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foreverisntenough · 1 month ago

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‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 21 - 'Space ' | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.6k

What had once been whispers of curiosity around your identity and your relationship had exploded into a full-blown storm of scrutiny. Lots of blurry photos, finding Jude in your likes, if his hand in your photo was actually his, was the girl in his Instagram story you, you were in his box at games, Trent followed you all of it crumbs people were devouring. People could put two and two together but there was no confirmation nothing concrete until now. People speculated long since you’d been with Jude but things had hit the fan since Jude’s series premiered. It was a great success and you were happy for him. That said, the media circus surrounding you that followed felt relentless, suffocating, and inescapable. Every day, there was a new headline, a new rumor, a new comment about your relationship with Jude, and it was all tearing at you, slowly and painfully. The real news outlets—legitimate and respected—reported on you as though you were a story in and of yourself. ‘Jude Bellingham’s Girlfriend: Who Is She?’ It felt like you were under a microscope, your entire life, your every move, analyzed and criticized. It wasn’t just the tabloids; even major news outlets began weighing in on your character, speculating on your intentions. You were labeled ‘the mysterious girlfriend,’ but that label morphed, depending on who was writing the story. On Twitter, it was chaos. The football fanatics, a community you had once wanted to read, became a battleground. You were a distraction, a curse on Jude’s career to some. Others dissected every photo, every glance Jude gave you, reading into it like their lives depended on it. And the girls—Jude’s fangirls—took it harder than anyone. You empathized, you’d loved certain celebrities before too but it got to a point where they weren’t just jealous, they were angry. Furious that you existed, that you were the one who got to be with him. Comments flooded in daily, accusing you of being a gold digger, someone chasing fame and fortune. Some said you were beautiful, and then the next post would call you ugly, tearing apart your appearance in ways that made your stomach churn. You read the most vile things, words that you couldn’t unsee, and the bile would rise in your throat every time you opened your phone.

You were now with England’s golden boy and Madrid’s biggest star. The paparazzi had become a constant presence, following you and Jude whenever you stepped outside in Madrid. You hadn’t realized what it meant to be with someone in the public eye like this until now. They camped outside restaurants, clubs, even Jude’s training ground, just waiting for a shot of the two of you together. They’d call out to you, hoping you’d slip up and give them a headline. Some days, you didn’t even want to leave the house. Going out with Jude had become exhausting. You’d stopped going to dinner with him, and the few times you did, you felt the weight of a hundred cameras flashing, capturing your every move. It wasn’t just the photos that hurt; it was the narrative. It felt surreal like you didn’t understand why this had ramped up to this caliber. The only factor that changed was your being. It was hard not to take it personally. Every publication seemed bent on tearing you and Jude apart. Whether it was speculating about other women or hinting that you were inadequate for this life, the goal seemed clear—break you down, and by extension, break him too. The constant barrage of opinions, of strangers tearing at your life, made you feel like you were unraveling. One minute, you were painted as Jude’s perfect match—beautiful, supportive, kind. The next, you were the villain, some opportunist trying to tear him away from his game, or worse, someone manipulating him for his fame and fortune. You had never been so conscious of how people perceived you. You had never cared so much, but now, with every headline, every tweet, every cruel comment, you felt like you were drowning. You couldn’t win no matter what you did. You started to avoid your phone altogether, but the silence wasn’t any better. You still knew what was out there. You were living in a constant state of anxiety, unsure when the next blow would land, but knowing that it inevitably would. The pressure was tearing at you, making you question everything. And worst of all, it was beginning to seep into your relationship with Jude. You knew it wasn’t his fault, but you couldn’t help the fear that eventually, the weight of it all would be too much for either of you to bear.

So call it karma, call it irony, but the series coming out with you in it had massively affected you—not Jude. Your worries expressed to Denise flipped. He seemed to not mind the attention, smiling whenever he saw online comments gassing you up for being beautiful, sweet, and such a supportive girlfriend. You could see how proud he was, showing you off to the world like you were his greatest treasure. Jude thrived on the validation, but for you, it was different. You thought back to when Denise had told you not to worry about him. At the time, you believed her, trusting that things would work out, but now that was all you could do—worry. She was right you didn’t need to worry about Jude. You should’ve worried about yourself. Every day felt like a constant battle to keep yourself afloat under the weight of the scrutiny that came with being Jude Bellingham’s girlfriend. The online comments were relentless, harsher than you had ever imagined. People picked apart every aspect of your life, your appearance, your relationship with Jude—everything was fair game. It felt like you couldn’t even breathe without it being analyzed or criticized. The deeper into your relationship with Jude you got, the more fragile you felt, like your confidence was slipping through your fingers. It was unsettling. Before all of this, you were strong, self-assured. Comments online never would’ve bothered you in the slightest. But now, they felt like daggers aimed at your heart, and you couldn’t shake the anxiety that came with them. Even leaving the house felt impossible. The idea of running into paparazzi or fans made your skin crawl. You were supposed to be living this exciting life in Madrid, but instead, you found yourself trapped—trapped by the fear of what people would say or do, of how they’d judge you. You had been planning to talk to Jude about officially moving to Madrid, making it your home together. You’d even started daydreaming about it, how you’d make space in the wardrobe, build a life with him in the city that adored him. But now, the thought of staying in Madrid filled you with dread. All you wanted was to run—to get as far away from this city as you could. To escape the noise, the cameras, the judgment.

You kept replaying moments in your head—what if you had said no to being in the series? Would things be different? Would you feel more in control? The fame, the exposure—it was swallowing you whole, and you didn’t know how to break free. You hated that it had come to this, that you couldn’t even enjoy being with Jude the way you used to. You had loved him fiercely, but now you felt like loving him was breaking you down, piece by piece. And the worst part was, you weren’t sure how to tell him. How do you explain to the person you love that the life he was thriving in—the life he was proud to have you by his side for—was suffocating you? You knew Jude would understand, but there was a part of you that worried he might feel hurt, like you were rejecting his life, not just the chaos that came with it. But you couldn’t keep going like this. You had to talk to him, even if it meant admitting that all you wanted right now was to get the hell out of Madrid. Jude could sense it eventually. The shift in your mood, the weight on your shoulders—he saw it all. He’d been seeing the online discourse for days now. It was everywhere: news articles, social media threads, debates about your relationship. It was unavoidable, and he hated the way he watched it begin to ransack you. One morning, as you stood in the kitchen quietly making coffee, Jude came up behind you. His arms slipped around your waist, pulling you into him as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I know you’re having a hard time,” he cooed, his voice barely audible. He could feel the tension between you two, and it hurt. You’d been distant, not in a way that screamed anger, but in a way that told him you were struggling, and he didn’t know how to help. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the edge of the counter. Finally you had hit a wall and Jude’s apology just sent you over the edge.

“This… it’s just too much, Jude.” Your voice was small, broken. His stomach dropped. What was too much? he wondered. Was he too much? Was his life and everything that came with it weighing on you? Jude’s heart raced as he tried to figure out what you meant.

“What do you mean? What’s too much?” His voice cracked slightly as he feared the worst. He felt like a kid again, afraid of losing something precious. You wiped a tear from your cheek, your voice barely holding steady.

“Everything. The show, the articles, the comments. I don’t know how to handle all of it… It feels like the world’s looking at me through a magnifying glass, judging every move, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that. I don’t know why I agreed to this. Like why…” You questioned. Not really to Jude particularly but into the room. Jude tightened his hold on you, his forehead pressing into the side of your neck. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

“I was excited,” he admitted softly. “I wanted to show you off to the world. I thought… I don’t know, I thought maybe it would make things easier, being more open. People would know you, love you the way I do. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think you’d feel this way, what this would actually do to you. I should’ve protected you more. I should’ve thought about what all of this would do.” His voice faltered as guilt settled in. You sighed knowing his initial intentions were good. But he saw the comments too and he wasn't naive. “Baby, but before this came out, before people were talking, you know that was why I wasn’t posting you on my Instagram. We’ve talked about this. I told you I would but we decided it was best the other way. We knew what we were doing before and we know what we’re doing now. It’ll be okay but I’m sorry, angel.” You shook your head, feeling the tears stream down your face.

“Jude… I’m not mad at you. I know it was a joint decision. It’s just overwhelming. I’m not used to this, and it’s making me question everything. I don’t know how to handle it.” You cried.

“I didn’t want this to hurt you. I’m sorry… I hate that it’s hurting you.” He held you tighter, his breath shaky as he whispered into your hair. You started to cry harder, and Jude stood there, holding you, breathing you in. He wished he had the right words, something to take the pain away. But instead, he just stood there, silently holding you, as if his embrace alone could make everything better. This chasm between you two, these conversations happened often after the series release and it was pushing you to your limits. Every camera flash felt like a tick on a time bomb.

“You’re in the show!!!” Whitney called, her voice practically screaming through the phone after she watched the documentary.

“I’m in the show,” you confirmed, but your tone lacked the excitement she expected. There was a pause on the other end of the line, confusion creeping into Whitney’s voice.

“Wait, what’s wrong? You don’t sound happy,” she asked, still giddy but now more concerned. You sighed heavily, rubbing your temple.

“Have you been online?” you asked, knowing the answer would explain everything.

“In general, I mean recipes and shopping but evidently not where you’ve been, why?” Whitney asked, still cheerful but growing cautious as she sensed your unease. You swallowed hard.

“The internet’s… the football internet it’s a lot right now. Since the docuseries came out, people have been going insane. Fan girls are in meltdown mode, and then there are supporters just judging every little thing about our relationship and how it’s been affecting Jude, timelines, backgrounds of photos, people just shitting on me. It’s too much.” You explained to her.

“Yeah, but it’s good that Jude was just like, ‘Here’s my girlfriend, I adore her,’ and then hit publish. It’s so him and you! It’s cute.” Whitney tried to keep the mood light but you cut her off gently.

“Whitney…” You could hear her stop in her tracks on the other end. “It’s not just the good stuff. People are losing their minds because he’s never posted me on his Instagram before. Despite that being on purpose… we decided that… I know that but that doesn’t matter because they’re saying he’s hiding me so he can cheat, or that he doesn’t really care about me.” You sheepishly confided in her.

“I know how that goes. How fun.” Whitney sarcastically quipped with a sigh . Unfortunately she knew all too well the pleasantries of launching of a relationship with a footballer. You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you.

“I know… but it’s getting to be too much. Going online feels like a war zone. Every time I log in, there’s some new thread, some new rumor. I’m struggling, Whit. We didn’t actively hide our relationship before, but because Jude wasn’t posting about me either, and people are running with that. Apparently an instagram post is the only valid form of commitment.” You sighed at the dumb reality you were in.

“Babe, I know how bad it can get. I mean England is a shit show for me. I can't imagine what Spain’s like matched with Jude.” Whitney’s voice softened empathizing with you.

“It’s just… overwhelming. I don’t know how to deal with it.” You sighed again. Whitney paused for a moment, then her voice came through steady.

“You don’t have to deal with it alone. Jude loves you, and anyone who really knows you two knows that. But maybe it’s time you guys talk about how public things have gotten and what that means go forward. You don’t deserve to feel like this and definitely not like this and alone.” She cooed gently. You nodded again in agreement, her words providing some comfort. “Can I be honest for a second?” Whitney spoke and you hummed but nervously. Whitney would always give honest opinions but if she was prefacing things like this you knew it ought to be serious. “There’s no use in you two just having conversations about how much you hate it because… of course you do but he can’t do anything about it. This is Jude Bellingham to all these other people. Unfortunately, he’s not your Jude, he’s theirs. I know it’s hard to hear that, it’s actually the worst feeling in the world but… Your Jude exists. And you two need to have honest conversations about what you do go forward to maintain your relationship because whilst as much as he can’t change who he is… neither can you. You matter just as much in this.” Whitney cooed and you frowned at her accurate call out.

“Yeah, you’re right. I just… I don’t know how to handle the pressure right now.” You admitted sadly. It’s not like you’d never been in the papers before, had your photograph taken, it’d happened but nothing, never to this level. Nothing that caused hate like this. Whitney was right but a part of you questioned if you really could maintain a relationship with Jude Bellingham… Not just Jude.

“I’m here for you,” Whitney reassured. “And so is Jude. Don’t let the noise get to you. You’ve got so many people who love you. Screw the rest. It’ll be fine, you’re not always in Madrid right now anyways,” she said, trying to ease the pressure, but instead, it crumbled you. Whitney’s excitement over seeing you in Jude’s documentary had been so full of joy but it had disappeared now. Her lighthearted comment about not always being in Madrid had hit you like a wave crashing too hard. You hadn’t realized how much you were holding inside until she said it. Tears began to spill, hot and heavy, and you couldn’t stop them. Whitney’s voice shifted immediately, her playful tone giving way to soft, loving concern. “Oh no, hun. I’m so sorry. Don’t cry, it’s going to be okay,” she cooed, trying to console you through the phone. “I know how bad it can feel. I mean, you were there for me when I went through it. The hate… it still happens to me too But you’re gonna be okay.” She tried to relate. You knew she did, she’d lived this, if there was anyone you’d want advice from right now it was her but in real time it wasn’t enough and suddenly there was a snap. Rash and fast.

“I can’t do this anymore, Whit. It’s too much. I need to get out of here.” Through shaky breaths, you managed to tell her you needed to leave Madrid. Whitney, ever the voice of reason and love, tried to soothe you.

“I know it feels impossible right now, but storms always pass. You just have to hang on, lean on Jude. You can call me all the time. Don’t leave somewhere that might not feel like home right now but has someone that is home to you there.” She tried to rationalize. But she could hear it in your voice—she heard the breaking point. You weren’t hanging on, it was too much. You were already letting go. You were in fight or flight mode, and flight was taking over, fast.

“I need to leave, Whitney,” you whispered assertively, the decision settling deep in your chest. You felt sick admitting it. “I just… I can’t stay here.” Whitney’s heart broke for you on the other end of the line.

“Alright,” she said, her voice gentle, even though you knew she didn’t want you to go. “Why don’t you go home just for a bit. I’ll meet you at home in Paris. You need to be somewhere you feel safe.” She told you. You needed to get away from the Madrid media onslaught. This conversation had flipped on it’s head Whitney felt sick at what you wanted but shed back you.

“Whitney,” you cautioned softly, knowing she had a baby to think of.

“I’ll meet you in Paris, it’s fine,” she reassured you quickly. “Trent can take care of Ted. Don’t worry about that.” You sniffled, a small, sad smile breaking through as you thought of her sweet little girl.

“Well, she could come too,” you pouted, wishing you could hold Teddy for some comfort. “I wouldn’t mind.” Whitney let out a soft laugh, knowing you needed the distraction but maybe not the distraction of Teddy.

“No, no,” she said, with a teasing tone. “You need your bestie, not mum Whitney. Besides, Trent can handle her for a bit.” She cooed. “...I think.” She smiled.

“Trent and probably Dianne, but yeah, okay,” you giggled weakly, picturing Trent trying to juggle Teddy on his own. He could but it was funny to tease. Whitney’s light laugh on the other end of the line was soothing, even as the weight of your decision pressed on you.

“Don’t worry about them,” Whitney said, her voice full of love. “Just focus on you right now, okay? Tell Jude you just need to pop to France to take a breath... nothing he did. And then we’ll be there soon and we can shop and we can vent, some frites, champagne, whatever you want.” She cooed. And with that, you felt better knowing you’d see Whitney soon but telling Jude wasn’t exactly something you were looking forward to. It hadn’t been long—mere minutes, really—since your conversation with Whitney, and the weight of everything still clung to you like an invisible force as Jude walked in. His eyes softened when he saw you, a tired but warm smile on his face as he crossed the room, arms already outstretched for a hug. He didn’t know the storm that had just crashed into you but he could see fear in your eyes.

“How you holding up, angel?” he asked gently, wrapping you in his embrace. The feeling of his arms around you was normally your anchor, your safe place. But today, it felt suffocating. You froze, the internal chaos rising too quickly to be silenced. You felt the need to escape, to run, to flee from this life that was spiraling beyond your control. It wasn’t rational, and deep down you knew that, but rationality wasn’t steering the wheel anymore. Without thinking, you pulled back abruptly, your movements sharp, and his hands slipped from your waist. It was like a bandaid you needed to rip off. It felt mean to do but you needed to get the fuck out of there.

“I can’t do this, Jude,” you blurted the phrase once again, the words escaping before you had a chance to rethink them. His brow furrowed in confusion, concern instantly flooding his eyes.

“What?” he asked, taking a small step back, giving you space as his eyes searched yours, trying to understand. “What do you mean? What happened?” He questioned. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and the panic inside you only grew.

“This… all of this,” you stammered, gesturing vaguely around, though it was less about the room and more about the life you found yourself in. “It’s too much. I need… I need to go.” Jude’s face fell, and you could see the hurt flash across his expression. It was like all at once you needed out.

“Go? What are you talking about?” Jude asked confused because the tone in your voice had a lot of conviction. He knew you were having a hard time but… leave?

“I just can’t be here anymore,” you said, your voice shaking, tears threatening to fall. “I’m… I’m not cut out for this. I’m really sorry, I am but the pressure, the attention. It’s everywhere. I feel like I’m drowning, Jude and there’s nothing for me to hold onto here.” He took a step forward, his hands reaching for yours, but you pulled away. You could see the pain in his eyes, the confusion.

“But I thought…” His voice cracked slightly, and he swallowed hard, trying to compose himself. “I thought we were okay. I thought you wanted to be here with me. We were gonna weather this together.” You shook your head, your words spilling out in a rush. Jude felt blindsided.

“I do… I did… I do want to be with you, Jude, more than anything. But this… this chaos. I don’t know if I can handle it. The cameras, the comments, the scrutiny. I’m not strong enough for all of this.” You whimpered. Jude was quiet for a moment, his chest rising and falling heavily as he took in your words.

“Angel… please. You can. You’re stronger than you think,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t care about all that. I care about you. We can figure it out together.” But you were already spiraling, caught in a cycle of self-sabotage you couldn’t break. You wanted to go and meet Whitney asap.

“I need space,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need to go.” Jude’s face fell, his arms dropping to his sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them anymore. You were serious and he could tell. He looked at you like he was watching his whole world start to slip through his fingers, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“Space?” he repeated, as if the word didn’t make sense. You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I have no control here, Jude. Over anything… again” Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of it all crushing you. All you could recall was everything you did before to try to gain complete control of everything in your life and now Madrid was spinning into a place where you were completely out of control. You had no work, your entire social standing was through Jude, the media was now watching everything you did, your schedule revolved around Jude’s schedule it was harrowing. “It’s your world here Jude and that’s okay but I just don’t know if I’m meant to be in it.” You murmured.

“What are you saying.” He frantically asked you, panicking about what was unfolding right before his eyes. Everything slipping and fast. You weren’t even sure why things were moving so fast but as wrong as it felt… It felt right to want to leave.

“I just want to go home.” You sheepishly told him. He blinked, confused, his face shifting from concern to hurt. This maybe wouldn’t be the way Whitney wanted you to explain things to him but it’s how the words were coming out.

“This is home,” he said softly, his voice breaking slightly. “Me. I’m home.” He looked at you devastated. “You’re home with me.” But the word ‘home’ felt foreign in your mouth now. Spain had never felt like yours, not completely. Not with the constant press even from the start till now, the cameras flashing in your face every time you stepped outside, the endless speculation about your relationship.

“It doesn’t feel like home. I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears already streaming down your cheeks. Jude’s face fell. His hand reached for yours instinctively, but you pulled away, and he winced as if you’d struck him.

“Angel, please don’t do this,” he muttered, his voice barely holding steady. He hated seeing you like this. But worse than that, he hated that you were pulling away from him, something he didn’t know how to stop. “Please,” he whispered, his voice raw. “Don’t leave here…. Dont leave… me.” He begged but you were already halfway out the door in your mind, the fear of losing yourself greater than the fear of losing him in that moment. You knew you were making a mistake, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You had to fly. Jude felt sick.

It was cynical but you left when he went to training. You didn’t want him to see you go. He couldn’t stop you. Not if he tried to and you knew it would hurt him more. You grabbed your bag, your sunglasses on before you even stepped out the door. The Spanish media was relentless, and even at the airport, they were there, as if they knew somehow, waiting. You prayed the oversized glasses hid the tear stains on your cheeks as you walked through the terminal, heart heavy.

You met Whitney in Paris just as planned, at the house that once felt like your sanctuary but now seemed like a place to hide from the world. The odd thing was you weren’t totally sure if you and Jude were broken up or if you just needed a breather. It was vague but the vagueness hurt. The second you walked through the door, the weight of it all came crashing down, and Whitney, sensing it immediately, wrapped you in a tight embrace. You cried into her shoulder before making your way to the living room, where you both sat, talking for hours. The soft glow of the Parisian street lights filtered through the windows, casting a golden hue over the room as you curled up on the couch, your legs tucked to your chest, tears still slipping down your cheeks.

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” you hiccuped, your voice small and fragile. Whitney sat next to you, legs crossed, her hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. You didn’t think you’d broken up but you didn’t know what Jude thought. You didn’t want to be but everything hurt, what were you staying in Madrid for? You questioned yourself.

“I’m here, babe,” she said softly. “No matter what you decide, I’ve got you. But… I do think Spain is where you belong. I know it’s scary right now, but Jude would protect you. He loves you so much.” Whitney told you. She answered your internal question… Jude. Jude was who you were staying there for. You sniffled, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“Maybe I just need to get rid of my phone entirely. If I didn’t see any of it, I wouldn’t feel at least half of all this.” Your voice broke as you said it, the suggestion half-serious, half-desperate. Whitney gave you a small, knowing smile, shaking her head gently.

“Well, no, because then I couldn’t text you all my rants and you know I’d miss you too much or even sending baby pictures, you wouldn’t get to see Teddy girl.” She smiled softly. It was teasingly light but also a bit serious. You let out a watery laugh, though the sadness still lingered heavily in your chest.

“Yeah, well… that’s true. Is that where I’m at though? Sacrificing my other relationships for this one with Jude.” You sighed. Whitney shook her head in disagreement. “Just throw my phone away, and live in Madrid, splitting time solely between the bedroom and the bernabeu.” You quipped.

“That’s harsh…” She frowned. “That’s not all you are to him and it’s not the solution, hun,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to cut yourself off from everything to be okay. You wouldn't like it and Jude wouldn’t want that for you. You just need to remember how strong you actually are.” You looked at her through tear-blurred eyes, and she smiled at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ve always been strong. You’ve gotten through so much already. This… this won’t break you.” You weren’t sure if you believed her. You felt so fragile, like one more push and you’d shatter completely. But Whitney had always seen you in a way you struggled to see yourself—as capable, resilient, and brave but she also was acutely aware of your vulnerabilities most people didn’t even know existed. It made you trust her so maybe, just maybe, she was right. That night you laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, her words echoing in your mind. ‘You’re stronger than you think.’ You wanted to believe that. You wanted to feel like that strong person Whitney knew. But right now, all you could do was try to close your eyes, take a deep breath, and hope that tomorrow, the decision would come with a little more clarity.

Somehow, your absence felt worse than the first time you’d left. Jude couldn’t function. His routines fell apart, and even on the pitch, he wasn’t the same. He found himself staring at his phone, waiting for a message that wouldn’t come. He went to training, tried to keep busy, but there was always this hollow feeling that followed him around. In interviews, people asked how he was. He’d plaster on a smile, give some vague answer about ‘focus’ and ‘commitment’ but inside, he was crumbling. He couldn’t have been less focused or less committed. The Spanish media swirled with rumors— more about you, more about the relationship, it felt like a manhunt for both information and your location. Every second without you felt longer, the space between you two growing wider with each passing hour. He had no control, no way of fixing things, and the weight of it was suffocating him.

Toby arrived at Jude’s place after Jude’s sparse texts and seeing the fallout in the news. He had been worried ever since the rumors started circulating it could get to this point and now here you were. As he stepped inside, he found the house eerily quiet, dark even. Jude was lying on the couch, barely moving, the glow from the TV casting long shadows across the room. Toby stood in the doorway for a moment, taking it in. He knew his friend well enough to understand the weight Jude was carrying.

“Bro, you’re really going through it, huh?” Toby teased softly, trying to lighten the mood as he walked in. But the joke didn’t land. Jude barely moved. Toby let out a breath and crossed the room, sitting down beside him. He reached out and slapped Jude on the leg in a loving best friend way, strong and reassuring. “She went home?” Toby asked gently after a moment. Jude let out a low hum of acknowledgment, his face still buried in his hands. It hurt to hear Toby unintentionally rub in that Paris was more of a home to you then there was.

“Yeah,” Jude whispered, his voice barely audible. Toby leaned back, trying to find the right words to say next but Jude spoke first. “Man, fuck, I really thought this was gonna take off in a good way….Like the documentary, showing everyone how much I love her, making it public. I thought she’d see that, you know?” Jude sighed, rubbing his face.

“Mate, it’s a lot. Like, even my Instagram comments get insane… and hers, right now? They’re nuts. People are just relentless.” Toby explained to Jude. It’s not that he didn’t know or was naive enough to believe it was all happy and fine but Toby could stomach reading the nasty ones where Jude turned a blind eye. “Fuck.” Jude suddenly yelled, sitting up and throwing his hands over his face in frustration. He groaned, wishing he could be anyone but Jude Bellingham right now. “I never wanted this to hurt her. I thought I was doing the right thing, I just—I just wanted to show her off. I thought it would be special, something good for us. Now she’s gone, and I feel like I fucked it.” Toby watched him, understanding the pressure Jude was under. He let him vent before speaking again, calmer this time.

“I think you can sort it. You’ve got to make Madrid feel like home for the both of you, man. Not just your home, yours together,” Toby threw out his idea, emphasizing the last word…’together.’ “She needs to feel like this isn’t just your life and she’s tagging along. Like as much as it’s a luxury…It must be so hard for her, coming here, dealing with the media, trying to keep up with your world.” Toby looked at Jude with sympathy. Jude sat back, taking a deep breath. He knew Toby was right. It had always been about Jude’s world—the football, the media, the pressures of being in the spotlight. He thought involving you in that would make you feel special, but maybe it was suffocating you instead.

“I just don’t know how to fix it.” Jude mumbled.

“You can’t just sit here like a mopping melt. You’ve gotta make a plan, bro. You need to show her that you’re building something together. Madrid can’t just be where you live, where you play. It has to be a place where you both can see yourselves, where she feels like she belongs. You need to decide together how to make it work, not just for you, but for her too.” Toby told Jude seriously shuffling on the couch, adjusting in his seat. “Mate, it’s sick what you’ve accomplished and it’s not your fault but she needs to feel like she’s worth 120 million too because otherwise the balance is off even when you’re home here.” Toby awkwardly and carefully told Jude. He didn’t want to knock Jude but of anyone… he knew what being on the other end of a relationship with Jude could feel like. Jude nodded, letting Toby’s words sink in. He knew he needed to step up. He needed to find a way to make this work, to build a life with you, not just around his football career but around the both of you. “She’s good for you, I know it took me a minute to understand that but she’s worth it, man ” Toby added. “And you know it.” Jude leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Yeah, she is. I’ve just gotta figure out how to make her feel like this is her home too. That’s the plan.” Jude echoed him.

It was well past midnight. Your house in Paris was still and quiet, save for the soft sound of Whitney’s steady breathing beside you. You had chosen to stay in the same bed, even though there were plenty of rooms in the house to retreat to. But tonight, you couldn’t bear the thought of being alone, not when everything felt like it was caving in on you. The weight of it all pressed down, and as you lay there, still staring at the ceiling, you could feel the lump in your throat growing. The tears came first in silent streaks, warm and fast down your cheeks. You turned your head slightly, careful not to disturb Whitney, trying to keep it together. But the more you tried to stifle it, the harder it became. The sobs started to break through, your body shaking as you tried to muffle the sounds in your pillow. You didn’t want to wake her. You didn’t want her to know how much you were unraveling, even though she already had a pretty good idea. Unable to stay in bed any longer, you quietly slipped out, padding your way to the bathroom. You shut the door softly behind you, leaning against it for a moment as you tried to catch your breath. The walls felt like they were closing in, your reflection in the mirror barely recognizable, eyes red and swollen from crying. Without even thinking, you reached for your phone, dialing the only person you wanted to talk to. Jude answered almost immediately.

“Angel?” Jude choked out, his voice rough, caught somewhere between sleep and emotion. “You okay?” He asked almost mindlessly.

“I’m sorry. I miss you so much,” you managed to get out, your voice broken and strained from the sobs that were coming from your chest. On the other end, Jude’s breath caught. You could hear him trying to hold it together, but there was a soft whimper in his voice.

“I know, Angel, I know,” he whispered, his voice tender and filled with emotion. “I miss you too.” You couldn’t stop the tears from falling, couldn’t stop the overwhelming need to be with him, to have him there holding you, telling you everything would be okay.

“I don’t want to be apart. I don’t want to lose my Jude,” you gasped, barely able to get the words out between your sobs.

“Angel, you’re not going to lose me, I promise,” Jude said softly, his voice steady, though you could hear the strain. “Just come back to me, please. We’ll sort this out together. I need you here with me.” He tried to tell you as calmly as possible but he had been in a panic since you left. “I can’t…I can’t get to you right now.” He told you and your heart dropped. This was it. This was the problem. Jude’s world. You knew he had a football tomorrow, knew he needed to focus, and yet here you were, falling apart when he needed to keep his head in the game. This was Jude’s world. He heard you hiccup, your breathing ragged. “I know,angel and I’m sorry.. Fuck… I’m sorry,” Jude said, his voice cracking slightly, he never felt more guilty but he tried to toughen up for the sake of the relationship. “But I need you here. I need you with me, angel. I can’t stand knowing you’re crying like this, mon ange.” His attempt at French, though sweet and familiar, broke something inside you. It was his way of reminding you that you were his, that no matter the chaos or the distance, you were his.

“I just—” you started, but the tears were making it hard to speak. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down, but it was no use. You were crumbling.

“Come on, yeah?” Jude’s voice was so soft, so gentle. You could hear the deep breath he took on the other side of the line, as if trying to breathe for both of you. “Please, baby. Come home to me. I’ve got you. I know it’s been shit but I’ll take care of you. Come back to our home. I’m gonna work so hard to make it better for you back here. Promise. I love you so much.” The sobs came again, but this time there was something different about them. There was a comfort, a peace in his words, in knowing that Jude wasn’t going anywhere, that he loved you and wanted to be with you through all of it.

“... Okay.” You whimpered between another onslaught of tears. You couldn’t stop but you wanted to go back.

“Okay? Why are you crying again, huh?” Jude teased lightly, his voice breaking the tension in your chest. “I love you, and you’re going to come home. That’s a good thing, right?” You couldn’t help but let out a sad little giggle through the tears, the weight of everything easing just slightly at his words.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice small but sincere. “Yeah, it is.” You could almost see the smile on his face as he let out a relieved sigh.

“Good,” he murmured. “Now get back to bed, yeah? And when you wake up, I’ll get you on a plane back to your Jude, come back home to me. I need you here.” You could hear the sad smile in his voice. You could feel the tension evaporating.

“I will,” you promised, your voice still thick with emotion but steadier now. “I love you, Jude.”

“I love you, angel. So much.” The conversation lingered in the air even after you hung up, his words wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You stood in the bathroom for a moment longer, wiping at your eyes, feeling the tiniest bit lighter, the tiniest bit more whole. You weren’t alone in this. You had Jude, and you had his love. Whitney had heard you get up, even though you had tried to be quiet. She always had a knack for knowing when you were in distress, not just because she was your best friend but because she was maternal, too. When you returned to bed, wiping your eyes, you found her sitting up against the headboard, her phone in hand, but her attention completely on you. Her face softened with a knowing, sympathetic smile.

“You ready to go home now?” she asked gently, her tone light but understanding. She knew you’d go back from the moment you stepped into Paris. You needed the space, yes, but more than that, you needed the reminder. Tabloid chaos aside, you wanted Jude. You loved him, and this moment was just another test of that love. You nodded silently, the lump still in your throat, and crawled back into bed beside her. She immediately wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her warmth. “Mum’s know best,” she murmured with a smile, kissing the top of your head. It made you laugh through the remnants of your tears. You wiped your face on the sleeve of your shirt, grateful for her being there.

“Can I see the latest of our Teddy girl?” you asked, shifting the focus. “You’ve been holding out on me since we’ve only been talking about my drama.” Whitney laughed softly, shaking her head.

“Of course, I’ve got plenty but I’ll warn you. It’ll make you smile soo…” she said with a smirk, unlocking her phone and pulling up the videos. You smiled warmed already. Whitney’s phone illuminated the darkened room with a soft glow, and as she found the video of Teddy, you instinctively leaned your head onto her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her presence. A tender smile crossed your face, already knowing that whatever was about to play would melt your heart, as always. The still frame of Teddy’s chubby cheeks, round and flushed with Trent’s unmistakable dimples, filled the screen. She looked like a little cherub, her innocence and sweetness enough to make you want to squeeze her through the phone. The video began to play, Whitney’s voice, soft and encouraging, coming through.

“Say hi, please,” she said gently, as if coaxing Teddy into sharing her little message with you. Teddy’s tiny voice, a bit jumbled but unmistakably adorable, echoed from the phone.

“Hi.” She then fell into giggles at nothing but the hello. “I miss. You come back home with mama… and treat for me pleabs, tay?” Her request was so sincere, so pure, that it tugged at your heartstrings. You giggled, tilting your head further into Whitney’s shoulder, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you. Whitney gasped playfully in the video, her voice laughing as she questioned her little girl.

“What! Y/N and a treat?” She asked before the sound of her tickling of Teddy’s chubby tummy filled the audio, followed by her baby’s uncontrollable giggles.

“Oh my god, I miss her so much,” you pouted, feeling the familiar ache in your chest. You missed Teddy’s soft little arms around your neck, the way her laughter filled the house when you visited.

“Want tiny cakes, mama! Pink pleabs!” She yelped, muddied her own giggles.

“She means macaroons by the way,” Whitney clarified to you now, shaking her head with a fond smile. Teddy loved her little ‘treats,’ always asking for those delicate, colorful pastries. You let out a whiny sigh, your lips forming into an exaggerated pout.

“I want to eat herrrrr,” you joked, the words escaping your mouth in a playful whimper as you watched the screen. Whitney laughed, her giggle soft but infectious, the same way Teddy’s was.

“Yeah, well, she wants to eat a macaroon, so… are we going tomorrow? I don’t think she’ll let me in without a treat from Y/N.” She looked at you with a teasing smile, knowing full well that you’d never deny Teddy anything.

“Of course, we’re getting her some!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over. There was a pasty shop near your home in Paris you loved and you often either mailed, hand delivered or even once before taken Teddy to the shop. It was sweet literally and figuratively but now your presence was synonymous with yummy macaroons for the little girl. The thought of seeing Teddy, her joy over a simple treat, was enough to lift your spirits, even if just for a little while. All of this was the perfect distraction, the perfect antidote to your spiraling thoughts. As the video ended, Whitney continued scrolling through her camera roll, showing you more snippets of her, Trent and Teddy’s world. Videos of her Teddy learning new words, her high-pitched giggles as she ran around the house, her tiny feet padding along wooden floors. You could feel yourself relaxing, sinking into the comfort of these moments. In another one, Teddy was babbling in that adorable toddler way, trying to string together sentences as she played with one of her toys. She looked up at the camera, her little eyes wide with wonder, and you felt a pang of longing. You missed being around her, Whitney, and Trent—this little family that made your heart feel so full. Whitney paused on a particular video, her face softening with an affectionate smile.

“You know,” Whitney said, her voice casual but pointed. She turned to you, her eyes twinkling with a soft smile. “I heard a rumbling from that little girl that Jude’s thinking of a big future with you.” You blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but the meaning of her words quickly sank in. You giggled, the vagueness of her comment amusing, but also strangely reassuring.

“Oh really? Teddy’s got all the inside scoop, huh?” You cooed. Whitney raised an eyebrow playfully.

“She does. And it’s a big deal, babe.” You smirked, trying to play it cool, though your heart fluttered at the idea.

“Well, it only makes sense she knows my future before me,” you teased. “Besides, obviously I’d need Teddy’s go-ahead for anything big, right? Judey is hers after all.” You teased. Whitney hummed in agreement.

“Leaving Madrid included. You're not ditching Judey without her say." She added with a mischievous grin, knowing full well how close Jude was with her daughter and how much you shouldn’t leave Jude. “But seriously… He’s all in, babe.” The warmth of her words lingered. Jude thinking of a future with you, something solid, something more, was a thought you hadn’t fully let yourself embrace yet. But hearing it from Whitney, someone who knew both you and Jude so well, it felt real. It felt possible. As you settled back into bed, your heart was a little lighter, your mind a little more at ease. You knew that soon, you’d be heading back to Madrid—not just to Jude, but to the life you were building together, even if it came with complications and challenges. For now, you allowed yourself to take comfort in Whitney’s arms and the sweet, innocent sound of Teddy’s giggles in the background. You stayed in the same bed, finding comfort in the familiarity, the closeness of your best friend at a time when you needed it most.

With macaroons secured and Whitney on her way back home in the opposite direction, you were headed to Madrid again. When your flight landed, you thought you were seeing things after you left your terminal. A figure in your sightline but just far enough away for their features to be blurred stood. It was an eerily familiar frame that made your heart ache but you walked towards anyways needing to get outside. As you got closer your stomach turned. And there, patiently awaiting for a car service in the arrivals was Jobe Bellingham. You never expected to run into him yet there he was, dimples sunk into his cheeks as he looked at something on his phone. It was both comforting to see him and anxiety producing all at once. What did he know? Why was he here? A part of you dreaded needing to be in the same area, an unavoidable conversation looming. He stood, hand in his pockets, looking a bit out of place but familiar all the same. You watched a cheekier smile grow on his face when he picked up his gaze and watched you unwillfully approach. You felt a bit awkward though, things were resolved to a degree with Jude but you knew Jobe would know about how tense things had gotten. It was both endearing and annoying how close Jude was with his family.

“Look who it is” he said, his voice hesitant but eyebrows raised to tease. You could tell he also was a little unsure of how to approach this but he was sweet as ever.

“Hi,” you stammered back, still caught off guard by his presence. Before you could even process it, Jobe had pulled you into a hug. It was awkward at first, but then, it felt like home—a reminder of the bond you’d built with Jude’s family. He held onto you a little tighter, sensing you were on the verge of something deeper than just surprise.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, concern lacing his words. You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you buried your face against him and, without warning, you started crying. Your tears came unexpectedly, like a dam breaking, as you clung to him for a moment longer than you should have. “Hey, you’re good,” Jobe whispered, his hand rubbing your back soothingly, trying to calm you down. He pulled away after a moment, looking down at you with a soft expression.

“Why are you in Madrid?” you blurted out, your voice shaky, though the answer was obvious. Jobe chuckled, understanding the confusion in your mind. “I mean, I know why… but,” you quickly added, shaking your head at yourself embarrassed by your words. He let out a short laugh, easing the tension.

“Obviously to see Jude,” he smirked. “But, yeah. He’s a mess without you. So here I am… next best thing,” Jobe shrugged. He was always going to be there for Jude. It was the most natural thing in the world to be there, ready to back his brother.

“I don’t want him to be a mess,” you pouted, feeling guilty all over again. The weight of your recent decisions hit you harder now that you were standing in front of Jobe, who had dropped everything to be there for Jude. Now, you were dreading seeing Denise and having to explain your exodus.

“Then stop leaving,” Jobe teased, though there was kindness behind his words. “Jude pulled in the big guns this time. Can’t leave my bro hanging like that. You guys are supposed to be end game. Can’t switch on the man now.” He smirked. You looked up at him, your eyes still red from crying but a small smile forming on your lips.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice softer this time. You felt almost ashamed.

“Don’t be,” Jobe shrugged again, his smirk reassuring. “So you wanna share a ride?” He joked lightly, trying to shift the mood. You nodded as his smirk grew into a full smile. And just like that, with the air a little lighter, you two made your way to the car, your heart set on making things right when you finally saw Jude again. In the car with Jobe, the city of Madrid flew by outside the window, but your mind was elsewhere, still tangled in emotions about everything that had unfolded over the past few days. You glanced over at him, trying to find some peace in the fact that you were heading back to Jude. Jobe must’ve sensed your anxiety, because he broke the silence first, his voice low and sincere. “Jude’s all in, you know that, right? Jokes aside,” he started, eyes still out the window but the weight of his words heavy between you two. “Like, different situations for us, of course, but Jude looks after the people in his life. He’s not gonna let anything happen to you. To the relationship.” He cooed. You looked at him, trying to gauge how much he really knew, how much he understood the whirlwind you’d been caught in. “Don’t get me wrong it’s a fucking circus but he knows that. People can just be assholes out there but inside. We create our own calm, yeah?” he continued, “And sure, these people care a lot about Jude. He cares what they think and but he doesn’t care about them the way he cares about you.” His words hit deep, and you felt the knot in your chest loosen a little. It was comforting to know that even Jobe saw how much you meant to Jude. Jobe turned to you briefly, a small smile forming on his lips. “Plus,” he said, his voice lightening, “I like having you around. He can be a pain in the ass and it’s nice to share the load of that with someone” He draped his arm over your shoulder in a brotherly gesture, pulling you closer in the backseat. “I’ll back you. You’ve got me in your corner,” he teased, but there was an unmistakable warmth behind it. “I’ll let people know you’re the one who’s got my brother acting like a melt. Anyone who’s got Jude like this is staying around, people can say what they want.” You laughed softly, wiping the corner of your eye, grateful for the support. You didn’t want to cry in front of Jobe anymore but you felt like you might. It wasn’t just about Jude anymore—it was about his family, too. Jobe’s reassurance meant everything. It felt like a protective force was around you, and knowing Jobe had your back, had seen how much you cared for Jude, made you feel a little braver about facing what was to come.

“Thanks, Jobe,” you said quietly, your voice softer now. In a backwards way, though younger than you, it felt like you were with Louis. He felt like your brother and it made you feel such a familiar sense of comfort. A soft reminder that Jude’s life was your life, you did fit in it when it came to the places that mattered.

“Don’t mention it,” he shrugged, but you could see the fondness in his eyes as he looked back ahead. You leaned back into your seat, your heart a little lighter. Jobe wasn’t just Jude’s brother—he was family to you now too, and it was so reassuring to know that you had his support.

As you walked up to the house, nerves buzzing beneath your skin, you hesitated at the door. Jobe, ever acting like the playful little brother, gave you a light shove on the back.

“Go on, then,” he teased with a grin. His energy was light, but you could feel the weight of the moment ahead. You gave him a side-eye but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Jobe opened the door and immediately announced your arrival in the most dramatic way possible, his voice echoing through the house. “Look who I brought! Best brother in the world… Jobe Bellingham!” He yelled. You could hear the humor in his voice, but your heart was pounding in your chest. Jude looked up from where he was at the kitchen island, and the second he saw you, his whole face lit up with relief. He didn’t even hesitate—he was up and running toward you in seconds, his arms wrapping around you tightly. You tried to hold it together, but the moment his familiar scent, his warmth, and the strength of his embrace surrounded you, it was like a dam broke. The tears you’d been attempting to hold back in front of Jobe fell freely, your face buried against his chest as you sobbed. Jude held you even tighter, swaying you gently from side to side as if that motion alone could soothe your aching heart.

“I know, baby. C’mere,” he whispered into your hair, his voice soft, filled with love. He kissed the top of your head repeatedly, one arm around your shoulders, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s okay, angel. We’re gonna be okay. I promise.” His words were calming, but it was the way he held you, like you were the most precious thing in the world, that started to ease the storm inside you. He didn’t rush you, didn’t try to say too much. He just let you cry, let you feel everything, while he whispered quiet reassurances and kissed your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to choke out between sobs, feeling a wave of guilt for everything that had happened, for running away, for doubting how strong you were. It wasn’t long apart but it felt like a massive amount of time out of his arms.

“Shhh, angel. You don’t have to apologize,” he murmured, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I’m sorry. We’re gonna figure this out. Together. You’re supposed to be here with me.” Jude whispered. Jobe lingered for a second, taking in the scene with a soft smile before heading to go find Toby, leaving the two of you alone to have your moment. Jude gently pulled back just enough to cup your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters, yeah?. We’ll get through this, I promise.” You nodded, leaning into his touch, finally feeling some of the weight lift off your shoulders. Being here, in his arms, it was where you needed to be. When Jude took your bags upstairs, you clung to him, refusing to let go. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your cheek squished against his back as he walked to the bedroom. As you stepped into the familiar surroundings of the bedroom, tears welled up in your eyes again, blurring your vision. You had told him when you left this didn’t feel like home but it couldn’t have felt more opposite now. It'd been a challenging few days, but now you and Jude were finally back in each other's arms. You'd missed his embrace, his scent, and the way he made your heart race. He smiled softly, his sweet demeanor ever present. "I gotcha," he whispered, his voice filled with concern. Jude smiled, warmth radiating from him as he gently pried your arms off just enough to turn around and face you. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent, unable to let go. You felt his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you couldn't help but kiss his neck, letting your lips linger on his warm skin. A shiver ran through you as you felt his muscles tense in response to your touch. The tension and anxiety of the past melting away but then you felt a shift, all your fear replaced by desire.

"I missed you," you whined softly, your lip against his skin your grip on him tightening.

"Yeah? I missed you more, angel," he murmured, his eyes softening, his breath tickling your ear. His hands glided down your back, cupping your ass, and lifting you slightly onto your toes, pressing your body against his, and then up your back again. You silently gasped as you felt his hardening cock against you, already straining against his trousers. The realization of how much you've craved this boy hit you like a wave. You kissed the soft skin of his neck again letting out a quiet hum of satisfaction.

"Mmm, I really missed you," you whined again, the intensity of your longing for him rising as the familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you. Jude chuckled at the sound, a teasing smirk forming on his lips.

"Oh, I see... You missed me like that now, huh?" His tone was playful, but there was an edge of desire beneath it. You nodded, dragging your hands under his shirt, your fingertips grazing over the defined lines of his abs, the warmth of his skin igniting your need for him. The quiet tension between you two thickened as your hands pushed his shirt higher, revealing more of him. Jude's playful smirk deepened as he gripped you tighter, his hands gliding down the curve of your back once more to rest under your thighs. In one swift motion, he lifted you off the ground entirely now, your legs instinctively wrapping around him as he held you securely. "Let me show you why this is home, baby," he whispered, his voice husky with promise. His hands gripped you tighter, his fingers pressing into your thighs as he carried you to the bed, the intensity of his gaze locking you in

"Please" you pleaded, your voice hoarse with emotion. He needed no further encouragement. The way he carried you was exhilarating. You ran your hands over his hair gripping it slightly just enough to let him know he was yours. The world narrowed down to this moment as he laid you gently on the soft sheets, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned over you, his hands tracing the curves of your body, from your shoulders to the swell of your tits. He teased your nipples through the fabric of your top, making you arch your back and moan softly.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, can’t ever leave me" he said firmly, his voice thick with desire. He peeled off your clothes, revealing your flawless skin and the tits he adores. His mouth watered at the sight as he lowered his head, taking a nipple into his warm mouth, sucking gently. You clutched his shoulders, feeling the sensations radiate through your body. He kissed his way down your stomach, leaving a trail of wet kisses and soft bites. When he reached your throbbing pussy, he teased you, blowing gently on your wetness, making you squirm.

"Please, Jude," you begged, your voice laced with desperation. He smiled against your inner thigh, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you. He spread your legs wider, exposing your glistening pussy. With slow, deliberate movements, he slid two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as he thrust his fingers in and out, building the pleasure.

"You're so wet for me, baby," he growls, his voice filled with satisfaction. He added a third finger over time, stretching you, filling you with a delicious fullness. You were on the edge, trembling, when he used his thumb to circle your clit, sending you spiraling towards an intense orgasm. He just watched you fall apart simply off the work of his fingers, satisfied, smug, possessively sure that you were his. "Cum for me, Y/N," he urged, his breath hot on your sensitive skin. You tightened around his fingers, crying out his name as your body shuddered through a powerful climax. You were still riding the waves of pleasure as he lined his cock up with your entrance, lifting your hips up and guiding his length inside. You were so wet it was seamless. “You’re such good girl f’me. You okay, baby?” You nodded as he began to thrust after he let you adjust. You and Jude just understood each other's bodies, what each of you needed but Jude was asking maybe from a more emotional standpoint because frankly… he stretched you out every time with how big he was. Naturally, he found the perfect spot again and again in quick succession. He pinned you under him as he continued to thrust deep inside you. The sensation of being filled by him was overwhelming. You clung to him, your nails digging into his muscular back as his strokes began to get harder, his hips snapping against yours. He set a relentless pace, pounding into you, his balls slapping against your ass. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, mingling with your desperate moans.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you whined, your eyes rolling back in ecstasy. He leant down, capturing your mouth in a fierce kiss, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his thrusts. “I missed you so much.” You whimpered as your waterline filled with tears you weren’t sure were from the physical heaven you were in or from the separation. You tried to put your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans knowing people were home but he wasn’t having that. He pinned your hands above you with restraint as he continued to fuck you.

“Wanna hear how good I’m making you feel back at home now, angel.” He whispered against your neck before biting your sensitive skin only pulling another, louder, moan from you.

“Fuck….” you whined. “Please, I’m so close, I’m so… f-fuck!… I’m so close.” You told him squeezing your eyes shut as you started to feel your orgasm approaching. He was so deep inside that you could feel every ridge and vein. You could feel the pleasure coiling tightly in your core. Jude could feel it too, he reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit in firm circles as he fucked you with abandon. You were both slick with a sheen, your bodies glistening in the dim light, as you surrendered to the raw, primal urge. "I'm gonna cum, baby," you whispered, your voice shaky.

"Cum with me, angel," he panted, his jaw clenching as he fought for control. You felt his cock twitch inside you, and that's all it took. Your mind turned to complete mush. His thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier and harsher. “Cum all over my cock, yeah? Make a fucking mess on my cock.” Jude babbled as you came, your body aching, your eyes squeezing shut again. You cried out, your pussy clenching around him as you exploded in a mind-numbing orgasm. Jude followed his body tensing as he filled you with his hot cum, rope after rope, triggering another wave of pleasure.

“Baby” you moaned, feeling his release painting your insides. You were gasping as Jude fucked you through your high.

“That’s my good girl.” He said as he let his weight come down on top of you completely spent as you both breathed heavily, whispering ‘I love yous’ back and forth. As your hearts pounded and your bodies trembled, Jude moved to collapse himself onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms. You snuggled against his chest, feeling his heart thumping against your ear. “You okay?” He asked gently. You hummed letting your eyes flutter closed. “Get you cleaned up in a second. Just need you right here with me for a second.” He cooed holding you tighter.

“With you at home.” You quietly added. He smiled hearing your voice.

“Yeah at home, angel. Not ever leaving me again," he vowed, kissing the top of your head. "We belong together, you and me, forever." You smiled, wiping away a stray tear, knowing that this time, it's forever. You were here to stay.

“I like being at home, I think.” You sheepishly but cheekily smiled with a giggle as you inspected Jude’s pretty flushed face. He shook his head with a roll of his eyes but still kissing your forehead. And whilst you were in this bubble of bliss of reconciliation and confirmation in your relationship, Jobe and Toby unfortunately downstairs couldn’t get the tellys sound loud enough to not hear some of the noise echoing from Jude’s room.

“I think they’ll be alright.” Toby laughed, turning up the volume one more notch, not being able to stomach another ‘good girl’ or ‘please.’

“Yeah clearly.” Jobe grimaced. “Honestly, just shut the fuck up, we get it.” He groaned, placing his hands over his ears falling back into the couch. They were laughing, complaining about you and Jude, and making snide jokes as they continued a game of fifa but deep down Jobe and Toby both were fairly relieved this fall out was fast repaired.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 22 - Galería D’ange xx

#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 1 year ago

Text

All Too Well (Superstar Ch 8)

'Cause there we are again when I loved you so

Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known

It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

The Reader is left reeling after the Man City celebration.

Roy Kent x Reader

7.5k words

Warnings: Language, lots and lots of angst, some yelling

Finally! Thank you for sticking around through all the pain. Hopefully you can see the light at the end of the tunnel!

Read (Roy's Version) here!

“I don’t have go to work,” Keeley said to me as I handed her a travel mug of coffee. “I can cancel. Honestly, they can handle one shoot without me there to hold their hands,” she offered earnestly. “Or I can call Jamie to come spend some time with you, he wouldn’t mind, he adores you. The two of you could watch some telly, go out to lunch-”

I shook my head, my body feeling empty after releasing probably every drop of water through tears. “It’s fine, Keeley. I’ll probably just shower and put on a movie. Distract myself a bit.”

Her face was full of concern. “You sure babe?”

“I’m sure.”

Keeley sighed and began gathering her things. “Alright. But call me if you need me. Or call Jamie. We’ll be here in an instant, alright?” She pulled me into a suffocating hug, not caring about my morning breath or the ruined makeup that I couldn’t be bothered to take off the night before. “We love you, you know that?”

I nodded into her shoulder, a small part of me not wanting to let go. “I know.”

After Keeley left, I did as I said and jumped into the shower, planning on spending an unreasonable amount of time in there. The scalding hot water allowed me to feel something besides the aching in my heart. Despite what I’d thought earlier, there was still water in my body, because I sobbed the entire time I stood under the shower, trying to scrub the pain away along with the glitter from the club.

I only managed to get out the glitter.

I put on some sweatpants and let my wet hair drip onto the old t-shirt I’d thrown on. I wasn’t going anywhere; it didn’t matter what I looked like. I had just settled myself on the couch and was absently searching for a movie when I heard a knock on the door.

And, despite myself, I knew that knock.

Praying that I was wrong and that Keeley had sent Jamie to check on me after all, I hesitantly got up and walked to the door. With a trembling hand, I opened it, hoping to see the striker’s annoyingly pretty face in front of me.

Nope.

“Roy,” I choked out, blinking.

“What the fuck did you do?” he demanded, shoving past me and into my flat.

I closed the door behind him. “The fuck are you talking about?” I didn’t bother hiding the confusion on my face.

He ran his hands over his face, which looked like he’d barely slept the night before either. “Why the fuck did I get a bunch of texts this morning sending me this?” He held up his mobile to me.

Boy-Toy Roy Gets Laid with Aide

I blinked as I read and re-read the headline several times. “What the fuck is that?” I gasped.

“Someone overheard you telling Brittany Brett all about how you’re ‘shagging Roy Kent’,” he spat out, his face a deep red. “All about how I ‘take care of’ you.” He shook his head, hurt behind the anger in his eyes. “I fucking told you I hate the press. I fucking told you I didn’t want this fucking circus. And then you turn around and do this shit.”

“No, Roy, I didn’t-”

He held his hands up. “Fucking save it. I really fucking thought this-” He gestured between us. “-was different. That you were different. But you’re just like everyone else. Using Roy fucking Kent to get in the papers and make a name for yourself.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “How could I be so fucking stupid?” he grumbled, more to himself. “I was really stupid enough to think you’d want me, just Roy.”

I took a step towards him. “Come on, Roy you know I lo-”

“No.” His voice was strangled. “No, I don’t fucking know that. Not anymore” He sighed. “You just fucking stop talking about me, alright? I don’t want to make things worse, so I’m not going to ask Lasso to fire you. But you just leave me the fuck alone, alright?” He blinked several times, clearly pushing back tears. “Do at least that much for me,” he rasped. He turned and grasped the doorknob, yanking the door open and slamming it behind him.

My flat was too quiet, too still, after he left. I managed to get myself onto the couch, my head reeling with everything he’d just said. It had been one thing to have cracks on my heart; now it felt completely pummeled, destroyed to oblivion.

It was past noon when I finally dared to look at my mobile. As I feared, there were messages from my girlfriends, Keeley, and Rebecca, all sending me the article and asking if I knew anything about it. But the only message I cared about was from my mum:

Want me to come over?

It felt like only seconds after I sent my answer that she was at my door, pulling me into a hug the moment I let her in. Her arms tightened around me, her simple shh, shh more than enough to bring back all the tears I’d thought I’d run out of. She walked me to the couch, where I curled up into her arms and let out harsh sobs that I didn’t know I was capable of.

I’d had my heart broken before. Boyfriends dumping me, friendships ending, pets dying, failing tests. And each time, my mum held me and let my tears soak her collar as she stroked my hair, managing to make everything better just by being there. But this was a hurt that I knew a couple kisses from my mother wouldn’t fix. This was the kind of hurt that I knew I’d be carrying my whole life.

Roy was it. Not because I had this lifelong crush on him, not because he was my favorite footballer and it was destiny for us to end up together. But because he was Roy. He was the person I was always happy to see, who never failed to make me smile, who made me feel safe, who I could spend hours doing nothing with, who I wanted to spend forever doing nothing with. And I knew deep down that he had truly felt the same way.

And now it was gone.

I wasn’t sure how long I cried for. The only thing I knew for sure was that when I finally looked up, my mother was looking at me with pain in her eyes, that pain only a parent watching their child suffer can know.

“This isn’t about the article, is it?” she whispered.

I shook my head. “We broke up,” I croaked out, my voice nearly gone. “Last night. And this morning whatever this article is came out, and Roy came and told me off, and now I think…” A sharp pain stabbed me in the chest. “I think we’re totally broken.” My voice cracked. “I’m totally broken.”

Her arms tightened around me. “Oh, love,” she cooed.

She stayed for a few hours. For a while, she just held me while I cried. Eventually, she put on the telly and moved to my bedroom to get a load of laundry to wash. Then to the kitchen, where I could hear her making more than enough food to get me through a couple of days. By the time the sun began to set, she was back on the couch with me, folding clothes as we watched some trash reality show.

“Have you read the article?” Her question was barely above a whisper.

With a sigh, I shook my head, wincing from both the mental pain and the realization that I had a stinging headache, the kind that comes after so much crying. “No, not yet.” I paused. “Is it bad?

My mum let out a small hum of pity, her gaze focused on the trousers she was folding. “It’s… not great.”

I grabbed my phone, went to the text from Keeley (Babes, have you seen this???), and opened the link she sent.

My face burned as I read the article. It was crude, painting me as a gold-digger, only interested in Roy for his fame, his money, even alluding to the idea that I may have gotten my job because of him. Although the article didn’t name me, it was sickening to see myself talked about so callously, to see private details about my relationship shared without much thought. And it suddenly made sense why Roy was so angry with me that morning, why he looked so livid and betrayed. I wouldn’t want anything to do with me either if I’d read this article.

“It makes me out to be an absolute slag,” I choked out, fighting the urge to throw my mobile across the room.

“You’re not,” my mother assured me, taking my phone and putting it on the coffee table. “I know you’re not. You know you’re not.” She gave me a squeeze. “And Roy knows you’re not.”

I shook my head. “He thinks I did this.”

My mum held me for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “He’ll come around,” she murmured. “If he really loves you, if he’s really the fella for you, he’ll come around.”

If only he would.

After three days of dodging phone calls and text messages, I finally answered when Ted called.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice. “Keeley said you got food poisoning. Golly, I don’t think I’ve ever had food poisoning last three days before. Must be awful.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s pretty rubbish,” I muttered. “But I’ll be back tomorrow, alright?”

I could almost hear Ted’s smile through the phone. “Aw, I’m so glad, hon’. We all miss seeing your face. Roy misses you most of all.” He let out a small laugh. “You should see him, even more grumpy than usual, he might as well be hangin’ out with Snow White.”

My heart leapt into my throat at the mention of Roy. “Uh-huh,” was all I could get out. “I should rest so I’m ready for work tomorrow. Thank you for checking on me, Coach.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow!” he called cheerfully before we hung up.

‘Tomorrow’ came much faster than expected. I dragged myself out of bed, my entire body heavy, and slowly forced myself through the motions: shower, breakfast, teeth, makeup, clothes. I agonized over an outfit to wear; wearing anything Richmond made me feel sick to my stomach. I found a random jumper and put it on, not bothering to look in the mirror; all I’d see was the tiredness in my eyes that no makeup could conceal.

Arriving at the Dog Track was worse than getting ready for it. Immediately my eyes were drawn to one thing: that stupid giant black car. Of course he was already there. Of course.

I parked clear across the lot, not caring about how many steps that added to my walk. As I entered the building, I did my best to ignore how hard my heart was hammering in my chest. My knuckles were white from gripping my bag so tight, and I knew my face was just as pale. Each step I took towards the changing room was heavy with the knowledge that the closer I got, the more real this all became. Roy wouldn’t greet me with a clandestine smirk. He wouldn’t glance over to see if the other gaffers were around so he could give me a kiss. He wouldn’t spend all day sending me texts about our after-work plans.

He wouldn’t be my boyfriend.

The chatter in the changing room quieted as I entered. I nodded to the boys, who offered tiny waves and quiet greetings, welcoming me back. No one quite looked me in the eye. It made sense; even though none of them knew about Roy and me, they had all suspected there was something between us, even if it was just a mutual attraction. And honestly, it was painfully obvious who that article was speculating about; I was one of the only people at Nelson Road that Roy publicly tolerated, and I had been at the club that night. It didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together.

It was Jamie who nodded to me, making full eye contact and offering a wide grin as if it were a normal day at the Dog Track. “Welcome back. Food poisoning all better then?”

He’s an angel. “Much better, thanks.” I smiled at him, focusing on his face. “Got plenty of catch-up to do, so I’ll see you later.”

Jamie shot me a wink, his friendliness giving me just enough strength to turn my attention to the offices. Ted and Beard sat at their desks, feet up and coffees in hand. Ted was speaking animatedly as Beard nodded, neither one noticing me until I was in the doorway.

“Call me John Travolta, because Welcome Back, Kotter!” Ted exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He walked over and threw an arm around my shoulder. “I was starting to think you’d run off on us and gotten a job at another club.”

I managed a small chuckle. “My dad’d kill me if I worked for anyone but Richmond.”

Ted nodded. “Loyal. Gotta love it.”

A cynical snort from the adjoining office sent a jolt down my spine. It also caught Ted’s attention.

“Guess who’s back, Roy!” he called, steering me to the door I had spent all morning dreading. “And looking better than ever, I might add.” Ted shot me a grin. “Well, we better start heading to practice. Roy, you think you could hang back and catch her up? Thanks.” He didn’t wait for an answer before turning on his heel and walking out, Beard following him out through the changing room.

I stayed frozen in the doorway, avoiding turning my head towards Roy. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him still sitting at his desk, fists clenched, jaw set. I was thrown back to our first meeting, the day I started at Richmond, when he looked so annoyed by my existence. Now, however, he was more than annoyed. He hated me.

Doing my best to ignore the pit in my stomach, I went to my own desk and started taking out my things. I figured Roy wasn’t about to tell me a thing, but I figured I could piece together what I’d missed pretty easily. Plus, I could always go snooping around Ted’s desk if I needed to. Right as I was opening up my email, something caught my eye.

“Where’s my sticky note?” A lump formed in my throat. My little orange sticky note, the one that read “To my biggest fan. XOXO Roy Kent”, was gone. I turned around in my seat to face Roy, who still hadn’t moved. “Did you really fucking take it?” My voice was small, overflowing with all the hurt I’d been holding the past few days.

When he didn’t answer, I swiveled back around, letting a couple silent tears splash onto my desk. I couldn’t believe he’d take it, probably crumpled it up and thrown it away. Maybe even ripped it up. It was a stupid little sticky note- a joke more than anything else- but it felt like someone had yanked my heart out of my chest and taken out to the pitch to be kicked around by the guys.

“I didn’t fucking take it.”

I spun around, eyes wide. Roy’s head was turned to the side, only showing me his profile. His fists were still clenched on top of his desk.

“I didn’t take the note,” he repeated. “Keeley came in on Monday to grab some of your work shit. She took it with her.”

“Oh.” That was all I could say before I thought to add, “’m sorry.”

With a grunt, Roy stood, still not looking at me, and trudged out of the office, presumably to the pitch. I sat in my chair for a while, not moving, trying to block out all my thoughts. My attempt at emptying my brain was interrupted by a tiny knock on my door.

Keeley waved at me. “Hey, babes.” She walked over and sat in Roy’s chair, rolling it close to me. “Glad you’re back.”

I nodded. “At least someone is,” I sighed. I stared down at her shoes, all purple and shiny and way too high for me. “Keels, did you take my sticky note?”

She tilted her head. “Your sticky-?” Her eyes lit up. “Oh. Shit, yeah. When I was getting the stuff I brought to you on Monday I grabbed it. I kind of figured you wouldn’t want that thing staring at you the day you came back, you know?” She paused. “I hope that was alright. I didn’t chuck it or anything. I can go get it for you if you want.”

“No, that’s fine,” I hummed. “You did the right thing. It would’ve crushed me to see it up there. Just wish you’d let me know; I asked Roy about it.”

Keeley’s eyes nearly popped out of her head., “You guys talked?”

I snorted. “Barely. I asked if he took the note, he told me that you did.” My voice grew miniscule. “He wouldn’t even look at me.” A few tears spilled into my lap.

“Oh babe.” In an instant, Keely was out of the chair and was instead crouched down in front of me, stroking my arm sweetly. “It’s alright. D’you need to go home? I could drive you. Rebecca wouldn’t mind.” She paused. “She doesn’t know of course, but she assumes the article has something to do with you.” Keeley shook her head. “Shit piece, by the way. I’m trying to ask around and find out where the hell it came from, it’s absolute slander-”

“It’s my fault,” I whispered, wiping my wet cheeks. “At the club, Brittany Brett was all over me, and I got so mad I let it slip that I was dating Roy. I can only assume that either someone was listening in and twisted everything, or that she went and told a reporter just enough for them to run with.” I shook my head. “I’m such an idiot.”

Keeley squeezed my arm. “Hey.” Her voice was gentle. “Maybe you made a mistake. But this isn’t your fault. The damn media has no respect. Believe me.” She thought a moment. “Could you tell Roy about all this? Wouldn’t that help fix things?”

I shook my head. “He doesn’t want to see me. Or talk to me. He probably just wishes I’d drop dead.” I buried my face in my hands. “I kinda wish it too,” I joked dryly.

“Hey now.” Keeley pulled down my hands. “None of that rubbish. Just… give him time.” Keeley nodded. “Give him time.”

Time seemed to be all there was. Without Roy to keep me busy, I found myself alone in my flat most nights. No Roy, no Phoebe, no Oscar. Just me, on the couch eating takeaway and watching garbage reality shows. I went out with my friends a couple of times, but my heart wasn’t in it.

They’d initially asked me about Roy and the article, which I quickly shut down. I explained that Roy and I had a professional relationship, maybe a friendly one at times, and that the article was nothing but rubbish. Whether or not they believed me, they stopped bringing it up.

I did my best to avoid my parents’ house. On the rare occasions I did go over, I noted that while all my awkward teen photos were back, the photo of me with my cardboard cutout was still missing. I didn’t even bother going up to my old room; my dad was kind enough to run upstairs if I needed something from there. He was also thoughtful enough to not ask a single question about what happened; I assumed my mum filled him in on the necessary information.

At work, most people treated me gently. Only Jamie, Ted, and Beard treated me normally; Jamie because he knew all the details, Ted and Beard probably because they knew none of the details. Everyone else had bits and pieces, some true, some completely fabricated. But everyone knew that something was going on.

All that time was what led to me sitting on my couch, eating something I barely registered and watching something I didn’t care about, when a quick knock came from my door.

“Hello? You home?”

Frowning, I walked over to the door and opened it. Jamie Tartt stood there, holding a box in his hands and looking uncharacteristically bashful.

“Um, hey Jamie.” I blinked a few times. “What’re you doing here?” Jamie Tartt at my door in a neon pink hoodie and a fanny pack strapped to his chest was not something I’d planned on seeing, maybe ever.

He cleared his throat and took a step inside, looking nothing like the cocky player I knew. “I, uh, have some stuff for you.” He nodded down towards the box. “From Roy,” he added quietly.

My eyes darted to the box. Inside I could see my things from Roy’s house, things I’d left there over the past few months. A lump formed in my throat as I tried to hold myself together and not break down in front of Jamie freaking Tartt.

“Oh. Right. Thanks.”

“Should I… put it somewhere?”

I closed the door behind him, not willing to have any of my neighbors walk by and witness what felt like yet another humiliating moment. “Uh, yeah, just there by the couch.” Jamie did as I asked easily, then faced me expectantly. I sighed. “Thanks,” I repeated.

He offered me a tight smile. “You alright?”

“Yes. No. I don’t fucking know.” I let out a dry laugh. “Sorry you got roped into doing this.”

Jamie shook his head. “’s alright. He’s my friend. You’re my friend. I don’ mind doin’ stuff for my friends.” He glanced at the box. “Want me to, uh stay while you go through all that? I won’t watch or nothing. Just so you don’t have to be by yourself.”

My heart melted at the offer I didn’t know I needed. Keeley had a good one. “That’d be nice. Thanks, Jamie.”

He flopped onto my couch and took out his phone. “No problem.”

While he started scrolling through obnoxious TikToks, I knelt down and started rummaging through the box. Clothes, the extra toothbrush that I kept by Roy’s sink, my favorite mug for tea, the books I’d left on his nightstand, the Spice Girls CD he reluctantly let me play in his car. Every piece of evidence that I spent almost as much time at his place as I did at mine.

Well, almost every piece.

“Jamie,” I started, frowning. “Was this all there was?”

Jamie nodded absently, scrolling to a new video. “Yeah. That’s all he gave me.” He glanced at me. “Somethin’ missing?”

I nodded, digging through the box once more. “One of my Richmond sweatshirts. My favorite one, actually. Had it since I was in uni. It’s kind of my good luck charm. Like, every time I’ve worn it, I aced an exam, or the Greyhounds won, or my mum made my favorite dinner without me having to ask. And I know I left it there.”

“Want me to ask him about it?” Jamie offered.

“No,” I sighed, putting down the mug I’d been holding. “He, um, probably hasn’t found it yet. It’s fine. I’ll survive.”

Jamie joined me on the floor, sitting cross-legged and laying his hand on my arm. “Fuck yeah you will. You can survive anythin’, you hear me?” He looked thoughtful. “Would it help if I told you that Roy’s even more fuckin’ miserable than usual?”

I shook my head with a small chuckle. “I don’t think it would.” I laid my hand on top of his. “But thanks for trying, Jamie.”

He smiled at me, a soft, friendly smile, different than the one he usually wore on the pitch. “Anytime.”

As I strolled through the supermarket, I caught a flash of familiar blonde. My heart stuttered as I tried to focus on finding something to make for dinner. Maybe if I quickly grabbed what I needed, went straight to the clerk, walked out swiftly, I could avoid-

“Hi!”

Phoebe beamed up at me, still in her school uniform. At the end of the aisle, her mum held a shopping basket, an embarrassed look on her face.

“Hey, Pheebs,” I managed, trying to sound as excited as the child who stared up at me. “How’re you, sweetheart?”

She gave a small nod. “I’m fine, thank you.” A frown twitched on her face. “I’ve missed you. How come you don’t hang out with me and Uncle Roy and Oscar anymore?”

A lump formed in my throat. “Oh. Well, see, your Uncle Roy and I…” Fuck. How do you tell an eight-year-old girl that you and her uncle broke up and your heart is currently sitting in a million little pieces, and each piece was still desperately in love with him?

“Hey there.” With perfect timing, Roy’s sister approached, a tight smile on her face. “Sorry about Phoebe, she just sprinted on over the moment she saw you.”

I shook my head. “No, no it’s alright-” I stopped myself, realizing we were now nothing more than acquaintances. “It’s alright, Dr. O’Sullivan,” I finished.

Sadness flashed across her face for a moment before the forced smile returned. “Well, it’s good to see you.” She probably wanted to get out of the conversation as quickly as I did.

But Phoebe had other plans.

“Are you still coming to my ballet recital?” Her blue eyes, filled with childish hope, bore into mine. “You promised,” she reminded me.

Fuck. I glanced up at Dr. O’Sullivan, whose face was now a complete grimace. “Oh, yeah, of course.” What else could I say? “If, um, if your mum can get a ticket for me.”

Dr. O’Sullivan’s face softened. “Yeah, I can get you one.” She smiled at me- a real smile this time- and nodded. “I could drop it off at Nelson Road, if you’d like, next time I drop Phoebe off with-” She stopped. “Next time I drop her off,” she finished.

I shrugged. “You can just leave it with Higgins. Or Will. Honestly, you could even leave it with Dani Rojas. They’d all make sure it got to me.” I was starting to babble.

She gave me a pity laugh. “I’ll make sure it gets to you,” she assured me. She turned to Phoebe. “Love, why don’t you go pick out an ice cream for us to have after dinner, hmm?” Phoebe scurried down the aisle before her mother finished her sentence. Dr. O’Sullivan turned back to me. “Hey,” she started softly. “You don’t have to come if it’s too uncomfortable. Phoebe’ll understand.”

“I’d like to go,” I confirmed. “If it’s alright with you, I mean. I don’t want to intrude or make things… weird.”

“Things’ll definitely be weird,” Dr. O’Sullivan said with a dry laugh. “But it’d mean the world to Phoebe. We’d love to see you there.” She paused, clearly unsure if she should continue. “Listen. I don’t know what happened between you and my brother. But I will say that Phoebe misses you. I miss you. And if you don’t come to the ballet, I completely get it. But please don’t avoid us because you think we don’t want to see you. Alright?”

I hadn’t realized that tears were forming in my eyes until they threatened to fall. “Alright,” I whispered. “Friday, right?”

“Friday,” she confirmed as Phoebe ran back, holding up a box of ice lollies.

Phoebe looked up at me, clutching her ice cream. “I’ll see you at my recital, right?”

I nodded. “Yes. I’ll bring pink roses,” I promised.

Immediately, Phoebe wrapped her arms around me. Without hesitation, I hugged her back, giving her a tight squeeze. God, I missed her. I missed taking Oscar for walks together. I missed sitting on Roy’s back porch, taking turns reading out loud. I missed taking her out to get groceries so Roy could make dinner for the three of us. I missed going over to her house and laughing with her mom while Phoebe and Roy played together. I missed being part of Roy’s family.

I blinked back the tears before letting go of Phoebe. “I’ll see you two Friday then,” I managed to choke out.

Dr. O’Sullivan and Phoebe each offered me one more smile and wave- Phoebe’s smile taking up her whole face, Dr. O’Sullivan’s smile filled with sadness- and then they were gone. I squeezed my eyes shut, pretending that my heart didn’t just manage to break even more than it already had, and made myself finish my shopping.

“You’re really going?” Keeley looked at me with concern, clutching one of Rebecca’s pillows. “You don’t think that’d be too hard?”

I shrugged, picking at a loose string on my jumper. “It’ll be hard as fuck,” I admitted. “But it’s Phoebe. She doesn’t deserve to have me break my promise just because… because…” I trailed off, unable to finish, staring down at the ticket Higgins had handed me earlier that afternoon that now sat on Rebecca’s coffee table.

Rebecca joined us on the couch, shoving a glass filled with something from her bar into my hand. “But no one would blame you for not going,” she pointed out.

With my permission, Keeley had filled Rebecca in on all that had happened. She was a bit miffed to be kept in the dark for so long, but she quickly got over it in favor of being a supportive friend. She’d gone so far as to offer to move me to a different office or even a different position at the club, but I declined; Roy was right, it was best not to make things look worse. Instead, I allowed her and Keeley to schedule daily check-ins with me to make sure I was feeling alright.

“I’d blame myself,” I argued. “No matter what’s happening with me and Roy, I made a promise to that little girl. And I’m going to be there, no matter what.” Even if Roy is there. Even if he brings Brittany fucking Brett or some other gorgeous woman.

Keeley patted my knee lovingly. “If you’re sure you can handle it,” she murmured. “But if you can’t, you just text me and I’ll meet you at whatever bar you want, and we’ll drink until London runs out of booze.”

Rebecca added her hand on top of Keeley’s. “Me too.”

I stared at their hands, the hands of my friends who made me feel loved, who made me feel strong, like I would survive the pain I was feeling, despite the deep ache that still rested in my chest. I placed my hand on top of theirs. “Thank you,” I whispered.

We sat and chatted for a bit more before I reminded them that I had work to do and headed down to my office, feeling good about my decision to attend the ballet. Avoiding looking at Roy, I settled myself into my desk and looked at some emails I hadn’t gotten to yet that day.

For the millionth time since he arrived at Richmond, Dario poked his head into the office, beaming when he saw me, greeting me in his usual complimentary way. Even with his back to me, I could feel Roy tense up, the heat radiating off of him and smacking me in the face.

I grimaced at Dario, hoping he’d see it as more of a smile. “Need something?”

He shook his head. “No. Well, yes.” He paused, glancing over at Roy, who was still as a statue. “Could we talk privat-”

In a flash, Roy was up and stomping out of the office, the way he often left these days. With a sigh, I turned back to Dario. “Go on then.”

His radiant smile had returned. “Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”

“Oh.” I prayed that Roy was far, far away from this conversation. I prayed that he never found out about it. While I was at it, I prayed that I’d misheard the question. “Dinner?”

“Yes.” Dario nodded, clearly excited. “With me.”

I blinked a few times. “I, um, don’t think your girlfriend would like that very much, hmm?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light and friendly, as if this chat wasn’t causing me absolute turmoil. “She’d probably murder me.”

Dario shook his head earnestly. “Oh, you have not heard then? Brittany broke up with me.”

This conversation cannot get worse. “Really?” Despite my best efforts, my voice shook at this development.

“Si. She said that, while we had fun, she wanted something more serious, and she did not want it with me.” He shrugged, clearly taking his breakup better than I was taking mine. “I will be okay though. Especially-” He grin once again filled his handsome face. “-if you go to dinner with me.”

I shook my head. “Thank you, Dario, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Because of Coach Kent?” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Because I know everyone says you have a crush on him, but honestly, belleza, I think you and I would have more fun together.” He paused, thinking. “Besides, he is going to get back with Brittany any day now.”

“I’m sorry?” If my heart sank any lower, it would be in the ocean by now.

He nodded. “This is what Brittany told me. She and Coach Kent are going to get back together.

This man needs to get out of my office before I start crying. “Thank you for asking, Dario,” I started, trying to keep my voice even. “But I’m going to have to say no to dinner.” Without another word, I got up and walked briskly past him, through the changing room, and out to the parking lot, where I sat in my car and cried.

I composed myself and went back to work before leaving to go get ready for the ballet recital. The theatre was walking distance from me, so I allowed myself a nice stroll, figuring that being outside would be good for me. On my way, I popped by a flower stand to pick up pink roses for Phoebe, taking great care to pick the prettiest, brightest ones I could find. Even if I felt like my world had ended, at least I’d get to see the smile on that little girl’s face when she saw the flowers I’d promised her.

When I arrived, the theatre was already packed with families, all excited to see their tiny children jump and dance about. I snuck a glance at my ticket and asked an usher to point me in the direction of my assigned seat, right on the aisle. I heaved a sigh of relief as I sank into it, unable to believe my luck. I hadn’t run into anyone I knew, so I’d have the whole show to prepare myself for the inevitability of coming face to face with-

“Oi.”

My head snapped up. Roy stood over me, programme clutched in his hands. His frown seemed permanently etched into his face these days, and his eyes were unreadable as they stared down at me.

“You came,” he grunted.

All I could manage was, “I came.” I swallowed hard, praying my tight grip didn’t squash my flowers.

Roy squinted at the letter on the arm of my seat. “I think that’s me,” he mumbled, pointing at the empty seat next to me.

“Oh,” was all I said. I stood, intending to step out into the aisle so he could go in, but before I could shift, he made his way past me, having to press his body against mine in the tiny pathway between rows. My heart fluttered at the first bit of physical contact we’d had in weeks; his body felt so familiar, so comfortable. More than anything, I wanted to freeze that moment, feeling his warm chest pressed against mine, feeling like home.

It was far too soon when he settled in his seat and I dropped back into mine. I fidgeted with the flowers in my hand, heart hammering so loud I was sure Roy could hear it.

“You brought them.”

I turned to him. “Hmm?”

He gestured towards the roses on my lap. “The fucking roses. For Phoebe. You actually brought them.” He raised his thick eyebrows at me.

“’course I did,” I answered. “I promised, didn’t I?”

He stared at me for a moment, looking as if he was really seeing me for the first time. “You did.” He turned his attention to the empty stage. “Phoebe’ll be excited,” he mumbled.

I couldn’t think of anything else to add until I noticed Roy fiddling with the programme in his hands. “Shit, I didn’t see the programmes,” I muttered, starting to stand so I could find where they were being passed out before the show started.

Roy let out one of his signature sighs and held his up. “Have mine.”

“You sure?” I asked as I sat back down. When he nodded, I took the programme out of his hand. “Thanks.”

With a curt nod, he took out his phone and checked the screen. “Fucking hell, is this thing ever gonna start?”

Unable to resist slipping back into old patterns, I snorted as he returned his mobile to his jacket pocket. “Why? D’you and Jamie Tartt have a hot date or somethin’?”

“No,” he huffed. He paused, tapping his finger on his knee, eyebrow raised. “D’you and fucking Dario Vargas have one?”

My heart stuttered as I frantically shook my head. “What? No. Why the hell-”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats, the show is about to begin!” an annoyingly bright voice called over the sound system.

It took every ounce of strength I had to sit in my seat and turn my focus to the dancers onstage. All I could think about was Roy, sitting beside me. Roy, watching his niece dance. Roy, who didn’t start yelling the moment he saw me. Roy, who gave me his programme.

After the show ended and the dancers had taken their tiny bows, Roy nodded to me. “My sister’s supposed to meet me out front with Phoebe. You can come with me.” He paused. “If you want.”

I nodded. “Thanks. I, um, I’d like to give Phoebe her flowers.”

“Alright.” He stood and gestured towards the exit. “Let’s go then.”

I stood up and exited the row. For just a millisecond, I felt Roy’s fingers brush mine before quickly pulling away. When I glanced back, he was wearing his stoniest expression, looking ahead of me into the crowd, but the pink tint to his cheeks was undeniable. My heart slammed against my chest; he forgot. For a brief moment, Roy Kent forgot he hated me. He forgot that we weren’t together. For a brief moment, he had reverted to the Roy who would naturally grab my hand as we walked through a crowd. The realization brought a new ache to my chest, a dull one now, anchored in… well, hope.

We briskly walked outside the theatre, weaving our way through the crowd of families all trying to find their own little dancers. I glanced at Roy, wondering if I should revisit his question about Dario and me. After all, Roy was the one who brought it up in the first place.

“Roy, I-”

“Uncle Roy!” Still clad in her leotard and tutu, Phoebe burst through the cluster of people around us, launching herself into Roy’s arms, her mother trailing behind her.

He squeezed her back before letting go. “You did a great job,” he praised, nodding emphatically. “Some of those other kids absolutely fucked up, but not you.” He poked her on the nose. “Fucking amazing.”

“Thank you!” She turned her attention to me, her eyes bright. “You came!” She wrapped her arms around me.

I couldn’t help but laugh and hug her back. “And you were wonderful!” I let her go and held up the flowers. “I believe someone was expecting these.”

Her smile widened. “My pink roses!” She took them from my grasp, burying her nose in them. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Dr. O’Sullivan beamed at me. “Thank you so much for coming.” Without warning, she reached out and gave me a hug, the way she had done each time I left her house after dinner or when she came over to Roy’s to pick Phoebe up. A warm, friendly hug that told me she was happy to see me.

When we let go, I saw Roy eyeing me, his expression neither full of the adoration it used to hold nor the anger he’d displayed the past few weeks. It was just… thoughtful. Gears were turning behind his eyes, and I’d have let the Greyhounds be relegated again for a glimpse of what he was thinking.

I cleared my throat and turned back to Phoebe and her mum. “Thank you again for inviting me. I should get going.” With a small wave, I turned around.

“Where’re you parked?”

The sound of Roy’s gruff voice froze me in my tracks. “I, um, walked.” I blinked at him; I didn’t need to tell him that my flat was close by. He knew.

He nodded, that thoughtful expression still on his face. “I can drive you home. If you want.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dr. O’Sullivan raise her eyebrows. I ignored her and cleared my throat. “Sure. That’d be nice.”

Roy gave his niece and sister each another hug, then nodded down the street. “’m this way,” he mumbled.

The walk to his car was silent, but it was a different silence than the one that had clouded our office these few weeks. It felt much closer to the silence we used to share on his couch or in bed; comfortable. Once we got to his car, we both reached for the passenger door at the same time, just avoiding contact.

Roy cleared his throat and looked down. “Old habits,” he grumbled, yanking the door open for me. He quickly crossed to his side and started the car as I got myself settled. As he pulled out onto the street, he cleared his throat again. “You didn’t get to finish earlier.”

“Finish what?” I asked, although I knew exactly what he was referring to.

A giant sigh escaped his throat. “About Dario Vargas,” he answered through gritted teeth. “I know he asked you out. All that ‘talk privately’ shit.” He paused. “Not that it’s my fucking business.”

I crossed my arms. “You’re right. It’s not your business,” I retorted. I lowered my voice. “But I do want you to know, I turned him down. I’m not over-” I stopped myself from saying I’m not over you. “I’m not interested in him,” I finished.

Roy nodded. “Well, I’m glad.” He paused. “I mean, I’m glad you’re not going out with someone you’re not interested in.” He quieted, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought. “Oscar misses you.”

My heart somehow managed to crack again. “I miss him too,” I whispered.

“Yeah, he’s always fucking looking at the door, like he’s fucking waiting for you. Sniffs around where you liked to sit on the couch.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “If you, I don’t fucking know, wanted to pick him up and take him for a walk sometime, that’d be fine.”

I didn’t hesitate. “I’d love that.”

Roy’s mouth twitched, something I hadn’t seen in weeks. “Thought you would. Oscar’d love it too.”

“Could I pick him up tomorrow? After the match?”

Roy nodded. “Yeah. That’s fine. Just text me, yeah?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah.”

We were quiet for the rest of the drive, but it didn’t feel as painful. For the first time since the club, I didn’t feel like I was sinking around Roy. In fact, I felt the very real possibility that we could eventually be… well, maybe not friends, but friendly. It was the most I could hope for.

He parked in front of my building, his eyes flickering up towards my flat. “Alright then?”

I nodded, ignoring the sting that came from the realization that he wasn’t walking me up, for the first time ever. “Alright.” I got out of the car, unable to help but note that the stupid black car lingered until I was inside the building.

In my apartment, I moved around like I was walking on a cloud. Something in the car had felt so different, and it felt good. As I prepped something for dinner, I felt my mobile vibrate in my pocket. When I looked at the screen, I saw I had a simple text message from Roy Kent⚽:

Hey. Think we could talk?

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @sonyume @djarindroid @reading-blogs @thezimi @benedictscanvasmain @wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff @puckyou-forpuckssake @old-enough-to-know-better73 @ladygrey03 @soundofboots @justsomefunshit @geekgirl1996 @tedssweaters @queen-of-dumbasses @miaalltheway @di-essere-amato @shakespeareanwannabe @hotdoglamp @mal-adaptive-dreams @allthetroubleiveseen @netflix-addict @callmecasey81 @forgetmeaway @royalestrellas @kingleahhh @lemoonandlestars @ghxxxf

#roy kent superstar #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso #ted lasso fic

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mychampagne-mybubbles · 2 years ago

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A brief on Harry's public behavior that day

2022 Venice film festival

An answer to this respectful tweet

I am a Larrie, no need to say I love them both but I am also a professional, particularly mkt & branding is my area, I have read & learned a LOT about the industry thanks to them, probably like most of us here have, I am also a grown-up, I know how many unexplainable things from the 1D days have been inherited into our days trying to make sense of current situations & because, particularly, H has been involved in so many complex situations I’ve tried to be objective about it, looking for a better understanding despite I don’t like some. It's fine because I am still here. On the other hand, this showed me the raw reality of what the industry demands to be “successful“ in it and how real issues like pressure, money, power & a large number of people relying on just one man, puts an inappropriate responsibility on him.

First, I’d like to say that there is the larries pov but there is also the “world” or the GP too, I can try to justify whatever by looking at it through the larrie glasses but the truth is he came there for the first time and he acted as he did. I love him and that’s why I don’t want others to point at this behavior as disrespectful or poor when he is having an opportunity (that many actors don’t, for instance) of a lifetime. So, it’s not a matter of what a larrie state of mind “should be” or that st*pid octopus’ morals are, it is a matter of caring about a guy whose reputation is already damaged and dragged by the choices he took, the media, his team, the industry, the stunt… far away from who I think he is.

At this time, we were at one of the worst peaks of the stunt he & his so-called “gf” had just put out there the most controversial articles, we had pap pics almost every day, wrong quotes, etc... They got there and H ignored her under a “professional veil” to quit that attitude once they got into the theatre, to go back to spread kisses once again in NY streets later…and the only chance he got to show a bit of who he really is, how despite everything he was going through he is who we know he is… he puts into display this (alow me to name it) game. Don’t forget Harry has been in the industry for more than 10 years, he knows it's folds perfectly. I am telling you, this wasn’t read into considering his stunting state at the moment or his feeling towards despicable OW, I am a Larrie & I was concerned.

When I mentioned controversies, I didn’t imply his level of freedom, but the obvious DWD promo: based on spreading garbage all over. So it would have been nice if, for once, his circle or his moves weren't related to this kind of approach seeking headlines. However, to the general question: is H capable of choosing? Yes (minding ofc the doubt before the extension and consequences of them). Does this imply easiness, comfort, being happy with what the industry demands of this man or not having to deal with complex contracts (including his & the boys 1D’s)??? No. Don’t take me wrong, I am not saying his position is any lighter than it is or it looks like, there is too much involved and is disgusting.

I get how some see this specific moment as a rebellion and give them comfort, I understand it because I was thought like that too & the loop to see through is a bit complex & doesn’t get any better, as you can tell. It helped me a lot to give it a business pov, separate it from my feelings for them or from who I think they truly are, to understand the extent of the circus they (& us consequently) deal with.

I am not looking for an answer breaking down every step under the stunt, because I know too, believe me; but take this ( if you wish) as a wider scope on how things are seen. There is a larger audience (and intention), I chose my side, but that doesn’t erase the others and I mind how he is perceived. Precisely, being a larrie let us see clearly the incoherencies of the artist out there and walking that line is risky for him first. I wish his lame team could make a better, creative and mature strategy to protect him & give us a much healthier experience.

#cbask #harry styles #the artist vs the person #marketing #the industry #venice #2022

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qnewsau · 3 months ago

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Sydney Fringe Festival launches first-ever Queer Hub

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/sydney-fringe-festival-launches-first-ever-queer-hub/

Sydney Fringe Festival launches first-ever Queer Hub

Sydney Fringe Festival returns in spring with an explosion of unexpected! Since 2010, the Festival has been painting the town pink every September, and this year, it’s introducing the first-ever Queer Hub at the vibrant Qtopia Sydney.

Presented by QNews, the Queer Hub celebrates and showcases the incredible talent of LGBTQIA+ artists, performers, and storytellers.

For over a decade, Sydney Fringe has carved out spaces for Sydney’s diverse artistic community, many of whom identify as queer. The Queer Hub is the next exciting chapter in this mission!

Introducing Queer Hub

The Queer Hub is set to become a cornerstone of the Sydney Fringe Festival, providing a dedicated space for LGBTQIA+ talent to shine. This vibrant hub will feature an exciting lineup of 12 shows across theatre, cabaret and comedy. Each show features authentic voices, weaving together a rich tapestry of stories that reflect the joy and complexity of queer life.

From heartfelt dramas to laugh-out-loud comedies, Queer Hub is a space where artists can explore their identities, share their stories, and connect with audiences on a deeply personal level.

Sydney Fringe Festival

Sydney Fringe Festival returns 1 to 30 September to present an extraordinary program featuring over 400 events spanning theatre, music, comedy, dance, visual art, circus, and cabaret.

Tickets are now on sale, with highlights including two headline shows by the triple Grammy award-winning Soweto Gospel Choir, an expanded takeover of The Rocks as part of the vibrant Sydney Fringe Sideshow, and Just Desserts, a transcendent collaboration at Machine Hall presented by Maker’s Mark that unites three daring artists: ARIA-nominated R&B musician Ngaiire with future soul sound, award-winning pastry chef Anna Polyviou with delectable desserts, and cross-disciplinary artist ACID.FLWRS with stunning floral artistry.

This year, Sydney Fringe Festival taps into the city’s cultural landscape by creating four distinct precincts including the Inner West Precinct, Central Precinct, Eastern Precinct, and Greater Sydney Precinct. From vibrant urban centres to historic suburbs, each precinct offers a tailored experience that resonates with local narratives, fostering a deeper connection between festival-goers and the city’s diverse communities.

CEO and Festival Director Kerri Glasscock said: “Sydney Fringe Festival is back and better than ever with an incredible program platforming authentic stories, fresh talent, uplifting entertainment and boundary-pushing events.

“We’re thrilled to be activating new parts of the city, driving connectivity and community in unusual and unused spaces, and taking advantage of Sydney’s unique live performance venues such as Machine Hall and the launch of the festival-first Queer Hub at Qtopia Sydney.

“Joining a diverse mix of local and international acts taking over the city for the whole month of September, we are especially excited for audiences to experience the inspirational and life-affirming Soweto Gospel Choir across two headline shows.”

Queer Hub Program:

The Queer Hub lineup is packed with exciting and innovative performances! Explore the full program below:

A SHARK ATE MY PENIS: A HISTORY OF BOYS LIKE ME COMEDY, 17-21 SEP Laser Webber, a trans performer known for his award-winning comedy music and band ‘The Doubleclicks’, presents a one-person musical comedy about the history of trans men. Hollywood Fringe Touring Award

CLUBSCORE PRESENTS: CLUBSCORE THEATRE, 10-14 SEP CLUBSCORE has opened a portal, and we’re calling the future we want into being. SPORTS! SPORTS! SPORTS!

CRUSH THEATRE, 24-28 SEP Ever wondered why they call it a crush? Having a crush is heaven. Until it’s not. Until it’s literally hell on earth. Let Benjamin Quirk take you on a joyride that quickly becomes a trainwreck as he explores the highs and lows of having a crush.

DAZZA COMEDY, 3-7 SEP Oi mate, you missed the strangest encounter down the pub last Thursdee arvo. So grab a cold one and pull up a chair cause ‘DAZZA’ is gonna fill ya in with a show described by critics as “seriously top-class satire”.

DO YOU LIKE ME? THEATRE, 10-14 SEP ‘Do You Like Me’ is a thought-provoking one-act play that delves into the complexities of identity, love, and friendship. This production explores the self-discovery of Sam and Quinn, who navigate their queerness in different ways.

FAGS “R” US COMEDY, 5,12,17-21, 26 SEP Following a successful debut at Adelaide Fringe, ‘FAGS “R” US’ is making it’s debut in Sydney! A mixed bag of performances showcasing the best up and coming queer comedic talent in Sydney!

JOAN MARIE THEATRE, 3-7 SEP Two lesbians against the world, creating their own. Abstracted Shakespeare, Uzbek folk tales, poetry, and gay melodrama meld in a whirlwind of theatre. They are Olivia and Viola, they are poets and muses, they are Joan and Marie.

MONSTER CABARET & MUSICAL THEATRE, 24-28 SEP Drag artist, trans man, high school teacher: Florian Wild is the ‘MONSTER’!

PERSONAL SPACE COMEDY, 3-7 SEP Join Brigitta as she takes audiences on a nostalgic trip through the pages of her personal space; blending music, dance, and drag into a heartfelt – somewhat cringe – sapphic spectacle.

PURPLE PLASTIC MAORI CABARET & MUSICAL THEATRE, 17-21 SEP What do you do when you don’t want to be Maori, gay, or Asian-looking? You turn it into a cabaret, of course! Weaving together comedy, song, and storytelling, this production takes us on a glitzy and gritty journey of self-discovery and acceptance.

SIVVY PLATH’S BIRTHDAY PRESENT THEATRE, 10-14 SEP This riveting play on the dramatic, sadly short life of Sylvia Plath.

UNIVERSITY OF SYDNEY QUEER REVUE 2024 FRINGE COMEDY, 24-28 SEP In a world where the Queers are too busy to be merry and gay, maybe one last show couldn’t hurt… USYD Queer Revue presents ‘Straight to The Point’! You won’t want to miss this banger!

Check out the full Festival program at www.sydneyfringe.com

-The Sydney Fringe Festival is proudly supported by the NSW Government through its tourism and major events agency Destination NSW, Create NSW, PMNSW, City of Sydney and the Inner West Council.

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

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chorusfm · 6 months ago

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Riot Fest 2024 Announced

Riot Fest have announced their 2024 lineup and venue change. Full details below. Riot Fest, the iconic annual punk rock and alternative music festival, is excited to announce its 2024 lineup, along with the introduction of an innovative new world, and a venue change, now with parking! This year's festival will take place at SeatGeek Stadium in Bridgeview, Illinois, from September 20-22nd, featuring 90+ bands over 3-days, and will feature RiotLand, an immersive "Choose Your Own Adventure" world that promises to elevate the festival experience to new heights. Introducing RiotLand: A "Choose Your Own Adventure" Experience. RiotLand is set to transform Riot Fest into an interactive, choose your own adventure where attendees can explore and engage with various themed areas and activities. While the activation experiences will change from day to night, RiotLand is a place where you can escape from the real world and be yourself. A fully interactive site will be unveiled in the coming weeks, but here is a sneak peek of what’s to come: Q101 Radio Tower: A nostalgic tribute to an iconic radio station, featuring live broadcasts and unique photo opportunities. At night, there’s a new fiesta in the making as we speak. It’s out at the Moontower, full kegs, everybody’s going to be there, you ought to go. NOFX World: A stage and area dedicated to celebrating the music and legacy of NOFX, joined by their friends and fans alike, led by the ringmaster, named Fat Mike, to take you into the night. Cabaret Metro Stage: A nod to the legendary Chicago venue, Metro, where many Riot Fest alum cut their teeth long before headlining the festival. AAA Stage: If you know, you know, and that means you were probably lucky enough to be there. AAA was a warehouse venue where Riot Fest hosted many secret shows in the earlier days of the festival. You probably weren’t there the first time, but you won't want to miss it again. House of Law: Courthouse by day, OZ nightclub at night. RiotLand’s only gay punk and dance club that only opens at night. Kevin Smith Tribute Zones: Quick Stop: An immersive re-creation of the famous convenience store from "Clerks." Cretin Prairie Center: An area inspired by the film "Mallrats," featuring themed activities and surprises. Who knows, you may end up on Truth or Mate on Riot Fest’s #2 channel, RFTV. Casino: Yes, a casino, and it’s real. Are you feeling lucky? Not gambling advice, but I’m guessing if you poll the Riot Fest attendees…most would tell you to just put it all on black. World’s Largest Festival Bar: Fly in Mr. Guinness as Riot Fest attempts to unofficially break the world record Butter Stamos: Is he made out of rubber or is he made out of stone? Did you know there is at least one Butter Stamos tattoo out there? Nihilist Arby’s: We thought about not even including this one because it doesn’t even matter. Nothing matters. Eat Arby’s. Riot Fest will also feature fan-favorites from years past including the Wedding Chapel (You can get legally married at RiotLand), the Riot Pop!! Skate Ramp, free arcade games from Logan Arcade, Professor Pizza, the world's largest touring rock-n-roll circus freak show Hellzapoppin Circus, mini golf, and all of your favorite bands playing at the same time. Riot Fest 2024 Lineup Riot Fest 2024 boasts a stellar lineup of top-tier punk, rock, and alternative artists, including: Headliners: Friday brings the return of hometown favorites, Fall Out Boy, making their first appearance at the festival since they first reunited at 2013’s edition. Saturday brings indie rock favorites, Beck and a very rare performance from Pavement. Closing out the festival on Sunday is a force that cannot be reckoned with – a reunion performance by metal legends, Slayer! NOFX will be performing all three days of the festival as Riot Fest bids them a final farewell surrounded by many of their peers and contemporaries like Pennywise, Descendents, and Circle Jerks. Notable Acts: Filling out the stacked lineup is a wide array of bands spanning… https://chorus.fm/news/riot-fest-2024-announced/

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mirecalemoments01 · 1 year ago

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#BadBunny #BunnyExposed #InstagramHeat #SelfieSurprise

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niiwa-angel · 3 years ago

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Superman and Lex Luther Parenting Debacle

Idea. Lex creates Superboy, but he takes him out of the growth chamber as a six year old to raise him to hate Superman and love him as a father. BUT! He calls Superman his ‘other dad’ and shit talks him like he’s an ex husband.

Meanwhile Clarks with Bruce and raising Dick and has no idea that this is happening. He finds out by accident, when Kaldur, Wally, and Dick run off when they aren’t supposed to and find Conner by accident.

Also, Lex knows Supermans identity but he doesn’t really care.

Anyway, Clark obviously needs to get his son but because Conner has a fricken birth certificate and is legally Lex’s he can’t just take him away. Cue the actual family court case between Billionaire Lex Luther and editor Clark Kent that makes headlines.

Bonus, Bruce gets involved and it causes such a stir that everybody in North America knows about it. The judge rules shared custody and then the real fun begins. Because Lex can’t have his weapon liking the person he’s supposed to kill, so he needs to make himself the better parent in Conners eyes.

So little Con has a bedroom that looks like it came out of a toy catalogue, the latest videogame systems, and birthday parties that last for days. He likes them all and he loves his Dad but he loves his Papa too. Bruce gets involved and Conner has his own room at the mansion, he isn’t as spoiled there but he has a lot more family time and a sibling to play with so he’s happy there too.

Lex’s plan for a weapon kinds backfires for a few years because Conner is just a little kid who doesn’t really understand how to hate someone and also he thinks like an average child and has the same fears. Clarks just like, ‘Congrats Lex your master plan has been thwarted by your weapons fear of the dark’ after Conner comes crashing through the manor crying because the power went out.

Lex somehow gets roped into taking Dick to his tower with him when it’s his week with Conner and he thinks it’s fantastic because now he can make two little boys hate Superman but actually Dick just swings from his chandelier and climbs the Christmas tree. Bruce picked the boys up and was like ‘Oh, did I forget to tell you that Dick here used to be in the circus? My bad, it’s crazy the things you forget to mention. I once knew a guy who kept a kid hidden from their father for six years. Weird right?’

#Superbat #lex luthor/clark kent #Justice League Headcanons #Young Justice Headcanons #bruce wayne #batman #Clark Kent #Superman #Dick Grayson #RObin #Conner Kent #Superboy #Lex Luthor

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blazedrawsstuff · 2 years ago

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Ladies and Gentlemen! Boys and Ghouls! Monsters of all shapes and size, allow me to introduce your Master of Scaremonies, the darling of HorrorLand: Horrley Emcee! Hope you've got your tickets ready.

Horrley Emcee

Daughter of the HorrorLand Horrors

Parent

The HorrorLand M.C

Age

Killer Style

Mom says when it comes to my style, I like to bring the show with me! You see me in my "circus chic" look and you already know that I mean big fun and big thrills!

Freaky Flaw

I may look all "fun and games" but you do NOT want to send me over the edge, cause I'll make sure you go down that edge with me!

Pet

The one and only, the humongous hamster himself: Cuddles! And I do mean humongous! Big as an English Mastiff! He wasn't always like that, until he got into the Mad Labs' science experiments that is...Boy did I get a mouthful from mom when she found out.

Favorite Activity

After a long day of school and helping out at the park, there's nothing I love more than kicking off my shoes and watching some good ol' game shows on The Monster Channel. Say, have you seen the Raw Deal? It's quite killer!

Pet Peeve

No pinching! Read the sign bub! Not only is it really rude, for us Horrors, it's worse than getting burnt by your fresh-from-the-fryer funnel cake! Heck, back in the day, pinching would make us go Poof! Woosh! Gone! Flattened just like a balloon.

Favorite Subject

Physics! Up, down, and all around, it's what makes things like roller coasters such chilling thrill-rides!

Least Favorite Subject

Journalism. Personal gripe, but I oughta smack the guy who said "any publicity is good publicity", when sensationalist headlines accuse of your theme park of "unsafe rides" and "unsanitary food", in what world does that fit the category of "good publicity"? Take it from our PR department: The world of journalism like a pit of lying, attention-seeking vipers

Favorite Colors

Green, black, red, and purple

Favorite Food

If you're visiting the park, I recommend getting the "Scaries Goo-bilee", it's three scoops of pistachio ice cream, drizzled with gooberry sauce, and topped with die-licous gooseberries. Mmm mm mm! Dare I say, it's to die for!

Friends

Jaclyn O' Lantern (OC, BFF)

Gooliope Jellington

Personality

Horrley's personality reflects that of the park itself. Fun-loving, bubbly, energetic, and oh so theatrical. She has a very showman-like demeanor, and is overall pretty hammy. She has a rather tomboyish and sassy side too, often using slang terms like "bub".

However she does a aggressive and beastly side to her, especially when pinched or otherwise irritated, and can occasionally get physical. She also does have a habit of holding grudges against others, such as journalists. There are also times when she is gets overdramatic over little things.

Trivia/Additional Information

Horrley's name is based on the name "Harley" combined with the word "Horror" Her last name, "Emcee" comes from the term MC, which means "Master of Ceremonies".

Her favorite food is based off the ice cream seen on the cover of the Goosebumps 2000 book: "Return to HorrorLand", with the gooseberry toppings also referencing the respective series, as well as resembling the green slime often associated with said series. It's name is a pun on the ice cream flavor "Cherries Jubilee"

Horrley's relationship with Gooliope isn't just because of similar aesthetics and themes. Freak du Chic occasionally does shows at HorrorLand!

Her hairstyle was based off of Pinkie Pie's from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, specifically how the curls were drawn.

Her birthday is October 25th, which is the day the first part of the "One Day at HorrorLand" two-parter episode of the Goosebumps TV series was aired on Fox Kids. This makes her a Scorpio.

Horrley's headcanon voice is Katie Crown who voiced Izzy from the Total Drama series. A series, which just like the Goosebumps TV series, was produced in Canada.

#monster high #monster high oc #monster high fanart #goosebumps #goosebumps fanart #horrley emcee

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lady-literature · 4 years ago

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Accidental Crime Boss Marinette

Okay so,, I have this AU in my head, right? (not surprised) and I’m lacking any real direction for it (still not surprised) but it basically goes like this:

Marinette moves to Gotham.

She’s drawn there for whatever reason and the kwami are saying something about balance and being a Guardian and her sacred duty and something but Marinette isn’t really listening. She’s too busy trying to find a shop front where she can open a bakery without having to worry about getting mugged every time she steps outside.

Chloé comes with her, obviously, because they’re friends and Chloé has a business degree she puts to good use actually running Mari’s bakery and online boutique while Mari gets to bake and fuck around basically. Adrien, Luka and Kagami are not there, but that’s mostly because they travel too much to settle down and keeping an empty apartment in Gotham is just asking for trouble.

Kagami is a world-renowned fencer and Luka travels the world for his music company. Not touring, but soaking up cultures and ways of life so he can make soundtracks to movies and tv shows. Providing the background and life to a film is more his style than touring the world ala his father, Jagged Stone.

Adrien is having the time of his life being Kagami’s trophy husband. He has no pressing responsibilities he doesn’t take on for himself and he gets to fuck with the world’s elite with little to no consequences. He spends most of his days donating far too much money to charities and orphanages and then causing minor scandals that land him on the cover of magazines.

He has much the same kind of ‘dumbass with a heart of gold’ persona to the media as Bruce Wayne does, only without the playboy bits.

(There is a wall in the back of the bakery, where Chloé and Mari carefully cut out and frame every headline and ridiculous picture Adrien has. He is very much delighted when he learns about his ‘wall of fame’.)

Anyway, Marinette finds herself with a bakery not overly far from crime alley, much to Chloé’s chagrin.

(“What do you mean it ‘just felt right’?! I swear to kwami, DC, you’re going to get us robbed and sold into slavery.”)

They do not get sold into salvery.

In fact, despite their less than stellar choice of locale, they do pretty well for themselves. The only problems they have (according to Chloé) is the army of children Marinette accidentally attracted.

When asked, Marinette tells everyone that it was an accident. Meanwhile, Chloé, standing behind her, will shake her head and insist there was literally never any other option for them the moment that first kid came in looking to nab some cash and a few pastries.

Mari lives by the phrases, ‘kindness breeds more kindness’ and ‘do unto others’ and all that other nice person shit. Chloé just lets Mari pseudo-adopt her strays and makes sure that they don’t steal anything too important in the time it takes her to gain their loyalty.

The kwami stay staunchly out of any arguments involving the kids (and eventually the homeless all along their street and every working girl in a five-block radius). They do so with a special brand of amusement that never means good things for either of them. (After all, the last time the kwami looked that amused, they moved to Gotham.)

The first kid is named Serrure, as Marinette comes to learn over the next month after he returns again and again, getting closer and closer like a feral cat. Other kids come during that time, all of them too small and too thin and too guarded for Mari's tastes. She wants to wrap them all up and tuck them into bed but she can’t. She has to be patient, has to be gentle. These kids are just as likely to bite her hand as they are to accept help.

Serrure becomes an almost permanent fixture at the bakery after that first month. Mari’s not quite sure what she did to get through to him, but she did, she supposes. He can’t be much older than eleven and looks nine, but after getting settled, she and Chloé discover this little slip of a boy is just as mischievous as Trixx and has all the dramatics of their favorite black cat.

The kwami, when talking about him, only refer to Serrure as Loki, even after Marinette scolds them for it. She eventually gives up trying to correct them, it’s not like Serrure talks to them anyway(yet)((that she knows of)).

There’s an apartment above the bakery, which is where Chloé and Mari and all her strays that grow to trust her enough live. It’s three bedrooms, and at first, Mari just buys as many bunk beds as she can fit into the spare room and calls it a day. The kids feel safe in her home, which isn’t too surprising. Everyone thinks the bakery feels safe, feels like home or comfort or whatever else eases their minds.

And Marinette should hopes so. She certainly put enough time and effort and magic and energy into the wards around this place for that to happen. To protect her and the children and all her strays that no one else will help.

But, she eventually amasses too many kids to fit into the one room. Chloé throws a fit about having to share with Mari again—“I had enough of that in university thank you very much”—but she relinquishes easily enough.

Mari buys more bunk beds, and Serrure has taken to sneaking into her room to curl up in her bed anyway, and sometimes the smaller kids who have nightmares will come in and pile on as well.

(There are only a few that Chloé will allow to do the same with her. It is considered a high honor and breeds a playful kind of jealousy that Chloé finds amusing. Mari scolds her for pitting the kids against each other.)

That only lasts them another two months.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Chloé tells her one day before the kids wake up. Mari is at the stove, cooking and baking for a small army while Chloé balances the books. “There’s not enough room for us all, DC, and the only reason someone hasn’t come barrelling down on us about the abundance of children is by the grace of your absurd amount of luck.”

“Well I can’t just kick them out, Queenie! What do you want from me?”

“Either we need to buy more real estate in this city—which I’d rather not do—or you open up the grimoire and start building pocket dimensions. I know you can. I’ve read the chapter.”

Marinette looks at her. “That is such a bad idea.”

They do the idea.

And then Mari adds about a thousand more wards to the bakery, carved into the wood and counter and anything that’s a permanent fixture. Doorways become particularly ward heavy, what with them being the entrances and exits to the hidden realms and children’s’ rooms.

The apartment above the bakery isn’t quite infinite but it gets pretty damn close some days.

This also means, of course, that all the kids definitely know about magic now. Some of them—Serrure—have known about it for a while she knows, but it’s different now. The kwami followed her around most of the time and she doesn’t keep them trapped in the Miracle Box like Fu did, but now that the kids know, they don’t bother staying hidden.

The children, at least, love them and the kwami adore them with all the ferocity a god can give. After Chloé gets over her ‘ew children’ phase, she throws herself into their education (on top of actually running the businesses Mari keeps, mind you). She has the help of the kwami, who act as personal tutors to the children, and it’s not long before the kids start to joke about her being the Principal.

(Some tried to call her Warden, but that joke didn’t last long.)

Marinette has also been telling the kids bedtime stories ever since this started. Old stories of the Guardian and Chosens who fought back the darkness, she shares all she knows of the Orders history with these kids and it’s not until Wayzz points it out to her does she realize what she’s doing.

“Ladybugs are known for renewal. It is no surprise that you are rebuilding what was lost.”

Rebuilding the Order using children was certainly not her intention but, well. She supposes there’s no place safer for her kids than what is shaping up to be the new Miracle Temple. It’s the only haven where they can learn to harness their Gifts and powers, it’s the only place where they can be surrounded by others like them without being thrust into superhero-dom.

Context: about a month into this whole circus, Marinette had realized there was a significant—almost all of them really—amount of metas and Gifted in her little hoard of strays. Which is… odd. Especially with how few metas there are in Gotham.

She had asked the kwami about it, and they have that amused look again. “You are their guardian.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re their guardian. True, you are the Guardian of us, of the ancient ways, but you are a guardian at your soul too. You protect what is yours, and they are yours whether you realise it or not. The children can sense that, so they flock to you.”

And, huh. She supposes that makes sense but that’s also really kind of strange and weird and she doesn't want to think about that anymore actually.

So things are… fine, Marinette supposes. The bakery is doing well, and she has about two dozen-plus helpers running around underfoot to help tend to the customers or run to the store or help in the back with the baking. And every kid of hers has new clothes, their street things thrown out for being too ragged and replaced with something fresh made by Marinette’s own hands.

She embroiders little fairy wings into the clothes normally, because that’s what her cloaked wards look like most times and the kids like it and its technically the logo for the bakery and there’s a million reasons she does it.

It is, perhaps, her first mistake.

(“It was certainly not your first,” Chloé will snark one dayin the future.)

Because now Marinette has an army of magical children learning to wield their powers and not fear them and they’re all wearing what can be considered her insignia and uh oh, it looks a lot like Mari is some sort of up and coming mob boss who uses kids and prostitutes and the homeless as runners. People on the street start calling her the Pixie, start referring to Chloé—her second in all things just as Chat had been her equal—as Wasp, as Yellowjacket, as the Unseelie.

(They cannot seem to pick a name for her, but Pixie is all but engraved in stone. Mari is not sure who coined it, and she doesn't think she wants to know.)

The first time the whole situation is brought to her attention, she punches the idiot who dared even imply such a thing so hard she knocks him out.

Because look. The kids are hers right? And she watches out for the people near her, makes sure the working girls are treated as well as they can be and offers the homeless extra food and a dry place to wait out the storm. She offers her hand and gives them all a place to rest, to eat, to exist without expectations or consequences.

She does that because she’s kind, because it hurts her to see people in need, to see them suffer, not because she’s hoping to gain something from it.

The fact that most of them repay her in gossip or information or bend her ear about the newest goings on in the corrupt elite or filthy underworld is strange, yes, but it’s nice to know what’s going on in the city, she supposes. And one time, Kathy, who works on the corner of Brookes and Gilmore, warned her of a drug raid that saved her an unnecessary trip to the police station so it’s not like it doesn't have it’s uses.

But mostly, Mari doesn't really think about all the information that’s unintentionally or otherwise passed onto her. She remembers it all, because it’s rude not to listen when people talk to her, but nothing comes of normally.

Not until Serrure—now twelve and well versed in the magic of illusions and glamors and knows almost as much about this city as her or the Bats—bursts into the bakery one day and grabs Mari away from the front counter right in the middle of a customer ordering. She should, perhaps, be a little angry at that but Tony, one of the older boys and just shy of sixteen, steps into her place almost immediately, so.

And then Serrure speaks and everything is pushed aside in favour of the next words to fall from his lips.

“Someone took Sophie,” he says and she nearly sees red.

After Serrure, Sophie has been here the longest. She is the youngest of them all, only seven, but oh so clever and kind and while she looks nothing like her, everyone calls her Mini-Mari. If Serrure is her beloved first son, Sophie is her treasured daughter.

She’s out the door in the next moment, storming her way to their base. She has Sophie and a handful of extra kids back by sunset, a little frightened, but no worse for wear. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, besides making sure that the idiots who dared cross her never do so again, but word gets out.

Soon, her kids and teens and adults begin giving her more than just information, they begin giving her problems. Ones she’s meant to fix because she’s Pixie. She’s safety, she’s protection, she’s the one the people start to turn to for help.

And enter stage left, one Jason Todd who’s all snark and charm and smiles wrapped up in a nice leather bow and tall enough that Mari likely could climb him like a tree. If that was something she wanted, she guesses.

(She wants. She just won’t admit.)

He becomes a regular at the bakery and befriends most of her kids.

Mari’s wary when he first takes an interest in them. They’ve been hurt and a lot of them are still adjusting to being safe and it doesn't matter that this man is hot enough to burn, if he steps even a toe out of line with her kids she’ll make him wish he was never even born.

But, she stops worrying eventually. The kwami like him well enough, but seem to think something’s odd about him—but its Gotham, who isn’t strange?—and both Serrure and Sophie take to him like ducks to water and they’re both good judges of character.

There’s a certain intuition they both have that reminds Marinette just a bit too much about herself and pure magic. Not for the first time does she wonder if they got such strong magic from their parents or if it cropped up in them randomly, fostered by fortune and chance and the magic that’s so deeply seeped into the bones of her bakery it’ll be here long after she’s gone.

And, okay, so she was a little right to be wary because Jason was mostly there to investigate her. Far too many people respect her and are loyal to her and she has a veritable orphanage in her pocket and also Harley and Ivy like her and it just- it doesn’t look good right?

But Jason’s a good detective and it doesn't take him long at all to see that Mari is just as sweet and kind and loving as she appears to be. Not long after that, Red Hood declares Pixie and all of hers, under his protection. She, of course, is more than capable of taking care of her and hers, and the underworld knows this, has seen it, but he does it anyway.

The news, of course, gets back to Mari and she is… confused. Why would the Red Hood do something like that? She’s heard talk of him being sweet on kids, but to claim her? They’ve never even met.

Bonus points for Jason being there when she’s told about it. He kind of raises his eyebrow at her because, huh, that was fast, and then spends the next few minutes talking up the Red Hood to her much to her utter bafflement.

He actually keeps doing that too, talking up the Red Hood. Mari thinks he has a crush on the man for the longest time because of it. Until he reveals he is Red Hood, then she just wants to punch his stupidly handsome face for being such an idiot.

Shit happens from there and things go down and the two spend a couple of months dancing around each other and intentionally and unintentionally ruling the criminal underworld and at one point Marinette definitely punches Bruce and Batman in the face—separately, much to Jason’s unending joy—and she also definitely adopts Duke/Signal as well because that poor boy needs to know he’s not alone.

And it’s just them being domestic and badass and lowkey raising an army of children and falling in love while the kwami and the kids and Chloé are all in the background just yelling at them to get together already!

Which, they do. Eventually. After all the secrets come out and Jason knows about the magic and Order and meets Mari’s other friends, ie Kagami, Luka and Adrien who are all intimidating for wildly different reasons. And Mari finds out that Jason died and came back (which earns him the nickname firebird btw) and that he was a Robin once upon a time but is now Red Hood and oh my kwami it all makes sense now.

Jason confesses like three times via classic Victorian romance novel quotes because he’s a fucking literature nerd but it’s not until he basically spells it out for Mari does she really understand. it’s all very sweet and heartwarming and then the pair duck into one of the empty pocket dimensions they have lying around and aren’t seen for three days.

(No one really goes to look for them tbh)

Chloé definitely teases them about early honeymoons and things but besides the two being even more ridiculously lovey-dovey than usual, life goes back to normal. Or as normal as it gets for them.

And they all live happily ever after the end.

#maribat #jasonette #my typewriter #batfam #crime boss mari #miraculous ladybug #dc #mlb x dc #i was possessed by the need to write this all down #i have so many random ass moments from this au #just scenes taht barely fit together #zero coherency #let me know if yall want that ig #?

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years ago

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I Was Lost For You to Find — Chapter One

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

(Civilian AU in which Bruce is a foster father and takes in each of the batkids over the years.)

“Are you certain about this?” Alfred asks for the thirtieth time since Bruce first began the paperwork.

Bruce has his phone in his hand, already punching in the number for the social worker who will be releasing Dick into Bruce’s custody. It will take a while to work out the details, and a judge will have to give the final okay, but hopefully Dick will be out of juvie and into a proper home by the end of the week.

“Taking care of a child is a big commitment. Are you sure you are up to the task?”

Bruce presses the talk button and holds the phone to his ear. “How hard can it be?”

Bruce hasn’t been the same since the circus.

He tries to block it out. Being there when the Flying Graysons fell, seeing it happen with his own two eyes...it was like reliving that night in the alley all over again.

His nightmares now take the shape of two bodies slamming into the sawdust floor of that damned tent, their limbs twisting into unnatural, snapped angles on impact. He will forever be plagued by the immortal fragrance of peanuts and popcorn lingering in his nostrils, the scents themselves now laced with shock, horror, tragedy. Bruce will never again be able to enjoy a movie theater without his ears ringing with the screams of the crowd around him, each spectator doomed to watching the devastation as it fell fifty feet before their eyes.

Most of all, he hasn’t forgotten the absolute terror in the littlest Grayson’s eyes as he watched his entire world come crashing down, right in front of him. It’s a terror Bruce knows well—one he wished no other human being would ever have to experience.

“I can’t just leave him, Alfred.”

The morning paper is laid out on the table in front of Bruce, its headline a gut-punch all its own. “Haly’s Circus Acrobats Killed in Tragic Stunt, Leaving Behind Orphaned Son.”

Alfred clicks his tongue as he clears away Bruce’s breakfast plate. “Social services will take good care of the boy, I’m sure. That’s what they are there for.”

“In this city? Do you really believe that?”

“Can’t we put that awful circus tragedy behind us? I understand your concern, Master Bruce—I often myself find myself worrying about that poor boy. But you cannot save the world on your own. I fear that getting too close to this tragedy will do you more harm than good.”

He’s right. Bruce knows he’s right. It’s only been three days and Bruce is still just as shaken as he was in the tent. He can’t imagine how Dick Grayson must be faring right now, so soon after watching his own parents die. And in such a horrific manner, no less. The last glimpse Dick had of his parents was their contorted bodies lying on the ground, their necks bent and eyes staring emptily, endlessly, lifelessly. Bruce shudders just thinking about it.

“Why are you so hung up on this?” Alfred asks, swiping a crumb from the tablecloth. “What makes this boy so special to you?”

Bruce has been asking himself the same question. There were hundreds of people at Haly’s that day. Why Bruce? Why should the responsibility of saving this boy fall to him, a stranger who happened to get unwanted circus tickets from his secretary?

“I saw something in his eyes that day, Alfred. I recognized it. I felt it. It was like I was watching my own parents’ deaths all over again.”

Alfred presses his lips together grimly. “I had a feeling you would say that. I can’t say that I didn’t feel it as well.”

“I know exactly what Dick is going through. I have been in his shoes, felt the exact same pain that he’s feeling right now, only I didn’t have to handle it alone. You were there to guide me through it, show me that life was still worth living. Dick...he doesn’t have that. And no amount of child psychologists and social workers will change the fact that he’s completely alone.”

Alfred sighs. He places the stack of plates he was collecting back on the table and puts a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “The world is so dreadfully unfair when it comes to the innocent, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

That afternoon, Bruce sets himself on a mission. He gathers his checkbooks and researches what happened to Dick Grayson after that night. Some donations to children’s centers is a start, just to take the edge off, but Bruce needs to go deeper. Provide help right at the source, funnel every cent he has to spare into whatever orphanage or children’s center Dick was sent to in the hope that it will be enough to get Dick the help he needs, along with as many other kids as possible. And maybe a trust fund for Dick too, just in case. It’s unlikely that a pair of circus performers was able to salvage enough savings for a college fund.

Less than an hour later, Bruce storms into the pantry where Alfred is organizing the week’s groceries. He slams his phone against a shelf. “Juvie. They sent him to juvie, Alfred.” It’s difficult just getting the words out past the outrage clogging his throat and making his fists shake.

Some bullshit regarding an issue with the Graysons’ wills, the files said. No one at the circus was able to take Dick in, so he was left to the state, which was already packed to bursting with hundreds of other Gotham orphans whose parents were either killed in any number of crime-related accidents or simply dropped their child off when they couldn’t afford to care for them any longer.

So, with nowhere else to put him, it was decided that the Gotham Juvenile Detention Center was the most convenient place to shove their newest problem. Unbelievable. Inexcusable.

Something needs to be done.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The next day, Bruce starts filling out the paperwork to become a foster parent.

It’s a mostly straightforward process—do you have a valid driver’s license, what is your social security number, have you ever molested a child before or plan to do so if we give you one—you know, the usual questions.

“Alfred, do we use propane in our appliances?”

“Alfred, are their child locks on our windows?”

“Alfred, have you ever been convicted of a felony?”

“Which felony were you convicted of and why was I not made aware of it until now?”

“You’re being unusually quiet right now.”

“Alfred.”

Twenty-four hours and so many phone calls later that Bruce wants to burrow into his mattress and sleep for the next two hundred years...it’s official. Bruce Thomas Wayne is a foster father in the state of New Jersey. The application process is traditionally a far longer one, but anything can be sped up if you’re a billionaire, and Dick has been in that horrible detention center long enough.

“Are you certain about this?” Alfred asks for the thirtieth time since Bruce first began the paperwork.

“Taking care of a child is a big commitment. Are you sure you are up to the task?”

Bruce presses the talk button and holds the phone to his ear. “How hard can it be?”

Read the rest on AO3!

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camrensrealbish · 4 years ago

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Blame it on the fandom

I’ve been thinking about the podcast appearance a lot in the last few days. I have questions for you, Lauren.

Promotion and Camren headlines

It’s interesting when you look at the ways they used Camren for promotion. In the early Fifth Harmony days, to bring LGBT teenagers to the fandom. Then quietened it with Brad and Austin PRs. Then “I found the girl” was released. And then finally Lauren’s coming out followed by the “never real... ever” tweet. Tweet that btw made headlines and brought Lauren’s name into mainstream, ensuring that the first bit of information general public learns about her is that she was not in a relationship with Camila Cabello.

And now apparently they’re doing it again, use Camila to promote Lauren, while simoultanously slamming Camila’s gay rumors. Very clever if you ask me.

Toxicity

Are you seriously trying to tell me that there is more blame in teenagers who wrote fanfics, that in people who used two girls’ relationship in whatever way they wanted to sell a product?

The fandom shouldn’t be to blame, but you know who? The management and the label. People in control of her career and image. People who didn’t give a f*ck about her mental health and didn’t offer any help or support when she was starting her career in LA and everything was happening at once and closeted Lauren started to panic. The people who were “making decisions on regular basis to fuck them over, to make them literal slaves”. Most importantly, people, who’ve worked in the industry for years and knew where all of this would lead to and how to manipulate the story.

And ok. Maybe Lauren didn’t know better in 2013/14 and the fandom, who was pointing out all the moments her feelings were showing seemed like an obvious target, because she didn’t know how to deal with her feelings for Camila and her internalized homophobia. But am I really supposed to believe, that nothing has changed since then and she’s learnt nothing?

That Lauren, who’s outspoken about the contracts and the bullshit of music industry, even when she’s not supposed to, that this Lauren would blame the fandom and not the people in charge?

Fake it till you make it

That was some great acting on Lauren’s part (a little bit worse on Becky’s). Girl, maybe you should be the next one with acting career?

I wonder how many times she rehearsed her speech. Because without a doubt, it was prepared with her team and thought through thoroughly. What was our biggest argument against them saying Camila and Lauren were not dating? The way they look at each other and some of Camila’s slips (”Mine’s Lauren”,”Who are you kissing under the mistletoe?”, “Why do you assume it’s a boy”). So they made sure to take all our arguments away.

I also did not have that connection with her. Camila and i were just very good friends at that time, you know what i'm saying, and we respected each other. When each other would talk we would look at each other, we had love for each other, like genuine friendship, you know what i'm saying, and in the latinx culture i don't know about you, but growing up I was very affectionate with all of my friends i was very, like, we would tell each other shit that yeah, maybe you would think we were gay if you were listening over, but we weren't, you know what i'm saying.

It made me really angry, because seriously? You’re gonna use heteronormativity to shove Camila deeper into the closet?

Why now?

That was the first question that popped in my mind right after I recovered from the shock of hearing Camila’s name. Why now after 3 years of ignoring Camila’s existence?

LJ1 is coming. Album with a lot of songs about Camren in it, that you can easily connect with Camila’s side of the story. Why am I so certain about it? Because she made sure to incorporate Camren timeline into the relationship with Lucy.

I was like, I need to own this, you know? Like, of course she can’t be with someone who doesn’t want to be with her really, you know? That’s traumatizing. As someone who was really queer and accepted that about herself, and I loved that about her. She was so self-assured and who she really was and I really wanted to be like that but I couldn’t give that at the time, so I had to deal with the pain of losing her because of that. Then she came back into my life and we had a very toxic relationship, because neither one of us was healed enough to be together, but we loved each other so much… that happened when I was 18. I wanted to be with her so badly that I didn’t even give her time or me time to even know if this was what I wanted or what she wanted. I was like “no, now we’re gonna be together” so I went all in and was like we’re going to be in this relationship. And I remember my mom being like… She knew, but she also – again, there was a lot of toxicity between this girl and I, this was not a healthy relationship, this was not anything to romanticize what I went through, but also, it was my story.“

Started as friends with benefits, Camila wanted more, but Lauren wasn’t confident in her sexuality, so they broke up and got back together as a couple in 2014. That’s exactly what we were speculating was going on with Camren then, what Camila confirmed in her songs (Feel it twice, Should’ve said it) and even mentioned in Zach Sang interview.

They really decided to sink the ship this time. They’re not playing anymore, so I’d get prepared for a big shitshow in Shawmila circus, let’s pray it’s not marriage.

#camren #camila cabello #lauren jauregui

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northoftheroad · 4 years ago

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Recommeded reading for Dick Grayson / Robin and Nightwing

This is an updated repeat of a couple of lists with reading recommendations with Dick as Robin and Nightwing (Pre-Flashpoint) that I've made earlier. But since I wrote them as answers to asks, the posts don't have a headline, and I find that they can be easy to miss (for me, when I want to look something up...) So I thought I might as well make a new, single post of them.

The stories are in what I imagine would be an in-universe chronology. They are from all periods, ignoring that the Golden age stories and Silver/Bronze/modern age stories have at times been considered two different universes. Most of them are stories that, at the time of their publishing, were canon and in continuity. None is explicitly Elseworld, so you can certainly imagine that they have happened ;-)

To be honest, not all of these comics are examples of great storytelling. Older superhero comics, for instance, are definitely something else compared to modern comics, for better and for worse. I've picked some because they are "the first time" or significant in some way (e.g. the first time Dick was almost killed, when Bruce has to fight to keep custody, an infamous fight between Dick and Bruce, the most well-known different origin stories, panels that are often quoted); others because they have a cute or fun moment. I have also included some books that I don't like myself but are well-known.

Storytelling has changed a lot since Dick was Robin. Back in the Golden and Silver age, with very few exceptions, comics were stand-alone short stories. In later decades, it's usually arcs that span at least a couple of issues and some stories have consequences for years.

Dick has been an active team member since the 1960s, and he has arguably been at his best in some team titles, but I still don't have a lot of team books here. I find it difficult to, off the top of my head, recall any "special Dick issues".

Obviously, these are very personal preferences, and the list is based on what I've read and remembered best.

Robin the Boy Wonder. Detective Comics # 38 (The original origin story. There has been maaany more since then – I've made a list just with origin stories....) (1940).

Batman: Year Three. Batman # 436-439. (An origin story where Dick spent some time at a nice orphanage before he came to Bruce.) (1989)

Robin Annual vol 2 # 4. (Another origin story, where the Gotham authorities remove Dick him from the circus, and he is put in the Gotham City's Youth Center. Not my preferred but it's well known.) (1995)

The Gauntlet. The Batman Chronicles #1. (The test before Batman let Dick start out as Robin.) (1997)

Grimm. Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #149-153. (A story set when Dick is new as Robin and still uncertain about his place. For a while, he wants to leave Batman and stay in a children's underground paradise.) (2002)

Robin: Year One. (Traumatic events during Dick's first year as Robin. He was nearly beat to death by Two-Face. When Bruce said he was not permitted to continue as Robin, Dick ran away because he didn't think there was a place for him at the Manor any more.) (2001)

The case of the honest crook. Batman #5. (1941)

The Batman plays a lone hand. Batman #13. (The first time Bruce ended the Batman and Robin partnership and left Dick to take care of himself.) (1942)

Robin studies his lessons. Batman #18. (1943)

Bruce Wayne loses the guardianship of Dick Grayson. Batman #20. (1944)

Clay. Batman Black and White #6. (2014)

Don't know where, don't know when. Batman Black and White #1. (2013)

Dick Grayson, author. Batman #35. (1946)

The Clocks of Doom. Star Spangled Comics #70.

The man Batman refused to help! Star Spangled Comics #88.

A birthday for Batman. Star Spangled Comics #91.

Robin, the Boy Failure. DC #145. (Dick gets amnesia, and Bruce tries to get him to remember that he’s Robin, without telling him outright.) (1949).

The killer-dog of Gotham city. Star Spangled Comics #100. (1950)

The trial of Bruce Wayne. Batman #57. (1950)

Race of the century. DC #157. (1950)

Dick Grayson, detective. Star Spangled Comics #111. (1950)

The strange costumes of Batman. DC #165. (Dick’s first time as Batman.) (1950)

The robberies in the Batcave. DC #177. (1951)

Partner for Batman. Batman #65. (1951)

Batman II and Robin, junior. Batman #66. (1951)

The plainclothes Robin. Star Spangled Comics #112. (Batman forbids Dick from going out at as Robin; he finds creative ways to use it in other ways.) (1951)

Operation Escape. Star Spangled Comics #124. (1952)

The new team of Superman and Robin. World's Finest Comics #75. (With Batman out of commission, Robin teams up with Superman. Batman is a bit apprehensive about Dick’s joy.) (1955)

Batman, jr. DC #231. (1956)

The grown-up Boy Wonder. Batman #107. (1957)

The last days of Batman. Batman #125. (1959)

Robin's new boss. Batman #137. (Dick wants to leave Bruce and get into a new partnership. Bruce is very distraught indeed.) (1961)

Robin Dies at Dawn. Batman #156. (Batman gets PTSD after participating in an experiment and he has to hang up the cowl becuase he is endangering Robin. Doctor Simon Hurt, who became a main villain when Grant Morrison wrote Batman, is the nameless doctor in charge of the experiment.) (1963)

The Olsen-Robin team versus the Superman-Batman team. World's Finest Comics #141. (1964)

The thousand-and-one dooms of Mr Twister. The Brave and the Bold #54. (The first team-up of Robin, Kid Flash and Aqualad – the first step towards the formation of the Teen Titans.) (1964)

Teen Titans: Year One. (A retelling of the origin of the Teen Titans. The original version was told in Teen Titans vol 1 #53 from 1978, the last issue of the Silver/Bronze age comic book.) (2008)

Midnight raid of the Robin gang. DC #342. (1965)

The Round-Robin death threats. DC #366-367. (1967)

Batgirl breaks up the dynamic duo. DC #369. (1967)

The Nemesis from Batman's boyhood. DC #370. (1967)

Batman! Drop dead… twice. DC #378-379. (1968)

Geometry. Superman #700. (Dick goes out as Robin on his own, against Bruce's order. Superman has to fish him up out the harbour...) (2010)

Menace of the Motorcycle Marauders. Batman #202. (1968)

Operation blindfold. Batman #204-205. (1968)

Angel… or devil. Batman #216. (1969)

Prisoners of the Immortal world. World’s Finest Comics #200. (Dick had moved to Hudson University by now. Together with Superman and a pair of brothers, he's transported to a different world.) (1971)

Daughter of the Demon. Batman #232. (First appearance of Ra's al Ghul, who kidnaps Robin from Hudson as a test to see if Batman is worthy of Talia.) (1971)

Vengeance for a cop. Batman #234-236. (1971)

Night of the Reaper. Batman #237. (1971)

Earth - the monster maker. Justice League of America #91-92. (A story with characters from both Earth-One and Earth-Two, including the adult Robin from Earth-Two who is a member of the Justice Society of America.) (1971)

How many times can a Robin die? Batman #246. (A criminal sets out to revenge himself on Batman by setting up murders of lifelike Robin dummies; since he has kidnapped the real Robin, Batman can't know if the killings are the real thing.) (1972)

The return of the Flying Grayson. Batman #250. (1973)

Color me deadly. Batman #316. (1979)

The Iron solution. DC #487. (1980)

The Man in Black wears Green. DC #493. (1980)

The Lazarus Affair (plus). Batman #331-335. (Another story with Talia and Ra's al Ghul, but also about generation gaps and slum buildings. Robin is angrily opposed to Bruce being with Talia because he doesn't trust her; he seeks out Catwoman to help.) (1981)

Yesterday's heroes. Batman #339. (1981)

To kill a legend. Detective Comics #500. (The Phantom Stranger transports Batman and Robin to a parallel Earth where they have the chance to stop that world's Joe Chill from murdering the Waynes.) (1981)

Who is Donna Troy? New Teen Titans #38. (Dick helps Donna Troy, Wonder girl, to find out where she came from. A great detective story.) (1984)

The Judas contract (when Dick becomes Nightwing). The New Teen Titans # 39-40, Tales of the Teen Titans #41-44, Annual #3. (1984)

Nightwing Year One. Nightwing vol 2 # 101-106. (I honestly don't care much for this story, but it's good to know that it's one of several retellings of how Dick became Nightwing.) (2005)

A Little Nudge, in the Robin 80th Anniversary Special. (An alternate take on Dick leaving Robin to become Nightwing, where Bruce and Dick don’t split on hostile terms – Dick is just a bit annoyed. It is very unclear in what timeline, if any, this is supposed to fit, but I like it a lot better than the Post-Crisis/Pre-Flashpoint versions.) (2020)

Trivial Pursuits. New Teen Titans vol 2 # 32. (A nice breather, when the Titans try just to relax together. It goes as well as can be expected.) (1987)

Wrath Child. (A story from when Dick was fairly new as Nightwing.) Batman Confidential # 13-16. (2008)

Batman # 416. (First post-Crisis meeting with Jason Todd) (1988)

The Cheshire Contract. Action Comics Weekly # 613-618 (Dick helps Roy find his daughter.) (1988)

The New Titans # 55. (Dick learns about Jason's death when the Titans return to Earth after a long period in space. He goes to Bruce to talk and what follows is the infamous scene when Bruce hits Dick, says he should never have had a partner and tells Dick to leave and leave the keys with Alfred.) (1989)

Batman: Year Three. Batman # 436–439. (Flashbacks with a retelling of Dick's origin, during Bruce's third year as Batman. In the "now", Dick tries to reach out to Bruce and Dick's parents' murderer is about to be set free.) (1989)

A Lonely Place of Dying. Batman # 440-442, New Titans # 60-61. (1990)

The New Titans # 65. (Tim turns up at Dick's place to learn what it is to be Batman's partner.) (1990)

Total Chaos. (In issues of Deathstroke the Terminator, New Titans and Team Titans.) (Mirage, a woman from an alternate future and who has illusion casting powers, takes the form of Starfire and sleeps with Dick, who is shamed by his team members for being unfaithful to Kory, even though this is rape. So, an important fact to know but not something I would recommend to read.) (1992)

Knightfall Prodigal (Dick's first longer stint as Batman. And he takes care of Tim and the Manor on his own!) In Batman #512-514 and three other titles. (1994-1995)

Nightwing Alfred's Return (Kind of fun, when Dick seeks out Alfred, who left Bruce's service because Bruce wasn't taking care of himself, in London.) (1995)

Nightwing vol 1 # 1-4. (I don't love this, but it is a milestone in that it's the first Nightwing solo series, Dick momentarily decides to leave the hero business, and gets his by now classic fingerstripe suit.) (1995)

Like Riding a Bike. (Donna checks up on Dick.) The Batman Chronicles # 7. (1996)

(Nightwing vol 2 began in 1996.)

Nightwing vol 2 # 6. (Tim and Dick talk and fight crooks.) (1997)

Nightwing vol 2 # 12-16. (Batman pays a visit and Dick makes his custom made car.) (1997)

The Flash plus Nightwing. (Dick and Wally on vacation.) (1997)

Then & Now. Teen Titans vol 2 #12-15. (The original four Titan boys find themselves fighting their past selves.) (1997)

Nightwing vol 2 # 25. (Tim and Dick talk and ride on train roofs. Dick has decided to become a cop.) (1998)

Detective Comics # 725 (A heart-to-heart between Bruce and Dick.) (1998)

The Technis Imperative. JLA/Titans #1-3. (1998-1999)

The Titans (1999) # 2. (The start of a new Titans team, Dick tells Superman to give them some room.) (1999)

Nightwing vol 2 # 32–34. (Dick at the Police Academy.) (1999)

Nightwing vol 2 # 35–39. (On a mission from Batman: To take control of Blackgate Prison. Afterwards, he recuperates at Barbara's when her place is attacked.) (1999-2000)

The Titans (1999) #15–16. (The original five Titans try to work out some difficulties.) 2000.

Transference. Batman: Gotham Knights #8-11. (2000)

Nightwing vol 2 # 45-46. (The Hunt for Oracle.) (2000)

Action Comics # 771. (Nightwing and Superman hang out and work together – what's not to like!) 2000

Gods of Gotham. Wonder Woman # 164-167. (2001)

Nightwing vol 2 # 52. (Yet another example of sexual assault when Catwoman kisses Nightwing, in an effort to make Batman jealous.) (2001)

Nightwing vol 2 # 54-58. (Blockbuster, Nightwing's main adversary in Blüdhaven, hires an old enemy of Dick's to deal with the vigilante: Shrike. A character from Robin Year One.) (2001)

Matatoa. Batman: Gotham Knights # 16-17. (Bruce adopts Dick.) (2001)

Who Is Troia? The Titans (1999) # 23-25. (A visit from the Titan's children from the Kingdom Come universe.). (2001)

Retribution. Batman: Gotham Knights # 20-21. (2001)

Nightwing vol 2 # 64. (Nightwing as Santa's elf.) (2001)

Bruce Wayne: Murderer and Bruce Wayne: Fugitive (in several titles). (Dick refuses to believe that Bruce can be a murderer and it causes friction with for instance Tim. Also, a big fight between Dick and Bruce when the latter says he is going to abandon his Bruce identity.) (2002)

Nightwing vol 2 # 75. (Flashback's to Dick's early years with Bruce. Plus the first appearance of Tarantula (Catalina Flores; a controversial figure in Dick's history, she straddled the line between vigilante and villain.)) (2002)

Hush. Batman # 608–619. (# 615 for Dick, but it might be confusing only to read one issue.) (2002-2003)

The Obsidian Age. JLA vol 1 # 68-75. (The Justice League members disappear, Dick leads a new team for a few issues. In # 73, Bruce is quoted: "The only time I ever feel pride is when I look at Nightwing. Sometimes I think he's the only thing I ever did right."). (2002-2003)

Titans/Young Justice: Graduation Day # 1-3 (Donna is killed. Dick is devastated and declares that the Titans are finished.) (2003)

Nightwing vol 2 # 80-83. (Deathstroke is in Blüdhaven to kill someone close to Dick. Bruce asks when he will quit the force, Dick wants to stay as a cop, but when he saves Amy Rohrbach, she recognizes that Dick is Nightwing and fires him.) (2003)

Nightwing vol 2 # 86. (Dick, forced to rest after being injured, solves crimes on America's Most Wanted and drives Barbara up the wall.) (2003)

The Outsiders vol 3 # 1 (Roy talks Dick, who dissolved the Titans after Donna's death, into leading a new team, promising they will not be a family.) (2003)

Nightwing vol 2 # 87-100. (Definitely one of the darkest periods points in Dick's life pre-Flashpoint. Tarantula breaks up him and Barbara. Blockbuster destroys his circus, his home and kills people just for talking to Dick. Tarantula kills Blockbuster and Nightwing is too exhausted to prevent it, and afterwards, he has a panic attack and she rapes him (# 93). Not necessarily something I would recommend to read, but fans discuss it a lot.) (2003-2004)

The Outsiders vol 3 # 11 (Roy is angsting about going back to the hero business after narrowly surviving being shot to death, sparring and heart-to-heart with Dick follows.) (2004)

Under the Hood. Batman # 635-641, 645-650, Annual # 25. (2004-2006)

Supergirl (2005) # 3 (Supergirl has a huuuge crush on Nightwing... ) (2005)

Silent partner. The Outsiders vol 3 # 21-23. (Dick goes ballistic when he realizes Batman has been funding the Outsiders, Roy admits Batman has been feeding him information. Only it wasn't Batman – it was Deathstroke in disguise.) (2005)

DC Special: The Return of Donna Troy # 1-4. (2005)

Nightwing vol 2 # 107–117. (Dick leaves Nightwing, starts working for the mob and trains Deathstroke's daughter. I think the author has some kind of resolution to the crisis Dick had gone through the last years in mind, but Infinite Crisis got in the way. Blüdhaven is destroyed in a nuclear explosion.) (2005-2006)

Infinite Crisis. (DC had planned to let Dick die, he is central to the story even if he's not very visible.) (2005-2006)

Targets. Nightwing vol 2 # 125-128. (Dick hunts for a day job in New York and gets buried alive, which leads to some retrospection on his behalf. There's also fights with a guy with a weaponized armour.) (2007)

The Brave and the Bold # 15. Nightwing and Hawkman. (Deadman, inside Hawkman, says that Dick Grayson is the one guy that every crimefighter trusts.) (2007)

Outsiders: Five of a Kind – Nightwing/Boomerang. (It ends with Batman telling Dick: "Go back to the good fight, Dick. Leave the bad fight to us.") (2007)

Freefall. Nightwing vol 2 # 140–146. (Dick starts freefalling as a new hobby; Bruce is not pleased. And he gets a new daytime job, as a museum curator. Oh, and there's Talia al Ghul, too.) (2008)

Robin # 175. (Some fun panels with flashbacks with Dick and Tim.) (2008)

Superman/Batman # 55. (Batman has got Superman’s powers while Superman loses his. When Batman starts to get out of control, Nightwing tries to stop him.) (2009)

The Great Leap. Nightwing vol 2 # 147–151. (Two-Face wants Nightwing to save a life.) (2008-2009)

Titans (2008) # 10. (Dick leaves the Titans because he needs to go back to Gotham and "take care of my other family." (2009)

Nightwing vol 2 # 152-153. (That time when Ra's al Ghul called Dick detective. And Dick packed up and left New York to move back to Gotham.) (2009)

Batman # 682. (Just for the line about how Dick made colour come into their monochrome lives ;-) ) (2009)

Detective Comics # 85, Batman # 684 (Dick mourning Bruce) (2009)

The Secret Six # 9. (Some of the members of the Secret Six feel they should be the new Batman.) (2009)

Battle for the Cowl # 1-3. (2009)

If you don't mind reading comics that are not in the main comic universe, there are also a lot of fun reading in comic books that are tie-ins to Batman The Animated Series, and in Batman '66 which builds on the tv show from 1966. There is also Dark Victory from 1999–2000 – and tiny Dick is adorable in Batman/Scarecrow: Year One from 2005. Dick has about two panels in Darwyn Cooke’s DC: The New Frontier from 2004, but I think it’s kind of worth reading just for those.

#Dick Grayson #Robin #Nightwing #Batman #Richard Grayson

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