firm grip

The Modern Goddess

Aphrodite walks down the street, an unassuming young woman. She watches the men who follow women around, clawing at their hair, their clothes. She curses them on a watery tongue. They will drown on their own words tonight. 

Athena is at war in the senate seat, the streets, in her own head. She’s a strategist, a wise, nasty woman. She stands for the people who are thrown to the wolves, and gives them a sword so they can be the heroes she knows them to be. 

Artemis hunts down the abusers, the takers, the grim reapers. She shoots arrows of truth and revolution into the hearts of survivors. She is always just ahead in the tree line, crying for you to be free. 

Hera is the school teacher, the grandmother, a victim who notices your wounds and stays with you. She is a mother, firm grip on your shoulder as you stand up against violence, against anything bad for you. You will win today, you have no other choice. She looks at you and survival is etched in her face. 

Hecate is the friend that tells you to leave the asshole, who is a bodyguard, who threatens their tongues with their wrath. She cannot be moved, grounded in the earth. 

Hestia is a social worker who takes in runaways. She holds picket signs and feeds those who would not be fed. Who makes homes for the lost, the aged, the sick. She sees their strength and their trial by fire. She rewards them for their triumph up to this point.

Persephone knows how to fight for her love, how to break your mother’s heart for knowing who you are and what you want, realizing that was not what your family wanted. She waves pride flags, she sips wine at gay bars. 

Big Brother Knows Best

Winchester x Sister!Reader // Demon!Dean

A/n: I’ve been watching old episodes and getting fic ideas so bare with me and my little shit fics. I really almost didn’t post this one.

Warnings: Blood, Dean is a demon, Angst, mentions of death, violence?

Forever tag list: @Freaksforthewin , @thewinhunter, @cambriacaneatnoodles, @brokennoone , @youtubehelpsmesurvive , @chrisevansthedoritobastard , @winchesters-favorite-girl , @we-know-a-little-about-a-lot @godh8salyssa   @dean-baby-Winchester  @straightasdeanwinchester@animexchocolate@fabulouslycassie@lizbeth-loves-bobear @nicolesyneah25

Edit is mine

A firm hand gripped your own sweating one. Pulling you around the corner away from the taunting calls behind you.

“Can’t run from me forever, Sammy.” The voice speaking wasn’t that of your brothers, rather something entirely opposite. “And pulling our little sister into this wild goose chase? Not hardly fair at all.”

Words couldn’t express how badly you wanted to rush into your oldest brothers arms. Beg him to come back to you and be the man you knew he was. Every part of you knew Sam would keep you as far away from him as he could. He’d throw himself in between the two of you if it came down to it. No questions asked.

Your mind was snapped back into the current events when Sam grabbed hold of your shoulders and shook you.

“Hey, don’t zone out. Not now.” Taking a giant gulp of fear you nodded shakily. “Go.” His head nudged in the direction of a closed door.

“What? Are you out of your damn mind? I’m not leaving you here to get your head whacked off by our demonic brother.” With your right hand you held on tightly to his left arm. Just above his wrist.

“I’m right behind you, Y/n.” There was no use arguing with him. He wasn’t going to allow you to stand there next to him.

A bad feeling rested in the pit of your stomach. In every horror movie you watched when somebody said they’d be right behind someone, they were always lying. And they usually always ended up dead.

Bright red flashing lights beamed from unknown areas of the bunker, startling you. Just as your hand reached out to open the door it was swung open. Sam was breathing heavily and pushing you onward to continue running.

Dean was always the brother you thought to go to first when something is wrong. It was a natural feeling of pure protection when you were around him. Now he was hunting you down in your own home.

“Come on guys! Lets have a nice long chat. Crack a beer…go over things.” Hearing how carefree and reckless Dean was just in his voice shattered you.

The hallways seemed to be long and endless. Like a a giant maze. You had no idea which turn would lead to where, but you followed on the direct path Sam pushed you on. After all, big brother knows best. Your small scared body was shoved into a door which was locked after your entry.

Sam? Sam, open the damn door!” This particular door was the only one hidden in the bunker. It was a secret escape route Cas and Sam discovered after Dean had bailed off with his new demon buddy, Crowley. The one way he had no knowledge of.

Heavy but slightly silenced breathing came from the other side of the metal sliding door. “You need to get out of here, Y/n. I won’t let him hurt you.” Their was a hint of fear mixed with strength in Sam’s voice. You knew what he was planning, yet hoping he wouldn’t have to do.

“I won’t let him hurt you either! You can’t lock me up and fight for us both, Sam! He’ll kill you. He’ll take his time and enjoy it.” Every word that poured from your mouth was at a whisper. Trying to prevent Dean from catching wind of the conversation.

“That’ll leave enough time for you to bail.” Sam had no intention of leaving Dean. He never did. But you didn’t plan on leaving either of them.

“Wonder what’s behind door number three?” A booming voice roared.

The sound of an axe hitting against the once perfect door protecting Sam was being hacked apart.

“Don’t come through that door Dean! You won’t leave me any choice.” You heard something coming from Sam. Something you hadn’t heard in awhile. Defeat.

Dean merely laughed and kept hitting away. “Or what? We both know what choice you’ll have to make. And we both know what that choice will be, Sammy.” The smile on Dean’s lips could practically be heard it was so loud.

“Dean! Please stop this!” Both of your fists began beating on the door as your voice yelled as loudly as it possibly could. “Fight this sickness inside of you. I know you can.”

“Personally, Y/n. I like the disease!” Another swing of the axe. The door was practically able to be entered through.

Footsteps ran away from the door. Sam was bailing, knowing Dean would follow for the thrill of the chase.

“No! Dammit stop it!” The edges around your balled up fists began to bleed from beating on the door so violently.

Another set of footsteps trailed off in the same direction. And the chase began. You could stand by and do nothing. Demon or not, it was your brother.

Quickly you scanned the room for a way to open the door, until a bright red switch revealed itself. Instantly you flipped it and the door slid open. The moment you turned to the left to run after them both, a strong set of arms grabbed to your chest from behind while the other snaked around your lips to prevent noise from coming out. Dean. .

Fear took over your body completely. “Sh sh sh.” His words silenced the tears and the small muffled noises coming from your closed mouth. “Walk.” A sharp object was poked lightly into the center of your back, forcing you to walk.

“Call to him.” He was going to use you to draw Sam out of hiding.

“It’s a trap don’t come out-!” His firm hand regained position on your lips, forcing you to stop speaking.

Hopefully- hopefully, Sam would listen to you for once and run as far and fast as he could in the other direction from your crazed brother. Of course this wasn’t the case. Instead his figure slowly crept out from behind a corner. His eyes widened as he saw a blade being pressed hard enough to draw blood against the skin underneath your chin.

“Let her go, Dean. It’s me you want dead. Not her.” Sam did his best to try and talk Dean out of his dead set plan. Hands being held up as a sign of surrender.

“Are you kidding?” The voice behind you laughed. “Why deal with one when I can deal with both?” As his lips spread into a smile, you couldn’t see it, but you knew it was there.

“Do it.” You finally found the courage to speak.

Sam scoffed. “Y/n, shut up.”

“Do it, Dean.” You pressed against the blade willingly, drawing even more blood.

“Shut. Up.” Sam protested. Trying to get you to stop encouraging it.

“You’re not the bad guy, big brother. You’ll always be my hero. I’ll always see you as my Batman and nothing can change that.” Slowly you closed your eyes, preparing yourself to feel the skin slice open even more on your neck.

A little movement happened behind you. By some miracle Dean’s grip on you was now gone. Instead Castiel held him from behind. Eyes shinning bright as he held your furious brother.

“It’s over, Dean.”

Opposites Attract (Youngjae x Reader)

Originally posted by stormyseokjin

Genre: Fluff

Length: 824 words

“Careful, careful watch your step,” your arm was swung around his neck while the other blindly reached for the light switch. The two of you kept giggling and laughing, shushing each other so you wouldn’t wake the neighbors.

“Yah, Y/N, be careful! You’re going to fall!” Youngjae kept a firm grip on your waist, keeping as steady as he could so you wouldn’t get hurt. The two of you were still giggling like little kids, the alcohol from earlier in your systems.

“Shhhhhhh, I’m totally fiiine. I just uh.. Light. I need ligh- wHAT ARE YOU” Suddenly you were being carried bridal-style into the dark apartment.

“I’ll get the lights don’t worry!” He placed you onto the couch and ran towards the light switch, tripping a little bit as he did so. You listened to how his foot slid and squeaked on the hardwood floor and burst into laughter.

“A-Are you okay?” You asked through laughs.

“Oh yeah definitely! I just uh, I uh…slipped, haha.” A hint of embarrassment hid in his tone and you got up to make sure he was okay.

“No no it’s okay! Sit down I’m gonna sit anyway!” He sat on the floor in front of the couch, dropping his head back to see you. “What if we lived upside down?”

“What are you talking about Choi Youngjae?”

“No like what if we lived in a world where everything was upside down?” He picked his head back up and turned towards you lying on the couch.

“Like, opposites?” Your arm was swung over your eyes.

“Yes and no.” He laughed and inhaled sharply before continuing. “We could talk about that too though, what if the world was opposite?”

A giggle escaped your lips when you thought of an answer, “Jackson would be a mute.”

For about an hour, the two of you interrogated each other with “what if” questions, laughing and imagining different kinds of scenarios.

“What if I were opposite?” He asked.

“Hm.” It took you a minute to come up with an answer. “Ah, you and Jaebum would probably switch personalities.“

“But we’re practically the same person what do you mean?” Youngjae was now fully turned toward you and you sat up on the couch legs crisscrossed.

“You guys are nothing alike! You’re…sweet. Too sweet. And sunshine and funny and uh, yeah that stuff.” Inside you were hoping he wasn’t taking notice of the tiny blush in your cheeks. For a while you’ve been planning to confess to Youngjae about your growing feelings, but you felt stuck in the ‘best friend’ zone. “And Jaebum is, he’s more of the type that a lot of girls fall for- no that’s not what I meant I uh, girls fall for you too! I just mean that he’s more of the type that’s not as sweet. I-I don’t know how to explain.”

Youngjae nodded, taking in the information.

“I mean, I like that you’re sweet and you always make me laugh! And-”

Two seconds.

In two seconds, Youngjae had you cornered on the couch, his arms at either side of your body. It felt a little awkward. He looked stiff and laughed a bit when he saw how surprised you were.

“I have another side you know, I’m also a man!”

“Yeah, alright playboy you TOTALLY are.”

“YEAH bayybee I am!!”

You couldn’t keep a straight face. Hearing him say “baby” that way was the most awkwardly funny thing and you buried your face in your hands, unable to hold in your laugh.

“Youngjae, p l e a se don’t oh my god.”

“Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”

Three seconds.

After three seconds, he got closer to your face, so close that you could feel his breath softly hitting your lips. You didn’t notice at first, but you were slowly leaning back to keep the distance.

“What are- what are you doing?”

Next thing you knew he was hovering over you, eyes staring into you with a strong, foreign intensity.

“There are two sides to every person, Y/N.”

The only thing that could be heard was the beating of your heart, it was as if it were going to explode.

Your wrists were caught in his grip and he inched a little closer, his voice a little lower.

“And babygirl I’ve been waiting for the right time to show you.”

His lips, soft and sweeter than you imagined, matched perfectly with yours. His hands wandered into your hair, around your waist and down to your thigh. Whether it was the alcohol or the weakness you finally giving in to, nothing else around you mattered. Your only focus was the movement of his body against yours.

He gradually pulled away, studying your reaction and revealing that beautiful dorky smile.

For a minute he just looked at you, brushing his hand against your cheek.

“I really like you, Y/N. I didn’t know how else to-”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

Split Lip Pt. 2

Originally posted by buffysvmmers

A/N: Ok this ended up being significantly longer than part 1 but I guess thats the way the cookie crumbles.

Part 1

A week and a half later, you’re meandering home from an evening out with a visiting friend. You stumble down the deserted streets towards your flat and as you draw closer to your building, you notice a figure peel away from the wall by your door and walk purposely towards you.

“Y/N, where have you been?” You recognise Isaiah’s voice before the light reaches his face. You grin as he approaches.
“Isaiah! I thought you were all in London-” He stops in front of you and grabs you by the upper arm, cutting off your words and your loose smile. His firm, almost painful grip sobers you a little and it’s then that you notice the odd combination of concern and fury in his face.

“We got back a few hours ago,” he snaps impatiently. “Where the fuck have you been, Y/N? Jesus, we thought…” he trails off and his glare softens slightly, though his grip on your arm doesn’t loosen.

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marriedwithjo  asked:

You know what? I have this headcanon that Prince loves the newest Ed Sheeran's album, "Divide", and that one day, excited by it, he drags Anxiety to slow dance "Perfect" with him. ((Just imagine Logic and Morality shipping them hard, so cute))

**Here’s the song for those who want to listen while reading, also I’m now in love with this album thanks**

Anxiety’s steps were slow, his head was low, and his hood was pulled low over his face to hide his expression.

Prince looked up as the darker boy entered the room, and a sad smile crossed his face. He skipped a few songs on his mp3, and when the right song came on he dimmed the lights, turned up the volume and walked over to take Anxiety’s hand.

Anxiety tried pulling away, but Prince kept a gentle but firm grip and pulled him to the center of their shared room.

“Dance with me,” Prince whispered.

Anxiety made a point of pointing his head in the other direction to avoid the other, but prince lifted his spare hand and slowly slid his hood back, and placed a finger under his chin. He slowly drew the others gaze to his, and avoided flinching at the sorrow in his Beloved’s eyes.

Anxiety didn’t look away though, and Prince knew that was a good sign. He smiled softly.

“Dance with me,” He whispered again.

Anxiety didn’t make a sign of affirmation but he did not turn down Prince’s request either. So Prince slowly took his hand, and began to slowly sway to the music.

After a few moments of no response, Anxiety grasped a bit tighter at Prince’s hand, and took his other to wrap around Prince’s waist and leaned his head on the others shoulder, minimizing the distance between the both of them.

Prince’s smile seemed to turn more sincere and he pressed a kiss against Anxiety’s temple.

As they danced Prince slowly lead them out of their sway into small steps, into larger ones, and then finally they were slowly traveling around the room, Prince holding Anxiety close, spinning him, and slowly bringing a smile to Anxiety’s lips and laughter to his eyes.

As the song came to an end, Anxiety was dipped, and he pulled Prince down to kiss him long and sweet.

When they both stood once more, Anxiety let out a soft laugh against the others lips.

“Thank you,” He kissed him again softer, and when he pulled away placed a few more pecks to the others soft lips.

“I love you, Prince.”

“I love you, Anxiety.”

anonymous asked:

Im curious what if s/o is so stressed It makes Her Sick af but she has no idea of how To deal with that and 76/reaper try To help Her uh Can You do Lil fics for 76 and reaper ?( like 2 fics)

Soldier 76

You felt nausea building up, hands burrowed in your hair. Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at the swimming paperwork. A tear slipped out and that nausea built up even more. The door opened and you didn’t even look up as Jack slipped in.

“Do you know you’re doing this to yourself,” he asks, hand hesitantly resting on your shoulder.

“Yes,” you stressed, “I can’t help it.”

“How about we take a break,” he pulled your firm grip off of the desk, “Before you vomit.”

You struggled for a moment before acquiescing, tiredly following him. He made you turn around, resting his hands on your shoulder. He pressed into the muscle, massaging the skin underneath him.

You groaned as he worked out your kinks, your shoulders relaxing and stress ebbing. Way too soon he pulled away, you feeling a lot better.

“Thank you,” you murmured and he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

“No problem,” he whispered, breath tickling your skin, “Let me know if I can help again.”


You leaned against the bathroom door, body shaking as you vomited into the toilet. Shivers spread through your body, suddenly cold and you hesitantly flushed down your sick.

“If I come in are you going to vomit on me?” Reaper’s muffled voice came from behind the door.

“No,” you groaned, head pressing against the cool seat.

The door opened and the wraith stood there, dropping down next to you. He rubbed your back as shivers wracked your body. 

“You should probably learn how to relax,” he deadpanned and you groaned, “Especially when you get so worked up you vomit.”

“I’ve tried everything,” you felt tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, your bottom lip shaking.

“Shh,” he cooed and he rubbed a little faster.

“Let’s try to deal with this,” he finally said, hand reaching out for you to take.

When you took it he helped you out, returning back to the paperwork. Giving you tips on how to relax a little while you work.


It was sort of her own fault, getting stuck in this blizzard. It wasn’t even in its full force yet but her toes were already numb in her boots barely able to curl them closer to her foot, but thankfully they were dry. Obi had a firm grip on her wrist as he pulled her behind him, their feet crunching down the snow beneath them making them sink in with every step, while rock-hard snowflakes slapped against her cheeks almost wounding them by sheer force.

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anonymous asked:

With a firm grip on the gun, the green haired girl calmly inched closer to the boy with the crown whose attention was fully on the blonde next to him.

Betty was lost in the conversation, her focus solely on him and what he was saying, she didn’t notice the other girl either at first. It wasn’t all that surprising either, the girl was silent and small, she didn’t look threatening in her normal appearance, however, the gun she held now did add a certain edge.

“You feelin’ lucky.” She said in a low tone, Betty yelped and gasped as she took in the sight before her, Jughead spun to come eye to eye with the barrel of a hand gun.

And then she pulled the trigger.

Water spurted out of the shockingly realistic gun and splatterd onto Jug’s forehead, dripping into his eyes as she fired again and again. “Hey, JB.” He sighed, spitting the water that was on his lips.

“What’s up big brother?” She giggled, wiping one of her hands on her Pink Floyd T-shirt as she grinned at him, “We’re back!”

(This could have gotten hella tense but I refused to endanger jughead irl)

Eobard Thawne x Reader

Imagine Eobard introducing you to Washout (Malcolm Merlyn) and Deadman (Damian Darhk), but then getting really overprotective of you…

“(Y/N) this is Washout and Deadman,” Eobard casually explained, pointing a hand to the two men as he took his place beside you.

You looked over the two men and suppressed a giggle as Eobard dubbed them ‘Washout’ and ‘Deadman’. ‘Washout’ seemed like someone you could get along with. ‘Deadman’, on the other hand, not so much. He didn’t seem so interested in you, more interested with Eobard’s arsenal of weapons. Not that you cared anyway.

Malcolm rolled his eyes, but took a step forward with a hand outstretched, “My name is Malcolm Merlyn,” you took his hand and shook it. For a Washout he had a firm grip.

“(Y/N),” you replied looking up at the man with a shy smile, which he gladly returned with a wide smirk. Eobard narrowed his eyes at Malcolm, almost contemplating whether to stop his heart or not.

“What’s a beautiful young lady, like you, doing with monsters, like us?” Malcolm questioned as he brought your hand up and placed a small kiss on the back of it. Eobard glared at Malcolm and coiled an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You could tell that he was holding himself back from attacking the Washout.

“I’m here to help,” you replied confidently. You had developed healing powers after the particle accelerator exploded. When Eobard disguised himself as Harrison Wells he managed to help you gain control of this new ability.

“Help?” Damian asked turning his attention away from the weapons. Malcolm raised an eyebrow at you, but didn’t speak. “We don’t need a little girl ruining our plans.”

“Watch it Darhk, (Y/N) has healing powers that are of use to us if we were to get injured on our missions. Other than that she’s staying at our base.“ Eobard explained. Looking down at you with adoration in his eyes,“I trust her.”

He let go of you and walked up to the pair in a threatening manner, “And if you lay a finger on her, I will not hesitate to end your petty lives.”

cloniing  asked:

"hear me heartbeat? focus on that." actual trash B]

“Hear my heartbeat?” Sarah murmurs, pulling Cosima in closer to her chest with a gentle yet firm grip. The way she has always been interacting with Cosima over these past few weeks. Or has it been months? Cosima whimpers in Sarah’s hold as she struggles to overcome the trigger of the running water from the sink. Sarah kisses her forehead, slowly, gently, and whispers against her dreads, “Just focus on that, yeah?”

Absently, habitually, Cosima lifts her nautilus necklace to her mouth and begins to gnaw on it, the action focusing her out-of-control mind onto something more simplistic and giving it a chance to stop spinning for a moment. Just above her head, Sarah starts humming the tune of a gentle Ukranian lullaby that Helena had taught her to use when Cosima was triggered. Cosima settles against Sarah’s chest, her muscles unclenching as she chews and listens and breathes.

Sarah keeps humming, and Cosima, whose ear is pressed against Sarah’s chest, hears the deep reverberation and the inflow and outflow of Sarah’s breathing and the steady thudding of Sarah’s constant heart and suddenly wishes she wasn’t so weak. “Mrs. S must think I’m so stupid.”

Statements like that once would’ve caused a knee-jerk reaction of defense, a quick, almost harsh refusal followed by her trademark gruff reassurance. But it hadn’t taken Sarah long to realize that that kind of response was far from what Cosima needed in her fragile, traumatized state. And so she adapted. Because that’s who Sarah Manning was. A chameleon. A survivor. But this time, not at all for herself. This time, it was for Cosima. Though, if Sarah paused to think about it for more than a minute, she would admit to herself that it had always been for Cosima.

“No, love. Not at all,” Sarah kisses her head again, keeping her lips pressed against her rough dreads. “She knows you’re getting better. And she’s so proud of how far you’ve come.” Like I am, Sarah thinks, but the affirmation sticks in her throat. Because there’s more to that statement than just gentle pride and Sarah knows it. Which is why she keeps her lips pressed shut.

“She… she ran w-water… for d-dishes a-and I j-just s-saw her standing over me and I… I c-can’t.. I…” The nautilus necklace falls out of her hands as her fingers go to her opposite wrist and start to tear at the slowly healing scars there.

“Cos,” Sarah calls gently, hoping to bring her out of the past. When Cosima’s eyes seem to unfocus, Sarah brings her arm down to gently pull apart Cosima’s hands, to prevent her from further physically damaging herself. “Just breathe for me, love. Okay?”

“I d-don’t want t-to… to f-feel like th-this, S-Sarah,” Cosima stumbles, the stutters a result of her trauma and the breaking emotion rising to the surface.

“You wont,” Sarah assures her gently, “Not forever, yeah? Until then, I’ve got you, Cos. I’ve got you.” She encourages Cosima to settle back down onto her chest and starts humming a melody in time with her heartbeat.

Imagine: Pillow Fights

Jimin lifted the hefty cotton balls, one in each hand, before throwing them across the table, one falling over the edge and the other smacking Hoseok upside the head.

“Ouch! Why you…”

Jimin giggled and ran back to the open bag of cotton, digging for another, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“Gotcha!” Hoseok grabbed a squealing Jimin around the waist, hoisting him over his shoulder. 

“Let me down, no fair!” Kicking, Jimin tried to escape. “I was winning!”

“Winning what?” Hoseok struggled to keep a firm grip on his tiny boyfriend. 

“Th-The pillow fight, duh.” Jimin huffed. He was quickly losing strength after launching those cotton balls so far and the subsequent sprint away from an annoyed Hoseok.

“These aren’t even pillows, the heck?”

“You have no imagination, idiot.”

Just then, Jimin let his weight drop, all the fight seemingly leaving him. The sudden shift in weight caused Hoseok to lose balance, the two men pitching forward into the opening of the bag and into mounds and mounds of fluff.



After swimming to the top of the pile Jimin fluffed up one of the balls and laid his head on it. “Hey, hun?”

“Yeah,” came Hoseok’s muffled response as his head popped up, body still buried in white.

“Think I can pay Kook-ah to sew us a few pillowcases?”

Hoseok smirked, crawling up to rest his head next to his boyfriend’s. The cotton was soft when it wasn’t aiming to take off his head. He laid an arm across Jimin’s waist. “Maybe. I like the way you think.”

anonymous asked:

Can you do a thing with Mystras trying to teach his s/o how to fight?


“Keep a firm grip!” 

You grip tightened on the lance you had retrieved from Zepar’s dungeon. You didn’t know how to use it which is why you asked Mystras to help teach you how. 

“Okay, now charge at me with all your might!” He took his fight stance and stood his ground, waiting for you to charge.  

You took your stance and took in a few breaths, just as you were about to push yourself towards him his voice stopped you. 


You gave him a confused expression as he walked up to you with a frown on his face. He looked like he was getting ready to critic you on your form. 

Which is exactly what he did. 

“Your hands are too far you have to bring them down…” 

You drowned out his voice as he continued to critic your form and make several adjustments. You couldn’t but smile as you realized that he wasn’t blushing or stuttering as he touched you, he must have really wanted to focus on helping you grow stronger. 

As he saw your smile a small blush formed against his cheeks, “w-what?” 

You giggled and placed a hand on his shoulder, “thank you for wanting me to grow stronger, Mystras.” 

He returned your smile and wrapped his arms around you, “of course.”