#The Painful Statements Tour

[slrmagazine]

NONPOINT Announce The Painful Statements Tour with Special Guests Crobot and Heartsick

NONPOINT Announce The Painful Statements Tour with Special Guests Crobot and Heartsick. #nonpoint @nonpoint

NONPOINT announced The Painful Statements Tour with special guests Crobot and Heartsick. The tour is in celebration of the 20th and 25th Anniversaries of the band’s two most popular albums, TO THE PAIN and STATEMENT. The band will play songs that not only haven’t been heard in a long time, but also songs that have never been played live. Leg 1 of the tour will kick off on January 10, 2025 at The…

[thekidsarentalright]

this year rly should be the year i get believers never die tattooed on me like ive been wanting since i got into fob huh. bc like. this whole era this whole tour is so. believers never die. the timing has never felt so right

[catboybiologist]

The year is 2030.

At the Cincinnati stop of her "world tour", Taylor Swift ends her set. As she walks off the stage, she leans into a nearby mic and says "oh by the way, I'm lesbian".

She's still milking a public relationship with a man named Chett Whitesman, so this is met with a combination of cheers and confusion. Immediately, the media mobilizes. They have to intercept her before she gets onto her private jet, and ambush her for an interview. Luckily, this has become much easier these days. Since the release of her 2027 album, "The Carbon Emissions of my Heart", T Swizzle has performed a ritual sacrifice of an endangered species on live camera every time she boards her jet, a #girlboss way of saying that her emotional pain can only be healed by the tortured screams of drowning polar bears.

(Since this practice started, a devoted faction of Swifties have started a carbon negative algae farming commune, with the express intent of negating taytay sweezie's contributions to climate change. Apparently "her tortured soul deserves to pollute without guilt". They haven't even come close to their goals.)

Taytor Twift is intercepted after this ritual, as she's walking up the steps of her plane. When asked what the lesbian statement was about, she nonchalantly says "oh, I thought it was clear that was a joke. Anyways, G T G!" , before biting into the still beating heart of an emperor penguin.

During her flight, discourse on the newly renamed twitter-X-ElonIsExtremelyVirile Corp goes nuclear like it never has been before.

There's a camp of swifties thoroughly convinced that her relationship with Chett is all a beard so that she can still keep touring in the New Christian Republic of Florida, and the interview at the plane was deepfaked.

A different camp of Swifties feels insulted and betrayed that she would be anything less than a paragon of allyship. To them, this is the worst slight the queer community has ever experienced.

A third camp of Swifties insists that she *is* dating Chett, and is also a lesbian. They get insulted that anyone would police Taylor's labels. Comparisons to the Boulder, Colorado shooter are made.

A group of non Swifties tries to point out that everyone is fucking insane and that 'ole taytay regularly tear gases pride rallies to make way for her promenade to stadium venues, and who the fuck cares about this shit and point out that what a billionaire celebrity does for five minutes of PR is not worth your attention or discourse, nor does it warrant harassing other people for the labels *they* use, and isn't it really fucked up that Taylor is making a joke of how people describe their identities? They are promptly doxxed, harassed, and banned.

Bi lesbian discourse is off the charts. Nothing Taylor said has anything to do with it, but it happens anyways.

A lone transsexual who actually goes outside once in a while tweets "hey guys isn't it kinda fucked up that 2.4 billion people have been displaced by mega storms this year that her jet contributes to and is also specifically designed to fly over" and is promptly doxxed and harassed off the platform.

After an exhausting 9 minute plane ride, Tailing Swiffer lands in Columbus for the next performance of her world tour. She unveils a new single that contains the line "ride my horse after dumping him, stepping up onto my SAD dle".

All is forgotten. All is quiet. The Swifties continue as usual, moving on to the next discourse about these lyrics.

[papaya-twinks]

lando with staff member maybe mclaren legal intern or lawyer?

Than youu and congrat🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Warnings: mean!lando, swearing

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - IM A LAW STUDENT YAYAYAYYAYAYAYYAYAYA but I’m doing intern instead 🤫 

“Who’s she?” Lando raised an eyebrow at you walking round the lobby of the MTC. “New intern,” Oscar muttered, watching as you stared at the cars on display, awe etched across your face. “I can tell,” Lando muttered, the impressed look on hout face making Lando feel a strange sense of pride, somehow. “Should we say hi?” Lando asked as Oscar shrugged. 

“Why not?” the Aussie shrugged, following Lando to where you were standing. “Yo,” a voice said behind you, making you jump slightly, your cheeks flushing as you found yourself staring at the two McLaren drivers. “Hello,” you said shyly, looking between them, surprised they’d come to you. “You’re new,” Lando said, the words more a statement of fact than a question as you nodded. 

“D’you need help finding-?” Oscar was cut off by Lando. “You look stupid just walking round,” he said, his voice nonchalant and cool as you flushed a bit. “Sorry,” you muttered, looking down as Lando rolled his eyes. “Where are you supposed to be?” Lando said, looking you up and down. You were pretty, very pretty. And lost looking. Like a cute puppy. 

“I’m not sure,” you said, “I was just told to be here,”. Lando looked at Oscar, a look of disbelief across the older man’s face. “She having a laugh?” Lando said, nodding his head curtly to you. His words were harsh and cold, but there was a hint of curiosity in his voice, which didn’t go unnoticed to you. 

“Come with us,” Oscar decided, standing forwards as Lando followed, watching you hurry behind then, clutching your bag and phone. “Maybe but your phone in the bag, it��ll help,” Lando said, his voice borderline condescending. There was something about being an asshole to you that gave him some sort of sick pleasure. 

Of course, it wasn’t as extreme as sadistic bullshit, but he still found it fun. Hyoid followed Lando and Oscar to a small room,a briefing room with a computer in it and a desk. Lando typed quickly on the computer, not looking. Jo as Oscar watched. “Name?” Lando asked. “Y/N Y/L/N,” he froze after your name, his eyebrow raised. That was a pretty name. 

“Y/Bm” he muttered, typing in your name, immediately flashing up with the results.  “What is it?” Oscar asked, peeking tour t eh computer and peering at the monitor. “An assistant, huh?” Lando said, “And my assistant, too,”. You nodded, clutching your bag as Lando sighed. “Sure, whatever,” Lando groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Get me some coffee,”. 

You nodded hurriedly, scrambling out of the room as Lando watched you. “She’s gonna be a pain,” Lando rolled his eyes as Oscar tutted. “Give her a chance, mate,” Oscar clapped the Brit on his shoulder. Lando shrugged, watching as you came back with a cup, steam coming up from the lid. “So you are useful,” Lando mused, taking a sip of the coffee. 

It was really good, actually. Not that he’d admit it. “Lando, mate,” Oscar snorted, “play nice,”. Lando rolled his eyes as his teammate left, leaving him standing with you, watching you. His eyes roved over your body, your pretty outfit, a little black dress, giving him a nice view. “Right, then,” he said, clapping his hands as he stared at you. “You’re gonna be helpful, and not a waste of space,” he said, nodding to you. 

You nodded vehemently as Lando rolled his eyes, your enthusiasm and eagerness to please being very nearly endearing. Nearly. Lando was not about to find himself attracted to a girl he just met, and that too, knew nothing of. “Right,” he said, looking you up and down. “Why are you dressed like that?” he asked, your own gaze falling to the outfit that adorned your body. 

“Zak told me to dress formally,” you said, tugging at the dress sheepishly. “Right, then,” Lando said. Formally, not like a pretty little doll. “So, Y/N,” he leaned on the table as he stared at you, your cheeks fed from the intensity, “what can you do to help me?”. Well, that was a dumb question. “Paperwork and stuff, I guess,” you shrugged, “whatever you want me to,”. 

Lando clucked his tongue at your last phrase, his eyes trailing up and down your body. “Anything?” he asked as you nodded, not quite realising the sexual implications he’d managed to bring from your somewhat innocent sentence. “Well, for starters,” Lando spoke, his tone hard to decipher, “refill thus,” he handed you the cup. 

He was gonna have fun with this.

A/N - Comment if you want a part 2 (need 10 to convince myself to do so) 👇

[killerlookz]

She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty | Joost Klein

description: joost klein x f! reader You and Joost manage to find a moment of intimacy over the phone amidst a time of hardship in your relationship. (very much based on of this song <33 so lyrics are scattered throughout!)

content 18+ NSFW, MDNI- phone sex, mutual masturbation, relationship issues, angst/comfort, lots of comfort (if you catch my drift), this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable, and please block the rpf tag

word count: 2425

I'm only trying to work this out / So if you call me at all don't tell me that I'm ordinary / because I won't be passing you, please don't leave

Your stomach churns at the sound of your phone buzzing, over the last week you had associated the sound of your phone buzzing with nothing but tears and heartache.

You roll over, letting the thick comforter that covers you slip down your shoulders as you reach for your phone from the nightstand. Just as you expected. An anxious hand hesitates to pick up the phone, not in the mood to engage in conversation with who you were sure within the coming days would be your ex-boyfriend.

A sharp pang vibrates throughout your chest looking at the screen that shines at you.

Joost <3

Rather hurtfully paired with a picture of the two of you together, his arms wrapped around you, lips pressed against your cheek in a soft kiss.

You roll your eyes, he was going to keep calling if you didn't pick up. You huff, giving in, ripping your phone from where it sat next to your bed. Reluctantly you answer, your chest tightening waiting to hear the voice on the other end.

"Y/n?" The trepidation in Joost's voice was apparent, "Are you there, schatje?" The inclusion of the pet name made you wince, sounding all too sweet for your displeasure with him at the moment. Usually, you'd revel in his compliments and sweet nothings- but not now, you couldn't.

Things had been unusually hard lately, only exacerbated by the fact that Joost had been away on tour. It seemed like all the two of you had done in the last few weeks was fight. Usually about petty, little things- things that didn't even really matter but in the moment they seemed like everything. Half the time you couldn't even remember what the arguments were about, all that remained were bitter feelings and tear stains that lingered on your cheeks.

It had all culminated last night- a screaming match unparalleled to any other petty argument the two of you shared in recent weeks. You knew deep down that neither of you had meant any of the horrible, venom-dripped words you had spit at each other. But right now it felt impossible to ever forgive, much less forget.

"I'm here." You respond, short, monotone- trying not to give too much away about how you were feeling.

"Oh, y/n," He breathes, "I've been worried, I've been trying to talk to you since last night."

"I saw." You answer, just as short and uninterested as your last statement. Joost had been blowing up your phone for the last 24 hours- so terribly you had considered blocking his number at least for a little while.

"I know you're mad at me, y/n, but I still worry about you, you can't just ignore me like that." His voice is firm like he's scolding you- but you can sense a pain behind your voice, and if you hadn't been so fed up at the moment, you'd almost feel sorry for ignoring him.

"Oh," You snap, "So you're going to tell me what I can and cannot do now?"

"Why are you looking for a fight, y/n?" He sighs, "I'm just saying I was worried about you, how was I supposed to know what happened?"

"I'm not looking for a fight."

"You're always looking for a fight," Frustration is heavy in Joost's words.

"Is that really what you think of me?" You scoff, covering the ache you feel in your heart with anger.

You hear Joost let out a breath on the other end, "No," You note how tired he sounds as he continues, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. You know I didn't mean that."

"I don't know that. It sounds like you did." You're having none of his apology, weeks of growing resentment were not going to be fixed by one simple apology.

"Mijn lieve meisje" (My sweet girl) He coos, "I don't mean to make you so angry." His voice has softened, a stark contrast to the harsh tone of your own voice, "You know I hate to hear you sound like this- even worse to know I did it."

Something about the gentleness of his voice, and the way he seems so aware of his own role in all of this makes your heart thump- and you almost want to forgive him altogether. But you can't, not right now- not yet.

I hear you breathing on the line... / I leave you hurting every night

"Het spijt me (I am sorry), I want to make things better between us."

"I don't know," You mumble, unsure of if there is even anything that could make things better.

"You don't know how badly I wish I was with you," His voice rich with longing, "I need to make these last few weeks up to you. I miss you liefje, I miss us."

You can't lie, you want that too, wishing so badly just for everything to go back to normal, to no longer have this hole in your chest, for your body to no longer ache with this profound sadness.

"It's just going to be so hard to forget last ni-"

"I know, schatje." He cuts you off, "You have every reason in the world to be angry with me."

"Are you angry with me?" You ask, wondering if he mirrored your own upset feelings towards

"Angry isn't the right word, no." And suddenly your stomach churns with guilt, "I'm just tired of how things have been."

You're tired too, tired of dreading his calls, tired of the tears, tired of the sleepless nights regretting every awful word you've said.

"Me too," You murmur

"I won't force you to forgive me," Joost sighs, "Not until you're ready. But I know you're upset, and I want you to feel better."

His words are so soft, so gentle, melting away your anger with each. careful syllable.

"Can you talk to me, please?" He's practically pleading.

"What do you want to talk about?" You're unsure of what conversation could fill this dead air, how you could possibly talk and things feel okay.

"Tell me what you're doing now," He requests, his words quick.

"I'm just in bed," You shrug nothing special.

"Breaks my heart to think about you all alone in that big bed." You can't tell if the pity in his voice is mocking or genuine.

"I guess it's okay," You had gotten used to the loneliness, it was worse in the first few days he had been gone.

"Mh-mh," he mumbles in disagreement, "Hate thinking about how my pretty girl has to sleep alone every night."

There's a sensuality in his tone that makes you clench your jaw, and your breathing deepen. His pretty girl. His.

"In my bed, at that." He adds.

You supposed he was technically right- you had been the one to move into his apartment.

You hum softly into the phone, not able to come up with many words to say, he seemed more like was simply just thinking out loud than having a conversation.

"I miss you," He says again, "Tell me you miss me too, schatje, I know you do."

There's something about the way he speaks that makes you oblige so easily,

"Miss you too," You mumble, head falling to the side as your eyes close.

"Mmm good," He's practically purring to you, "You're so good."

The praise was simple, you hadn't done much past admitting something the two both knew was true, but it felt like it had been so long since the two of you had spoken so gently to one another, and so you absolutely drank it up.

"You're saying so little, what is on your mind?" He pries like he's looking for something specific.

"Nothing, really." You're entirely self-aware of how boring you must sound to him, but it's the truth- sort of.

He hums in response, "Can I tell you what I'm thinking about?" He asks, his voice oozing with anticipation

"I won't stop you,"

"I'm thinking about you, thinking about how beautiful you must look right now, about holding you, how your body feels against mine, about-" He stops short,

"About..?" You trail off, wanting him to continue his pretty praises. A delightful tingle was beginning to spread through your body, his kind words making you weak.

"More of the same," He says quickly, "Just thinking about being with you now."

A soft smile sweeps over your face at the thought, though you assumed your thoughts now had to be a lot less innocent than his. You couldn't help yourself, you'd been so pent up since he left that the smallest words of adoration were setting you off.

Your hands trail down under the covers, rubbing at your inner thigh, before softly grazing over your panties. You let out a sigh, rubbing soft circles over your clit through the thin lacey fabric.

Your breathing quickens as you deepen your movements, rubbing with more intention now. You arch your back, thinking about how this would be going down if Joost was here, the two of you had never needed to have makeup sex before- but you supposed now was as good of a time as ever to imagine it.

You think about how Joost said he needed to make it up to you, about how the last few weeks had been- at this moment you couldn't have thought of a better way for him to make things up to you than with his tongue, or his fingers, or his cock.

Your pussy ached at the thought of him- the thought of you stretching around him as he mumbles sweet words in your ears about how sorry he is.

You slip your panties to the side, a finger sliding down your now-soaked folds, the contact making you gasp, "Fuck,"

You can hear Joost clicking his tongue on the other end of the line- and suddenly you realize what you had just done, your body growing with an uncomfortable and shameful heat.

"So dirty," He chastizes

"W-what?" You sputter, attempting to feign innocence about what you had been doing.

Who wouldn't let you scream 'oh' into a soft pillow / I'm such an animal, and baby honestly these teeth won't let you go

"It's okay, schatje, you don't have to act stupid," His smirk is audible through the phone, "Don't be embarrassed, keep going, let me talk you through it."

Your body relaxes and your embarrassment subsides.

"Now, will you tell me what you're thinking about?" He asks sweetly

"Thinking," A soft sigh falls from your lips, "About you," Your hand slowly crossing your thighs to return to your throbbing cunt, "About how bad I want you." The words are a struggle to get out as you resume drawing circles around your swollen clit.

"Yeah?" He encourages, and you hear some shifting on the phone, "What do you want?"

"I want," You breathe out, "You," Another breath, "Inside of me."

"Fuck," He groans, his breathing becoming louder, "Want this cock, pretty?"

"Y-yes- ah!" You can't suppress your high-pitched yelp as you slip a finger into your leaking entrance.

"Say it, tell me how much you want me to fuck you." He begs, his voice low and gritty.

"So bad, Joost, need to be fucked so bad" Your words are breathless as you pump your fingers in and out, making your eyes screw shut tight. "Fuck, I haven't had you inside of me in so long, I need it." You feel your lower stomach tightening, pleasure taking hold of you.

"How about my tongue, hm? I'd love to taste you right now, always so sweet for me," Joost sounds just about as breathless as you do right now, and the thought of him on the other end only makes you want to work your fingers harder.

"Uh-huh," You whine, thinking about his tongue lapping at your arousal, his tongue trailing from your swollen clit to your quiver entrance, teasing, before taking a dip inside. "Anything- just need you."

"Oh, you have me, you'll always have me." His words are hungry, and you can tell he's speaking through a clenched jaw, "Fuck, liefje, you have me so worked up like this and you're not even here, love hearing that pretty voice of yours."

You're almost positive you're certainly in an even more worked-up state than he is.

"Mmmneed you to fuck me until I can't walk," You sigh, unable to help but think about him absolutely ruining you, his hands groping your flesh as he pounds into you, unrelenting. "My fingers can't reach as good as you do," You can't help but stroke his ego a little, he deserved it after the hell you had been putting him through.

"Oh," He whines, "arme schatje, (poor baby) I know, I know, just keep working those fingers for me though, okay?"

Despite your fingers not being able to hit all the same places Joost can, the pressure in your body is still building, and you can tell you're losing control, especially as a long string of groaned expletives falls from Joost's mouth, his obvious pleasure only working further to push you to the edge.

"I'm c-close," You stutter, your legs starting to shake.

"Speak up, baby- want to hear how you cum for me."

The pace at which your fingers pulse in and out of you increases, working to bring yourself over the edge. You imagine Joost inside you, imagine him bringing you to an orgasm and cumming all over the length of his cock.

You can't talk now, your words are simply replaced by loud moans and gasps as you hope to god you don't wake up the neighbors.

In the throughs of your orgasm now, your back arched- near screaming, "I-I'm cumming, fuck, Joost," You can't finish the rest of your sentence, all you can focus on is the wave of pleasure that overtakes you, the way the tightness in your body is shattering.

"Hold on," Joost grunts, "I'm almost there- hold on,"

You lay on your back, legs shaking, out of breath, listening to Joost on the other end.

He finishes with one final strained "Fuck"

Neither of you speak for a few minutes,- your mind is racing, your thoughts absolutely dizzying as the silence is only filled by the two of you attempting to catch your breaths.

"Still angry now?" Joost asks, finally breaking the tension.

"I don't think so," You're not, you were way too blissed out to feel anything but complete, overwhelming love.

"So you love me again?" He jokes, chuckling to himself.

"I never stopped."

a/n: i added a pt. II to this, find it here

[confusionmeisss]

can you watch my boyfriend, please? - n. sturniolo

🫧 nick sturniolo x male!reader

🫧 the “can you babysit my boyfriend” tiktok couples trend done with our lovely nicolas!!

🫧 just fluff.

🫧 560 words.

🫧 hello lovelies!! thank you kindly for wanting to read!! i did a chris version of this initially and it made me want to do one for the others as well, so here we are!! enjoy reading & much love!! <3 (ps. happy pride my loves!! 🩷)

matt version masterlist

“Hey y’all, can you watch my boyfriend for me, please? I’ll be back quick, promise,” you say, setting the phone up against a stray glass.

“What the fuck?” Nick says, looking confusedly at the camera then up at you.

“Be good,” you say, placing a kiss on his cheek and walking away.

“Be good?” Nick looks offended by your departing statement. “The fuck? I’m always good. You guys know I’m always good, right?” He asks the camera.

Nick rolls his eyes. “Anyway. I was just editing this weeks Wednesday video which I think is one of our best because it’s funny as fuck.”

“Y’know, you gotta be your own biggest fan, it’s the only way you’ll get anywhere creatively. It’s the same as being your own biggest critic,” he says with a nod of his head. Then he looks directly into the camera seriously. “But you have to know how to balance them out. Like, you have to know when something you made is shit, and know if you have to start over or rework it.”

“Anyway, I’m really bummed out that I don’t have tickets to Melanie Martinez’s The Trilogy Tour,” he says with a slight pout, tapping at the touchpad of his laptop. “I would’ve loved to hear Detention live. And the videos I’ve seen of her concerts before, her outfits always eat! And her stage presence, my God, it’s otherworldly!”

Nick suddenly rolls his eyes as he remembers something. “Ugh, so I went to ask Matt to take me to the store yesterday because we were out of Dr. Pepper, mind you, it’s one in the afternoon, and I walk into his room and he’s absolutely dead asleep.”

“Oh, we went to Target today, and I fucking tripped in a crowded ass aisle like the clumsy fukcer I am,” Nick lets out a huff. “Like it’s embarrassing as fuck when there’s like three different age ranges laughing at you.”

Nick goes to say something else but is cut-off by his bedroom door creaking open. He watches as you walk in and over where he’s sitting at his desk.

He feels you stand behind him, putting your chin in his hair. “Hey I’m back, thanks again for watching him yall. I hope he was good for you!”

Nick rolls his eyes up towards you. “Of course I was good,” he says with an irritated huff. “I’m always good.”

You let out a laugh, placing a kiss into his hair while reaching over him to end your phone’s recording.

—

comments

count on nick to always come at us with some wise words of encouragement ❤️

“yes nick, you’re always good” we all say in unison

nicks offense at being told to be good is sending me into oblivion 😭

is nick alluding that there’s a real og-ness to this week’s wednesday video?????

oh the pain of embarrassing yourself in public 😣

i am matt matt is me bc i too annoy everyone around me by sleeping in till 1pm :)

i feel your pain on not having tickets to melanie’s tour. god bless for tour videos on my fyp 🙏

oh dr pepper lovers rise!!

the affection & the kisses 💓💓

okay but i wanna know what nick was gonna say before the door opening interrupted him…

who else is happy that nick is in a happy loving healthy relationship???? 💛💛💛

[kipkoh]

I know it’s fairly popularized that Hunter liked being the Golden Guard but there was a line in Hunting Palisman that he says to Luz that has always captivated me: “At least you can figure out your own (future).”

This (not very subtle) statement of wishing to make his own decisions coupled with the fact that Hunter was studying wild magic even while he was still in the Coven is heavily indicative of the fact that he was dissatisfied with his role in life. I’m sure he was proud of being Golden Guard and really did want to help Belos in whatever way possible, but a big part of him did wish things could have been different for him. Those desires he announced in Thanks to Them were probably not spur of the moment ideas he wished he could have experienced before what he thought was going to be his death, but rather long term wants he’d been imagining himself taking part in even before he defected.

I’m bringing this idea up mostly because I keep thinking about Hunter’s life in the castle and the rare moments when he got to witness what normal kids lives were like. If the school tours of the castle were a common occurrence, I imagine he'd be curious enough to watch them when he could. At first he'd secretly trail them and observe how the kids interacted with each other, how they joked around with their friends, and overall how carefree they appeared. He'd watch the way they'd awe at the castle in a feeling of excitement he'd never gotten to share having grown up within those walls - the castle being all he’d ever known. Sometimes he'd imagine himself in one of their places - just a normal kid whose biggest worry was getting his homework finished before it was due instead of how he might be tossed aside and replaced by the one he called his family the second he was no longer of any use to him. At some point, maybe he would start avoiding the tours whenever they happened, not wanting to feel that painful yearning for a life that was never even within his grasp and instead choosing to try and forget about it completely in order to convince himself he was content being the person Belos wanted him to be.

Sometimes on his weekend missions he would encounter parents with their children just going about their everyday lives, smiling and happy and completely juxtaposed to his own experience with familial adults. He'd watch the ease of how a child's hand would slip into their parent's as if it was such a natural and common action, without even a hint of fear of negative consequence for the touch. Hunter would look down at his own hands mummified in leather and wonder why he'd never felt the gentle press of someone's loving palm against his own.

He'd watch two young children play fight with loose branches. He'd envy how their battle was pretend and the fact that neither of them were in any real danger. He'd silently scrutinize their battle form before offering to teach them proper tactics, only to be harshly turned away and reminded of the fact that normal kids didn't care, nor have a need, to know how to fight. He'd scoff at their lackluster ambitions and comment about how they would never join a decent Coven with attitudes like that, blatantly ignoring the fact that not everyone was forced to worry about proving their worth to everyone around them.

I don’t think Hunter going to Hexside to find new recruits in Any Sport In a Storm was just a random choice on his part. While there is some evidence that kids can choose to join the Covens early, it doesn’t seem like it’s something they’re forced to do before they at least finish school. Maybe they can be forced, which is what is implied when Hunter kidnapped the Emerald Entrails, but wouldn’t it be easier to seek out new recruits who would actually be willing to join of their own accord? Otherwise there would be no guarantee they would care enough to do their job well.

Hunter did try to recruit them naturally at first but when no one seemed interested, instead of moving on to a different group of people, he just chose to kidnap a group of kids and force them. He has this intense longing for a normal life but no way to reasonably go out and get it for himself, so instead he tries to bring that life to him instead. Maybe if there were other people his age around, it could be possible for him to experience even a taste of the camaraderie he’s seen the students on tours have towards one another. Of course a bunch of kidnapped kids might not want anything to do with him, but Hunter is probably desperate enough to where he didn’t really think it through that much. Either way, even if he can’t have that life for himself, maybe he’d feel less alone if he knew there were other kids experiencing the same struggles he was. Maybe he wouldn’t feel out of place if he wasn’t the only kid being forced to train for regular battles and missions. Maybe he wouldn’t feel as bad about not having the kind of parent-child relationships he sees in the streets if there were other kids around who never got to see their parents anyway. He wouldn’t be the only kid lost in a sea of adults at the castle who refused to respect him partly due to his age.

Of course we know it wouldn’t end up being the catharsis he’s seeking, but he’s willing to try. He’s spent over a decade in a life he wasn’t sure he wanted, constantly yearning for something more with other people always (though unwittingly) waving around their happy, normal lives in front of his face. He’s sad, he’s alone, he probably feels super guilty about it because he still wants to be what Belos wants and can’t… He’s probably spent his whole life in a constant internal struggle trying to either ignore his own desires or attempt to find a balance between his personal wants and his job that never truly existed.

[mariacallous]

The US Department of Justice has sued Ticketmaster and its parent company, Live Nation Entertainment, for abusing their alleged monopoly in the ticketing market to trample competitors.

Filed on Thursday in the Southern District of New York, the lawsuit focuses on Ticketmaster’s long-term exclusivity contracts with many of the largest music venues, making it the predominant ticketing service available to concertgoers. The firm secures these deals in part by “threatening and retaliating against venues that work with rivals,” the DOJ alleges.

In the complaint, the DOJ accuses Ticketmaster and Live Nation, which acts as a promoter for hundreds of high-profile artists, of exploiting their relationship to establish a “self-reinforcing flywheel” that blocks competitors from gaining a foothold. Live Nation parlays its exclusive promotion deals into exclusive ticketing deals with venues, the DOJ claims, which are left with no practical choice but to go with Ticketmaster, for fear of losing access to sought-after acts represented by its parent company. The DOJ is seeking to break up the joint organization.

“We allege that Live Nation relies on unlawful, anticompetitive conduct to exercise its monopolistic control over the live events industry in the United States at the cost of fans, artists, smaller promoters, and venue operators,” says attorney general Merrick Garland in a statement. “The result is that fans pay more in fees, artists have fewer opportunities to play concerts, smaller promoters get squeezed out, and venues have fewer real choices for ticketing services. It is time to break up Live Nation–Ticketmaster.”

In a lengthy statement provided to WIRED, Live Nation disputes the DOJ's allegation that it and Ticketmaster wield monopoly power. “The DOJ's lawsuit won't solve the issues fans care about relating to ticket prices, service fees, and access to in-demand shows,” the company says. “Calling Ticketmaster a monopoly may be a PR win for the DOJ in the short term, but it will lose in court because it ignores the basic economics of live entertainment, such as the fact that the bulk of service fees go to venues, and that competition has steadily eroded Ticketmaster’s market share and profit margin.”

The charges brought by the DOJ mirror allegations made previously against Ticketmaster in two ongoing private lawsuits.

In December 2022, Ticketmaster was sued by hundreds of Taylor Swift fans, who brought a case in response to a high-profile ticketing debacle that reportedly left them queuing for hours to pay for tickets that they had been assigned under an early access program, with many ultimately unable to claim their allocations. The incident led to a hearing by the Senate Judiciary Committee on consolidation in the ticketing industry and, reportedly, helped catalyze the investigation into Ticketmaster by the DOJ.

In their lawsuit, the Swift fans accused Ticketmaster of abusing its dominant position to impose “higher prices in the presale, sale, and resale market for concert tickets.” The company has “effectuated this anticompetitive scheme by forcing fans of musicians to use Ticketmaster exclusively to buy concert tickets,” the lawsuit alleged.

In the second case, a class action brought in 2022 on behalf of Ticketmaster customers in the US, Live Nation and Ticketmaster were accused of abusing the complementary relationship between their services to overcharge consumers and sustain their monopoly. “Live Nation controls the vast majority of the big national touring acts and, either explicitly or implicitly, coerces concert venues into selecting Ticketmaster as their ticketing service provider on pain of losing high-value acts,” claims Adam Wolfson, a partner at Quinn Emanuel, the law firm representing the plaintiffs.

This type of conduct, known as tying, was explicitly forbidden under the consent decree imposed upon Live Nation and Ticketmaster by the DOJ as a condition of their 2010 merger. “Our allegation is that they did it anyway,” says Wolfson. “Ticketmaster’s behavior is an open secret—everyone talks about it.”

In a corporate blog post published in March, Dan Wall, executive vice president of corporate and regulatory affairs at Live Nation, rejected allegations that Ticketmaster is driving up the price of tickets. The face value of a ticket is decided by the artist, he wrote, while the service charge—from which Ticketmaster draws its cut—is set by the venue.

In a call with reporters, a senior DOJ official described this line of defense as a “red herring” in the context of the alleged antitrust violations. “Our position is that removing the chokehold that Live Nation has at all levels of the ecosystem will be beneficial with respect to the way prices are set.”

A problem common to antitrust disputes, says Bradley Justus, an antitrust attorney at law firm Axinn, is the difficulty in distinguishing easily between practices that amount to anticompetitive behavior and those that might be considered sensible business strategy. The DOJ will argue that the exclusive deals entered into by Ticketmaster are categorically anticompetitive. “The antitrust question is: How extensive is the scope of those agreements? Are they truly so broad that another competitor couldn’t enter and scale?” says Justus.

The DOJ claims that the terms of the contracts mean that “venues cannot consider or choose rival ticketers or switch to better or more cost-effective ticketing technology.” The effect, it claims, is both to stifle competitors and minimize the pressure for Ticketmaster to improve its own product, to the detriment of concertgoers.

Although the DOJ has petitioned for Live Nation to be broken up, it has not outlined the specific structural changes it will go after, nor any injunctions it may try to impose with respect to the company’s exclusive contracts. “A breakup is absolutely on the table, but it’s important not to put the cart before the horse. In antitrust cases, any remedy has to be specifically tailored to the violation found,” a senior DOJ official told the press. “Based on the allegation that Live Nation and Ticketmaster have exerted control at every level of the ecosystem, aspects of the company need to be broken apart in order for competition to flourish in the live music industry.”

[blackmosscupcakes]

While I'm on the subject of Bells Hells' reactions to the events of last episode, I'm extremely interested in what's going to happen with Ashton. After all, only DAYS ago in-game, Ashton had their own mishap that resulted in the whole party being furious with them to varying degrees. And C3E78, their apology tour for that event, came with plenty of statements and promises on their part that have an awful lot of relevance to current events.

Ashton has always shown a high degree of awareness that this is a group teetering on the edge of darkness at any given time. His apologies in episode 78 tend to be loaded with assurances that he will forgive the others when it's their turn to make mistakes just as he hopes they will forgive him. Here's what he said to Chetney:

TALIESIN: Well, I'm glad you stopped. And I don't know, I'm processing a lot right now, but if I do stay, if you let me stay, the day something happens and it goes bad for you and you hurt a lot of people because, for any reason somebody gets in your head, something bad happens, something pushes you over the edge, something just fucking stupid. Stay or go, I promise that I will stick around, help clean it up. You will get no shit from me. None.

And here's what they said specifically to Laudna when she confronted them:

TALIESIN: I will, no matter what we do, no matter what mistakes we make, no matter what we have, I will stay and I will be there and I will not-- I will not walk away. I don't know what love is, but I'm going with this.

And they seem to be sticking to that promise! At the end of last episode they were very strongly by her side. He clearly sees (understandably, given his past) the act of sticking with someone no matter what to be one of the highest expressions of love. But sticking by someone doesn't mean signing off on all of their behaviour unchallenged, either. I also think it's relevant to look at what was in his mind when Imogen tried to read it:

TALIESIN: I think I've seen a pattern in my life and I've-- I'm going to just describe it instead of-- Just the realization of hubris and temptation and blame and this sudden realization of this epiphany of violent levels of projecting responsibility. Just this very wide thought of so many moments in life of not being responsible for what happened and suddenly going through that one by one of just, it took one week of vaguely knowing where I came from, and the only thing I really knew about these people was that they fucked up in this very particular way and it took me one week to do the exact fucking same thing. Because I was so desperate to have it and so desperate to have something that I lost so that I could be mad at someone for taking it.

They immediately took a step back and saw their responsibility for the way in which they hurt their friends, and so they expressed regret and apologies for that. He also saw how his actions were a way of reflecting his hurt back out into the world in the same way he was hurt. His father failed him, and his pain and trauma led him down the path of making a very similar mistake. I suspect all of this was on his mind in that moment where he took Laudna by the shoulder and whispered to her that she should start with an apology. They were hoping she would respond to it with that same introspection, but unfortunately a few things--not the least of which being Delilah--are in the way of that.

The question is what does he do next? He made a promise to walk beside, but (as I said above) that isn't necessarily a promise to unilaterally co-sign all of someone's actions, and I'd like to see a step forward in which Ashton uses their experience with the shard and what happened after to perhaps try and further encourage Laudna to make amends and communicate and come into the fold of the group instead of isolating herself. But I wonder if perhaps they do not feel that they have the right to say anything negative to her at all only days after the shard incident. But how does one reconcile that with a group member who risks becoming genuinely dangerous to your other loved ones if she continues down the path she's on?

[mangowillow]

last to know | ch. 2: as always, even now

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst, hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: mentions of weight loss and a hospital, jeongguk has a panic attack (semi-detailed), problematic parent-child dynamics. let me know if i miss anything and please be kind!

word count: 5.3k

author's note: *peeks into the void* why hello there! let's pretend i didn't disappear off the face of the earth. earlier this year i went to see The Rose live for their dawn to dusk tour and it was so much fun! there's just a lot of things that have happened and continue to do so; please accept my sincerest apologies for being inconsistent! BUT. know that i haven't forgotten about this story. heh.

also a few more things: ♡ to put things into perspective: jeongguk, OC/reader, and woosung are all the same age; that also means they're as old as seokjin and yoongi in this fic. all the other members maintain their age. honorifics may or may not appear at times. if that bothers you, well, can't please everybody! ♡ this fic isn't beta'd nor proofread by anyone. we go rogue, always.

tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!

fic masterlist

Woosung plants a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek and giggles.

Looking at him, you ask, “What was that for?”

“Do I need a reason?” Woosung teases as he chews on his jjajangmyeon. You chuckle at his candidness and reach out to wipe the sauce that landed on the corner of his lip. The both of you resorted to sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes, using one of them as a makeshift table to place the food.

“I’m really happy you got to come today,” you muse, enjoying Woosung’s calming presence as he delicately places a piece of chicken karaage on your noodle bowl before setting his own down. You haven’t seen him for a few days because he needed to get some new music done in preparation for his application to a recording agency as a performer and a producer. You were more than happy to support him in any way you could, including giving him his space to figure things out. It was also who Woosung was— a quiet soul who liked working in solitude. 

You and Woosung are so much alike.

“Why? Did you think I’d forget?” Woosung teases, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“No, I just thought… maybe you needed more time to prepare for your application. That’s important.”

Woosung gently shakes his head, ready to disagree— “Nothing will ever be as important to me as you.”

A slight pink dusted your cheeks. You didn’t expect him to be this cheesy so early in the morning so you smile and cast your eyes back down to your meal. 

“... I do have news for you, babe.” Woosung starts. He turns his body to face you. Giving your hundred percent attention, you cut the noodles with your teeth and place the bowl down. Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you hum at his statement, “What is it?”

Woosung smiles and looks at you lovingly. You feel a bit self-conscious every time he stares at you so intensely and like clockwork, you feel your cheeks heat up. 

“I got the job, sweetheart.”

Hearing the news leave his lips leaves you surprised— your hands fly to your mouth and your eyes start to water. “R-really?” Woosung nods and chuckles through his own teary eyes, you throw yourself at him to give him a tight hug. “Woosung, oh my god— this is— “ you hold him by the shoulders, explore every inch of his face, elation in both of your hearts— “this is great, oh gosh I am so happy for you,” you hug him again. 

You feel Woosung’s body relax instantly in your hold; it has been a journey, walking with Woosung through his own painful moments struggling with his art and passion. Two years ago, he came to Seoul desperately needing a break from life and music after many unsuccessful attempts to make it into the music industry back home in the United States. Although he and his bandmates have put out several songs in the past, they never really gained as much traction with an audience as they had hoped. Going back home to his roots in South Korea also meant leaving his bandmates behind— they have been nothing but supportive of him and his time as they also needed to re-assess their own lives and figure out what they truly wanted. 

Two years ago, Woosung also met you. Both your lives changed ever since.

“Thank you for all your support, ____… you know I wouldn’t have been able to get through all this if it weren’t for you.” Woosung whispers, tightening his hold on your waist. You feel this, you feel everything when it comes to him— so you wrap your arms tighter around him, too. “This is all you, babe. This is all your hard work.”

You both stay that way for a while. Unspoken words are left hanging, as well. You both know well what might become of all this as you always try to communicate. You believe it is what has sustained your relationship for so long. 

Both of you know that Woosung will always belong to music— it’s his dream and the reason why he took so many risks along the way. It was only a matter of when. The possibilities have always been there— should there be a moment where Woosung would return to his career, to his band, to becoming a global star. The fears that come along with those possibilities were also ever-present: what you and Woosung’s future would look like. 

All of these thoughts come rushing to the both of you, but neither of you said anything.

For now, the both of you are happy. And that is enough.

When you parted from each other, you pushed away some of the hair that fell over Woosung’s eyes. “When do you start?”

Woosung takes a deep breath, “As soon as the higher-ups get settled in. I’ve been told they’ve recently landed in Seoul so it shouldn’t be too long now. I’ll be meeting with the owners and one of them is the lead producer. I heard he was a genius, but also a bit scary. They’ve also given me a signing bonus and a potential collaboration with him… that was new… he said they liked my work so much…”

“Wow, that… that sounds so exciting, baby. How are you feeling about all of this?”

“I’m nervous, for the most part,” Woosung murmurs, readjusting the collar of his shirt. It’s been a while since I talked to someone else about music professionally and… this company— I’ve heard so many wonderful things about it. For one, it was built by musicians, too. So I’m hoping they’re not just doing all of it for the business.” 

You smile warmly at Woosung and hold his hands. “You’re going to do great, you know that, right?”

Woosung draws in a breath and nods before meeting your eyes. 

That night, Woosung couldn’t sleep. He watches over you as you dream and when a strand of your hair falls on your face after moving a bit, he tucks it behind your ear. His fingers lightly dance while grazing the side of your face. Woosung sighs as a feeling of anxiety starts to creep into his heart. He loves change, but he cannot help but feel somewhat scared about it anyway. He gets so lost in his thoughts about you that he doesn’t notice you wake up.

“Baby, hey… you’re still awake.”

Your voice brings Woosung back to the present. Seeing your sleepy eyes under the sliver of moonlight that passes through your window makes his heart do a mini somersault— it always does.

“Hmm… I couldn’t sleep,” Woosung says. You scoot closer to him, his arm going under your shoulders to support your body in an embrace. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” you whisper, eyes closed, inhaling his scent— him. 

“Just… things. I’m not sure how to articulate them yet…”

You hum, “Then I’ll just stay like this with you to keep you warm… warmth helps you sleep, right?”

Woosung nods, bringing your body closer to his. “Hm… especially your warmth.” Seconds later, he feels you breathe deeper, letting him know that you’re about to let yourself succumb to sleep once more. “I love you.”

When no response came from you, Woosung closed his eyes. Then suddenly, in the stillness of the night, he feels your hand squeeze his ever so lightly.

“I love you, too.”

“Hyung, I think that’s the salt—” Jimin starts.

Seokjin snorts, stopping with the shaker in his hand mid-air, “What do you mean, Jimin-ah, I think I know the difference between salt and sugar.” He was about to potentially put salt on the croffle in front of him, leaving Jimin feeling both very nervous and distressed.

“Last time, I remember you put the sugar in a different container because a customer accidentally broke the original shaker. The color of the cap was blue, not red. This—” he pointed at the shaker Seokjin was holding, “— is obviously not blue.”

“Yah, that happened last week, but I already switched them out two days ago—” Seokjin tries to argue.

They didn’t notice Woosung enter the cafe until he spoke, “Why don’t you just taste it?”

“Oh hey, Woosung-hyung,” Jimin greets.

“Hey, Jimin. Good to see you,” Woosung replies as Jimin nods, his eyes turning into crescents as soon as he smiles.

Seokjin scoffs once more before greeting Woosung, but he relents and tastes whatever is inside the shaker. When he makes a funny face, Jimin and Woosung chuckle.

“Told ya, hyung. Tell us I saved your life.”

“I can’t believe this is salt, I knew I already switched it out—”

With possible disaster averted, Jimin doesn’t listen to Seokjin’s monologue anymore, “You’re here early today, hyung. Would you like to order the usual?”

“Actually, I am here to buy a mango parfait… ____’s fridge is crazy cold and the frozen mangoes are, well, too frozen. I might actually break the blender. I also forgot to make her usual overnight oats. We had to move a lot of things very quickly yesterday so she could have a bed to sleep on.”

“I got you, hyung. We just finished making a fresh batch of parfaits. Do you want one, too?” Jimin asks.

“Are there other flavors?”

“Blueberry and strawberry,” Seokjin adds.

“I’ll take one blueberry, then. Thanks.” Woosung gets ready to pay, but Seokjin waves him away. “It’s on the house.”

“You always give us free stuff, Seokjin—” Woosung tries to argue, but Seokjin shakes his head immediately.

“Taking care of my sister is more than enough, Woosung-ah.”

Woosung gives Seokjin a tight smile and nods. Seokjin then asks, albeit softer, “How is she doing lately?”

“She’s doing better,” Woosung reassures. “She has been painting more recently; not just because of her job at the university, but also at home. We’re going to set up her studio today so it should be fun.”

“That’s good to hear, right hyung?” Jimin turns to Seokjin, who nods. Jimin hands Woosung a paper bag with the parfaits. “I put some new desserts we’re experimenting with. Please give them a try.”

Woosung peeks at the paper bag and sees croissants and greenish muffins, presumably matcha-flavored. “Oh wow, thank you Jimin… I won’t take up too much of your time, guys. ____ is still sleeping and I need to clean up the mango disaster I left on her kitchen counter before she wakes up.”

Seokjin chuckles, “You really came all the way here for parfaits when you could have bought these anywhere near ____’s apartment.”

“Ah, but nothing beats your parfaits, Seokjin. A wise man once told me that,” Woosung smiles. He and Seokjin instantly formed a bond the moment they met two years ago, much to your relief. You’ve always been nervous to tell your brother anything remotely new about your love life— and you understand where he is coming from.

“Well whoever that wise man is must be pretty smart,” Seokjin replies. His eyes soften right afterward. “Go. Let’s have a drink sometime, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” Woosung waves goodbye to Seokjin and Jimin.

Jeongguk walks the hallway of the recording studio, still groggy from sleep. Hands in his pockets, he stood outside Yoongi’s door, staring at his peculiar mat: a cat with its middle finger raised, the words ‘fuck off’ glaring at him. Figures, he thought. A doormat won’t stop him from ringing Yoongi’s doorbell, though.

“Who is it?” he hears Yoongi call out.

“It’s your favorite person in the whole wide world,” Jeongguk says, sarcasm lacing his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose; a habit he developed in college whenever he felt the exhaustion seep out of him. He hears scuffling from the other side of the door until the sound of the door’s automatic lock rings. Jeongguk sees Yoongi clad in a plaid shirt, ripped jeans, and a gray beanie— his signature style. 

“Dumbass,” Yoongi mutters under his breath before turning his back to return to his equipment. “Good morning to you too,” Jeongguk teases as he closes the door behind him. 

“How are you already set up? It’s barely a day since we arrived!”

Yoongi chooses not to respond. 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Jeongguk asks in disbelief. “Please tell me you at least went home to get your shit sorted? Or maybe sleep like normal human beings do?”

“I did… for a brief moment, maybe?” Yoongi starts.

Jeongguk shakes his head, “You have to stop spreading yourself thin, Yoongi. It’ll be the death of you.”

Yoongi fiddles with a few knobs on the synthesizer before muttering, “That doesn’t seem so bad— spreading myself too thin, that is.”

Jeongguk throws his hands up in surrender and rolls his eyes.

“Have I succeeded in frustrating you to hell and back, yet?” Yoongi smirks while continuing to flit his eyes through the numerous screens in front of him.

Jeongguk was about to say something but then the door alarm clicked. Kim Namjoon’s head peeks out from behind the door.

“I came to say my welcome remarks,” Namjoon says as he lets himself in. Jeongguk’s mouth falls open because he couldn’t believe Namjoon could just easily waltz in without any resistance. What’s even more astounding was that he knew Yoongi’s passcode— while he, on the other hand, had to ring the fucking doorbell.

“Oh, great. So your boyfriend knows your passcode and I don’t?” Jeongguk asks.

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Yoongi states, matter-of-factly. Jeongguk couldn’t help but glance at Namjoon’s way, who seemed unfazed.

“Right, and I’m Neil Armstrong,” Jeongguk plops down on the couch.

“You’re the CEO, Jeongguk, of course, you should know the passcode… right, Yoongi?” says Namjoon, ever the oblivious one. 

Yoongi continues to do work on his computer, his fingers deftly flying across his keyboard, “Don’t encourage him, Namjoon.”

Namjoon looks back at Jeongguk who has now taken an interest in the plant beside the couch. When they met each other’s eyes, Namjoon just shrugged, his dimples showing. 

“How was your flight, you guys? I hope everything was easy peasy.”

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” Jeongguk responds. “Not sure about Yoongi here though. He looked like he was about to puke.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi retaliates.

“I can’t imagine the both of you tolerating each other while in another country. It’s a miracle this production company is still standing upright,” Namjoon says chuckling. 

Namjoon met Jeongguk first in university while they studied in New York. Although Jeongguk was a business student and Namjoon double majored in music theory and composition, they ran into each other at a frat party-— with Jeongguk being drunk off his ass. He was about to fall into the pool full of piss (which the other frat members thought was funny) when Namjoon saved him in the nick of time. 

Apart from Yoongi, Namjoon also served as Jeongguk’s confidant, especially after things went south between you and Jeongguk. When the dust settled and Jeongguk was sober enough to realize the gravity of his mistakes, Namjoon helped Yoongi pick up the pieces of Jeongguk’s brokenness. As with time passing by, Namjoon and Yoongi started to develop into something more, too. Much to Jeongguk’s delight and envy.

However, neither Yoongi nor Namjoon has admitted their feelings to the other. And truth be told, Jeongguk is sick of them dancing around each other.

But he also knows it’s none of his business.

“Hey, Jeongguk, is that family dinner of yours still happening tonight?” Yoongi decides to ask. Also probably to change the subject.

Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh. “Yes, it is.”

“Ouch. Will you be alright?” Namjoon asks out of genuine concern.

“I don’t really have a choice.”

“You always have a choice, Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi inserts. “You just need to work on making the right ones.”

Jeongguk slacks his jaw and runs his tongue across his lip ring. He doesn’t really have an answer to that.

Because once again, Yoongi was right. Not just about the damn family dinner; Jeongguk also knows his best friend’s words run deeper and imply a whole lot more than just feeling forced to sit down with his parents over steak and champagne.

“See you on the other side, then,” Namjoon says as he pats Jeongguk on the shoulder before leaving the room.

Jeongguk mulled over bringing flowers to the family dinner but decided against it.

He knows that the house would be filled with them, anyway. And his efforts won’t matter, either.

As he got out of his car, a chauffeur was already by his side ready to take his keys for him. When the car drove off, Jeongguk took a moment to look at the house he hadn’t lived in for years. It feels odd to come home; it feels even odder to feel numb about all of it.

It took Jeongguk a few seconds to ring the doorbell; for god’s sake, it was his house too, he thought. Ringing the doorbell meant he was a stranger— which he felt was appropriate.

He was greeted by a new housekeeper. He gave her a nod before stepping inside. Almost instantly, his mother appeared at the top of the staircase. They look at one another for a moment, before his mother breaks the silence.

“You finally decide to show yourself.”

Jeongguk doesn’t move. Doesn’t respond, either. He was prepared for a stare-off match with his mother, but that was until his father showed up from the kitchen. With a dish towel in hand, Jeongguk’s father smiled at him as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“It’s so good to see you, son.”

Jeongguk, once more, doesn’t have it in him to respond.

At the dinner table, the silence was so loud, that Jeongguk thought it could break glass.

“Did you settle in fine, Jeongguk?” his father asks.

“Yes, father, I did.”

“You should have chosen a place that was nearer to us, Jeongguk,” his mother chides.

“Honey…” Jeongguk’s father tries to put out a fire that is about to ignite. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was so tired from the flight and emotionally, that he felt a need to retaliate.

Because why not? Whether he speaks up or not wasn’t really up to him. Between him and his mother, he has nothing to lose.

“I don’t know, mother, I chose that place because I wanted to get away from here as much as possible.” Jeongguk remarks. He knows he hit a nerve because his mother downed her champagne rather than respond.

“How is the company going, son? Everything doing alright?” his father asks, trying to mitigate a conflict that neither of them could recover from.

“I guess. Yoongi and I haven’t managed to burn anything so that’s nice,” Jeongguk eats a spoonful of mashed potato. He knows he really needs to shut up and regulate his emotions, but he just can’t help but be sarcastic.

Once more, the silence won. However, Jeongguk’s mother is the type to not back down.

“You should think about getting married soon, Jeongguk—” she starts. Jeongguk feels himself grow cold as if on instinct. 

“—and this time, we want you to marry someone your level,” she finishes. Jeongguk felt his heart twisting so painfully that he didn’t notice how tight he held on to his cutlery.

Jeongguk swallows the once-repressed pain that used to consume him whole. He knows this is futile because he never dares to face his regrets square in the face. Instead, he allows the pain to make him angry. He allows his resentment to consume him in ways he doesn’t know how to handle and in a pained effort to avoid causing further damage, he remains quiet. Unresponsive. Cold. Withdrawn.

But his own mother is even more cold-hearted than he is. She is the one who made him like this.

It’s her fault.

“You need to marry a good woman who can keep up with your social status. Remember you’re not just anyone, Jeongguk. You’re a Jeon. And you have a legacy to uphold,” his mother condescends. 

Tears start to sting Jeongguk’s eyes, but he doesn’t want to let his mother win. So he keeps still.

“I have a few prospects for you, dear. We should set dates for them, don’t you think so? I chose the most refined and educated—” Jeongguk hates how his mother knows how to push his buttons and hurt him.

He knows that his mother knows his ultimate weakness.

You.

And because his mother cannot contain her insecurities and prejudice, she projects it all on her son. But most especially, you— whether you were in the room or not.

Jeongguk’s mother continues her monologue. His father miserably fails to become the referee (he always does). Heat starts to rise Jeongguk’s neck and he swears he could hear his own blood pumping through his ears. What almost immediately follows is the high-pitched ringing that only he can hear. 

Jeongguk starts to feel dizzy; like he’s about to lose control.

But instead of releasing, instead of crying, instead of getting angry— he does none of them. 

He finds himself standing up, his hands dragging the plate full of food to the ground. With all his might, Jeongguk tries to breathe deeply.

“That’s enough, mom.” Jeongguk croaks. A tear escapes his eye. “Please.”

Jeongguk rarely addresses her as “mom”. But in times of vulnerability and helplessness, it’s the term he ends up using.

“As I expected… you are still weak, Jeongguk.” his mother states with absolutely no remorse.

Jeongguk feels like he is about to throw up. To save himself, he drags his legs to leave the dining area. Housekeepers try to help him, but he brushes them aside. Security guards around the house up until the gate tried to support him, but Jeongguk just waved them all off.

He just needed to get away before his vision completely blurred. He needed to get out of this godforsaken house.

It was a miracle that Jeongguk got far away from the house as he had. But in doing so, he felt physically weaker and weaker. His mind isn’t done with him yet as thoughts of you start to resurface. His chest starts to tighten again. He feels cold and afraid and tired.

Jeongguk falls to his knees on the side of the road; he allows his body to go limp and fall to the ground. 

He barely remembers what happened next.

When Jeongguk opens his eyes, bright, stale lights greet him. 

He hears beeping, faint footsteps, a voice over an intercom.

He feels something brushing his leg so gently that it takes him a while before realizing that someone is standing over him, wiping the edge of his slacks.

Jeongguk squints his eyes to get a better look at the person touching his leg. When he tries to elevate his upper body, the person in front of him feels him moving.

Jeongguk couldn’t believe who he was seeing. His panic attack must still be happening because it was impossible.

It was you.

“Oh… hi,” you start. Jeongguk is at a loss for words so he continues to stare at you.

You immediately feel self-conscious so you start to wrangle the damp cloth you were holding. 

“Are you okay? Hang on, I’ll call the nurse—”

You start to leave, but Jeongguk catches your wrist. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. You look at his hand on your wrist before Jeongguk lets go of it.

“W-what happened?”

“You’re at the hospital… um, I– I got a call from them saying you were here,” you say.

Jeongguk’s eyebrows met. He is still confused as to how or why the hospital would call you. As he looks at you, in the flesh, in front of him, the familiar ache in his chest threatens to overwhelm him again.

You look as beautiful as ever, even more so than the last time he saw you. The last time he did, you were crying to him. He did that to you. That was his fault.

“Are you hurt, anywhere, Jeongguk? I think I need to call your doctor, just give me a second—”

“No… please. I’m okay. I don’t feel any pain.” Except for my broken heart.

“Oh… okay.”

Jeongguk observes you, more particularly your hands. You still have that habit of fiddling with your fingers when you didn’t know what to do, he thinks. 

“H-how did the hospital call you? You didn’t change your number?” Jeongguk is a hundred percent sure his choice of questions was dumb, but he doesn’t have any idea as to why you’re here.

“The hospital told me I was your emergency contact… they uh– they only found your wallet on you and found this,” you explain as you handed him his wallet. Inside was an old piece of paper with your emergency contact number and e-mail address.

“The e-mail address is now defunct, but my number is still the same because I had it reactivated when I came back here…”

When I came back here, Jeongguk repeated to himself. 

Jeongguk wanted to ask you a million questions, but his throat feels dry and he is unable to speak. 

“I um, I also called Yoongi. He should be here any minute,” you continue. When Jeongguk looks at you funny, you give him a small smile— the first one you’ve given him since he woke up. “We talk sometimes.”

There is a lot of information that Jeongguk needs to process but his head hurts a lot and he makes a mental note to interrogate his friend later.

You move to grab and open the plastic bag that is on the bedside table. You pull out a pair of black socks. Jeongguk sees you hesitate a bit before speaking again.

“I got these across the street… your socks got wet from the rain.”

“Oh.” Jeongguk feels really dumb.

“May I?” you tentatively ask. “Your feet will get cold if we don’t—and you have the IV on so you won’t be able to use your hands—”

“It’s okay…” Jeongguk’s response startles you. “Thank you.”

You nod and sit by his feet to put on the new socks. Jeongguk feels the tears again but he tries to hold them back as he feels your touch and your warm fingers graze his bare, cold skin. When you’re done putting them on him, you smile to yourself.

“Does that feel better?” you ask.

Jeongguk nods and hums. He took his time to look at you and to his mild surprise, you reciprocated. A sense of stillness seemed to occur like time stopped just so Jeongguk could fully take in the sight of you.

He hurriedly tries his best to memorize all your features—old and new. Your face is smaller, your cheekbones higher; both indicative of you losing a bit of weight since he saw you last. Your eyes are softer, but also more tired. You also grew out your hair. 

To Jeongguk, you are still so beautiful.

And he missed you so much that his heart hurt again at the thought of losing you.

“How are y—” Jeongguk tries to ask, but the door to his hospital room slid open, revealing a disheveled Yoongi.

“Jeongguk, are you okay? What happened?”

Jeongguk notices you quickly moving aside to give Yoongi room. 

“I’m fine, Yoongi. I guess I just passed out and—”

“You had another panic attack, Jeongguk. That’s the second time this week. Have you taken your medication?”

Yoongi’s string of questions had Jeongguk feeling anxious. He just had the unexpected chance of seeing you again but under the most dire circumstances. Surely, it wasn’t the time for you to hear about his mental health issues.

“Yoongi, can we—” Jeongguk tried to save face, but Yoongi was faster. 

Yoongi turns to you and hugs you. “I’m sorry, ____, you must have been so confused.”

“No, not at all, I’m… I’m glad I could be of help,” you reassure. More so for Jeongguk because you know this must be very awkward for him. 

A bit of awkwardness did happen because none of you spoke for a bit. Your phone ringing was the only saving grace.

“Hello? Oh, okay. I’ll be right out,” you answer the other person on the line. Hanging up, you say, “Um… I should get going.”

“Is someone picking you up?” Yoongi asks.

“Yes, Taehyung’s just a few minutes away,” you answer.

Yoongi nods and pulls you in for another hug. He whispers his thanks and you respond by hugging him tighter.

You also approach Jeongguk a little closer. “Take care of yourself, Jeongguk.” You see the pain in his eyes, but you refuse to acknowledge it to yourself, even if Jeongguk’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears and his nose was already pink.

Jeongguk doesn’t want you to go. But again, he has no choice but to let you.

“You too, ____.”

As soon as you close the door, Jeongguk allows his tears to fall.

As soon as you get into the car, Taehyung asks his questions.

“Why the hell did you just come out of a hospital?”

“Tae—”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? You’re the only one there? What happened?” You can feel the panic rising in Taehyung as he inspects you, but you just chuckle.

“Yah—you laugh?”

“I’m fine, Taehyung,” you tell him but he doesn’t look convinced. “I really am.”

“Then why were you in there?”

“I saw Jeongguk again, Tae,” you calmly respond.

Taehyung freezes. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not,” you answer.

“And you’re… are you okay?”

“I am.”

Taehyung knows you better than that but he gives you a pass because he could also tell you were tired and your short answers mean that you didn’t want to talk just yet.

“Do you want to talk about it over ice cream and fries?”

For a second, you felt tempted, but you just also wanted to go home. “Maybe some other time, Taehyung.”

Taehyung understands immediately and nods. “Should I take you to Woosung hyung or do I take you home?”

You do want to see Woosung because you know he is what you need, but you also don’t want to burden him with a bombshell of an event so you opt to be alone for the night. “Take me home, please.”

“Okay, ____,” Taehyung answers.

The rest of the car ride was a quiet one.

The short walk in the hallway leading to your home is a heavy one. As you punch in your passcode, you deeply sigh. You want nothing more than to collapse on the bed and ruminate on what just happened over the past few hours.

However, the moment you open the door, a wave of delicious scents welcomes you home. As you take off your shoes, you see a familiar pair. You smile to yourself as you place yours beside it. 

You enter your home further and see Woosung with his back to you, working his way in the kitchen. As if on cue, Woosung turns around and walks toward you. 

“Hey you,” you say with a smile.

“Hi,” Woosung responds, gathering you in his arms and pulling you into a tight embrace. “Did you have a good day, today?”

You feel yourself swallow once before nodding. Woosung, ever the sensitive boyfriend, holds you tighter.

You know you can’t hide from him. So you hold on to him tighter, too.

And you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Woosung feels your body shake and he runs his hand across your back to soothe you. 

He may not know what’s going on right now, but he also knows you will talk to him when you’re ready. So he continues to embrace you; kissing the side of your head after a while.

Woosung whispers against your ear, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart.”

taglist: @whoa-jo @nays2112 @junecat18 @jk97bam @butterymin @smdnai

tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!

[desswright29]

Contains: Petty Argument, Overreacting reader, Overprotective Shuri, Bratty reader, Angry Shuri/reader, Reader testing the fuck out of Shuri’s patience, apologetic reader. Smut (18+), Sub Shuri 🫦, (I was inspired lol) Reader has PTSD from her past abusive relationship. A/N: This is in the “Shame” universe. I just felt like writting. So this is a side quest as I write PTV. I hope y’all enjoy! Also this shit is not edited. Read at your own risk lmao.

“Mholo ngalentsasa, umfazi wam.” Your wife’s voice was soft, slightly raspy with sleep this morning. You sensed an aggitated apprehensiveness in her tone, even in your groggy state. Her back was to you as she sat in the lounge area of the bedroom, eating a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch while watching the news. Your vision was still blurry, eyes sensitive to the amount of sun shining into the room, as you stare at the back Shuri’s head from the bed.

“Good Morning baby, are you eating cereal? I was going to cook breakfast for us.” You stretch, becoming more aware of your surroundings, and most importantly of your body, you recognize the pounding headache at your temples and the aching in your bones.

“It is just after noon, 12:02 to be exact, and you sweet girl, are sick.” Your eyes bulge at her revelation of the time.

“Afternoon!” You shot up fast, and was  immediately hit with an overwhelming dizzyness that forced you to lay back against the headboard. You were in denial about the final part of her statement, even though your body ached from head to toe, you had the sweats, and your head was pounding. But, you were on tour and had no intention of canceling tonight’s show.

She glanced at you over her shoulder. “Take it slow, my love. You tossed and turned all night, running a fever. I had Griot check your vitals and your fever got dangerously high. I was up all night making sure you were alright. You’ve been sweating a lot so you need to hydrate.” Hesitance laced her tone as she stared ahead at the television. Your face was plastered all over the news. Fans already lined up outside of the arena waiting to see you perform. “I think that it would be best if you cancelled tonight’s show, no?” Shuri knew that her advice would not be well received, and braced herself.

“Uh no! Shuri you should’ve woke me up. I’m not canceling my show! Now I’m gonna be rushing.” You try standing only for your body to reject it. Landing right back onto the bed. Shuri’s chin dropped to her chest, pinching her nose trying not to allow her frustration to over power her rationale.

“Sthandwa, it’s been weeks. You’re over due a break. I told you this was going to happen and that you need to slow down.” Shuri spoke with her usual calm demeanor. Trying to keep you from going into a panic.

“I have!” Your voice went up an octave as you lied to no one except for yourself. Shuri threw her arm over the back of the couch, finally turning to look at you fully “No. You have not.” She rebutted. You roll your eyes sitting on the side of the bed. You notice the lounge wear you wore to bed had been changed. You were sure that was courtesy of your thoughtful wife.

“Uuuuugghhh Shuri. Please. I don’t have the energy for this.”

“Right. That is exactly my point. How do you plan to do a show in your condition ubusi?” Shuri cocked her head to the side as she waited for an answer that would make sense.

“I’ll take something for the pain and fever, go back to sleep for a couple of hours, and I’ll be ok when I wake up.” Shuri placed her half eaten bowl onto the table, getting up to walk over to the bed. She got on one knee in front of you. Grabbing one of your hands and lifting your chin with her other.

“No you won’t. Baby, your body is exhausted, it can only take so much more.  I’ve been medicating you all night. It keeps coming back. You need rest. You have to know when to take a break, or this lifestyle is going to break you.” You groan in defiance.

“I understand you mean well Shuri but I have an obligation to my fans. If I cancel tonight it’s going to complicate everything. We’ll have to refund everyone. Pay a fine to the venue…and damnit I just want to perform! It’s Madison Square Garden for Bast sake!” You whined. You leaned forward catching your head in your hands in frustration. Shuri rubbed your arm comfortingly. 

“Don’t stress yourself. I understand. I know you love what you do. You put a lot of hard work into it, and I admire that. But, Thando you’re taking your body through a lot of physical strain. Training with the Dora, learning your duties as consort, and actively on tour. It’s physically impossible for any human.” 

“You have more on your plate than I do. And you’re doing just fine!” Shuri, being true to the patient woman that you married, continued being calm during your temper tantrum.

“Bambo’lawami, while I am human, I have a bit of an advantage here. I should hardly be the determining factor for your work ethic. You need to let something go.” If Shuri only knew where her statement would take this, she would immediately swallow those words. Your head jerks back as you look down at Shuri, chuckling though very unamused.

“OOOOh, ok… I’m getting it now. Is the career I built getting in the way of my duties for Wakanda?” You raised a brow as Shuri mimicked your prior movement, her head jerking back in confusion.

“What? That has nothing to do with what I said.” 

“No. But, it has everything to do with what you implied.” You say, your words laced with spite. 

The creases in her forhead increased with each word that came from your mouth.

“Sthand-“

“Don’t fucking SthANdwa me. I already know what you’re gonna say. ‘You are being unreasonable Entle, I only want what’s best for you.’ When we both know that this your way of introducing the idea of me giving up my career, so that I can play the submissive Queens consort? Walk to the right and two steps behind you!?” Shuri sat back on her haunches, completely taken aback. She snickered.

“Are you for real? I-“ Your hand comes up, placing it directly into your wife’s face. She bit into the corner of her bottom lip. A sneer appearing on her upper, as her nostrils flared.

“I don’t want to hear shit you have to say. I’m doing this and every other show I have scheduled for MY tour. I’m not giving up who I am and what I’VE built to play small and be your little wife.” You go to mush Shuri’s face but her hand quickly grasped your wrist placing your hand gently back onto the bed. 

“Whoa. You’re loosing it Nkosazana. Dont put your hand in my face. Don’t ever disrespect me like that.” Her pointer finger came up, centered between your eyes. 

“And what are you gonna do?” You say swatting her hand away. She removed her hand before you could make contact. You place your hand back into her face and she swats it. The two of you go through this back in forth for a moment until frustration takes over and you catch Shuri off guard pushing her away from you making her land on her butt. 

“Y/n what the fuck are you doing!?” Shuri’s voice became high pitched as confusion took over her. She remained seated on the floor.

“My intent is not to start an arguement with you. You’re stressed and not feeling well. Apparently, you have some other unrelated issue with me, that we should discuss at a better time. Because, no way you’re taking my concern for your health as some sort of power play.” The statement came out as a question.

“Yup.” You say crossing your arms and rolling your neck. 

“Y/n.”

“Yuuup.” You say more aggressive. Shuri squinted her eyes a smirk turning up one of her cheeks.

“Yea?”

“Yup” You repeat.

“Childish.” You shrug staring at her waiting impatiently for whatever it was she had to say. Quietly, her eyes scan over your body. Had it been any other time, or had you felt better the look on her face would’ve folded you like origami. However, now you had an unwarranted point to prove. Just because Shuri was a sexy, domineering goddess didn’t mean you were going to drop everything for her. You built your image without her and planned to maintain it. You were a Queen in your own right before marrying Shuri, this was your shit!

“It seems as though we’re past not arguing.” You cock your head to the side with all the attitude you can muster, as Shuri stands to her feet, clenching her jaw. 

 “Llisten, Your health at the moment is what matters to me. That is all this is about.”

“Puh’ lease, you been on this shit. Does my success make you insecure Shuri?” You continued pushing your invalid point. Shuri closed her eyes.

“Bast, I’m trying to keep my composure.”

“And if you loose it?” You raise a brow continuing to challenge Shuri. She stepped forward Jaw clenched. 

“You want to act like a child, y/n? Fine, I’ll treat you like one. If you so much as think about going to that show tonight, I’m going to hunt you down and drag your little ass back into this house and chain you to the bed. Do you understand me?”

Your mouth dropped, a sudden burst of energy hit you as you lept to your feet standing on the bed in an attempt to over power Shuri. 

“Who the fuck you think you talking to?!!” Shuri snorted turning to walk away. 

“The only person confused in here is you. I guess the 103 degree fever you were running was boiling your brain cells. I’ll be happy to remind you who YOU are speaking with. We maybe consorts but I rule over you. Calm yourself.” She punctuated her sentence jabbing her finger in your direction. “You’ve gotten beside yourself. I’ll shut the fucking city down before I let you leave this house thinking it’s ok to distrespect me the way you are. The only point I’m making is that you’re running that beautiful body of yours into the ground. And it’s going to give way mama.” At this point you were relentless. 

“Ha! Oh that’s cute kitten.” Shuri shook her head chewing on the insides of her cheeks. Confused at how you even got to this point. She’d made her way back to the sitting area plopping down onto the couch. You followed. “Be serious, your intimidated because I’m not one of these thirsty bitches that need you. I’m good on my own and I could have just as much without you and your trying to ta-“ Shuri shot back to her feet. Making her way to you in a few long strides.

“I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR LITT-.” Shuri tried stopping herself before playing into this foolish argument, but it was too late. You had shook her calm front, and cut her off.

“There it is!! There the fuck it is! Show yourself!” 

“EVERYDAY! Y/n EVERY FUCKING DAY I go out of my way making sure you’re happy and ok. And you think I would wait until you were ill to push some dumb ass agenda I’ve been hiding onto you.” You stare at her unyielding in your point. Shuri stepped back chuckling, She threw her hands up in surrender.

“You know what. Fuck it. Do as you please! Fuck me for giving a shit about my wife. Go risk your LIFE to dress in a strip of fabric and clap your ass in front of an a arena full of strangers. I’m done!” You smirk.

“Proved my point.” 

“Discussion over.”

“I bet it is.”

“OVER!” Your eyes connected with Shuri’s. Though you may not have been very connected with your own limits. You knew Shuri’s. So you chose to heed her warning. You stomped around the room collecting your things while Shuri sat slumped on the couch attending to business on her Kimoyo beads. 

“I’m going to wait for the car at Bruno’s and I’ll stay with my sister after my show.”

“Do what you gotta do.” Her voice had gone down an octave, raspy and tired. Your aching body wanted so bad to go over, fall into her lap, and let her nurse you back to health. But, the stubbornness in you, the part that was afraid to rely fully on Shuri or anyone because of your checkered past relationships, pressed on. 

“Eat a dick.” You say calmly before snatching open the door, and slamming it as hard as you could behind you. 

“Tuh.” And a snicker was Shuri’s only reaction. Her nonchalance only a weak bandage for the wound you’d just caused her.

Shuri was in a bad mood. It was apparent in her stifling demeanor as she swaggered backstage. Her lack of sleep, the heated argument between the two of you, and pure worry for her wife drove her to an astute level of unapproachable. Her shades hid her frustrated eyes, but her demeanor was not to be misunderstood.

She’d tried getting some rest, tried staying away and letting you do your thing. But, even when she was pissed at you her love and protective instincts for you would always over power any anger. So, after stubbornly tossing and turning on the couch, and stomping through the house mumbling angrily to herself, after her failed attempt at sleeping. She decided to take a shower, and then she found herself getting dressed, grabbing keys, and heading in the direction of Madison Square Garden in the Royal Talon. 

You were halfway through your set, as she walked over to the wings. Your tour Manager Wayne stood watching intently, until he felt the presence of the Queen approaching. Shuri saw his shoulders visibly tense as she walked up beside him.

“Why do you look nervous Wayne? Is there a reason you would need to be cautious around me?” She never made eye contact. Just leaned  her shoulder onto a pillar, crossing her legs at the ankle, staring out onto the stage.

“N-no I-“ She cut him off, not having the patience to beat around the bush.

“Tell me, have you seen my wife today?”

“Uh, Well yes.” Shuri’s jaw tensed as she nodded, somehow the shades covering her eyes made this moment even more frightening for the man. The lights from the stage casting a red glow over her. 

“Really? Because if you had. You would know that she is in no condition to be on that stage tonight.” Her head turned slightly to the right of her where Wayne stood shifting on his feet.

“She said she’d be good by show time. E-everyone was already here I-I couldn’t cancel. I was just doing as she sa-“ 

“Isn’t apart of your job to make sure that my wife is in good health. Does it not matter if the artist is well? Or are you just worried about your check? Because, I can get you your check, and  it’ll be the last. Was this one show worth your job Wayne?” Shuri raised a brow, and a sarcastic smile spread across Shuri’s face. 

“I’m so-“ The shivering teary eyed man began. 

“Shuri!” Dani marched up standing in between the two of them. Interrupting the tense moment.

“Wayne, go gather yourself. I hear the Queen is on a little power trip because she can’t control my sister. She’ll get over it.” Shuri scoffed as Wayne rushed off. 

“I heard you were here terrorizing the staff because y/n went through with her show. Lay off it Shuri! This is a sold out show at Madison Square Garden! You’re not about to mess this night up for her.”

“Me! Mess it up! Dani have you even seen your sister up close for the past couple of weeks!? She’s fucking exhausted. She’s pushing herself entirely too hard.”

“So, she has to give up her career?!”

“WHO THE FUCK IS SAYING THAT! Demethi! You two are definietly related. She JUST NEEDS A BREEAAAAAK! From EVERYTHING! GAHDAMN!” 

“I think she knows her limitations. She’s putting on a flawless show. You can’t control-“

“I don’t -…. You know what Dani, It’s best if  nobody says shit to me tonight. I’m here to ensure my wife’s safety. Keep the rest.” Dani rolled her eyes.

“Whatever.” She said as her and Shuri stood silently watching the show. 

She watched your body move, as you sang effortlessly. The truth was, Shuri loved watching you in your element. The joy in your face, the sound of your voice. How you lost yourself becoming an entirely different being on stage. She loved even more the private shows she got after a show was over, the both of you all riled up. You, from trying to turn your wife on while onstage. Her, from you succeeding. Yea. After show sex was Shuris favorite. A smirk found it’s way to Shuri’s lips as she thought about your escapades. She didn’t want to argue. She just wanted you to be ok, and she couldn’t rest until she felt that you were. Taking something that you loved and excelled at would have never crossed Shuri’s mind, and it hurt her that you believed it would.

The show was coming to an end, and per usual it had been effortless. You did your final song. thanking your fans as the band continued to play you off stage. Shuri felt silly. Maybe she had overreacted. But, was she wrong? All she’d wanted was for you to be safe and healthy. You couldn’t be too mad at her for that. Could you?

The crowd roared as you did your signature strut off of the stage. The walk Shuri loved so much. Her eyes trailed over your body, starting at your feet, up to those thick thighs, your non existent waist, your beautiful bouncing breast, and then that gorge-. That’s when Shuri saw it,  your face was pale, washed out. There was fear in your eyes as you approached the wings as fast possible. Shuri’s face dropped as you got out of view of the crowd. She stepped forward.

“Y/n, babe.” Your eyes met her shaded ones, and you made it to your wife just in time to wrap your arms around her neck and faint. 

“Sis! Y/n!” Dani yelled, running to Shuri’s side. Jumping into action Shuri swooped the rest of your limp body up into her arms. 

“Move!” She yelled as she made her way through the crowded back stage. Chaos, ensued as everyone realized what was happening. Shuri tried making it to the Talon fighter, everything she needed to nurse you conscious was there, but suddenly she felt you stiffening in her arms. She stopped in her tracks looking down at you.

“EVERYBODY GIVE HER SOME SPACE SHES SEIZING! Someone get me something to cushion her head!” She barked orders as people ran around trying to find ways to help, or just stood staring. She gently placed you on your side as your sister took off her jacket placing it under your head, as your body began jerking. 

“It’s ok baby I’m here. I’m going to make sure you’re ok.” Medics rushed in with a gurney, directing everyone not to hover. Shuri lie on the floor above your head. Whispering words of encouragement. 

“I got you baby. Hang in there. It’ll be over soon.” Once you stopped seizing, They moved into action. Hurrying to get you onto the gurney before you went into another seizure. 

“Take her to the roof. I’m taking her home. We have whatever medical assistance she needs.” Shuri ordered as her and your sister ran beside the gurney. The Dora and your team followed close behind. 

Once safely on the aircraft Shuri had you placed you in a bed. Her first goal to hydrate you. She’d noticed weeks ago that in your attempt to juggle everything you weren’t eating enough, or staying hydrated. Your body had been running on fumes. Not getting nearly enough of anything it needed. Food, water, or sleep. Not to mention all of the sweating you did in your sleep last night. She’d spoken on it several times, and she continuously went ignored. Now your body had finally caved. She worked on you silently. Cutting off the restricting clothes. Giving you fluids through an IV and placing a cooling pad over your body. A tear fell from her eye and she quickly wiped it away. She’d never forgive herself for not being more insistent on you canceling if something happened to you. 

“Griot. Does she show any signs of injury?”

“Assessing damage Panther.” She waited patiently as Griot scanned your body. “Ikumkani wam shows no signs of injury.”

“Thank Bast.” Shuri breathed a sigh of relief. 

You began to stir and Shuri stood to her feet walking over to your side. She held your hand as you opened your eyes. 

“Hey there, pretty girl.” She says leaning in, gently caressing the side of your face. 

“W-what happened?”

“You fainted, and had a seizure.” Your eyes widened before you averted your eyes. 

“I’m not here for I told you so baby. I’m just happy you’re ok.”

A soft knock at the door interrupted the moment. 

“Did I hear her talking?” Your sister walked in with Wayne trailing behind. “Girl thank God you’re up. You scared the shit out of me!” Your sister came over kissing your forehead.

“Yes we’re all happy to see you up. You gave us all quite a scare.” Wayne said. Your team stood outside of the door not wanting to overwhelm you. Shuri spoke up. 

“I’m glad you all are here. I think this is a perfect time for me to voice how I don’t appreciate the complete disregard for my wife’s health. If it was my say all of you would be fired.”

“Shuri.” You say about to chastise her when she threw a look over her shoulder that let you know now was not the time.

“I’m being as nice as I have the patience to be right now….It’s been a long day. You all will postpone the tour for two weeks.” You gasp.

“Shuri that’s excessive! I alrea-” Shuri turned all the way around looking down at you from her seated position. 

“I’m sorry sthandwa..Did that sound like a request? I should’ve went with my first mind and shut it down last night. However, this is your thing. So I deemed it necessary to run it by you first. But, since you don’t seem to know your limits I’ll be taking things into my own hands until you prove to me you can. And it’s not up for discussion.” She spoke firm staring directly into your eyes, and there was no room for argument. She directed her attention back to your team. 

“Call the venues, get a price point on the fines and the date changes. Let me know. I’ll take care of it. Staff will also be compensated. Just get it done. All business is to go through me and me only for the next two weeks. Got it.” Everyone acknowledged her with a firm yes and she dismissed everyone to allow you to rest. With the exception of Dani, who decided to stay with the two of you to help out.

Shuri pulled up a document on her Kimoyo beads and began typing.

“What are you doing?” You ask

“Requesting that M’Baku take my place for the next two weeks. So I don’t overwhelm myself.”

She side eyed you and you looked away. She turned around to you grabbing your chin, turning your head back toward her. 

“Ubusi, when I met you…It’s like….like I grew another limb. You became apart of me. Apart of my body, and If you’re not ok neither am I. I need you to take care of my body baby. There is no strength without rest.” You bite into your lip. Your wife always had a beautiful way with words. 

“I understand. I’m sorry about earlier I-“

“Let’s not talk about that now. You need to get some rest. I’m not dismissing it. Just saving it for another time. Ok?” You nod and she softly kissed your lips.

For the next week you watched your wife take care of your business. You noticed how much attention to detail she had to have been paying to the way you ran things, before you got sick. She didn’t miss a beat. She made sure you ate, hydrated, and rested. Took meetings with venues and made sure your staff was paid, suggesting that they rest as well. You also noticed, that with all the care and love she was giving you, she was still a bit stand off-ish. 

“Baby what’s wrong?” You’d find yourself asking constantly. She’d always rebut with, “Nothing my love, just a lot on my plate.” However, you knew better.

Her kisses were light and didn’t linger, she’d bring your meals, but, wouldn’t snuggle up, and eat them with you. And when you two went to bed she’d kiss your forehead and turn over away from you. You hated it! 

The two of you still hadn’t talked about the argument. The more you thought about it, the more guilty you felt for overreacting. You’d gone entirely too far. You knew that you had really hurt her with some of your harsh opinions about how she felt about you and your career. Regret was as simple as you could put it, as you watched her handle the the career you built with all the love, just as you would. You had been wrong, and hurtful. And It was your turn to apologize.

Shuri pulled into the driveway. Taking a deep breath as she turned off the car. To be honest, home had been hard for her lately. She struggled with when to bring up the fact that you had hurt her. How did this part of your relationship go? Was she even allowed to be hurt? The two of you had never made it to this point. Shuri had always been the one ruining everything, and apologizing profusely. But, she’d fixed it. She was putting her best foot forward in this marriage. Being the best wife she knew how to be. She thought you’d known that. What was she doing wrong where you didn’t see?

She had been sitting in the car for 15 minutes. Meetings with your team, updates with the council, and checking in on her lab filled her day and she was ready to get some rest. Finally she decided to get out. Her energy was heavy as she walked to the front door placing her key in the lock. Stepping inside of her home she was immediately met with red and gold rose petals. Large glass vases filled with long stem roses, and candles led a path to a table beautifully set for two. You sat on the table, legs crossed in your sheer black floor length dress, breast on display with an edible arrangement settled on your lap, with the words sorry carved out in pineapple. A huge teddy bear that read “I love you” sat in the corner and balloons with apologies written all over them,  littered every corner of the room. But over top of your head were huge balloons that individually spelled. IM SORRY. In case she wasn’t getting the message.

Shuri was stuck, speechless at the door. The last time you’d done something this beautiful for her was when you proposed. The thought brought tears to her eyes, as she took it all in.

“I know grand gestures and elaborate apologies are usually your thing. But, I thought I’d take a jab at it this time.” Shuri chuckled as a tear fell down her cheek. You looked at your beautiful wife. Today she was apparently feeling her femininity. A jean dress that hugged her silhouette so perfectly graced her beautiful body. Her braids were adorned with golden string, and her makeup was perfection. You couldn’t help but think that you were a lucky women. 

“You look beautiful, Sweet Lady.” She look down slightly and you could tell she was trying to hide her blush. It brought a smile to your face.

“I promise I didn’t over exert myself. Dani helped with dinner, and I had a few other hands with helping me get all of this set up, before I kicked everyone out.” You stood from the table placing the edible arrangement onto it. You reach out your hand to her. “Come here.” Shuri made her way to you, heels clicking against the marble floors. When she was close enough you grabbed her hands.

“Baby I’m sorry. For a lot of things. But, first of all for putting my hands on you. I was delirious. I am fully aware we don’t operate that way. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, and that I made things more difficult than they had to be. And most importantly, I’m sorry for the things I said. I know I have a habit of putting my guard back up in certain areas of my life out of protection for myself. I recognize I don’t have to do that with you. I recognize how ungrateful and entitle I’ve been. Overlooking your effort. I do see you. And I’m very appreciative of the work you put in for us.” Shuri sniffles looking down at her feet. You lift her chin slightly so that her eyes can meet your own again. She bit into her lip, her low eyes connecting with yours. 

“I can see that I hurt you, and I hate it. I wish I could take everything I said back because I didn’t mean it in the slightest. Those weren’t words meant for you, and who you’ve shown yourself to be to me. I let the past infiltrate what we have now, and for that I truly apologize Shuri. So, if you give me the chance, I can be better at showing you how much I appreciate you. I know you know I love you. I’ll forever be in love with you. I don’t want to mess us up either. Your love is wonderful, and I don’t want to loose you.”

Shuri had tears streaming down both of her cheeks now. You use the pad of your thumb to wipe away the tears. Finally, the two of you step into eachothers arms. “I love you sthandwa, I’m giving this all I got.” She finally says. The softness in her tone almost broke you.

“I know baby. And you’re perfect.” you say wrapping your arms around her neck as she buries her face into yours. She picks her head up, placing her forhead to yours staring into your eyes.

“I miss you.” She says. You nod. Knowing exactly what she means. 

“I miss you too. Can I kiss you?” You ask. She nods.

You close the distance and give your wife a long lingering kiss for the first time in days. Your lips slide against eachothers longingly. Passionately. This woman would forever be your heart. Your everything.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper against her lips.

“I forgive you, baby.” She responds.

“I need to touch you Shuri. Can I touch you please mama?” Another request came from you against her lips. She moaned her reply into your mouth. One of your arms slipped from around her neck. Gliding down her clothed chest to her abs, to the hem of her form fitting dress. You hike up her dress, your fingers brushing against her silk lined clit, her body shivered against your touch as she stepped further into you. Her mouth gapped open at the sensation, as you rubbed up and down against her. 

“It feels like you need me to touch you. But, you won’t tell me what you need beautiful.” Shuri’s knees buckled a bit as she backed you against the table. 

“Uh uh, calm down panther. I want to take care of you. Tell me you need me.”  She panted against your mouth as you stroke her bud. “Uhn. I-I need y-you please baby.” You smirk against her lips. “Good girl.” 

Shuri moaned, as the two of you switch positions Shuri now pressed into the table.

Your kissing became more intense. Pressing her up against the table, she lifts your dress as you firmly plant your thigh between her muscular legs. Shuri whimpers quietly, grabbing the back of your head and kissing you voraciously. Your bodies heave together, squirming, and writhing. Your thighs intertwined as you hungrily rub her vulva over her panties.

 She pulls you as close to her as possible, her nails unconsciously digging into your back. You pull away from her mouth, and begin kissing her neck. Sighing as she tugs on your hair. 

“I need you Shuri.” You say as you find the zipper at the back of her dress. Slowly unzipping her dress, pulling it down her shoulders. “I need you in my life. To be loved by you. To touch you. To taste you. I love you so much.”

Your hand finds her breast under a sheer, silky bra. You feel her nipple poking through the soft fabric, and take it between your two fingers, massaging it slowly.

“Fuck y/n.” She whispers, her hips continued to rotate on your thigh, her head thrown back eyes closed in concentration.

Wanting to feel her skin, you unhook her bra and let it fall off of her shoulders. Taking her small perky breast in your hand, you caress it softly, tracing circles around her nipple. Giving each one equal attention. 

“You’re so perfect. Beautiful and perfect. All of you.”

You take a nipple into your mouth and suck lightly, encircling, and kissing each one. Shuri begans frantically moaning  trying to rub her self against you harder. You lightly run your fingers up and down her bare back. 

“Tell me what you need pretty girl.” You whisper in her ear. “Tell me what I gotta do?” Shuri whimpers.

“Bast, I love it when you talk to me like that.”

“Mmm Daddy Panther wants to be my pretty girl tonight?” Shuri grabs the front of your dress. As her hips continue to grind against you. 

“Ewe! Let me be your good girl.” Your core throbs at the pretty sound of her voice. 

She sits eye level with you. You stare intently into her eyes taking her lower lip into your mouth, sucking as your hands slide gently down her sides, onto her thighs, and inside her panties. 

She lets out sweet a little moan and buries her head in your neck. She breathes heavily on your skin as you gently rub her mound, pressing hard against her clit. Your finger slides between her lips to find her slick and wet, her clit rock-hard. 

“Ndive kamnandi (make me feel good)” Her body shivered against yours. 

“Whatever you want baby girl. Whatever you want.”

You continue, rubbing on her clit, with calculated strokes soft, slow, up, down. 

“Please baby I need more. Uhn I want to cum for you sthandwa.”

She grips the back of your neck tighter as she lets out a breathy shudder. You move your  fingers in and out of her pussy. You felt her ridges squeezing against your fingers as her hips meet your thrust. Your thumb rubbed delicate circles on her clit as tears began to run down her cheeks.

"Yes baby right there!” She says. You start pressing hard against the upper wall of her pussy. She nearly collapses from this intense sensation. Her thighs shaking beneath you. 

“Ooohh fuck me y/n. You make me feel so fucking sexy.” Your mouth was agape as you watched Shuri bounce against your fingers. She looked more erotic than you’d ever seen her before dress bunched at her waist. Sweat begining to glisten over her beautiful breast, and one of her toned legs thrown over your shoulder, her pretty feet still adorned in her heels. 

“I could cum just looking at you right now Shuri. I can’t believe you’re mine. Fuuuck.”

Your arm supported her back so she wouldn’t  fall as you brought her closer to the edge of the table.  She tenses up against you now, squeezing you with both arms. A steady stream of the most beautiful sounds to ever exit Shuri’s mouth flowing into your ears.

“You’re close baby I can feel you. Give it all to me.”

The web of your hand pressed hard against her clit as your fingers pump in and out of her. You grab her clit between your middle and index fingers, pulling the foreskin up and down. A gasp escapes her mouth. 

“Ahhhh fuckgiveitgiveittomegiveittome!”

Her words ran together as you continued to work her pussy. Teasing bringing her to the edge and slowing down because you didn’t want this to end. You loved seeing your powerful wife like this. Putty at the tips of your fingers.

By now your fingers are drenched and pruning. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, as she fell back against the table gripping the cloth. She's whispering under her breath for you to fuck her, growing more and more insistent. You were mesmerized. She began to stifle screams and you reach forward pulling a pineapple from the stick. Placing the S in sorry into your wife’s mouth. 

“Here baby. That should keep that pretty mouth quiet.”

She bites into the fruit hard. It’s juices running down the sides of her face. “Uuuuuuhhhnnn.” She lets out a long moan muffled by the the fruit. You fuck her harder, as she drools, her back begining to arch off of the table. "I'm gonna come," she says breathlessly, her mouth still full. Her body begans twitching and convulsing uncontrollably.

"It's okay, l've got you baby. Give me that shit." You lean over whispering in her ear and kissing it lightly. A few more strokes to her G-Spot, your thumb circling her clit, and you finally let her release. She lets out a long, tremulous sigh, her eyes rolling back into her head before her whole body goes limp in your arms. She comes hard, her pussy clamping down on your fingers. Her warm cream coating your hand as  you take out your dripping wet fingers. You suck her juices from your fingers and lean over her grabbing the bottom of the s of her pineapple with your teeth. Tearing it from her mouth and pecking her lips as she lay catching her breath.

You squat in front of her. Coming face to face with your work. Her panties soaking wet and rolled to the side of her fat pussy her clit jutting out between the lips. Quivering. Calling out to you. You place her heeled foot onto your shoulder and answered the call. Cleaning her up, sucking all the cum from her lower lips. And spitting it back into her clit before taking it into your mouth. Her hips buck upwards as she reached down holding your head in place. 

“Too sensitive.” She says. You reach up moving her hand from your head holding it in your hand. “You can do it.” You kiss the tip of her clit and once again engulf it. 

“Uuughhh!!” She lets out, as you suck up and down on her engorged clit. “Baby it’s too much.”

“She’s calling me Shuri.” 

“Umphhh Fuuuck!” She says as you continue sucking her. You rub your face in it. Getting your face full of her juices. You felt Shuri tensing underneath you. Holding her breath. 

“Breathe, baby. Deep breaths.” She tried following your instructions, and you felt the exact moment the pleasure took over body.

Her heels painfully dug into your shoulders, egging you on. 

“Damnit! Y/n!” She yelled, as she let out huffs of breath. Breathing through the intense pleasure. 

“Tell me you like it baby.” Your fingers reentered her sweet pussy as you ate her like your final meal.

“FUUUUUCCCCK! I love it. You drive t-this pussy crazy! Uuhhhnnn Bast! Get up! I gotta pee! I-I’m gonna e-explode!” You dive in fucking her harder sucking her faster. “Y/n, MOOVVVEE!” Her body writhed violently on top of the table anything that had been on top of it now long gone. 

“EH!” A high pitched scream left her mouth as her body almost levitated into a seated position. Her eyes and mouth wide. She grabbed the back of your neck pressing you up into her pussy, as her hips began to thrust hard against your face. You felt a gush of liquid hit the back of your throat. Unattatching yourself from her you began to cough, only to go back in and suck some more of her. Letting Shuri cover your face in her essence. She slid from the table. Both of you falling to the floor. She landed on all fours. Pussy still hovering over top of your face. You lift up kissing it. 

“Stop! Stop, stop.” She said shivering. She lowered her body between your legs laying on top of your chest, and you let out a hiss. She looked up seeing small holes left by her heels on your shoulders. 

“Did I do that!? I’m so sorry babe.” You laugh. 

“Trust me baby, I enjoyed it.” She leaned forward kissing, licking and sucking your sex injuries as you carressed the small of her back moaning from the feel of her mouth on you. 

A wrapped gift caught the corner of your eye amidst all of the broken dishes and fruit on the floor. “Oh. I almost forgot!” Shuri hummed as she continued to tend to your wounds. You reach over grabbing the box. Tapping her back, signaling her to get up. She looks down at the box as she sits all the way up straddling your waist.

“What’s this?”

“Open it. You’ll see.” You giggle as she rolls her eyes. She removes the ribbon and wrapping paper. Opening the box to two diamond Catier bracelets. 

“Apology diamonds” you say. “ They’re engraved.”She picked them up looking inside. 

One read ‘For better’ the other read ‘For worse’. 

Shuri looked looked into your eyes tears brimming. You smile.

“Forever baby.”

[bonesandthebees]

Has Tommy(innit) said anything about whats all happening?

About Wilbur?

also could you explain whats going on, please?

I kind of know but not too well, I just woke up, got news Wilbur abused someone, and everyone saying 'fuck wilbur'.

I will not support anyone who supports abuse in any way, but please understand that this is quite a shock to wake up too.

oh man I am feeling so bad for people who haven't been aware of anything that's been going on the past week

alright, a week ago Shubble (aka Shelby), a popular mcyt streamer/youtuber who has been in the scene for a very long time, did a stream talking about her last relationship. she didn't name her ex-boyfriend, but discussed all the ways in which he physically and emotionally abused her throughout their relationship and how she didn't realize it until later. their stream was largely meant to spread awareness of domestic abuse and the warning signs of it. and although they didn't name him, the details they mentioned about their ex made it pretty clear wilbur soot was their ex. twitter blew up talking about it, some people tried to claim shelby wouldn't want them to speculate so she made a tweet saying it's not that she didn't want to name her abuser, it's that she couldn't. since everyone had already been theorizing it was wilbur it was pretty well understood at this point that if their abuser wasn't wilbur, they would've said so. alongside this, a trumpeter who used to tour with lovejoy and a photographer for the band both heavily implied shelby's ex was wilbur.

after trending for five days straight on twitter with everyone talking about the allegations, wilbur posted a statement yesterday confirming that yes, he is the ex shelby was referring to, and 'apologized' for his behavior. except his apology brushed aside all of the emotional abuse he put her through, and in the same statement he claimed he thought the physical abuse (where he would bite her all the time to the point of her being covered in bruises) was consensual and a 'playful' thing despite the fact that shelby explained it was anything but. basically, his apology was dogshit and was him trying to avoid taking any kind of accountability for what he put her through. many many cc's in the twitch sphere, including wilbur's former circle of friends, replied pointing out how terrible his apology was.

tommy has not said anything yet, but also I don't expect him to say anything so soon. he just had surgery, like, what, 2 weeks ago? pretty sure he's still hopped up on pain meds. not to mention, he and wilbur have been incredibly close friends since tommy was 16. it's not easy to come to terms with the fact that someone you've known since you were 16 and looked up to as an older brother is not the person you thought they were.

alongside that, ranboo streamed yesterday and discussed the situation. they've been vocal in their support of shelby on twitter, and also told their viewers to give other cc's time for a response. they pointed out a lot of their friends are only just now learning what kind of person wilbur really is. they also said that some other cc's might not make statements at all and might just silently distance themselves from wilbur.

also, shelby herself liked this tweet yesterday

so yeah, I wouldn't expect to hear from tommy directly on this for a while, if ever. I also wouldn't be surprised if he just silently distances himself from wilbur instead of saying anything outright.

[evereverest2]

Roses — Terzomega

~part five of the Little Monster Series~

2.4k words ~ (light) smut

Days after his last encounter with Terzo, Omega finds himself in the ministry garden.

[parts]: one | previous | next

[author note:] early upload because the last part reached my goal of 50 likes! thank u everyone. for an early upload of part 6, get this one to 100 likes (i made it harder). otherwise, see you next wednesday ;)

—

“You need to get laid.”

The snickering jab came from Earth, who sizzled his cymbal for effect. Air laughed.

Omega’s tail flicked angrily. Having been warming up, he continued to practice with an edge of frustration, not giving Earth a reaction. His fingers climbed the guitar’s neck, quick as lightning, turning into an angry, shrill chromatic scale that left the guitar screaming its highest note through the crackling amp.

“He’s been so uptight,” River sighed, plucking a dark note from his bass.

“Ignoring us,” Air added with a random piano riff. “Too busy to say hi.”

“I’m right here,” Omega snapped. The four ghouls looked up from their instruments. The sound-proof practice room filled with dead air.

It was Alpha who finally spoke up. “You gotta admit it’s been a while, Megs.”

“Since what?”

“Since you got laid,” Earth interjected, hitting his bass drum a few times to punctuate his statement. 

River and Air burst into childish giggles. Omega’s brow furrowed with annoyance. Alpha laughed, a carefree sound, before shaking his head. “Nah. I mean, maybe, but nah. It’s you, man. When’s the last time we all hung out?”

“Last week,” Omega replied tersely.

“That was practice,” River said in his sullen voice. “You hardly spoke at all.”

“Yeah, like, really hung out. We used to do it all the time, right?” Alpha looked around at the other ghouls. There was a chorus of agreement.

“Why are we even practicing?” Omega huffed, suddenly frustrated. “There’s no new music and no tour date scheduled yet.”

More silence. Finally, Alpha said, “I mean, besides the obvious to keep ourselves fresh, it’s the only time we ever see you.”

“I’m busy.”

“We know, Megs. It’s not fair they make you do all that shit.”

“That’s why you gotta do your own shit, right?” Earth was relentless, laughing boisterously.

Air tilted his head, smiling suggestively. “If you need your dick sucked, you know I’m happy to do it.”

“We all want to suck your dick, Omega,” River sighed.

Omega, fed up, threw his guitar on the ground. The amp made a painful shriek that made everyone except Omega flinch.

“Megs–” Alpha tried.

Omega snarled at him, snapping his teeth. They locked eyes for a moment. Fiery red glaring into lightning purple. He growled, “We’re done here.”

He stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Every Sibling unlucky enough to see his terrifying rampage turned the other way, disappearing inside doorways, avoiding his path. There was no destination to his rageful stalking, his pacing of the Ministry. He just wanted to clear his head, to get away from the ghouls, to take one single moment of the day to himself, to think. 

At an intersection between halls, he felt a breeze gently blowing down an empty corridor, one that led to a glass door cracked open by a rock. The garden. The air was cool against his heated disposition. Refreshing. Inviting.

Omega detoured down the hall, slipping outside and carefully ensuring the door remained open. It automatically locked, and the only way to get back inside was to walk around the expansive compound through the front door.

The sky was cloudy blue, overcast but not quite raining. It was warm enough to be comfortable with a coat, though the breeze was cold and light, giving Omega goosebumps. He took deep breaths, smelling the air, calming himself. 

The plants around him were dying in the early fall, some still green, others withering away. The one plant that stood against the seasons was a dark red rose bush, though little remained of the blooms. He noticed, on the pathway, a handful of rose petals, which were bigger than any of the current flowers growing on the bush. Confused, he looked around, seeing another one further down the path. 

He walked forward, stepping around a hedge to see the very rose he had been searching for, clutched in the hands of the last man in the Ministry he wanted to see.

Cardinal Terzo was sat on an ornate concrete bench, looking down and spinning the thorny rose between his fingers. The bench was in a small clearing that looked over a garden of dead flowers, the back surrounded by hedges to create an apse in the walkway. Omega knew it was Primo’s favorite spot, and it surprised him that the old man was not there instead of Terzo. Of course, it was too cold to tend to the fauna in early autumn.

Terzo looked up at the intrusion. He looked sad. Not miserable, not pitiful, but simply sad. Then, he smiled at Omega. His frustration disappeared in an instant, leaving room to sense Terzo’s state of mind. Indeed, he was sad, mourning, his mind mulling over something in particular. But it was not all-consuming. There was a spark of happiness, and it came from seeing Omega.

“Hello, Omega ghoul. Care to join me?”

Omega hesitated. Suddenly, he felt as if he should not be there, and looked away. Terzo said, “Do not be frightened, ghoul. I do not bite.”

Omega relented, shuffling over to the bench and sitting on the edge. He stared at the collection of browning and dead flowers, wondering why Terzo was so welcoming of his presence. Since their tepid encounter days ago, they had yet to even see one another, let alone resolve the tension between them. 

“I was surprised to see this rose today,” Terzo said, breaking the silence. “The bush looks dead. Look how big and red it is.”

He held up the rose. Omega regarded it. 

“It’s dead now,” he pointed out.

“It was soon to die anyway.” Terzo held it to his nose, smelling it deeply. “Roses were mi mamma’s favorite. That is not a very uncommon favorite, is it?”

Omega shook his head.

“Many people love this flower. Yet I can only think of mamma when I see it. No one else will think of that, si? It is mi mamma’s flower. To you, you may look at this flower and think nothing of it. To me, mamma is what makes roses special.”

Omega’s tail flicked back and forth on the bench contentedly. He nodded along to Terzo’s musings. Surprisingly, this gentle atmosphere was soothing him from his outburst at the ghouls, and finally, he could calm down. 

“Is that why you’re out here?”

Terzo nodded. “Two years ago yesterday, I buried mi mamma with roses. I was hoping there would be one left in the garden.”

Omega thought to say something. To give his condolences, to ask how she died, to ask how he was doing, any number of things. Instead, he choked. And before he could think of anything of comfort, Terzo spoke again.

“What brings you to this garden, Omega ghoul?”

Relieved for the topic change, Omega sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing important. I’m taking a break.”

“From?”

“From… everything,” he chuckled slightly. “I’m exhausted.”

“Ah. It is hard, si? They say, eh, you work for Satan, then they say, eh, you must do all these things. It is like a business, not a church. Why, we are no better than the Catholics.”

Omega looked at Terzo, surprised. Though Omega may not have fully acknowledged them before, Terzo had just voiced the very feelings that he had been plagued by for far too long.

“Yeah,” he sighed, then laughed despite himself. “That’s it. I’m the only quintessence ghoul, and they give me too many responsibilities. Trivial, meaningless things anyone could handle, all because of my element.”

“You delegate then, si?” Terzo began pointing at invisible people. “You do this, and you do this. Lower your stress.”

“I don’t have the authority to do that.” Omega sighed.

“They expect too much out of you. They always do.”

Omega looked at Terzo, slowly plucking the petals from the rose. They naturally fell silent, both watching as dark petals drifted to the ground until the rose stem was barren.

“Now I have really killed it,” Terzo said, dropping the stem. He pushed his hair back, sitting up. “I can never help myself from ruining nice things.”

“It’s not always your fault.” Omega leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That rose was dead anyway.”

“Si. But how much longer could it have lived?”

“Maybe it would have died today.”

“Or maybe it would have lived through winter,” Terzo chuckled. “But it does not matter. You cannot bring back a dead rose.”

Omega stared at Terzo. After a moment, Terzo noticed, catching his eye. Omega swallowed thickly, looking down at the remnants of the flower, breaking their eye contact.

“Maybe we can.”

“Hm?”

Omega rubbed his hands together a few times, his fingers suddenly feeling cold with the breeze. He chastised himself for feeling so nervous. He looked at Terzo again.

The words escaped his mind like air from a deflating balloon. All that was left was his eyes, rimmed by black, always seeing through him, piercing him like arrows. And his lips. One plump pink, one black. An unsettling appearance, but one that Omega had grown to long for. 

Terzo reached up to take off Omega’s mask. He let him.

There was no telling who leaned in first, who initiated the kiss that followed. Only that there was one. One that both had been craving for some time. And it was unlike any they had shared before; indeed, for they had rarely kissed at all. When they did, it was rough, nasty, followed by choking or spitting or both. Never for the sake of being kissed but for the heat of dark passion. But on this concrete bench in the Ministry garden, Omega felt the gentle nature of this kiss, and it scared him. This was not how they were. This was not hatred. This was not lust.

Omega pulled away first. 

Terzo said, “Omega—”

“I want to revisit our agreement,” Omega interrupted, clearing his throat, too terrified of what Terzo would say to let him finish.

Terzo paused. “You want to fuck me again, mostriciatto?” 

Omega gripped the edge of the bench, annoyed at how he always said things like that just to make him mad. “Yes,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Why did we stop before?”

“It…” Caught off guard, Omega failed to answer right away, his mouth agape like a fool, hesitating. “Your drinking.”

“Eh, you catch me after a party, and you think I drink too much? I do not drink today, do I?”

“You always did when we had sex.”

Now, it was Terzo’s turn to be caught off guard. He shook his head, shrugging. “Wine makes me horny.”

“If we continue doing this, I don’t want you to drink all the time. It increases the risk of getting caught,” he added quickly.

“Fine.” He held up his hands. “I will be responsible. I won’t quit cold poultry, but I will do my best. Happy?”

Being happy was a complicated feat. Omega was surprised at how happy he was at that moment, yet what lingered in the back of his mind was far from the excitement he felt now. It made him want to quell the happiness, chalk it up to being horny, and forget the ways Terzo’s smile made him feel.

Omega nodded slowly. Terzo reached up to touch his face.

“Shall we reinstate the agreement now or later?”

Omega pointedly avoided turning his head to Terzo’s touch, glaring at a dead leaf across the garden instead. “I’m busy until evening.”

Terzo tutted. He got up to stand in front of him, casually running his arms along his shoulders. He leaned over to kiss his jaw. He murmured lowly, “As I recall, you still have one more hour of practice.”

Omega wondered when Terzo found out his schedule, or when he became such a convincing man.

He tilted his head to meet Terzo’s, reuniting once more in a salacious lip lock. His arms slipped around his waist, pressing their bodies close, Terzo now standing between his legs. His hands ran along Omega’s back, lightly scratching, slipping up to tangle his fingers in Omega’s hair. Omega gripped his ass with his big hands, slipping one down his pants just to feel the flesh. Terzo released a gentle groan.

Omega suddenly lifted Terzo, then carefully set him on the concrete bench, lying down. He knelt over him, one leg on the ground to balance, kissing fiercely. Terzo held on to him, still playing with his hair and face with his fingers, splitting his legs apart greedily. Omega slid his hand down his chest, stomach, resting comfortably on the curve of his bulge. He thumbed the length of it, tight in his pants, making him moan lightly.

Then Omega heard something, which made him stop dead in his tracks. The crunch of a dead leaf. He raised his head, his eyes darting around them.

“Mostriciatto—”

Omega shushed him. He walked away from the bench, checking the path that led to the door. Not a soul in sight. The door was still ajar. Omega returned to Terzo.

“I thought I heard someone,” he said, tense.

“There is nobody around, ghoul; you worry too much.”

Omega looked at Terzo, who was disheveled and clearly begging for more. As much as he wanted to relent, to give in to his feral desire to rip into him in the garden, he was too concerned with getting caught, and the moment had passed.

“It’s too risky out here.” Omega pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why we didn’t think about this.”

“We are horny,” Terzo said helpfully.

Omega sighed. “I should get back to work.”

“You have always been a cockblock, ghoul,” Terzo mumbled bitterly, standing to readjust his pants and fix his hair.

Omega glowered at him. “You think I’m not frustrated?”

“I hope you are,” Terzo grinned. “Then you will treat me not-so-nice later tonight.”

Omega crossed his arms. “I’ll be at your quarters when I’m finished.”

“Oh, Omega, do not finish before you see me. It will not be as fun,” Terzo winked at him. He slapped Omega’s ass on his way out, causing him to jump in surprise. Omega’s eyebrows furrowed, embarrassed, angry that he was embarrassed, and glared at Terzo as he walked up the path and disappeared inside the Ministry.

[parts]: one | previous | next

buy me a kofi <3

[wileys-russo]

head over (tar) heels II a.russo x reader

this one goes out to my favourite era (besides boyfriend less ofc) PSA: I’ve never been to an american college :)

head over (tar) heels II a.russo x reader 4.7k words

the first interaction.

"shit." alessia mumbled to herself. anxiously chewing her bottom lip she held the campus map at eye line, tilting it to the side and squinting her eyes as if that might help her magically understand where she needed to go.

lotte and lois having a different class together had already taken off leaving alessia to stumble her way around hopelessly lost, attempting to navigate her way to geology.

the english girl was still relatively new and though given a quick tour on her first day, her american team mates seeming nice enough, she'd hardly had more than a couple rapid fire training sessions to get to know them and had no clue if they shared any classes in common.

homesickness had also meant that most of her spare time where she could have been putting more effort into getting to know them, had been instead consumed with constant phone calls back home, trying to wrap her head around the time difference and gazing longingly at photos of her friends and family. sharp pains shooting through her chest she repeatedly ticked over if such a huge decision had actually been the right one.

quickly checking the time on her phone alessia's stomach tightened into a knot, the blonde looking around in fear as more and more students disappeared into buildings and strode off confidently in all directions. alessia looked on with a sense of envy, her peers clearly knowing where they needed to go.

swallowing her panic alessia took a deep breath to re-ground before shoving the map into her bag, desperate for a solution. spotting a girl who looked potentially around her own age alessia mumbled herself some encouragement before hurrying off after the stranger. 

"uh, excuse me!" she called out, panic resurfacing when the girl either heard and ignored her, or had no clue alessia was even actually speaking to her.

then again why would she respond,  a critical element needed to signal you were actually being spoken to was someone knowing and calling out your name.

"sorry, excuse me." alessia reached the stranger, tapping her gently on the shoulder as the girl jumped in surprise, turning quickly and pulling an earphone out.

nice going less, pick someone who can't hear you and then startle her like a creep.

"yes?" you questioned raising an eyebrow expectantly, caught more off guard by the glowing blue orbs you'd now locked eyes with than the actual tap on your shoulder.

"i'm really sorry to bother you but i'm horrible with directions, would you happen to know where chapman hall is?" alessia asked nervously, the wind knocked right out of her chest at the sheer beauty of the girl standing in front of her.

your face softened at the obvious foreign accent and you nodded. "which building are you looking for?" you asked politely, pulling out your other earphone and tucking your phone away into the pocket of your hoodie. 

"uh 803 I think."

"geology with smith?" you guessed and alessias eyebrows furrowed, the taller of the two nodding in surprise. "same, we can go together." you sent the girl a dazzlingly reassuring smile, alessia's stomach doing back flips at the sight.

"god i thought i was never going to find it. thank you so much!" alessia sighed in relief, returning you a smile as the two of you set off, now in the right direction. 

(which had in fact been the opposite that alessia was originally headed)

 "so, british?" you questioned, cringing at yourself for the clearly obvious statement.

"alessia, actually." the blonde beside you joked, sending you a cheeky grin as she held out her hand, the italian unsure where her sudden boost of confidence had appeared from. "y/n, american." you shook her hand, the two of you pausing at your words before laughing, conversation flowing easily as you both made your way across campus.

"do you want me to properly show you around sometime? the place is huge but once you get settled you'll be an expert in no time!" you offered kindly, alessia having just finished telling you about what had brought her here in the first place, how attentive and interested you seemed in her words not lost on her.

"yeah actually that would be great. thanks!"

the realization.

"-and i think she's coming to the game on the weekend with her friends! though i told her she didn't have to cause its an away match and I know she has a load of assignments. but she's so smart she hardly even has to try, unlike me. i swear without her notes i'm gonna fail geology. but who even needs geology!" alessia rambled on, so focused packing her kit bag for an early training session tomorrow she missed the knowing smirk exchanged between her english team mates. 

"so less tell us exactly when are you asking her out then?" lois asked quite casually, alessia tripping and falling head first into her bag she was so caught off guard at the question, lotte shooting up to help the blonde back to her feet. 

"what?" alessia spluttered out, still in a state of shock as she peeled away the socks from her face.

"less, mate. you clearly like the girl, just ask her out!" lotte bumped her team mates shoulder supportively before sitting back down on the bed beside lois who nodded eagerly in agreement.

"i do not! we're just friends, don't make it weird." alessia mumbled, busying herself with unpacking and refolding her already neatly folded training kit.

"less, it's okay if you do like her. she's all you talk about half the time! plus the way your face lights up whenever she's around, it's a special thing to see." lotte tried again, smiling reassuringly at the younger girl who frowned sliding down onto the floor, uniform still in her hands as her head softly thumped back against her mattress of the bed behind her.

"her face lights up too! i don't think it's one sided. the two of you hang out all the time, sometimes it feels like you prefer her company over your own teammates!" lois teased with a grin, alessia's cheeks flushing a rosy pink as she shoved her uniform back into her bag, pulling her knees to her chest with a troubled sigh.

"how do you even know when you like someone...like that. not to say i do like her!" alessia was quick to correct, pointing a finger sternly toward the girls across from her who nodded. "well, when you're around her, you feel happy right?" lois started, alessia nodding, eyebrows still knitted into a frown.

"i feel like that when i see any of my friends lois." alessia answered bluntly, lois looking toward lotte to continue, the girl being the one everyone would go to for any sort of advice, wise beyond her years.

"when you guys aren't together, do you still speak? like message and stuff a lot of the time?" lotte questioned as alessia nodded in confirmation. "and when you aren't together, do you miss her? wish you were still hanging out?" alessia gave yet another nod at the question, this one a little more hesitant.

"what's something you like about her?" "well she's really really kind, and passionate, and she actually listens when someone speaks. like properly invested in the conversation, makes her easy to talk to." alessia answered honestly, eyes moving to gaze up towards the roof as she crossed her arms over her chest, legs thumping back down to the ground.

"okay, now I just want you to tell me the first thing that pops into your head yeah?" lotte encouraged softly, alessia nodding along in understanding, eyes still trained toward the roof.

"how do you feel around her? other than happy." "i don't know, sort of light headed i guess?" alessia answered with a small frown and an uncertain shrug.

"what's her favourite colour?" "green, like a forest green."

"biggest strength?" "she reads what people need really well."

"what's her major?" "social science."

"what's her first class tomorrow?" "ethics."

"first thing you notice about her?" "smile."

"thing you miss when she isn't there?" "her laugh."

"and where would you like to kiss her?" "on the lips."

a sudden somewhat suffocating silence filled the small dorm room. a beat of time passed before alessia jolted upright, eyes widening in shock as she registered how casually the last answer had slipped out, lotte sending her a knowing smile. 

"jesus christ lot if this football thing doesn't work out, you could be like a love expert or something..." lois spluttered out as she looked to the girl beside her in awe who simply shrugged.

"and that less is how you know you like someone."

the first kiss.

"-and that second goal what a rocket! poor keeper never stood a chance you just booted it!" you rambled excitedly, alessia laying down on her bed watching you reenact the goal with a soft smile, giggling as you kicked a throw pillow across the floor.

just over a month had passed now since the realization that alessia did in fact like you a lot more than she thought, and not as just a close friend. ever since then her feelings toward you seemed to grow more by the day, and in turn she began to pay closer attention to all of the small habits and traits that made you you.

like the way the corner of your eyes would crinkle when you smiled, tiny dimples appearing in each cheek. or the way you'd always put your hand over your mouth when you laughed, and need to be reminded to breathe in amongst your giggles, the tips of your ears flushing bright red.

or the way the tip of your tongue would poke through the small gap in your teeth when you concentrated, biting down on your bottom lip with a confused frown when stuck on a particularly hard question.

the way you'd frequently go on passionate tangents about all sorts of things, only stopping yourself from speaking once you realized you were on a tangent, your cheeks flushing rosy pink and a hasty apology issued shortly after, which alessia made sure to consistently promise you wasn't needed.

alessia knew your regular coffee order off by heart, often meeting you before or after class with the iced drink at the ready, stomach doing cartwheels at the way your eyes lit up every time she would.

the way you paid close attention when she explained the actual rules of football to you after the first time you came to watch one of her games, asking her all the right questions and seeming genuinely interested in her answers. your determined commitment to best understand what was her passion in life only making alessia grow more fond of you.

it spurred her on to play her best football when she knew you were in the crowd watching. which was practically every game you could, even dragging your friends to accompany you most of the time.

alessia had even picked up the habit of a regular celebration whenever she scored, something she'd never bothered with at any other time in her career, adoring how it meant she could hear your laughter ring out across the field at the goofy pose. the blonde well aware she was embarrassing herself, that came second to the sense of pride and satisfaction felt in making you smile.

by nature you'd always been quite an affectionate person around your friends, growing up in a family and a household where it lacked meant you sought physical touch amongst others. so it wasn't uncommon for your legs to be sprawled across alessia's lap, or for you to reach for her hand and mess around with her fingers during quiet lapses in conversation. 

nor was it uncommon for alessia's arm to be draped comfortably across the back of your shoulder blades, or your hands messing around with her hair as her head laid in your lap. you could easily spend hours doing and undoing tiny plaits in her long blonde locks to keep yourself occupied whilst helping the english girl study.

which unbeknownst to you, did quite the opposite as alessia's heart would hammer away in her chest at your touch. letters jumbled with one another as she attempted to read through your notes, often requesting you read them to her given that she couldn't focus on anything else but you.

but then came her lack of confidence to actually confess any of these feelings to you. the strikers painstakingly obvious swooning and doing all she could to gain your attention and affections was easily noticed by her teammates and friends, obvious to everyone it seemed but to you.

"okay my celebration did not look like that!" alessia defended herself as you broke out into a victory dance, kicking the throw pillow into alessia's closet which had become your decided temporary goal. "oh but it did, I even got it on video." you grinned, collapsing beside the older girl on her bed and pulling out your phone. clicking into the video it did indeed confirm alessia's fears, she looked like her dad when he had one too many and busted a move.

"delete that right now! there needs to be not a shred of evidence." alessia shook her head, reaching for your phone as you quickly clicked it off. "absolutely not." you grinned with a firm shake of your head.

"it's going right into my 'things to blackmail alessia with once she's a big famous soccer player' folder." you teased, the taller girl rolling her eyes.

"football." she corrected, squeezing at your cheeks as you playfully smacked away her hands. "soccer." you argued in the same mocking tone, poking at her nose. "one last chance to say it's football." alessia warned, your forehead creasing in confusion. "or wha-" you didn't even have time to finish your sentence before the question was answered for you, the english girls slender fingers digging into your side.

"lessi!" you squealed, wriggling and bucking your body trying to evade her but it was a fruitless task given the small king single bed you were both occupying. meaning very minimal space was available for you to move away from her without falling down to the floor.

"okay okay okay, football!" you all but yelled, shoving the striker away from you as you sunk into the mattress, chest heaving up and down struggling to catch your breath back. "I hate you." you wheezed out, kicking at her as your arm fell to cover your flushed face.

"no you don't, you could never." alessia teased with a grin, tugging your arm off of your face causing you to roll onto your side, the two of you now in very close proximity. seeing you so up close only made alessia's heart harder and faster in her chest, close enough for her to count the freckles that dotted across your tanned face, all thanks to the harsh carolina sun.

time seemed to slow as alessia shamelessly stared, her watchful gaze scanning across all of the tiny features which made you, well you. her eyes then met yours as if asking permission she lent in a tiny bit to test the waters, and when you didn't immediately recoil her body took over, silencing the screaming doubts and alarm bells ringing loudly in her head.

her warm lips met with yours, the kiss short but sweet as she pulled away eyes widening in shock at what she'd just done, reality had set in. but before she could utter out the apology which was stuck in her throat, you spoke first.

"finally russo, I've been waiting for you to do that." "what!"

meeting her family.

"gio promise me that you won't be a dick!" alessia sternly warned her older brother, the boy having come to visit and stay with her for a few weeks amid his travels. "less please. i'll be on my best behavior, scouts honor!" the older italian smiled charmingly, the two of them crammed into the makeshift campus bar, everyone having gathered together to watch one of the largest basketball matches of the college season against their rival school Duke.

"that's her over there." lotte interrupted, pointing you out where you sat at a table toward the back surrounded by your own group of friends, laughing at something one of them had said. "mum was right she is gorgeous. what's she dating you for?" gio teased, staring at his younger sister whose face twisted into a glare, punching his arm at the comment.

"well, best not waste time then!" gio clapped his sister on the back, grabbing a beer he was offered before striding off in your direction, alessia doing the same and hurrying after him, lotte and some of her other team mates in tow. "lessi, hi!" you cheered happily as you spotted her, grinning as you stared up towards the taller girl whose nerves melted away somewhat at the sight, noticing you were clearly already a little tipsy.

greeting your friends she exchanged hugs with some of them she knew quite well, introducing her brother as lotte pulled you aside and into a hug, making your own way around greeting alessia's friends as the two groups merged into one, everyone hollering in anticipation as the buzzer sounded and the game commenced on the tv's scattered around the room.

eventually, after you'd finished making your rounds with your girlfriends team mates you ended up in front of her brother. alessia's world then suddenly seemed to freeze, stuck temporarily in conversation with a few of her friends across the other side of the table, contemplating quite literally jumping over it to come to your aid.

but it seemed that wasn't necessary as with only a few words exchanged between you and her brother both parties laughed and gio pulled you into a friendly hug, sitting down and busying you in conversation as alessia let out a deep exhale she hadn't realized she was even holding in.

"see, worried your pretty little head off for nothing. it's fine! relax and have a drink, lets go Heels!" lotte finished with a scream, holding up her beer as everyone around her echoed the chant, raising their own drinks in cheers.

~

"i think i might have a new favourite russo now, sorry babe." you later teased the blonde, sat on her lap as the game counted down its final minutes, her arms wrapped tightly around your torso.

"well you're only human." gio winked, clinking his beer against yours as alessia gently pinched at your thigh for the comment, her jacket draped around your shoulders.

suddenly the bar exploded into an electric scream as the final buzzer sounded, signaling that UNC had won. it was the first time you'd conquered your rivals in two years you happily informed gio, who looked around in confusion as the bar suddenly emptied, everyone running out hollering and cheering in packs.

"it's a campus tradition, everyone runs onto main street and they start a bonfire!" one of alessia's team mates informed as the table all stood to their feet, alessia making sure to keep a tight hold on your hand as both of you were hustled out of the bar and into the crisp autumn air by the large horde of drunken fans.

"this is the weirdest tradition ever. all of this over a college basketball game!" gio laughed in disbelief as he filmed the chaos interrupting around you all, him and lotte running alongside you and alessia as cheers and singing broke out amongst the huge crowd of college students sprinting wildly in all directions.

"quick, let's go Heels!" lotte drunkenly shouted at the top of her lungs, yourself joining in with her as you dropped your girlfriends hand, launching yourself onto lotte as the girl sprinted off with you in a piggyback.

"be careful please!" alessia shouted after the two of you with a face splitting grin, cheeks flushed rose pink, a combination of the alcohol she'd consumed and the sudden temperature change now standing outdoors.

"i've never seen you like this." gio smiled toward his younger sister, the two of them now pushing their way through the crowd. "what do you mean?" alessia laughed, glancing over at him before standing up on tippy toes to try and spot you or lotte. 

"like this. so happy and care free, grinning like a bloody cheshire cat. we were a bit worried you'd come running right back home with all the calls after you first left, but then they stopped and now i think i can somewhat see why." gio laughed, nodding toward where the taller boy could see you and lotte, having linked up with some more of your friends just a little way deeper into the crowd.

"she's not the only reason i like it here!" alessia's cheeks deepened in color, catching onto what her brother was insinuating. "no but she contributes to it, and that's not something you've had before. it's nice!" gio smiled sincerely, alessia wrapping him into a hug. 

"but luca and I do have a bet going on how long it'll be before she realises she's out of your league and moves onto someone else. so if you could accelerate that to...before january, i'd be ten pound richer!" her brother smirked, alessia shaking her head and shoving him away playfully as he messed up her hair.

"you couldn't just let us have a lovely moment, could you?" "that's not what brother's are for, you should have learnt that by now."

pre match traditions.

"there, all done." you bent down to peck your girlfriends cheek as you finished braiding her hair. 

seeing her struggle and offering to do it once early on in your friendship had quickly turned into it being a match day tradition between the two of you, alessia quite superstitious when it came to big games.

and today, her junior championship final, was the big game.

"thank you. checklist?" the older girl sighed, pushing herself up using your knees as leverage from where she sat between your legs on the floor, grabbing her kit bag.

"socks, shin guards, boots, water bottle, finger tape, spare socks, chewing gum, deodorant, perfume, dry shampoo, back up water bottle, yellow gatorade, protein bar." you ticked off using your fingers, alessia humming in confirmation at each object as she located it, zipping her bag up and placing it back on your floor.

"what if i miss a sitter and it's my fault we lose?" the blonde collapsed onto her back on the bed beside you, burying her face in her hands. "you won't. it's okay to be nervous but with soccer you can't afford to dwell on all the what if's...a certain little birdy told me that." you gently pried the girls hands away, interlocking your fingers and pressing a gentle kiss to the pad of her thumb.

"football." alessia corrected, unable to help the smile that grew on her face at your words. "come here." the striker was quick to pull you on top of her, your legs straddling her hips as you leant your forehead against hers. "hi." you smiled sweetly, pecking her lips and attempting to sit up but a strong pair of arms wrapped around your back, pressing your body tightly against the one beneath you.

"give me a proper kiss." the older girl whined, lip jutting out into a pout as you rolled your eyes but obliged none the less, quickly pulling away as you felt her tongue slip into your mouth.

"no. you need to go soon! it's almost 3." you giggled, squeezing your girlfriends cheeks before unwrapping her arms from around you and sitting up.

"but it's a pre match tradition that you make out with me, so..." alessia grinned, hands clawing needily at her spare jersey which hung off your smaller frame, attempting to pull you back down.

"which is why we've already made out, twice now to be exact. you need to go! baby i'm not being picked on by your teammates as the reason you're late for warm ups, again." you rolled your eyes, grabbing the girls wandering hands as they slipped up the inside of your shirt, nails scratching gently against your bare skin.

"they know full well if they tried to pick on you they'd have me to deal with." alessia rolled her eyes, hands coming to rest on your bare thighs sat either side of her. "ooo so scary." you mocked with a teasing grin placing your own hands on her cheeks, thumbs softly caressing her jaw as you leant down and stole another quick kiss before rolling off of her.

"go!" you pointed sternly towards your door, alessia standing to her feet with an over dramatic groan. "fine!"

"i'll see you out there superstar." you shared a tight hug before you opened your door, the excited chatter of your peers filling the room. "i'll be the one in blue holding the trophy." alessia grinned, grabbing your waist to pull you in for one final kiss.

"now there's that russo confidence, go heels!"

her first championship.

"come on, one last push go heels!" you screamed at the top of your lungs, voice raw and practically gone after how tense the game had been, your friends echoing the same chant beside you as the whistle finally blew, the crowd erupting as your girlfriend sprinted to join the team pile on in the middle of the field. 

she did it, she'd won her first american junior college championship.

"let's fucking go number nineteen!" you screamed with pride as alessia's name was called, the girl stepping up to receive her hat and medal at the presentation. cupping your hands over your mouth and hollering proudly, alessia's brothers who sat the row in front of you joined in, her parents turning around to shoot you elated grins.

you chatted away happily with your friends about the game as you waited for alessia to have her moment with her team and the trophy, taking dozens of photos before making her way over to her family who stood to the side, tears filling their eyes as hugs and congratulations were shared.

"i think this mean's you've reached ultimate wag status now." your best friend teased, bumping her shoulder with yours as you made your way down the stadium steps and onto the pitch, rolling your eyes at the comment.

you promised to catch up with them later as your friends headed off to congratulate the rest of the team, alessia making the same promise to her family before the two of you made a beeline for one another.

"champions!" you cheered loudly as the blonde picked you up with ease, your legs wrapping around her waist as the two of you tightly clung onto one another, alessia twirling you around a couple times before placing you back on the ground.

"i'm so proud of you." you smiled sincerely, tugging her into a short but searing kiss, pulling away all too quickly for your girlfriends liking, though in such a public setting you hardly wanted her parents to see you with their daughters tongue shoved down your throat.

"you know i never thought i was into girls with backwards hats, but this is doing it for me." you nodded, gesturing playfully to the championship snap back adorning your girlfriends head. "oh really? good to know." alessia smirked pulling you in for another kiss, unable to wipe the grin off of her face at the feeling of sheer euphoria currently pumping through her veins.

her words from before had come true, here she could be seen in blue, holding the trophy. only the piece of silverware from the game sat in the hands of her coach who stood on the other side of the field. unbeknownst to you, the trophy in her hands was you, the blonde firmly determined never to let that change.

"i love you." alessia blurted out suddenly, the three words having been dancing on the tip of her tongue for a few weeks now, too scared to let them slip at the wrong time and scare you away. "i love you." you immediately echoed back with a laugh, the complete lack of doubt in your response only further fueling alessia's body with unbridled joy.

it was plain to be seen that you both had fallen sweetly, irreversibly and to some nauseatingly head over heels in love with one another. 

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts III

A/N: firstly apologies for the wait and secondly I absolutely did not want to cut this into another part but here we are 😢 I think this will change some ppls opinions oops dont hate me

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————————

I couldn’t put my finger on it but something was off in my life; I felt disconnected from myself, my friends, and most importantly from Gray. But getting Gray to communicate when he didn’t want to could feel like pulling teeth. And I was no dentist.

I figured the solution was to stubbornly throw myself into work. After all, with Harry’s European tour starting March there was always a lot to do.

“Nice of you to get here so early,” Harry says as I step off the elevators just before 9–an hour later than I usually do.

“I had dry cleaning to pick up,” I ignore his sarcasm. “Your tour fits aren’t going to magically appear in the penthouse as nice as that would be for me.”

I keep my tone light, joking, but it’s passive just as he is. And he can’t call passive out.

That’s what working for Harry has been like since December. It was winter outside these walls and inside.

I had originally decided to let it all go after sitting with the party’s events that weekend but upon arriving to work Harry had been particular asshole-ish and I decided two could play at the game. It was like the holiday party never happened. And I was okay with that.

“If they did, I wouldn’t need you would I?” Harry takes on the same tone I do.

Asshole, “yeah, how nice would that be.”

I walk away to his closet to hang up the garment bags.

“You still have two fits that need final fitting. For today, you’ve got a 2pm for your ear plugs and monitors,” I say as I walk back into the main living space. I take in Harry in his bathrobe and bedhead and realize he must be hungover. Which meant extra grumpy. “Also a meeting before noon with Jeff—he’s sick so he’ll do a Zoom. And rehearsals start tomorrow at 8am.”

The long-awaited tour he was rehearsing for was 2 months long and with his tour manager joining him I’d be kind of redundant. We agreed I’d start the tour with him, and then end it as he came back to the UK but I’d take a break in between.

“Good,” Harry sits on a barstool and as the robe parts I hoped he was wearing something underneath. “Are you joining rehearsals?”

“Tomorrow yeah,” I instinctively start tidying the coffee table littered with Harry’s activities from last night. There’s empty bottles and unused rolling papers, takeout containers and unopened bottles.

“Can you stop that,” Harry snaps. He’s wincing when I look up. “The clinking—it’s too loud.”

His second statement comes out softer but it doesn’t make him any less irritating.

“I’ll just toss these ones,” I take the ones I’d gathered in my hand.

“So,” he carries on with the earlier conversation. “Just tomorrow yeah?”

“Yep, to make sure everyone’s there, forms are signed, and all that. Jeff will drop by too. Otherwise I’ll just be there once a week or so since I have other things to complete.”

“So you’ll enjoy the full glory of the show once it’s live on stage?”

“I guess.”

“Please y/n reign in the excitement, it’s just too much.” Harry flexes his sarcasm again.

I look up from the other side of the island and lock eyes with him. With one bottle still in my hand I don’t put it in gently, instead letting it drop onto the others in the bin. His face twists in pain and I get my hit of satisfaction.

“I am excited,” I continue. “I’ll be more excited when you get on tour but right now I’m buried under an insane amount of logistics and stuff. So I’m just pacing myself.”

“Glad you got that out of your system,” he slides off the stool. “Are you sure you want to join tour? It takes a toll.”

“What? Am I taking up the space you reserved for groupies?” I goad.

He pretends to think, “No…we’ve got a whole other bus for that.”

“Great,” I smile. “Then I’ll definitely be there for the start of your tour, cheering you on.”

“Not too hard though,” Harry grabs a water from the fridge and heads towards the bedrooms. “Can’t have all of y/n’s enthusiasm overshadowing my fans.”

I roll my eyes behind his back and choose not to respond, as tempting as it was.

By the end of the week I’ve met everyone that’ll be joining the tour, taken copies of a million contracts and filed a billion papers.

It’s Saturday night and we’re heading home from the studio. Harry, in a twist of kindness, offers to drop me home.

“You don’t live too far,” he comments as we get closer to my building.

“Yeah, I was surprised with that.” It was a stroke of luck having a short commute.

“How does Mr. Duran feel about you coming on tour?”

I throw him a look but he sits there smug, waiting. “Well he’s not keen on me being away from home for so long but otherwise he’s fine.”

“Is he?” Harry extends his knee to nudge mine, irritating me. Just a few more minutes.

“Yes.” I turn to look out the window, no longer interested in the conversation. In reality Gray had been pretty upset that I’d be travelling the continent with womanizer Harry Styles. I’d soothed his fears but he was hard-headed about it.

Originally I’d saved the conversation to be had after New Year’s to not ruin the holidays but Josie had brought up tickets for the tour during Christmas dinner and although I played it off then, he’d been in a mood since.

“You’re an awful liar,” Harry says. I don’t respond. Luckily I’m home.

I figured Sunday, on my day off, Gray and I could catch up and spend quality time together. Maybe iron out some of our kinks. But he tells me he had a few sessions and I’m left alone for most of the day, convinced Gray booked them on purpose but not wanting to admit what that meant.

The following Thursday night, Gray and I finally collide after I’d spent the week stewing in my anger and anxieties.

“Why won’t you just talk to me? I feel like I’m living with a stranger these days.” The conversation starts out semi-tamed as we wash up for dinner.

“You feel that way? Well I’ve seen my fiancée for less than 48 hours a week this last year. Talk about being a stranger.”

“I’ve been taking more time off,” I wonder when he decided to count the number of hours. But it was true—I’d started doing a half-days on most Saturdays and coming home earlier on week nights. Like tonight, I’d been home by half past 6. “I’ve been trying to spend more time at home.”

“Too little too late,” Gray mutters.

“What?”

“I just mean,” he sighs. “I…y/n, we barely get time together. We’re like flatmates these days aren’t we? We haven’t-“

“Don’t you dare Gray,” I wasn’t having this. I refused to hear what he was trying to get at.

“Y/n don’t be difficult-“

“Difficult!? You can’t go radio silent on me and then decide 3 years can just go down the drain.”

“I’m not saying that-“

“Then what are you saying!?”

The silence rings to the corners of our kitchen. The dishes are long forgotten, suds drip down my elbow and onto the floor, and Gray’s towel hangs like a white flag beside him.

“You knew what this job meant—you work with the same clientele, and you encouraged me to go for it. I’m trying to be better I don’t get it.” I finally say.

“I’m saying something needs to change.”

What takes me back the most is the even—even apathetic, tone. It’s the fact that he must have been thinking on this for long enough to be so level-headed about it.

Who has he talked to, I wonder. His sister? Our friends? Who’s advised him to go in this direction because the Grayson I know wouldn’t do me like this. Couldn’t.

Are you even the y/n Grayson knows, a small voice asks in my head.

“We’ve changed, I get it.” My tone takes a pleading ring to it and I hate it. “But you can’t just decide this isn’t worth fighting for Gray-“

“I’m not Y/n,” he puts the towel to the side and grabs my arms. “I’m not throwing anything away but we need to bloody figure something out because…I’m unhappy. And can you really say our relationship is the same? Can you call what we’re in a relationship?”

“Why not?” I whisper, tears choking me. “I thought we love each other and we support each other and-and we see each other through thick and thin.”

“I love you,” Gray squeezes. “And I know we’ve seen each other through thick and thin but…I don’t know if I can keep supporting you at the expense of us.”

“Well what do you want?” I look up into his brown eyes. They’re steady like they usually were.

“I want you, selfishly. I want all of you.”

He had what he wanted, didn’t he get that? He had me. I don’t know what more of me I could give him. And that thought tears me right through.

“What happened to setting a date?” Gray steps back and takes his steady grip with him. I sink into the countertop behind me. “What happened to planning for our future? Marriage and kids and buying a home and doing something more?”

His voice raises as he talks.

“I feel like I’ve been living in limbo for the last year! Just waiting around for you. I don’t know how much longer I can wait-“

“We can set a date,” I say. “We can do all that! You-you haven’t brought up any of it either! If it’s been weighing on your mind why don’t you ever just say something!?”

“I shouldn’t have to!”

I’d hit a nerve. We’d had this conversation a dozen times.

“Of course you do! Like, I’m not a mind reader you’ve been stewing in these feelings for god knows how long and now you’re telling me you’re thinking of-of-of ending things!?”

There, I’d said it.

His face contorts into a flurry of emotions. My body feels ragged just saying these things out loud.

“When I spoke to Stewart and Bex they said-“

“Stewart and…” I was right he’s been talking. “You were talking to Stew and Bex!? Since when did you spend time with Bex?”

“Since I had a lot of time alone at home.”

Fuck, he managed to get the upper hand all the time with that one valid point he had.

“They both agreed with me that this isn’t right. I’m allowed to be upset and ask you for something to change-“

“But why didn’t you talk to me!” The switch to anger is quick when he admits he was talking to our friends. I think about the last few times we saw them—had they been judging me? Had Gray told them by then?

Gray tries to brush past and tell me more about his validated feelings, about how things had changed. I can’t hear anymore.

“This decision you seem to want to make for both of us should involve me too and yet you make it the talk of the town before consulting me. I’m so goddamn tired of the way you shut down Gray I-“

“I’m tired!” He butts in. “I’m tired of watching things change and being forced to move past it.”

I stare at him. He’s not bending whatsoever. He’s not even understanding the frustration at being the last to know his feelings on our fucking relationship. Didn’t he understand how iced out that made me feel? When I’ve been trying to be as mindful as I can?

“You know what Gray,” I sneer. “You talk about us changing but did you ever think that we’ve been changing since we first met!? The only thing that’s different now is we stopped talking!”

I throw the rest of the dishes into the soapy water and storm out to the only safe haven I had right now—our bed.

Everyone wanted parts of me I couldn’t give and I felt torn to shreds! I hardly recognized the girl in the mirror, I hardly remembered what it felt like to be me.

The only time I felt centered, a bit of calm, was here. With Gray.

And now I knew the feelings weren’t mutual. He’d been thinking of ending things while I had curled in his arms. While I had kissed him goodnight and hello. While we had dinner or drinks. While we hung out with friends who were privy to all the cracks in our relationship. Who knows how long it had been a one-sided feeling.

I bury my head into my pillow wanting to scream and cry at the same time. My head hurts but mostly my heart hurts. I feel betrayed by my bestest friend and the person I love the most.

You’re no better, the ugly voice in my head shows up again. You’ve done things you should be ashamed of.

I block the voice out. I block it all out until all I feel is numb.

Gray doesn’t come to bed at all that night. I drag myself out of the nest I’d created some time around midnight, thinking he fell asleep on the sofa. To tell him to come to bed since I knew our sofa wasn’t long enough for him to even fit on.

I sway in the middle of the empty living room. There’s nobody here. Definitely not Gray. He’d left altogether, to wherever he’s been finding refuge recently.

It hits me; I think I’ve done this to myself. I was alone. Really alone.

***

The scowl is permanently etched onto my face as I go about my Friday morning. I feel Harry’s eyes on me a few times but even he doesn’t broach the subject. We silently maneuver around each other until he leaves for rehearsal.

I think about calling my friends to talk about this but I realize all my friends who were up to date on my life had become interwoven with Gray’s. And I already know Gray complained about my job to them based on a few parties last year. So they definitely wouldn’t be unbiased listening to anything I said.

I regret then, not staying in touch more with my friends back home. For the first time in years I feel a bit homesick.

I decide busying myself with work would be the only thing to keep me sane so I throw on headphones and get down to business.

As the day starts to come to an end I put on Harry’s stereo with the mournful songs that had been comforting me today and grab a seltzer from the fridge. He wouldn’t be home until 8 tonight and he’s always been open about using whatever was in the general living spaces.

So I nearly have a heart attack when I see a shadow from the corner of my eyes around 6.

I give a shout when it comes with a voice and once my senses return I realize it’s just a sweaty Harry back early from rehearsal.

“What? Are you doing here!?” I press on my pounding heart. “Alexa music off.”

He’s grinning at the way I reacted and now he laughs, it’s a bending-over laugh and I chuckle myself as I replay how dramatic it all was.

“Wow.” He says when he finally catches his breath. “I wish I had that on video.”

“Jesus,” I swear. “I thought you’d be home a lot later.”

“So this is what happens when I’m not home,” he teases.

“Only on Fridays,” I collapse into the closest chair and tilt my head back. “God, I thought there was like, an intruder or something. Or a ghost.”

He laughs again, moving to the kitchen for a water. “Good thing ghosts don’t exist.”

“They so do.” I reply.

“There’s no proof that’s ever convinced me they exist.”

“You live a sad skeptical life Mr. Styles.” My breathing is finally regulated and I sit up to look at him. “I’ve seen one myself when I was a teen. I wish I could be a disbeliever like you.”

“You’ll have to tell me the story,” he leans on the island looking very amused.

“I will,” I accept his challenge.

“I cut rehearsals short,” he continues. “I’m knackered from this week. I just want to be one with my couch and get drunk and not worry about what moves to do and what song to sing.”

“Yeah,” he looked tired and his hair was getting a bit shaggy. He runs his hand through the damp curls. “I need a shower and I think I should do a trim.”

“Consider it booked,” I pull the phone towards me and text his usual stylist. I hear him move around the space and pause before he disappears down the hall.

“Are you heading home soon?” He asks.

“Hm?” I kill time responding, acting like I didn’t hear his response. I didn’t want to go home at all. I didn’t even know if Gray was home or not and I didn’t want to find out. Harry repeats his question. “No. I wanted to wrap up some things. I can move to the office if you wanted the space to chill out?”

He shrugs and tells me I could go where I want.

I wanted to be out of the way, and not home. So I move to the office. The same office where weeks ago I’d teetered on the edge of a fatal decision and now was faced with the possibility of that decision made for me.

I slump in the seat and take a moment to just decompress. A headache creeps around my eyes and I just feel lost and hurt and alone.

When I break the laptop open again I move like a slug, scraping the barrel of effort and coming up with nil.

“Uh y/n?” Harry’s head pops into the door a while later.

“Yeah?” I blink up at him, still in slug mode.

He stares at me a second, “Do you have plans tonight? You could…join me in doing nothing?”

When was the last time I did nothing? I couldn’t remember. And it sounded like a distraction—not a good one, but one that helped me avoid home for longer.

“Sure?” I respond.

Harry blinks. “Oh. Brilliant. Finish what you’re doing if you’d like or you can join me now. Oh. Could you also order us some pizza or something that’s greasy and bad for us?”

I liked the direction of this. I feel my sluggish feeling slide away. “I can do that.”

“Good. Great. This is going to be a good night.”

He moves away as he talks and his last sentence is shouted from down the hall. I smile, relieved to do something like this.

I consider texting Gray, but decide against it. He left last night without a word, making me worried and today there’s been radio silence. I wasn’t in the mood to take the high road.

I do as Harry asks. Meanwhile Harry had put on some peppier music and brought out a six-pack from the fridge. His head is buried in the pantry rummaging through.

“What do you need?” I come up behind him.

“Oh,” he pops out. “Looking for some sweets. I’m sure I have some somewhere.”

“Oh yeah!” I close the doors he’s looking in and open the top cabinet. His eyes light up when he spots the options. “Food’s on its way by the way.”

He rubs his hands and starts pulling things off the pantry. It’s a different energy than any before, he’s not picking on me or ordering me around. He’s just inviting me to be on the ins with him. My instinct is to stay quiet and see where it goes but I shake it off.

“Are we just playing with beer tonight or is wine on the menu?” I ask. I hated the taste of beer.

“It could?” He unloads the pile in his arms onto the island and starts rummaging through the wines. “How about this one?”

A white. I take it from him and head for some glasses.

We end up making a buffet for ourselves on the coffee table and when the pizza comes we settle in, chatting occasionally about the things around us.

“So what does doing nothing involve?” I ask when we’re situated on the couch. Harry’s left a few feet of space between us which is very appreciated. I pull my feet up. “Because I have to say it’s been a while and I don’t know how to do nothing.”

He laughs, throwing his head back. I find myself grinning in response.

“Touché mon amie.”

“Okay I actually got that,” I nod.

“Do you speak french?” He asks as he opens the wine and pours us both a glass, mine’s a lot more full than his.

“No but I spent a month in Paris when I was in uni,” I savour the sour flavours of the wine as it coats my mouth and settles me down. “So I learned the bare minimum. Now all I can say is bonjour, ca beigne? And also un verre du vin s’il vous plait?”

“So you cut right to the chase—hey are you alright? A glass of wine thanks. Now leave me alone.”

We laugh and I hold up my glass, “I was hoping you’d get the hint. Why is mine so full anyway?”

“I’m just drinking some so you don’t have to drink it alone. Then I’m gonna crack on with the beer.”

“Oh!” There he had to go and be thoughtful again. “Forget it, I will happily drink the bottle. Drink whatever you want.”

“Yeah?” He leans forward to put his glass down.

I lean over and pour his measly amount into mine. “There, you’ve done the sharing part.”

“So y/n,” he asks after we’ve grabbed our respective snacks of choice. “Can I ask why you were listening to all those ballads before I came in?”

“I need to get a bit more drunk before I do that,” I down some more wine, already feeling the buzz of it. Obviously this was not the cheap wine I generally had.

“Alright we’ll get you there,” he promises. His eyes flicker from his phone to me and back to his phone. “Uhh could I show you something?”

“Like what?”

“We’re releasing the MV for one of my songs a week before I go on tour right.”

“Right,” I name the single that’s been thrown around countless times this week.

“I got back the deck for what it’ll look like. I’m excited can I show it to you?”

It’s endearing, in a way, how eager he is to show it. His cheeks even have spots of pink.

“Uh yeah! Let’s see it!”

“Cool,” he grins. He turns on the TV and casts whatever video is on his phone to the screen. He gives me some background on how it was setting up a whole storyline and how they’ve already started filming some of the scenes.

“The shooting starts the week after this one right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be in Scotland for a few days. You’re joining me right?”

“Yes! I’m excited to see all the action myself.” I had signed up for the 4-day trip with zero hesitation. As someone who’s always been making up stories and concepts to most music I listened to, getting to see the bts for an MV was a dream come true.

“Really?” He asks.

“Yeah, it’s real excitement I promise.”

“You’re interested in it?”

“Yeah! I love music videos, it creates a whole new experience for a song we’ve probably listened to on repeat. It’s cool!”

“So this is y/n really enthusiastic,” he leans back in the cushions to get me in full. “Now I really know you couldn’t give a rat’s arse about tour.”

“Stop saying that!” I laugh. “I was just stressed. I am excited about all of it okay?”

“So you say,” with a final glance he presses play and I’m entranced as the narration takes us through the plan.

“Umm all I can say is wow.” I turn to him when it’s done. My wine glass had been emptied and my brain had been itched with the most beautiful location and storytelling I’ve seen in a while. “That’s like a mini movie.”

“That’s what I said!” He exclaims. “It’s going to blow everything out of the water.”

“Look at us, doing nothing.” I realize we’d turned around and talked about work.

“Bollocks we’re no good at this.” Harry slides a hand down his face and I laugh at the dramatics. “Let me refill you at least.”

I happily oblige.

We talk about the mv some more, and move onto the tour. Harry asks me about the concerts I’ve been to and we get the kind of excited when you’re tipsy once we find out we were both at a Coldplay concert four years ago in London.

“That would’ve been before the success so I would have been just another bloke to you,” he notes.

“Yeah, imagine we crossed paths then? That would be crazy.”

“If we did, we might still be doing this tonight, just as mates,” he points to between us. “Or you would have fallen in love with me and I would have sacrificed my music to raise our kids.”

“What!?” It’s so absurdly ridiculous that I nearly snort my wine. “Where did that comes from!?”

“Admit it,” he puffs out his chest. “That would have happened. And I’d be so committed-“

“Well you’re assuming that in a 4 year time-span we would get to the point of having kids. So firstly no, secondly who said you had to sacrifice your career?”

“I-“ he stops mid-sentence, looking into the distance.

“Exactly!” I shout. “You’ve got nothing. You’ve just made up a story that makes you sounds good and noble!”

“Fine,” he settles down. “Fine! We never meet and you end up with your Duran bloke and I end up a musician.”

“Is that all I’m reduced to?” I raise my brow. “Who I’m with?”

“No!” He leans between us to pat my leg. It tingles. “No I didn’t mean it like that. You’ll do great things. I just mean the person you end up with isn’t superstar Harry Styles.”

I roll my eyes, “I need more wine if I’m gonna be subjected to any more of this bullshit.”

“Bullshit?!”

“Mhm,” I pop a gummy into my mouth and ignore the look of shock on his face.

“Fine. Then tell me about your bullshit,” he raises his can. “What’s happening to make you so ferocious this morning.”

Oh god. I hold up a finger and shimmy forward for some more wine. I’d drank 2/3 of the bottle and I was definitely tipsy. Maybe I’ll just sip this one.

“Fine. If you want to hear it.”

“I do.”

“I got into a fight with Gray.”

He raises a brow, I continue.

“He’s upset with me and complaining that I work a lot and that he feels like I’m his flatmate!”

“Flatmate with benefits.”

“Shut up!” I groan. “Not the point.”

“Sorry!” He holds his hands up.

“I don’t think he realizes how much of my head is just Gray like, I’m always thinking about him, about what I could do for him and say to him just to make sure he feels seen and reassured and loved! You know I’ve asked you for half-days on Saturdays when you don’t have a lot going on-“

“Mhm,” he nods along.

“I’m like, making sure I’m being a good partner. And apparently he’s been upset and not saying anything.”

“The old silent on the home front.”

“Yes!” I nearly drip wine as I pump my hand. “Yes, on the home front he’s bloody broody and quiet. I knew something was on his mind but like always he’s tight lipped. Even when I asked him a week ago he said he’s just been working a lot. What a liar!”

I complain about how it felt to be iced out of my partner’s emotions and having to guess all the time.

“Then I find out he’s been talking to all our friends to get advice.” Harry raises his brows in judgement and leans back into the sofa, and the small gesture makes me feel so validated. I didn’t realize how much I needed a third-party to just listen to my side of things. Until now, I’d literally not had anyone to talk to about this especially since I avoided talking about work with Gray. I get misty eyed.

“And when we’re talking he’s like so-and-so said this as if I want to know. And!” Now I was on a roll. I put my glass down in fear of spilling it on the pristine sofa and get on my knees to emphasize my frustration. “And the girl he quoted? Get this, I met her—Rebecca—at a job I did like a year ago? And we got along fabulously and I invited her to this party we threw right because she was new to the city and all that. She met my other friends and she fit in so well they invited her the next event. I got her into the group and now she’s talking shit about me with my fiancé behind my back!”

“She’s probably got a thing for your man,” Harry suggests.

“Oh she definitely does!” I’m animated as I continue. “She so does! I’ve caught her making eyes at him before, and laughing a lot whenever he makes a joke. I even mentioned it to him once but he said he didn’t notice.”

“He probably didn’t,” Harry shrugs.

“I know, the male species is a wonder. You get big flirts like you and then otherwise they’re completely oblivious.”

“I’ll have you know when I was a teen, a girl literally gave me a valentine cupcake and I just thought—well I knew she liked to bake, so I thought she just had extras. I didn’t understand why she didn’t speak to me the rest of the year.”

“No way,” I laugh—a lot because the wine was definitely sloshing around in my head, but also I couldn’t imagine Harry being that aloof. “I guess it comes with the ego territory. Were you less of a jerk as a kid?”

His jaw drops. “You just called me a jerk right now. To my face.”

“I did,” I say with glee. I stand to get the full picture of an offended Harry. “And I don’t regret it. So? Were you nicer as a kid?”

“No I’m not answering until you take that back.”

“What! You are a jerk…sometimes! I’m not taking it back!”

“You have to take it back otherwise I will cut you off on the wine.”

I take a step back and stumble as he speaks. Which makes me laugh more. “I think I should cut back. I am a hot mess.”

“At least you’re laughing,” Harry stands too. “It’s world’s different from this morning.”

Just like telling someone not to think of an elephant, I think of the elephant.

“Noo no don’t do that!” Harry rushes towards me and bends down to look me in the eye. “I liked it when you were smiling just now c’mon.”

“Well you reminded me why I was so upset-“

“Can’t stay grumpy, just give me another smile. One smile! Small teeny tiny smile—there it is!”

I can’t help it with his face in mine and the way he’s putting on a voice to get me to smile my face splits in a grin.

“You’re soooo annoying!” I push him but unstable and drunk I fall backwards.

I don’t know what happens next but I’m on the floor looking up into Harry’s concerned face.

“Y/n? Y/n!?”

“Yeah,” my head pounds as I try to make sense of where I am.

“Fuck,” I hear Harry say. He moves away and the overhead light attacks my eyes so I squeeze them shut.

I hear him, panicked, on the phone.

“No!” I try to call out. “M’fine! Don’t even worry-“

“Stay down Y/N,” he’s back by my side. I try to prove to him that I’m okay and sit up but a few inches off the ground and my head feels like it’s full of bees.

“So many bees,” I murmur as I go back down, now a pillow behind my head.

A few minutes later Harry’s helping me up gently. I tell him I wanted to throw up and he helps me to the toilet where I do. Gah. Why did I drink so much.

“I think I’ll head home now,” I hear myself saying to Harry like I was miles away.

“No,” his hands are around my shoulder and holding me upright as we walk out. The lift increases my nausea but I keep my eyes shut.

“I’m going home now,” I tell Harry when we get outside.

“No you’re getting checked out.”

“No!” I shove him away and nearly topple over myself. Why did he have to boss me around all the time? “Stop telling me what to do! My head hurts I’m going home!”

He tries to grab my hand but I yank it off. “Stop! Just stop!”

“Y/n,” Harry’s voice is low and comforting as he gets down in my ear. He smells nice too. “You passed out and you have a headache we have to get you checked out.”

“You’re no fun,” I cross my arms but follow him, only because my headache is so bad. As we get in the car I close my eyes shut as the lights assault them. Harry doesn’t let me sleep on the ride home even though his body is warm and steady beside me. I barely know where I am.

Harry’s POV:

I keep telling myself she would most likely be fine, just like the doctor reassured me but it’s hard not to beat myself up.

I shouldn’t have let her get that drunk, especially upset. I shouldn’t have gotten in her space and caused her to tumble back. I should have done something else.

The guilt is added to when I think of how I spoke to the doctor, demanding they do every scan and not to skip any. I hated who I became sometimes, when I pulled the famous card, but I thought it was necessary right now. Even y/n would give me a pass for using it.

I can’t stop replaying the thud as her head hit the hardwood floor, her eyelids fluttering as I rushed to her, her slack face when she lost consciousness for a moment.

It’s been hours since we came in. The doctor finally heads my way.

“Mr. Styles, your girlfriend is alright,” he holds up his hands before I’m fully standing.

I may have had to say she was my girlfriend after they wouldn’t let me have any say tonight…

“She’ll be alright, you did the right thing getting her here right away.”

“But?”

“No but,” he smiles. “Obviously it’s serious she has a moderate concussion but if she doesn’t exasperate any symptoms—takes it easy the next couple weeks, she’ll be right as rain. We can discharge her once the neurologist confirms. She’s just finishing with another patient right now-“

“She should stay overnight,” I cut him off. His cheeriness was starting to irritate me I felt like he wasn’t taking this seriously enough.

“Oh well,” he laughs but I know I’m irritating him right back. “She will be alright. I can provide you and her with a followup plan-“

“Doctor,” I say. “She’s staying overnight. If I need to rent a bed I’ll do that, tell me what I need to do, but she should stay under observation. Get the care she deserves.”

He pursues his lips, and I wait for him to agree.

“Yep,” he sighs. “I’ll tell the nurse. Just follow me and we can sort the details.”

We do that, I even take a selfie for the nurse’s daughter which grates on the doctor’s nerves even more. He leaves shortly after.

I get y/n’s room and walk there slowly, wondering how to apologize. Ever since December we’ve been playing a game of tennis with words and tonight I felt both of us relax onto the same note. Then this.

She’s sleeping when I get to her. My watch says 1am. She looks peaceful and it hurts even more.

The truth was despite acting like I didn’t, I did like Y/N but she was complicated, and the more I tried to untangle her web the more sticky things became for both of us. I didn’t want to make more mistakes than I have in the past so I’d kept my distance. Even if it hurt both of us.

Tonight was good though. Until it wasn’t. This was why I shouldn’t blur lines. You would think I’d have learned that by now.

I step by her bed, hesitating. Someone has wiped the remains of her makeup off and she looks so much younger. Like a sleeping cherub. My heart gives a squeeze.

I push back a strand of her hair, my hand wanting to do something. I settle for taking her hand in mine, it’s not the first time I’ve held it but like it always does, a flood of warmth rushes through me.

I never understood Victorian romances until her; just touching her hand got my blood pumping.

With a stroke of my thumb over her knuckles, she stirs. I freeze.

Her eyes flicker open, “Hey?”

My voice disappears. There’s too much that I want to say and nothing I’m allowed to say. Maybe a sorry. I open my mouth but she squeezes my hand. I forgot I was still holding hers.

“So much for doing nothing huh?” She cracks a smile and it breaks the marble I’d become encased in. I laugh and collapse onto the sliver of the bed.

“We should never do nothing again.”

“Nope,” she smiles, closing her eyes again.

“Y/N I’m really sorry for tonight. I feel awful-“

Her mouth parts. She was asleep.

I want to sit here with her until she wakes again, until the doctors kick us out. Something about seeing her so vulnerable here makes me want to confess the thing that’s been lodged in my chest for a long time.

I release her hand and move away from the bed. This was dangerous. Maybe I could wait in the waiting room until she’s released. Then take her home.

Something vibrates. It’s not my phone, and then I notice the purse I’d brought with us. Y/N’s.

I peek inside for the phone and her fiancé’s face takes up the screen. He looks younger. And then I remember, it’s like stepping out of the fog this night had put me in and into reality.

I pick up.

“Y/N it’s nearly 2 in the morning just tell me you’re alright? You haven’t been answering your texts I-“

“Hi,” I clear my throat and the line goes dead silent. I decide to continue. “Hey uh this is Harry. Styles. Uhm, don’t panic or anything because she is okay but she’s in hospital and-“

“What?” He comes back with a boom. “Why is she there what happened? Which hospital?”

I tell him which one, explain she bumped her head and I had to take her here. That the doctors said she would recover and be herself again soon. He simply swears and tells me he’d be there soon.

This was Y/N’s life. This was the right thing to do. Still, I stay in the room with my head in my hands and think about the whole evening again and again.

“Just tell me the bloody room…I don’t care about the time…”

The voice travels through as doors open and close in the hall and I look out. Grayson. Like a pitbull. I can see him through the rectangular window demanding to see Y/N.

I open the swinging doors and his nostrils flare as he spots me.

“Why the hell is he allowed in and not me?” He continues his tirade. “Does hospital policy not matter when it comes to the rich and famous now? I want to see her doctor and-“

The nurse turns to me, annoyed but before she can ask the question the doctor is out.

“What’s all this? Do you know the time sir, please follow me and we can talk-“

“I don’t want to fucking follow you. I want him gone and I want to see my fiancee.”

Looks are exchanged between the doctor and the nurse, finally landing on me. I imagine what they’re thinking—just another homewrecking famous rockstar, do we tell the fiancé or act cool?

“He should be able to see her,” I say in an even tone. I can feel the eyes on me, especially the laser beams from Gray.

“I thought-“

“Okay. Visitor pass him and let him in,” the doctor cuts his nurse off as she stares at me. Maybe her daughter wouldn’t get that photo tonight after all, and instead be told to pick better role models. It doesn’t matter to me. Not tonight.

I watch Gray get sorted, watch him walk down and to Y/N’s room. To his fiancée’s room.

I wonder how he feels, fighting with her last night just for y/n to end up here tonight. I wonder if that’s why he was so vocal tonight—the guilt.

But I suspected he was the kind of man that called himself easy-going and only got this raucous when another man was threatening his public image. It was pretty clear the hospital staff thought we had some pseudo-relationship arrangement. I don’t think Duran was daft enough to miss that.

Plus, I’d been the one to bring her here not him.

With a big sigh I take my phone out to call a taxi. It was my turn to go home.

I text Y/N from the car, tell her to rest over the weekend and let me know how she feels Monday morning. She could take the whole week off if she wanted but I also knew her and knew she would try to come back asap.

I try to piece back the marble armour I wore before tonight, it’s ill-fitting and hurts to get on but I do it anyway. This was why I couldn’t be the person Y/N wanted me to be; I tried to mix parts of my life together and it would only end with shite.

Y/N’s POV:

I don’t know who this man in front of me was. Or actually, I hadn’t seen him a long time.

I’d been discharged from the hospital on Saturday morning with odd looks all around. Maybe because Harry brought me in? And ever since, Grayson has been doting on me. Doting.

“Did you want anything specific?” Gray stands at the foot of the bed, asking me what he should make me for breakfast. The last time he made me a special breakfast was…last summer?

“I wouldn’t say no to pancakes?” I reply. “I looove your chocolate chip pancakes.”

“I’ll get it started,” he walks over to kiss my temple and leaves.

The weirdest part is that I feel weird; I don’t know why but Gray doting on me like this made me feel claustrophobic and…weird!

I look out the window to the overcast sky. Same, I think. At least for a Sunday, it felt fitting.

I pick up my phone and check the last response from Harry. Since I got discharged he’d been texting me to see how I was feeling. I think he was feeling guilty even though I told him it wasn’t his fault.

I tried not to drink when I was upset because back in uni it led to some shitty situations but the other night I’d overstepped my rule and done this anyway. And paid for it. I should have known better. And after the absolute misery of yesterday’s aftermath—the migraine and the vertigo and the completely lack of appetite, I don’t think I’ll be doing that again. Ever.

Today I feel a lot better. I still have a headache and I’m looking forward to breakfast with my painkiller, but the light doesn’t hurt as much and the nausea only comes back when I do too much.

You: I’ll be back in no time. Feeling better

Harry: I want you to feel the best so I’m banning you from working until Wed. And that’s conditional on you feeling better

Y: Doc said I can resume a lowkey version of my life after 48hrs

H: I didn’t like that doc. take my advice instead

Y: when did you get your md

H: same time you got yours

Y: I have an md?

H: being stubborn 101

Y: your jokes are a lot better when you text

H: cuz you’re not distracted by my face

Y: ooookay I’m no longer giving you the platform byeee

He was sassy, apparently. I never got this side of him before.

I read through the convo again and smile. But it hits me that it sounded like flirting. And that would be incredibly inappropriate. So I shove my phone in my bedside drawer and inch out of bed to join Gray.

We spend the day talking about a lot, but not about what we should talk about. Which, with the way I was feeling, was fine by me. At the same time it felt like we were both politely playing a role neither of us could put our hearts into. It felt shitty.

Gray has a session around 4 and I crawl back into bed, putting on a romcom I’ve watched a million times for comfort.

My body feels heavy and it has nothing to do with the concussion. The last couple days and my current relationship with Gray casts a shadow over my thoughts. I felt like making any decision was like wading through quicksand and running away just sounded better.

I rub my temples, hoping like a genie’s lamp, I could get an omnipotent spirit cast out and grant me easy wishes. I’d wish for things to go back to normal, for my heart not to be such a wretched thing. For clarity.

I pick up my phone and scroll to the one person I had run away from and have missed since. I didn’t talk to her very often but I thought I could use her no-nonsense approach.

My mom frets when I tell her what had happened. She goes quiet as I tell her I’d gotten drunk to forget about the troubles in my relationship.

“Relationships go through a lot of phases. It’s like going through those cave tunnels all made of rock and you gotta squeeze really tight sometimes just to fit through and continue on.”

“That is an amazing comparison mom, but I don’t know if this is one of those times. It feels like Gray’s already given up on us.”

“Well it’s been a long time he’s waited.”

“But he never said. He never talked to me.”

She sighs. “Your Grayson sure is a contemplative son of a bitch isn’t he?”

I laugh a little too hard and feel a pulse in my head. “I know. But then today he was so dang sweet—since I got home. He was so overprotective. And he made me breakfast mom and it made me realize I haven’t had that Gray in a long time.”

She’s silent on the other end. She knew there was more. How did I ever think, as a teen, my mom didn’t understand me? I think I just never understood her.

“But it felt weird.” I continue. “I feel horrible for saying it but I felt weird!”

“Was there heart?” She asks gently.

There wasn’t.

That’s what it was. And my heart weeps. All those actions without feelings.

“Have you thought about coming home?” Mom asks when the silence stretches. She always asked and I was the worst daughter in the world for never going back. The last time was when I graduated, for 2 weeks in which my family drove me crazy and I had been crazy in love with Gray and eager to get back to him.

“Maybe,” I close my eyes and slide down into bed.

“Your brother’s new girlfriend reminds me of that friend you had where she came on our camping trip and cried the whole time? What was her name?”

“Deanna? Mom I stayed friends with her all through high school! She was just very anxious.”

“I know! His girlfriend’s always darting about, jumping at tiny things. Reminds me of her.”

“Well Jace better be treating her right.”

“He does,” mom’s voice raises. “You should see them together. It’s cute but they’re still teenaged loves so I try not to break his bubble too much.”

Mom had definitely relaxed a lot since I was a teen. She had practically chased my first boyfriend away.

“Remember your first boyfriend?” She asks and I shout how I was remembering that too. We end up talking about old memories, and I feel a little more known and a little less lonely when I hang up.

Gray and I order takeout and I try to watch a movie with him but the strain on my eyes gets too much. I tell him I was going to bed and insist that he stays and finishes. I didn’t feel like watching him play boyfriend.

I’m eager to get back to work, for next week when I can go to Scotland for the MV. The eagerness comes from guilt but I carry both as I fall asleep.

***

I feel like a kid at Disneyland. Or maybe a Disney adult. Either way, I’m blown away getting to watch this MV come to life.

It’s long hours, a lot of waiting, and some shouting. But everything else is magic.

I came back to work last Thursday and other than an ear-splitting headache on the flight and a low-grade one when I stared at a screen too long, I was on my way to normal. When I got back to work Harry kept making excuses for me so I could work from the office but I refused to be treated differently and eventually he relented.

“It’s so freaking cold!” I jump up and down beside Harry by the cliffside. He’s just wrapped up a scene and the crew was taking a look at the footage to see if they needed anything more in this spot.

“Why don’t you put on more layers? Do you want an extra coat the crew might have-“

“No!” I continue wriggling around. “I’m heading back to the car in a few. This is an amazing view.”

“Isn’t it,” Harry turns to the sea that’s churning away much like my own heart these days. It feels calming to see it physically somewhere else.

We stand in silence except for my occasional teeth chattering and stare out to the view.

“Have you seen more of it?” Harry motions to the cameras. “What do you think?”

On this trip I’ve been giving my honest opinion, and I know I’ve offended Harry at least once but I didn’t come all the way here for my dream experience only to stroke his ego.

I tell him my take. We talk about the overall storyline about belonging and sacrifice until we’re interrupted with two hands holding out hot teas.

“You both looked cold,” the woman says. She was another assistant on set and I’m not sure what to do being waited on as a PA myself.

“Oh, thank you!” I make sure she knows I appreciate it. “That’s…that’s super kind thanks!”

She throws us both a smile and I stare at my cup, the heat tingling on my cold fingertips.

“Friendship and belonging yeah,” Harry starts up again.

“Yeah but also I like how you—your character, whatever, knows when it’s time to leave for his better growth. Sacrifice with his friend and sacrifice with the only home he’s known. Plus that’s a comfortable outfit.”

I tap a button on Harry’s jumpsuit. He grins. “You can have it.”

“I would be drowning in that you’re a lot taller.”

“We can have it altered,” he says. A shiver runs through me at we. I blame it on the cold.

I sip the tea now that it’s not scalding and find it’s a lot cooler. The open air, I guess.

“So you really love all this,” Harry says. “You weren’t joking about that excitement.”

“No I told you!” I flash to the night we did “nothing” which feels long ago. “I have a vivid imagination when it comes to music and I spent any spare courses on film so now I can interpret the heck out of any song and music video like my life depends on it.”

“We should get you back there,” he motions to the crew. “Get you on board.”

“Would I get the little clipboard and clapper?”

“Yeah!”

“Goals,” I sigh.

Little did I know, by Saturday as we’re filming our final scene one of the crew members hands me the clapper. He tells me I’m supposed to cut the final scene. I stare at him, thinking I misheard.

The clapboard hangs between us. He shakes it a little and I take it. It’s heavier than I thought.

“Harry asked if you can cut for the final scene, see the man behind the camera? He’ll look to you and give you the nod. Then you step in front and just do the thing.”

“Oh…” I’m still staring at the thing in my hand. My palms feel sweaty like it’s going to crash to the ground and break in two but that thought gets me to hold it closer. “Thanks.”

“Yep,” the guy walks away and I stare at the scene being filmed. Slowly I walk closer to the cameraman and he glances at me, notices the clapper, and smiles holding up two fingers.

He whispers something to someone beside him and they change the lighting. Harry walks off “screen” and I try to catch his eye to show him what I had. We catch it briefly and he winks before walking back onto the screen.

Oh my god! My heart is racing as I hold it in my hands. I had to chill. Or I’m gonna make a mess of things. It’s just a clapperboard and you’re saying one word!

Two minutes. I manage to calm down enough and when I get the signal I step in front of the camera and, as I see it later on, with the biggest grin on my face I clap down and yell “cut!”

Harry lets out a whoop and the crew cheers as the filming wraps up. I’m sure my eyes are wide as saucers as I go to Harry. He puts an arm around me and pulls me in, laughing because I tell him my heart is racing and how does he do tours when just that made me shaky.

“It gets easier,” we walk now with his arm around my shoulder. “One day you’ll be behind the camera shouting at me to move places.”

“Oooh getting to boss you around and get paid for it?” I look up at him and my breath catches because he’s handsome at every bloody angle. “Sign me up.”

He let me go and gives me a few tsks. Then he gets his phone and tells me to pose with the clapper and I do it happily. The picture shows a grinning girl with pure delight on her face.

“I’ll put that as your contact photo right,” Harry says as he gets into a jacket. “And that way at least when you call me with bad news I get to see a smile beforehand.”

“Har har,” I roll my eyes but I don’t hate the idea.

A lot of the crew decide to go out for drinks and dinner and Harry passes but I decide to go. I’d met some friendly faces and I would miss working with them, miss the overall energy, when we got back to London.

As I fall asleep that night, full and content, I realize I hadn’t texted Gray all day. I wake to check my phone and see he’d sent a text a few hours ago.

Sorry I was out for lunch with the crew. Babe it was sooooo fun I can’t wait to show you pictures when I get home.

I read the rest of his message asking how I was. I tell him my headache was gone and ask him about his week but I’ve fallen asleep before he can respond.

***

The morning I have to leave for tour I wake up way too early. Too much nervous excitement. I’d already brushed and checked my luggage was packed before crawling back into bed waiting for Gray to wake.

I watch him sleep, my eyes following the familiar contours of his face. We’d been making an effort at rebuilding the relationship since we agreed we at least had to give it a try after I got home from Scotland a month ago. On one hand it feels like starting a new relationship and also breathing easier because we were both on the same page. On the other, we’d finally started planning the wedding!

I would miss him, nearly 3 weeks away which is the longest we’ve been apart since we got together. Then I’d be home for 2 weeks, and away for the last week before Harry finishes with a couple shows in London. It was going to be epic and crazy as exhausted as I’ve been.

I huddle close to Gray and he stirs slightly but I kiss his neck to wake him.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his sleep.

“Morning,” I press another kiss to his face.

“What time?” He moves his head to kiss me back.

“Hmmm half past 7?”

He grumbles about it being so early but it stops shortly after with both of my legs on either side of him and my hair curtaining our faces.

“M’gonna miss your snooty face,” I say with another kiss. He finally opens his eyes and his hand comes up to hold my chin.

“I’ll be the one here missing you.”

“I’ll call every chance I get.”

“You’ll get to see so many new cities,” he says.

“Barely but I’m gonna try to make the most of it,” the travel schedule was hectic but I know there were a couple slower days I could use to explore cities. If I wasn’t completely exhausted.

“You’ll have a lot of fun,” he pushes my hair behind my ear.

“Remember Josie’s coming this weekend to stay the week.” Gray’s sister had taken the opportunity of a semi-empty flat to stay here while she studied for mid-terms. I had encouraged it so Gray felt less lonely.

“She’s gonna drive me crazy,” he huffs.

“Just behave,” I warn him.

“I don’t know how,” he smiles, rolling us around so he’s on top and showing me what misbehaving means. I don’t mind it a bit.

After a quick shower together we head out to the airport, Harry offered to pick me up on his way but I wanted to make sure I spent as much time with Gray as possible so he doesn’t feel like I was leaving him like before. I hoped he knew, at least, the effort I was making.

***

Stockholm, Hamburg, Oslo, and Copenhagen in one week. It was exhilarating and exhausting and hectic and so fulfilling.

I had seen Harry at small shows before but on the big stage he has a presence with a capital P. It’s amazing watching him perform and dance and be charming all over. He could be cheeky yet command the crowd at the same time. And despite all these sides he’s never inauthentic.

For the first time I’m able to take somewhat of a backseat. He already had his manager, tour manager, stylist, and tour chef with him to manage most aspects I would regularly. I became sort of an extra hand when I wasn’t having sit-down hours. That’s what I called the times I was sitting on the laptop sorting out future timelines for Harry’s life (and my wedding).

But I loved it. I’d pick a cafe close to our hotel and spend a few hours working. I’d call Gray during these times and if he was free we’d catch up on all I saw and he’d share stories with me until Josie crashed the conversation with stories of her own.

My eye bags require more concealer than usual and my body begs for nutrition but otherwise I love every second.

I’m back from my sit-down hours and get off the lift. Harry and his team were placed in the same hotel just down the hall from each other. As I approach my own door one of Harry’s band mates rushes out of his door looking stressed.

“He’s in a mood,” she huffs. “Don’t go in there.”

“Did something happen?” I ask.

She shrugs, “he gets this way. Usually at the start of tour I don’t know why. Kinda snappy just…give him space.”

I do as she says but the next morning as we wait to board our early flight to Paris he continues to be a dick to everyone.

“Maybe take a nap on the flight Haz,” one of his bandmates suggest. “We’re all bloody tired don’t be such a grump.”

“I don’t need a bloody nap stop treating me like a child.”

“What to do when you act like one.”

“You know what-“

“Woah hey c’mon.”

I startle at the commotion, I was starting to doze off but Harry rushing out of his seat and someone else stepping between him and Mitch wakes me entirely.

“Let’s stand there get some space.” Niji recommends.

Everyone follows the group away and it’s Harry, myself, and my bag left.

He glances at me, “Don’t you start too.”

“I wasn’t…”

“I could see it in your face.”

“What the hell? I was just napping I don’t even know what’s going on except that you really are being a dick.”

“There you go!” He points. “I knew you wanted to say it.”

“Guess I’m joining the others…” I pick up my bag and walk to everyone else. They’re all venting their frustrations for Harry and comfort me that he was an asshole to everyone.

It gets worse on the flight when our pilot announces we couldn’t land in Paris.

“What’s going on?” I ask our hostess.

“The weather, we apologize for the inconvenience folks but there is high winds and a lot of fog so it’s not safe to fly.”

“I have a show tonight,” Harry stands and starts to advance on the poor woman. “I need to be in Paris before 4 where are we landing?!”

“Sir we’ll be landing in the Lille airport. This is good because we’re only a few hours from the city-“

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry runs his hand through his hair.

“I understand,” the woman looks back at me and I nod, letting her know I got it.

“Harry we’ll only be delayed by a few hours-“

“I don’t have time for a few hours. We need to set up and run tests in Paris! We were supposed to be there yesterday but somebody booked the wrong shit!”

It was true, his tour manager had booked us for Monday morning rather than Sunday morning but at the time it hadn’t been a big deal since the show was 7 on Monday and we got an extra day to relax. Now it made things more stressful.

“Fuck this,” Harry mutters. The other members on the plane roll their eyes and put on headphones, sighing and looking out the window. It was obvious to everyone but Harry that this was just a minor setback.

I decide to be the idiot who enters the lion’s cage. Harry sits in the back of the plane jiggling his leg and trying to connect his phone to service.

“Are you trying to call Morgan?” I ask.

“No I’m trying to call the pope.”

“He might be sleeping.”

He looks up at me and if I wasn’t aware of how stressed he was I would laugh. Confused doesn’t even cover his expression.

“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to get to the show-“

“We have like a five hour wiggle room it’s just a minor-“

“I can’t perform thrown off like this!”

“There’s no reason to be thrown off!” I try to keep my volume contained but I can feel eyes on my back.

“I don’t need you right now just go.”

“So I guess the one week rule is true.” I mutter.

“What’s that?” He asks with an i-dare-you expression.

“I said the one week rule of you being an asshole on tour, I guess that was true. I wish someone told me I would have skipped it.”

“Well you could have skipped the whole thing and nobody would notice.”

His comeback is muttered but cuts like a machete and I feel like the words were physically slung at me. I stand there stunned, my heart sinking as he continues to fiddle with his phone until the call connects.

The shock wears off quickly leaving me with the familiar heat of anger. This was how I reacted to Harry and his dickish ways. How dare he? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to treat me like this when he wanted? I clench my fist as his voice rises with Morgan.

But beneath the anger is a raw hurt, his words struck a nerve. The same one Gray had struck once. I was replaceable, and all the efforts I’ve put into my career were unimportant and unappreciated.

I snatch the phone from Harry, annoyed at hearing him talk at Morgan.

“Hey Morgan it’s Y/N, yeah it’s a minor inconvenience but if you can get a bus or something to the airport it should be…”

I look to the hostess and she flashes me two fingers and a shake of her hand.

“About 2 hours to get into the city.” I finish. I nod along to Morgan’s questions and repeat details back. “Yeah just text me on my phone, not Harry’s. We’ll sort this out.”

“Thank you y/n. I’m really glad you’re there today.”

The words are a feather on a pile of nails, it’s nice to hear but Harry’s cruel words still ring in my ear.

I hand the phone back to him, expecting a thank you or an apology, but he just takes it and slinks down in his seat.

“It’s her isn’t it?” Sarah gets up on her seat on her knees to look back at Harry. I pause as I walk up the aisle. Is was who?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry mutters with his eyes glued to his screen.

“It is,” someone else says.

“Who?” Claire asks.

“Don’t take his mood personally,” Sarah says to me. “Paris is a touchy city for him.”

“Do you guys ever shut up?” Harry asks.

“No that’s why we’re your crew,” Mitch responds.

“We understand,” Sarah continues. Who was she talking about!? “Just don’t take it out on us. It’s not nice.”

Harry doesn’t respond but I sense a deflating happening on his side. Sarah’s words had gotten through to him but they’d just made me super curious.

I get filled in as we wait at the airport for our bus—Morgan had saved the day.

I hear about Harry’s french lover and how he got his heart broken a couple years ago. How the last time they were in France he had disappeared for a day and they’re all sure he visited her. How he can’t go to Paris without getting in a mood, either because he doesn’t get to see her or he’s anxious about seeing her.

“That’s like a city-specific booty-call.”

“Kinda,” Sarah laughs. “But I think he grew really attached to her so it’s a bit—he’s coming back.”

Harry stomps back to where we are, a tray of coffee in his hands. His team accepts it without a word. The world’s most famous non-verbal apology.

I watch him wearily. I still wanted a verbal apology from him, was that crazy? What he said was deeply hurtful. And hearing about his French lover makes me feel a way that I don’t like so I shut it out. I stick to the anger instead. It was easier.

He starts to warm up as we board the bus, cracking jokes with his band. I pick a seat near the front and stay there with my headphones. Aside from answering Morgan’s texts I pretend to be asleep. Eventually I do.

Someone flicks my hat, “C’mon sleepyhead! We’re in the city of love.”

“Wha?” There’s a crick in my neck and I feel rusty. But Harry’s right, we’d landed in Paris. He hovers above my seat with a jovial smile but it dies the longer I don’t return it. Serves him right. He doesn’t get to be cruel and wipe it away with coffee and a joke.

He gets the hint and boards off. I grab the last of the bags and join the group in the lobby where Morgan greets Harry like his long lost son.

“The trials aren’t over just yet,” he cringes. “I don’t know why Paris keeps fucking with me but we’re booked tight for rooms.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asks.

“Uhm well,” Morgan clears his throat. “The hotel overbooked. We have 3 rooms between the 8 of us. Luckily I have a mate who lives in town so I’ll crash at his. The rest of you need to share.”

“Morgan you’re fucking with me,” someone groans.

“No I’m sorry. I booked 5 with an en-suite but they screwed up. They’re refunding us half—I fought for that at least. I can use that to put others in another hotel if you’d like but so far I’ve only managed one room with two doubles.”

“Claire and I can share,” Sarah says.

“Good, Mitch you good with the boys?”

“I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Uh y/n…would you like me to book you an extra room somewhere? I don’t want you to be far from the team-“

“She’ll stay with me.” Harry says. “I’m performing tonight and then we’re moving to Amsterdam tomorrow afternoon so…”

I squirm a little as all eyes fall to me. Cool. Casual. “Sure.”

“Sorted! Let’s get these bags up and out of the way. I’ll have a car waiting down here in a half hour so you can all freshen up and meet me again.”

We trudge along and get off on our respective floors.

“The truth is,” Harry says as we scan ourselves into our room. “I’m probably not even gonna use the bed for the night so it’s all yours.”

“Oh,” I look around the room. It’s got a french touch and a lush queen in the middle. I could deal with not having to share it. I’m sure my fiancé back home would be happier too. Even though I want to ask why I don’t. “Okay.”

We settle our things in silence and a part of me wants to break it and start talking about the ride and Paris but I’m still not over his earlier behaviour so I continue giving the bare minimum. He doesn’t seem to care.

We head off for tests and I end up falling asleep in one of the booths. The tiredness was really creeping up. I could sleep through all the noise the band was making.

A particularly loud screeching from feedback wakes me up. I look down to the group, everyone’s mostly broken up while tech crew tapes down some wires and connects equipment. Harry sits on the edge of the stage, swinging his feet and texting away at his phone. He’s different from the grump this morning. He’s lighter.

Charlie catches me looking and waves, I wave back. There’s a pit in my stomach that grows heavier as the day passes into night.

Paris is not the loudest but super engaged. Everyone has some reference to Harry adorned on their clothing or their face and I can tell Harry has a special connection to the group.

“And finally,” Harry says into the mic. “This is a special song for my French friends. Tonight has been a blessing and I want to merci beaucoup for showing up!”

The crowd cheers as the intro to his song comes on. I listen to the lyrics for the first time since hearing the song last year and connect the dots to what Sarah said earlier. Maybe this was the girl. Maybe this was why he wasn’t sleeping at the hotel tonight.

As we’re leaving the venue and I’m going through a mental list of everything we could have forgotten, we spot a familiar face around back.

“Riley?” Mitch spots him first. “Is that you mate?”

“Hey,” Riley like, Harry’s old assistant Riley is standing with a couple other people who are having a smoke. He squashes his and greets the band who apparently still feel fondly when it comes to him. He looks the exact same but my feelings towards him are curdled after knowing what he’s like and how he left us high and dry.

That leaves Harry and I still hovering by the entrance alone, staring at the reunion by the time Riley comes up to us. I guess the band knew his friends because they get to chatting. I remember then, Riley ditched Harry to work for one of his friends. Must be a small world.

“Why the long face you two, c’mon still not holding a grudge are we?”

“Riley,” Harry addresses him. I stay silent, watching Riley from where I stand behind Harry.

“Nice to see Y/N’s still sticking around. How are you liking tour life?”

“Did you come to the show?” I find my voice.

“Yeah,” he nods all friendly like this was casual and he’s done nothing wrong ever. “I might be biased because I worked for the guy but Harry Styles is one of my top artist. And I’m in Paris until the Fall so why not come support him.”

“Well,” Harry says in the same deadpan voice. “Thanks for the support Riley.”

Riley glances over at him, smug. He knows he’s annoying Harry. So maybe I wasn’t the only one who got enjoyment out of doing that.

“Oh c’mon you’re still upset with me jumping ship? It’s been months! Y/N we’re cool right-“

Riley moves to walk past Harry and to me but Harry side-steps to stay in his way. I look at Harry. So does Riley, confusion sliding away to amusement.

“Oh I see,” he steps back, arms crossed. “Harry you sly dog you did it again.”

“We’re going now,” Harry says. “Try not to show up at any other shows.”

Harry tried to leave and I take the few steps to follow but Riley starts again.

“So y/n you fell for his trick too? I’m disappointed I thought you were immune.” Riley continues. “How’d he get you to the bedroom? Lots of booze? Or did you not even make it to the bedroom? Was it being treated like shit that did it for you?”

“What?” Now in the middle, I look between the two, wondering how this conversation took such a bizarre turn.

“You have some obsession with me Riley?” Harry steps back towards us. “Because you sure enjoy making up stories in your head with me starring in it. Don’t rope y/n into them either.”

“Not all stories,” Riley stays smug. “Some of them I’ve seen with my own eyes.”

They had to be talking about the last PA. The story Riley told me. Which means he thinks I…

“You really should watch what you talk about,” Harry reminds him.

Riley turns his attention to me, “Y/N I thought I warned you good enough. But I guess you put out as easily as the last one.”

“Riley whatever drama you’re trying to-“

“Mate,” Harry gets in Riley’s face so he can’t even look at me. I go quiet. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I get security to kick you out permanently.”

“Being the knight in shining armour doesn’t really suit you Haz,” Riley says. With one final judgemental look thrown my way he walks away. I have to lay a hand on Harry’s arm just to keep him from lunging at him but as soon as my hand makes contact he brushes me away.

This whole interaction was ego-bruising. “Why did he think-“

“Ignore him.” Harry cuts me off, his back still to me. His band, having watched the final scene unfold, now awkwardly shuffles back to us. “You okay?”

“Yeah but why-“

“Good.”

He cuts me off from asking anything and I don’t get to push because the group tries to defuse the situation by changing the subject. That includes the girls inviting me for drinks at their favourite parisian place. Harry disappears and so do those answers.

I try to poke whether the girls at dinner knew anything about his last PA but they barely met her. So I’m forced to eat oysters when they find out I’d never had them and the subject changes quickly to new and other things.

“So oysters thumbs up or down?” I’m asked as I slowly eat another.

“Weird texture…ehh?” I hover my thumb in the middle.

“Well too bad your partner—what’s his name again?” They ask. I tell her. “Ooh good name. Too bad Grayson isn’t here to cash in on all these oysters.”

They laugh and I think I’m not drunk enough to laugh as much with.

It’s the wee hours of the morning by the time we get back to the hotel. I crash alone as soon as my head hits the pillow.

***

After three weeks of tour I’m ecstatic to get back home. I wanted to sleep in the same bed for more than a day, I wanted a shower with even temperature, and I wanted a home-cooked meal.

And I wanted Gray.

I even catch an earlier flight—the night before rather than the next morning. I build up surprising Gray so much that I end up being the one who’s surprised when I come home to an empty flat.

I double check I’d set my phone back to the right time but it’s nearly 11. He must be out with friends, not a client.

I want to call him but still hold the idea of a surprise so I take a shower instead, put a load of laundry in, and make myself a sandwich. I crawl into bed at 1, still no Gray.

I end up tapping through our friends’ stories and find him in one. At least I knew where he was. But 2/3 photos I can find of him, Bex is standing too close for comfort.

I can tell by the photos there’s nothing going on. From his end. The most contact they have is his arm around her shoulder but for some reason all of this makes me mad. I’d broken it down to him that he couldn’t talk with people who had a thing for him because they would only give biased advice. But he didn’t listen. He said I was reading into it too much. And here she was, gazing up at him in every damn photo.

I hate that I wasn’t even home for a couple hours and already found something to annoy me.

I must have fallen asleep shortly after because I wake to poking on my side.

“Y/n? Is that really you? Y/n? Y/n?”

Gray.

“Hi,” I turn in bed. “I’m home early.”

“Shit!” He stands and sways back slightly. Wow, he was pissed. I hadn’t seen him this inebriated in a hot minute. “You didn’t say!”

“I know I-“

“I thought I imagined you.”

“Nope all here,” I grit my teeth. Why was I annoyed at my boyfriend for having a life, I scold myself.

Why is he so drunk and is this a new thing or did he only get this way cuz I’m not around?

“You finally came back to me,” he slurs. He smells like a brewery as he climbs into bed and I wish I could force a shower on him but I get swept up in his arms. “Hey you were right by the way.”

“About?”

“About.”

“Gray! What was I right about?”

“I’m getting to it! You. Were right. About Bex.”

“H-how do you know?” Weird coincidence. Or not?

“Sheshe she tried to kiss me!” He falls back laughing in bed. “I said nooo cuz I have a fiancée. Y/N. Oops. She was maaad.”

My heart drops. I knew it. That little bitch! And she had to go and try to kiss my man when he’s drunk! I officially didn’t like her. And the story itself adds to my irritation.

“Wow. Crazy. I’m tired as hell so I’m going to bed.”

I turn and leave my back to Gray. I didn’t want to see him this drunk, this chill about someone I warned him about trying to kiss him.

He splays on the bed where he is, draping an arm over me and pretty soon I hear his even breathing. That annoys me too, that he could fall asleep so quick. His arm is a weight over my body and I feel like I’m sinking into the bed and out of view.

***

It’s like Grayson and I have forgotten how to live with each other.

What starts out as minor annoyances turn into bickering pretty quickly. Our 1 bedroom flat begins to feel cramped and I desperately try to cling onto the idea of us because I can’t fathom us fizzling out like this but my fingernails are raw from scraping threads.

Work is the easiest it’s been in a while. With no set working hours I just spend a few hours everyday doing admin and running errands. Otherwise, unless somebody calls me I’m free.

I thought it would be great. So much free time with Gray, we could continue planning the wedding and catch up again. But he busies himself with work, and when we go on dates he doesn’t make much of an effort to talk. It’s like getting to know him all over again except he’s a broodier version of himself. It makes me mad and I end up picking fights.

I book brunch with some of the girls on the last Saturday I’m home, thinking it might help to have space from Gray and see other people. I thought everything would be fine. And it is, on a surface level—they treat me perfectly normal.

Except the only time they gave me space to talk about myself went something like this,

“So Y/N how are you? Busy touring how is that?”

“Oh yeah it was great! Really taxing but fulfilling too. I went to so many cities I haven’t visited even though I’ve been in London for like 7 years? Copenhagen was one of my fave-

“Ooh. Yeah I really want to visit Copenhagen this summer.”

“Oh I love Copenhagen…”

And I was officially asked out of sharing my own life. The rest of brunch was me reacting to everyone else’s stories and having the subject change quickly after I brought up anything about myself. When I mentioned Gray casually, I could feel the judgement. It’s like they were waiting on me to complain about him so they could pounce. It’s a weird and tiring energy.

As we all say our goodbyes I manage to catch Rebecca alone.

“Hey Bex,” I stop her on the edge of the group. “I know we haven’t talked much lately but I just want to say I don’t appreciate the moves you’re making on Gray.”

She raises a brow, “moves?”

“He told me you tried to kiss him. Those kinds of moves.”

Her face pinches. “Well someone has to make some.”

“Excuse me?” She tries to walk away but I rush to step in front of her.

“It’s no secret you and Gray are on the road to a breakup,” she has the audacity to look judgey in that moment and I want to slap the look off her face.

“What the fuck do you know about me and Gray? Back. Off.”

“Hey what’s going on?” One of our other friends drifts towards us and I notice they’re all looking our way.

“Just a friendly chat,” I say with sarcasm you can’t miss. At the same time Bex responds, “Y/n’s being delusional.”

I was going to get physical, I step back towards her but our friends get between us. I think they knew uni me, and knew I wasn’t afraid of confrontation.

“What the fuck y/n?” I was so tired of the look on their faces, like I was crazy.

“She tried to kiss Gray!” I reveal. “Last week! I’m just telling her to back off and I have every right to!”

It’s news to them. They turn to Bex who’s fidgeting with her sweater as a flush creeps up her neck.

“I-I he did! He tried to kiss me!”

I snort, “I don’t have time for your bullshit Rebecca. I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh yeah we all know you don’t have time y/n, you’re so busy these days.”

“Bex!” Someone scolds her.

“Somebody better teach her hand to keep her hand over her mouth because I will get through all of you if it means getting to her. You know you guys don’t know shit about my life. And you don’t even care to these days! Just because Gray told his sob side you guys treat me like-like shit!”

“That’s not true-“

“It is! You don’t even know my side! And I don’t care to explain because you lot are supposed to be our friends, not the judge and jury of my relationship.”

They stare blankly at me and nobody denies it so I continue: “I try so hard to stay involved in your lives knowing I can’t make it to half of our parties, I’m always messaging you guys and trying to stay on top of your socials to know what’s going on in your lives. I feel like I make all the effort and I’m just made the pariah.”

It feels good getting it off my chest. It feels amazing. I feel like I’m breathing an actual lungful of air now.

“We’re sorry if we made you feel that way.” I look at who’s said this. One of my oldest friends from uni. I scoff.

“You’re sorry if you made me feel that way?! I just said you did!”

“Sorry,” she says, quieter.

“Y’know it’s…it’s disappointing. I thought, when we became best friends first year of uni nothing could shake the bond we had. Apparently a man you met 3 years ago who vented to you about your best friend was just the thing.” All their faces are small and nobody makes eye contact with me. “Anyway, I do have to go. I have an appointment. Let’s not do this again.”

I walk away, proud of myself for saying what I had to and getting it off my chest. For sticking up for myself.

But the farther away I get, the more the adrenaline crashes through me and I end up walking onto the tube on shaky legs and collapsing in my seat. The reality of what’s happened falls into my lap and I see a bunch of burned bridges.

I spend a couple extra hours out after my appointment. I’m not going anywhere in particular, I let my feet carry me through the city as my mind continues to whir.

Harry texts me, asking me to stop by his place before I fly back for tour tomorrow evening. Apparently the concierge needed all his mail picked up and he needed a few of the items. It annoys me that he waited last minute to ask.

When I get home at 4, Gray’s vacuuming the flat. He stops it when I come in.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How was brunch?”

It’s the way he asks. I know he knows. Which means a group chat exists with our friends and him without me. It feels like another betrayal. Who keeps their partner out deliberately? Who opens up their relationship like a hockey net, open for anyone to take shots at?

“Why’re you asking?” I feel another fight coming.

“I can’t ask you how brunch went?”

“Did you hear something? Let me guess, did Bex snitch?”

“No, chill out why would Bex snitch?”

“Grayson,” I look at him deadpan. “Don’t bullshit me. If you have any respect for me, which I know now is not a lot, don’t bullshit me.”

He sighs but doesn’t say anything more. Doesn’t lie and doesn’t tell the truth.

“So?” I ask. “Is there like a group chat or something?”

“Let’s just drop it-“

“No! I’m not dropping this when you brought it up. So is there? Did you disrespect me in front of all our friends by talking shit, and then do it even more by allowing them to ice me out in a group chat you knew I wasn’t part of?”

He doesn’t respond. My temper flares.

“The hurtful part isn’t even not being part of the chat, it’s that you didn’t tell me.”

It makes sense now. I was always initiating birthday messages there or privately, thinking everyone was forgetting to wish each other. Now I know I was public fool number one keeping that convo alive when they were probably all wishing each other elsewhere. God. I was an idiot!

“Look I’m sorry y/n, after you stopped showing up to things they just made a new one so they don’t bother you.”

“Oh is that why? Because that was active up until a few months ago. So according to the timeline it was probably when you fucked up and talked shit about me to all our friends and they decided I was a bitch and they should all cancel me! Well I hope you’re happy Gray!”

“I’m not! I’m sorry I didn’t realize-“

“Stop!” I slam my hand into the wall and it hurts harder than I anticipated but I bite back the pain. “Just admit it! You want to paint me as the bad guy so fucking hard, and I am in some ways I know I’m far from perfect Gray! But instead of talking to me like normal fucking people do, you just iced me out and then isolated me from the only friends I’ve ever made in this stupid fucking city!”

I can’t help the tears now even though I don’t want to cry. I want to rage and scream and throw things about but the hurt is bigger and it bubbles over the pot and sears my heart.

I leave my shopping bags where I’ve dropped them and walk back out of the door before he can come up with a response. I couldn’t stand to look at his face. He’s betrayed me over and over and the whole time I was desperately trying to show him I hadn’t changed and I loved him.

I walk the 40 minute to Harry’s and the early evening air helps me learn how to breathe again. I take in gulps of it and try not to cry. I didn’t want to waste tears on Gray and my stupid friends. I didn’t want to do any of this! I just wanted to press pause on my whole damn life and take a nap.

Outside his building I pull out my phone and make sure I don’t look crazed. My hand is killing me and I ignore the bruising blooming fresh.

The concierge spots me just as I enter, and we make small talk about Harry on tour and his last few shows that would happen in London. I make a note to mention to Harry to send him tickets—apparently his niece listened to him.

He helps me load a cart with Harry’s mail and take it upstairs.

It had been over a month since I’d been in here and it’s weird that it feels comforting. Or maybe that was just after two weeks of feeling like a stranger at home.

Harry’s words on the plane echo back to me. Not that I was appreciated here either.

If there was ever a time to go back home to the States, it would be now. But that felt like running away. I had to sort my life out here before I made any rash decisions.

With a sigh I dump the paper onto the coffee table. After sorting what looked like bills from letters from miscellaneous I spot the two envelopes Harry wanted and put it to the side. I open the boxes next and locate his custom orthopaedic inserts he asked me to grab too.

I take the extra mail to my office to sort out. In the familiar closed quarters where I’d spent too much time in the last year rolling through a hundred phases, my feelings edge out of me. I try to wipe the tears and continue on but I end up pathetically sat over on the chair crying until I can barely breathe.

It’s pathetic because this is the first space I’ve felt I had the space to cry. And it was where I worked. Where, apparently, I wouldn’t even be missed.

New tears. Less breaths.

“Get it the fuck together,” I say between gasps. “That’s. Enough.”

Through my own self-talk I manage to calm down enough to finish the work. It’s half past 8 by the time I get back to the main living area. I get water to rehydrate myself and stay sitting on the couch staring into space for another ten minutes. I don’t think I had any more tears to cry. Just a rock in place of my heart and another bigger one attached to my ankle.

“Okay,” I finally get the courage to head home.

The end isn’t big and explosive. It’s a simple statement: I think we both know what needs to be done now.

I don’t fight him this time. I have no fight left in me. I just nod.

“I’ll sleep on the couch and still drop you off tomorrow,” he reassures me.

“Just sleep in bed,” I couldn’t even muster enough energy for expression. My flat tone is how I felt. “You don’t fit on the couch. And I’ll get myself to the airport.”

“No I’ll take you. I’ve already made the arrangements-“

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore Gray,” I say. He looks crestfallen and it irks me that he does. I didn’t want him to be sad, it was ridiculous but it was.

“Well I’ll take you anyway.” He says then turns back to the TV.

I wash the day off and make sure everything is packed for my early flight tomorrow. As I lay in bed alone I realize this might be the last time I ever sleep here. Like this. I would have to move all my shit out. Oh god, the wedding. I’d have to cancel my dress shopping dates and the cake testing, the invites we were still designing.

We’d only told our friends it was going to be a winter wedding, I’m glad we never gave them a date. Nobody had marked their calendars. Nothing about us would been permanent.

I look down at the simple ring on my hand. Everything but that.

I keep it on.

I’m still awake when Gray comes to bed but I pretend to sleep. My mind can’t stop making lists to answer: what now.

I’m in a fugue state all night and the only thing that clears the fog is the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds in the morning. I hadn’t slept a wink.

Quiet, so I don’t wake Gray, I get up and dressed. I order a taxi and try not to linger on the hurt of doing this alone. Of Gray waking up to an empty bed.

The flight to Madrid is a couple hours and I miraculously nap through it. Everyone is happy to see me when I get back, especially when I present them with snacks they’d all said they missed from home while we were on tour. With them in hand, I’m an angel in their eyes.

I hand Harry his mail and he stops me. His eyes don’t stop examining my face.

“What happened to your hand?” He asks.

I’d picked up a bandaging kit and ice pack at the airport and with the help of Youtube, wrapped it up. It had started to bruise even worse but I couldn’t be arsed to deal with it even though it hurt. Nothing a few painkillers couldn’t fix.

“I accidentally got it caught in a door,” I lie easily. I had practiced. “It’s nothing.”

“Did you get it checked?”

“No.”

“Make sure you do, tonight’s show.”

“Sure. It’s really nothing though.”

“You sure?” He asks. His gaze is unnerving.

“Mhm,” I nod.

He’s silent, eyes scanning my face. Right as I decide I couldn’t take the scrutiny he asks, “Why were you crying last night?”

I stare, unsure what kind of trick he was playing.

“Sorry.” He laughs to himself. “I have one of those uh, motion sensor cameras in the entryway. I turn it on while I’m away so it sends like, automatic clips if there’s movement. I saw you come in and leave.”

“Oh.” Shit. Think fast. Think fast. “I uhm, got into it with some friends I had a meal with. Y’know…they were being a bit icy cuz of what they’ve heard. I’m over it though.”

“Yeah?” His eyes flicker down to my hand.

“Yeah.” I hold his green eyes for a moment, to reassure him I’m okay. I don’t know why he cares, maybe because I looked like a right mess last night as I left. How embarrassing. But I do my best acting job ever.

Satisfied, he lets me go. I return to the group asking for updates and any stories they wanted to share. Before long I’m laughing along and creeping out of my depressed mood. But something heavier still lingers.

***

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[ateez-himari]

SUMMER SONIC FESTIVAL

Atiny show concern over the physical health of the group.

August 19, 2024 (2:55PM)

ATEEZ's consecutive performances at the Summer Sonic festival mere days following nearly two months on tour raises concerns about the members' conditions, as some were seen struggling in the blazing heat. While the sets were indeed much shorter than normal concert performances, only fifty minutes, the weather that day was so humid even locals have found it unbearable.

While the moment was only partially captured as it took place behind two flags used during the Guerilla introduction, the youngest was seen nearly bowed down in pain while clutching her chest and members who witnessed this happening hurried over immediately. Using the recently released statement from KQ Entertainment netizens were able to infer that they were likely on edge due to the cardiac arrest she experienced the previous year, which stemmed from a level of fatigue quite similar to the one that was observed during the festival. It would seem that there is no need to panic as the vocalist rapidly regained her composure and with the flawless performance that followed, attendees standing away from this area remained unaware of this slight mishap.

Another thing that caught attention however was the return of an elastic rib brace, which was only seen during the first week of touring while she recovered from surgery that reportedly took place in the middle of the year. It became visible during day two when the heat had exhausted her to the point of having to use the main rapper as support during one of her verses, although with their interactions now being more freely close it seemed rather inconspicuous. His worried expression while gently steadying the young woman with two hands around her waist was what gave away the situation.

"Baby, do you need to stop ? Do you need me to get you some water ?" Could be seen being asked by Mingi in a video. His girlfriend simply denied and went off to dance in front of fans after giving him a quick kiss.

Attendees exiting the stage area in order to watch other artists also noticed that medical staff was already on standby the moment their set ended, one of them immediately checking the youngest's pulse while holding her upright. When these clips began circulating through social media fans were shocked as there seemed to be nothing wrong during their performance, the energy behind every aspect of it being the same as during regular concerts.

During the exiting bow on day one attendees noticed that the extreme heat had gotten to another member as well, San, who was seen biting down on his thumb briefly in order to stay conscious prior to stumbling away backstage. Throughout both performances he was seen stumbling during choreography, his facial expressions having also lost their usual animation with much more tiredness becoming visible. One singular video of their main vocalist, Jongho, looking as though he was about to faint any moment went viral alongside these clips which lead to atiny wondering whether they were truly getting enough rest.

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