Cause pretty isn't pretty enough. - a.k.g × j.w.h

wc : 417 ( im sorry i really tried )

pairings : avery grambs x jameson hawthorne, from the inheritance games.

synopsis : avery's been a bit more insecure lately, and, of course, jameson notices.

warnings : short!!! a bit ooc ish to me bc im scared n paranoid like that. being insecure, mentions of skipping meals/self starvation ig.

a/n : ok i think im gonna take a quick break from requests bc its been a bit bad lately + audience is slightly decreasing.

taglist : @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys, @urbanflorals, @never-enough-novels, @reminiscentreader, @reyna-obsessed, @kozumesphone, @lxvebelle, @sophiesonlinediary, @shuhuaspookie, @off-to-the-r4ces, @lanterns-and-daydreams.

Avery stood in front of the mirror. Her hands on various parts of her body. What could I change about myself, to look prettier?  Avery questioned herself. With the media and paparazzi and everything else, she felt– unworthy, of sorts. Was she skinny enough? Was she even pretty? Was her face only a mere cover for articles left and right? Did she act properly? She could feel a tear roll down her cheek, letting it fall on the wooden floors.

Strangers; people she didn’t know could say 1 word about her body– or herself and she’d listen.

“Why is her posture so bad?”

“She doesn’t act like deserve billions.”

“She’s not even pretty.”

“What did Tobias even see in her?”

It got to her head. She tried to stop listening, but it was millions of people saying those things. Millions. How could she ever ignore them? Jameson noticed that she’d skip meals, stay on her phone until tears pricked her eyes, that she’d stand in front of the mirror and question herself: What can I change?

“Heiress?” She heard an all too familiar voice calling out. She quickly wiped the tear and stepped away from the mirror, but not quick enough that Jameson was already in the room. “Avery.” Jamie strode closer in a few quick, long steps. His hand found her waist in an instant. “Huh- Sorry.” Avery quickly snapped her thoughts away, placing a small, sad smile on her face. 

Jameson didn’t even have to ask. It wasn't often that Avery would stand in front of the mirror and let herself down, but it doesn’t mean it never happens either. “Avery, look at me.” Jameson used his free hand to tilt her head towards him. “You’re enough. You’re enough for me, for the world, for everyone. You’re so perfect, Heiress. Please, don’t think you aren’t” Jamie held her like she was a piece of glass that he was too afraid to break, even though she wasn’t. “No ones perfect Jamie.” Avery whispered, trying to yank her face away from Jamie’s grip. “I’m not letting you go until you believe me.” Jameson held his grip, stronger than before, even.

“You might not let go then,” Avery kept the sad smile plastered on her face. “Heiress,” Jameson’s voice broke, pulling her into a hug. “You’re so, so beautiful, Heiress and I think you need to know that,” He mumbled into her hair, sure that she wasn’t going to hear it. “Please, please know that.” Jameson silently begged.

under/over - g. hawthorne

wc: 1.3k idk how i feel about this one, it hurts me to write angstt i hope you enjoy!!

im under water, but i’m over you.

you and grayson were everything. you completed each other — finding him helped you find yourself, and the same goes for him. to him, you were the sun. you lit everything up, your presence kept everything together, and you were the focus of his life. 

that was until about a year ago, when he broke up with you.

something about “different paths in life,” “not in the right headspace,” and “i’m sorry.”

grayson being grayson, of course brought you out to a nice dinner to break up with you. you were so excited, got all ready, and looked your best, only to leave feeling more ugly and defeated than you ever have.

“so it meant nothing to you? all of this?” he responded with silence, and in hindsight you wish he would’ve left it at just that. “it didn’t mean enough.”

it didn't mean enough.

you didn’t mean enough.

you’re not enough.

every day felt like a vinyl record on repeat, the only skips being the dreams you’d have when everything was still perfect. you’d long for them so much that once you’d wake up that you’d stay in bed all day, hoping they’d come back. but they didn’t. 

instead, your mind was swarmed with endless thoughts.  “was i too much?” “was i seriously so caught up in being with him, that i didn’t notice we were falling apart?” “what did i do wrong?” 

but that was all a year ago, you had put it behind you. you’re over it now.

whenever you remember the girl grayson made out of you after the breakup, you almost want to laugh. you pity her, you want to give her a hug, and you want to slap some sense into her at the same time.

you’re better now, though. you took down every single thing that grayson was remotely tied to in your room. letters, gifts, and those stupid photos that seemed to cover every wall in your house. your friends say to just find a guy to mess around with and forget about grayson. but how could you ever not think about him? he was everywhere. 

the pattering of your feet running against the cold concrete filled your ears, your heels in your hands, and grayson already starting to take off his suit jacket, 50 or so meters ahead of you. you and grayson had a secret hangout spot—not so secret, considering it was a whole house on the hawthorne property—but it was you and grayson's secret. his grandfather had built it way back for whatever reason but never paid it any mind. you doubted he even remembered it exists. “wait for me!” you almost scream-giggled. the sky was painted a dark blue, the sun long gone, contrasting with the lighted pool behind the house, inviting you and grayson in. 

you were a laughing mess, and the second you were both out of your formal clothes from the event you left early, you grabbed graysons hand and jumped into the pool. you had planned before the event that you were going to swim, hence the clothes under, and it was now approaching 2 in the morning.

you weren’t sure if what you and grayson were doing even counted as swimming. splashing water in each other's faces, swimming away from grayson only to be pulled back in, and laughing so loud that they could be heard from miles away.

you splash more water in graysons face, after he tried to kiss you and you pretended to lean in. when he pulled back, after being met with water rather than your lips, he was trying to act annoyed, but his lips that twitched upwards betrayed him. 

you laugh at his silence and start to swim away. you were a good swimmer, but grayson was out of this world. that, and your never ending laughter minimized your ability to swim properly. he caught up within seconds and caged you in at the edge of the pool, and you were standing in between his arms.

you push your arms against the water at a punishingly fast pace. you’ve been swimming for roughly 2 hours now. you would’ve been sure your limbs weren’t there anymore if you didn’t feel that dull ache.  1,2,3,4, up, 1,2,3,4 up. 

tobias hawthorne died, and it seemed like all the progress you made did too.

he had a will reading; you weren't going to go - if you had a choice, but your presence was required. this was your way of prepping for it. if you’re so focused on the pain of your muscles, you won’t be able to feel any other types of pain. right?

“sorry,” you managed to get out after moments of laughing on end. you placed your hands on the side of grayson’s face, to which he looked up at the sky and almost shook his head in disbelief. with an ever present smile on his face, he looked back at you, and then he kissed you. somehow even in chlorine-filled water and wet hair sticking to your face, the kiss was as perfect as ever. this time, you didn’t splash him. his arms that were by your side now hooked under your legs and were holding you up, and your legs were wrapped around his waist.  you pulled back from the kiss and rest your forehead on his.

nothing could ever ruin this moment.

“if we ever broke up, i don’t think i’d ever be able to swim again.” you confess, if you two weren’t as physically close as you were you doubt he would’ve even heard you. “if we ever broke up, i don’t think i’d be able to live with myself.” his tone matched yours. sincere, and full of love.

upon entering the cold room full of memories at every corner, with every person, you were hyper-aware of every single nerve in your body, feeling everything everywhere.

but suddenly, you went numb, you couldn’t feel your limbs, and you felt like you were watching your life from a 3rd-person perspective, floating outside. 

your eyes met icy blue ones.

for the first time in over a year.

you look at each other, and even with all your inner workings and feelings for him all blurred, you realize that you barely even knew who he was anymore. 

but you knew one thing: the look in his eyes was the same. the eyes you fell in love with. the ones that pulled you in deeper and deeper every day, and the ones that told you it was over before he said it himself. it seemed like everyone was looking at you and grayson, yet you weren’t looking at each other anymore. you weren’t going to look at him for the rest of the will reading. not even a glance. you undoubtedly feel his gaze on you, and it takes everything in you not to meet it. you spent all this time becoming a better you, and he was not going to ruin it. you promised yourself. it wasn’t until you heard what you had been left with—what you and grayson have been left with. 

“…and to y/n l/n and grayson hawthorne, i leave you the rosewood property. may you find yourself cherishing it like you once had.”

you broke the promise you made to yourself without thinking, and there was a different look in those icy blue eyes, you’d expect hatred—2 minutes earlier he found out he’d been snubbed of billions, but this look was different. shock? you weren’t shocked, for one, the man knowing about your clearly not-so-secret rendezvous wasn’t surprising. so what was it? his eyes looked so distant, but full of familiar memories that float around in your subconscious. you looked away, and the hawthorne brothers lives were ruined again in another mere 2 minutes. practically all of tobias’ wealth went to a girl they didn’t even know. 

“he left everything to her?” 

“who the hell is she?”

“there must be some mistake.” and that was the first time you heard his voice in roughly a year. funny, that sentence could be applied to a hell of a lot of things.

you tuned all the noise out. what the hell was that look he gave you? was it regret? resentment?  lov— no. you weren’t sure. but it plagued you for the rest of the day, simply standing up and leaving the room when everyone around you seemed to burn into flames. 

i’m under water, am i over you?

xander appreciation post because i love him

im like 1/4 of the way through the brothers hawthorne and um why is rohan kinda 🤭🤭

I'm under the impression that miss JLB ENJOYS gatekeeping Lyra Kane's POV from us 😭😭

PLS JEN FEED US WE'RE STARVING

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

GIGI GIGI GIGI GIGI GIGI!!!

Grayson: I am completely capable of protecting everyone, including myself

Grayson: but damn it felt good to be protected for once.

Yandere! Bad Guy x Reader

I am currently in my Natural Born Killers nostalgia, and so I'm borrowing its vibes and bringing you this: a bad-to-the-bone, rock-and-roll attitude yandere who constantly makes you question your own morality. Featuring an old OC!

Content: gender neutral reader, violence, murder, male yandere

He fell in love with you at first sight. A goody two shoes, quiet and obedient. Shy. Oh, terribly shy. You couldn't even meet his eyes. He knew you were the kind others would step on, take advantage of. But there was more to it, much more to uncover.

Who was it? A relative, a friend, a coworker? You know, that person holding you back, keeping you in your place. The one who'd always make you feel small and insignificant. The one who would always find something to criticize. How did it feel when you found them on the ground, bashed in and bloodied up? He was standing above the lifeless body, catching his breath, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His way of courting you.

He looked so tall in that moment, towering above your hesitant self, his gaze of a confidence and intensity you'd never known before. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in", he said, gesturing towards a convertible he most likely stole earlier that day. What possessed you in that moment to join him without delay? Was it his charisma? Or did you know in the depth of your soul that he wouldn't take no for an answer?

You see, he's known it from the beginning. Someone like you needs someone like him. You’re a sweet little lamb lost among the wolves. The world would eat you right up if you were left by yourself. But now you have him. And he won't let his precious prey get away. Oh, dear, no. If he wants something, he gets it. And he's never wanted anything more than you.

"You didn't...even tell me your name", you sheepishly spoke up from the passenger seat, trying to keep your mind away from the crime you'd just witnessed. "Just call me Tig", he said casually with a yawn, speeding away. "Won't you be in trouble, Tig? Why would you even kill-" you tried to reason. "What kinda question is that? They treated you like shit and it pissed me off." He glanced at you with a frown, taking another drag off his cigarette. "You're mine now, so whatever happens to you is my business. Got it?" You just stared. Was that his way of asking you out?

Tig lives by his own rules, as you quickly learned from becoming his companion. Always on the run, indifferent to the world. For the most part, to your surprise, he's well-behaved. If people don't mess with him, he doesn't mess with them. Simple as that.

Anything involving you, however, sets him off terribly. Like a rabid, ferocious guard dog, he's ready to pounce on whoever approaches you the wrong way. Last week you stopped at a highway diner for coffee, and on your way back to your table, you jokingly pulled a clumsy dance move to the song playing from the speakers. Tig observed you with an amused smile, sipping from his cup. A passerby joined you, resting his arm on your waist flirtatiously. Tig's smile dropped in an instant, and next thing you knew, the whole place was splattered in blood. No one made it out.

"I didn't even finish my coffee", you whined, already used to the occasional massacre. The man hopped behind the counter and threw on a bloodied cap. "What will it be, sir/ma'am?" he pretended, dangling a takeaway cup and starting the espresso machine. "I never told you, but I used to be a barista", he declared proudly. An entirely different person from the unhinged killer you witnessed minutes ago. "What? You said you were a mechanic", you questioned with raised brows. "That's also true. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. You know what I'm best at, though?" He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours. "Pleasing you."

The man is romantic in his own way. He twists the key, and the engine stops. You follow him out of the car in confusion. "Why did we stop here?" He briefly lifts himself up onto the tall fence securing the bridge, and inhales deeply. "Isn't it a nice view?" he says, nodding ahead. It is a scenic sight, sure. The river slithers along the lush valley, and the setting sun gives everything a dramatic tint. "Give me your hand", he suddenly demands as he goes to grab it himself. Before you can ask for an explanation, he quickly drags a blade across your palm, and you wince in pain. He repeats the gesture with his own hand, locking his fingers with yours over the rail. You watch as fresh blood trails along your skin, eventually falling into droplets and vanishing into the river. "Now we're going to be everywhere", he remarks playfully. "Okay, but what was the point?" you insist, a little baffled.

"Isn't it obvious? Maybe this will help", he continues, procuring a ring from his pocket. "I'm saying I want to marry you, (Y/N)."

You open your mouth to answer, but he already slides it up your finger, eyes glimmering in excitement.

"You're never getting away from me, love."

That moment when Nash showed the heirloom ring to his brothers: Jameson: Sh*t, I’m next. Later that night: Jameson: *drafting up his vows*

PART 3 OF JAMESON HAWTHORNE IRL (YES, I'M TURNING THIS INTO A SERIES)

As many of you have seen from my previous post about this wonderful event, I met Jamie irl and our moms are friends from uni!! I called him at 1 am where we live and talked for nearly an hour. We had talked at the embassy for a while, but we really got to know each other and our full names (his middle and last name are even better). So his full name is James Maxime Beaumont and he's part FRENCH. LIKE WTF?????? Yeah, I actually asked him if he had heard of tig and reminded him of how I said that he looked like Jameson, but guess what?! MY MAN'S READ THE FIRST BOOK!! HE ALSO HAS TWO BROTHERS, GABRIEL AND THEODORE (I'LL TRY TO SET SOME OF YALL UP). He made the dumbest jokes and when I asked him to ask me a riddle (yes @f4iry-bell, I asked him) and you know which riddle he asked me???? "What can be touched but can't be seen?" Out of the millions of riddles he could've asked, he picked this one?!?!? And you bet it touched my heart 😉(please tell me someone understood that). We just rambled on and on about the weirdest things and it was really comforting for some reason. WE'RE ALSO GOING TO MEET UP WHEN OUR MOMS DO!! I CAN'T WAITTTTTT

AHHHH UFHA IUGBHYEHRRR KQRARVGK

MORE UPDATES ABOUT THIS COMING SOON!!!

*BTW, THE LAST AND MIDDLE NAMES I GAVE HIM ARE SIMILAR BUT DIFFERENT FROM HIS REAL NAME. I BASED THEM ON HIS REAL NAME, BUT THEY ARE DIFFERENT. I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO HAPPEN TO MY FUTURE HUSBAND JUST AS I MEET HIM*

@f4iry-bell @jamcarven @his-littlefox @jkriordanverse

I just KNOW jameson hawthorne understands hand placement

I promise. - g.h × reader.

wc : 545

pairings : grayson hawthorne x fem!reader, from the inheritance games.

synopsis : in which you find your boyfriend in a situation where he thinks hes worthless, that you'll leave him one day.

warnings : nothing really, js angst and fluff, and grayson being grayson ( hes depressing so thats the warning ), also reader using "baby" bc i cant think of a pet name to call gray

a/n : wrote this as a drabble ish but think im happy with it. reader's kinda fine this time ngl

taglist : @never-enough-novels, @reminiscentreader, @urbanflorals, @kozumesphone, @reyna-obsessed, @lxvebelle, @shuhuaspookie, @off-to-the-r4ces, @pockyyasii.

You entered the room to find Gray sitting on your shared bed, staring blankly at a wall. “Gray?” You called, walking closer towards the bed. “Hm?” He softly answered, snapping out of his trance, finally looking at you. “You okay?” You sat down next to him, reaching out a hand to place on his soft cheeks. He slightly flinched at the contact before answering. “Mhm, I’m okay, love.” He gave you a soft smile and a reassuring nod, but you’ve known Grayson for too long to think any of  it was real. “Tell me? Please baby?” You pouted, looking up at him, eyes locked with his gorgeous icy ones. “I’m okay, really princess. Thank you.” He insisted with a soft peck on your lips. Any other girl would have thought he was perfectly fine, but you didn’t think so. It was a habit of his, to distract others and divert their attention to something else rather than himself. “Grayson. I’m serious, please, tell me what’s wrong?” You practically begged, trying to form the softest, most convincing puppy dog eyes ever. “Mmmm,” Grayson softly groaned, breaking eye contact. You moved closer, now straddling his lap. “Look at me, please baby,” The whine in your voice was now more evident. You’d know better than to push Gray, but you couldn’t see him like this. He was going to be distant, again. He was going to close himself off, again. He was going to lock his heart up in a steel cage, again. You gently reached for his chin before tilting it towards you. “Please, don’t close me off, not again.” You were becoming so desperate at this point, maybe too desperate. “I’m sorry, princess. I won’t close you off again, I promise, I won’t.” His eyes quickly returned to yours, but you could see the void behind those cold blue eyes. “Talk to me then?” You begged. “Fine– sure, yes, sorry. See this is fucking why–” He finally talked, before apologizing then harshly whispering to himself. His hands found his hair, softly yet aggressively pulling at it. His first sign of panic. “Hey, hey, Gray, breathe, breathe. Yeah just like that, breathe. Talk to me?” You panicked as well. “You’re going to leave, once you really figure out who I am behind all of these fucking layers, you’re going to leave, aren’t you?” He quickly sputtered. You were still trying to figure out what he just said. “You’re gonna leave, trust me love. You’re going to leave once you realize that I really am worthless below all these layers I display.” He took a shaky breath. “Grayson, please, look at me.” You gently pulled away the hands that were in his hair. “You mean so much to me, Gray. I’d never leave you. I would never. You mean the world to me, leaving you would be my biggest mistake.” You explained, some parts of you begging for him to realize it. “Really?” His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, so did his gaze. “Yes, truly, I mean it. All of it. I promise with my life that I’ll be here for you, baby.” You smiled up at him. “Promise?” He whispered. You extended a pinky in response before he interlocked his own with yours. “I promise, handsome.”

starting with the first hawthorne brother we meet, grayson !

this is basically what i imagine in my head

left is my attempt at following his canon description, right includes some silly headcanons

i, for one, think he's very pretty either way

he's my personal favourite of the hawthornes; i want to wrap him up in a fluffy blanket and give him so many kisses until he tries to bite me about it

he's desperate to be loved and im so eager to love, it works out

photos of you - grayson hawthorne x reader

pairing: grayson hawthorne x fem!reader

warnings: swearing [like one word] kissing + flufffffff

a/n: so grayson my pookie wookie is getting a fic hehe! should i write a synopsis at the begining of each fic? idk im too lazy to do it rn lol -also its kinda short so sorry

"grayson!" you shriek when you enter his bedroom.

its plain and simple - like grayson - except nothing like grayson because anyone who's met him knows that grayson hawthorne isn't plain or simple.

he's smart, cunning, always sharply dressed - and man does he look good in a suit. like seriously he's so toned and muscly - which you may or may not know after having snuck out to watch him swim once... or twice... okay you do it all the time - he's like a freaking greek god in the form of a human-

sorry what?

got off track there. oops.

anywayyyy

you storm into grayson's room absolutely livid, pacing back and forth in front of a slightly amused grayson.

"like seriously she was such a bitch!" you say swinging around to face him again. "she actually called me the sloppy immature freak. can you believe it? like seriously that girl wouldn't know hard work if it gave her a high five... in the face... with a chair!"

you spin around again resuming your pacing continuing on before he can say anything.

"and to come at me during work-" your eyes catch onto grayson's open computer. "hey, what's that?"

all but forgetting your rant about the bitchy co-worker of yours, you move over to grayson's desk and plop down into his chair, focusing on the laptop in front of you.

"are these from our date last saturday?" you ask when you feel his presence at your back.

"yeah, i took a few and then had the flower stall vendor take some as well," his rich voice reaches down to your ears.

you flick through the photos your heart melting with each one he took. most are photos of you not paying attention to him and looking around happily at the park you were at. pure happiness shines in your eyes and you lean back into grayson silently thanking him and complimenting him on his work.

"its all you," he whispers as if he read your mind.

you instantly pause when you reach a photo of you both. you're looking at the camera smiling at the kind vendor but grayson. grayson.

he's looking at you like you're his entire world. like he'd willingly give up everything just to see you happy. the pure love, adoration and devotion in his eyes almost brings you to tears.

god you loved him.

"i like this one," you squeak out, still

"why's that?"

"because you can see how much you love me," you smile getting up out of your seat and wrapping your arms around his neck. "you look at me like i'm your world, gray."

"you are," he whispers wrapping his arms around your waist, smiling softly. you love how he lets this, softer, calmer, less rigid side of himself be shown with you. grayson is all sharp edges and cutting looks to the outside world, so it always seems to warm your heart that you get to be apart of this piece of him.

"i love you," you smile sweetly up at him and press a soft kiss to his lips. "so much."

"i love you," grayson says quietly. "more than you know."

later on when you've left, grayson makes quick work of emailing the photos off to a printing store, wanting you to have copies as soon as possible and making his favourite photo - the one of you grinning at the camera, or more like the person behind the camera, him - his lockscreen.

he'll never admit it to anyone else but he has always had a photo of you as his lockscreen, always, even from the early stages of your relationship. he had felt like he was keeping a small piece of you with him, a small piece of your happiness that seeps into his cold harsh behaviour when he's working.

so its a habit to save those pictures to the album he has on his phone and computer. its a habit to have the photos printed out and sent to your flat along with a bouquet of flowers.

its a habit to be grinning for hours in his room after you left.

its a habit to go scrolling through the albums and albums of photos he has of you. because honestly? out of all the places grayson has been, all the different photos and emotions he's caught on camera, out of all them,

photos of you are his favourite.

[taglist] @nqds, @nuncscioquidsitamor-14, @lxvebelle, @reminiscentreader, @ [if you wanted to be added or removed lemme know!]

a/n pt2: lol i think it kinda deteriorated at the end there.

Seven year old Grayson: JAMIE CALLED ME THE B WORD! Six year old Jameson: MOTHERF*CKER DOESN'T START WITH A B! Tobias: *chokes on coffee*