies. He didn’t complain one time, even when Aiden rubbed his messy hands on the counter and he had to clean it up or when Ethan refused to wear his pjs. When you finally laid down with him in your bed, you realised that you were lucky to have him and you wouldn’t let go of him, ever.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

._._._._.

Like, comment and reblog.

[ambiguousanalysts]

Stargazing

-a Jason Todd blurb

(female!S/O)

Summary: A depiction of Jason's thoughts and feelings as he's stargazing with a friend he is completely enamoured with.

Warnings: None!

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Curious fingers inch towards one another, hesitant yet determined. They lay adjacent on the dewy grass, her eyes perched on the night sky; the dark blue of the evening reflects hazily against her irises. Mesmerised by the sight, she is forced still.

But Jason's gaze remains etched on her, held captive by her beauty.

She is truly a sight to behold, he thinks.

The soft white hues omitting from the moon encircle her, like a devotee worshipping its goddess and likewise, the stars obediently dance before her. Her hair is spread out on the grass, the darkness of it a stark contrast against the light green of the trimmed blades. The image views like a painting and if Jason could, he'd allow himself to drown in it.

He cannot look away.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she whispers, afraid a volume any louder would wreck the peace surrounding the two, somehow forcing the stars to disperse and hide.

He hums in acknowledgment, she is beautiful and the celestial objects simply cannot compare.

"You're not even looking, silly" she giggles and his heart is rendered erratic at the sound. A melody so sweet, he wants to lose himself to it amidst the harmonies, for Jason is in love and the moon above resides witness to it.

Jason is in love, with her.

>───⇌••⇋───<

100 Followers Celebration

A/N: This is more description heavy but I hope you guys enjoy it just the same!! <3

[ambiguousanalysts]

Italy to take away the pain

-a jason todd blurb.

(GN!S/O)

A/N: This blurb is based on the prompt: “let’s go to Italy. Now? It’s the middle of the night” from the lovely @mysticalrambling ‘s prompt list. Check out her brilliant blog where she writes the most beautiful stories and maybe even send in a request if you’re a fan of the people she writes for. R, thank you for creating this wonderful list and I hope you enjoy my interpretation of your dialogue🧡

Summary: Jason is upset after a fight with Bruce and offers a spontaneous solution to lift up his mood.

Warnings: Mention of fighting with a parental figure. Mention of feeling regret and sadness.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Head hung low, Jason sits on the edge of the bed staring out the window distantly at the rain drenched city.

Expression crestfallen, his mind is elsewhere. Drying tears remnant of the fight earlier with Bruce. Hurtful words were exchanged, pettiness engulfed the two whole and left behind a trail of painful regret.

Jason feels it, a nagging sensation lingering in his stomach, tearing at his insides. Nauseated, he vows the feeling to go away but alas, it does not erase as easily as he hopes.

Cautiously, you crawl up behind him. Your heart aches for him, wishing, hoping to take away his pain, to feel that hurt for him.

Trailing your hand up his bare back, he exhales a deep sigh at your warm touch. It is familiar, incredibly inviting and he finds himself unconsciously leaning into it. You hug him, arm around his chest, you pull him into you, littering his flushed neck with rough, passionate kisses.

Each kiss conveying a message:

I’m forever with you.

“You okay?” you ask, voice bordering on quietude.

He does not answer, he pushes into you harsher, wanting, yearning to be closer.

Only you can take the pain away. Only you can make it better.

A moment passes, he thinks and thinks before garnering courage. Quietly, he pipes up, “Let’s go to Italy.”

You smile. A joke, he is feeling better, a semblance of his jovial self.

A beat passes and then another. He does not speak, he awaits a response. Then it dawns on you, he is serious.

“Now? It’s the middle of the night.” You express, stunned.

Jason does not understand the outcry, for it is a plausible request. He grabs onto your hand, bringing it up to his lips, he presses a small, delicate kiss to it. Turning around slightly to look into your eyes, he whispers, “Please?”

The tone, it tugs at your heart strings. The innocence lingering amidst the broken look, it claws at you, begging for relief.

You cannot help but comply, “Ok.”

“Ok?”

You let out a smile at the hopefulness creeping into his stormy blues, “Yeah, let’s go spend some of Bruce’s money.”

And at that, he lets out that melodious laugh of his and you find yourself praying that this moment lasts forever, that Jason stays happy forever.

>───⇌••⇋───<

A/N: I wrote this in a little bit of a rush because I’ve been experiencing writers block and did not want the idea to escape me. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this and let me know what you think!!<3

[ambiguousanalysts]

What it is, to build a home

-a jason todd blurb.

(GN!S/O)

A/N: I couldn’t help myself and just had to write another piece from @mysticalrambling ‘s prompt list. This is based on the dialogue “did you just roll your eyes at me?”. Hope I did it justice. Anyways, go check out my lovely friend’s blog, promise you won’t regret it. P.s. she’s taking requests👀

Summary: Jason comes home after a long while away.

Warnings: none!

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Entering through the door, Jason feels the warm smell of home engulf him. The tension escapes him and replacing it, is a delicate sense of peace.

He cannot help but smile. Before you, this was merely a house, nothing except for a place dictating a mundanely sporadic routine. With you, it became a home, forever finding a place for love amidst its hallows.

Then he hears it, the symphonic sounds echoing from the radio. Dropping his duffel bag by the door, he follows it in a drunken daze, allowing the music to move his feet for him. He finds you in the kitchen, swaying softly to the tunes while baking ever so pleasantly.

He stands in the doorway and just silently observes. He could watch you forever.

Your grace will forever hold him captive. Knife at this throat, by your hands he would willingly go.

Slowly, he creeps up behind you. Footsteps like those of a soldier, tainted with quietude and stealth. He reaches and sets his hands on your shoulders, startling you. You turn around, spatula raised like a sword and he lets out an amused snort at the sight.

“You scared me, Jason!” you exclaim, slapping against his chest lightly.

“And had i been a burglar, your plan was to impale me with your wooden spoon?”

“It could do some serious damage, if used correctly,” you propose.

He rolls his eyes, a playful smile creeping up his lips.

You gasp.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

He repeats the action and you narrow yours in mock offence.

Pulling you into him, he plants a chaste kiss onto your forehead. The action never fails to leave a giddy fluttering in your chest, heartbeat eternally racing under the soft touch of his calloused hands.

“I missed you,” he declares, voice filled with emotion. Three words saying more than a million ever could.

“I missed you so, so much,” you admit, “You’re not allowed to leave me for that long ever again.”

“Not really up to me, doll,” he confesses with pursed lips.

“I’ll fight Roy,” with sneaky eyes you look up at him, a cheeky grin threatening to break out onto your face.

“With your wooden spoon?”

“With my wooden spoon,” you nod.

Hugging you tighter, he lets out a hearty laugh.

Oh, how good it feels to be home, home with you.

>───⇌••⇋───<

100 Followers Celebration

A/N: this marks the end of the celebration blurbs!! I was hoping to write more for it but I simply do not have the time right now so I’m capping it at five. I hope you all enjoyed them and once again, thank you so much for showing me such unwavering support. I am forever grateful. Much love <3