#(i meant to do this a lot earlier oops)

[biblically-inaccurate-crangel]

*Now that they have all of the flower crowns ready and hanging from one of their arms, they decide to head off to gift Coffee's first...despite not knowing the way Whole took them to see him last time.*

ł ₵ØɄⱠĐ...ɄⱧ...ⱤɆ₳ⱠⱠɎ Ʉ₴Ɇ ₴Ø₥Ɇ ĐłⱤɆ₵₮łØ₦₴ ₮Ø ₲Ɇ₮ ₮Ø ₩ⱧɆⱤɆ ₵Ø₣₣ɆɆ ł₴...ł₣ ł ₵ØɄⱠĐ ₲Ɇ₮ ₳₦Ɏ...?

[disasterhimbo]

If you are American, please make sure to vote today!

[skrunksthatwunk]

good news: next piece is a saejima cat-related comic

bad news: i uh. i don't know how to draw cats skull emoji

[f1goat]

more than friends + lando norris x part four

In which your best friend wants to help you so you get more sexual experience, but he discovers quickly that he never wants to share you and your new sexual experience with others.

masterlist - playlist

warnings: smut with a plot or a plot with smut? :) minors dni! i never proofread so probably grammar or spelling errors

requested: yes, based on: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things (ofc pretending for it to bot mean anything), while he’s actually in love with her

part one / part two / part three

“Lan,” you start you sentence a bit shy, “when uh, when are we going to have sex?” You continue to ask. You feel your cheeks reddening while asking him the question. Lando looks confused at your sudden question. 

“What’s with the hurry?” He asks you a bit confused.

You let out a nervous laugh. “This is going to sound stupid,” you say nervous, “but there’s this guy who asked me on a date.”

“So?” Lando asks. He already feels jealousy coming up. Someone asked you onto a date? He wonders who asked you. Fuck. 

“I uh, I wanted to wait with the date for when I’m not a virgin anymore,” you confess, “I think it’s uh, it’s better for my confidence.” Is it bad that you don’t tell Lando that you want him, specifically him, to take your virginity? 

“How long can you stall him?” Lando asks you, “because I don’t think it’s a good idea to rush this.”

“Uh now I already told him I would go away with you for the triple header,” you explain, “so at least three weeks.”

Lando feels a bit more relieved now. In three weeks a lot can change right? Maybe he will finally find the confidence to tell you about his crush. Maybe not. Since he has a crush on you for multiple years and all those years weren’t enough to gather the confidence to tell you… 

“That’ll work,” Lando eventually says. 

“So what’s next?” You ask Lando, “I feel like there’s so much you still have to teach me.”

“Relax babygirl,” Lando says, “I think we need to focus on how I’m going to pack my suitcase with stuff for three weeks in an hour..”

“You didn’t pack yet?” You ask Lando confused, “We’re leaving in an hour!”

“Oops?” Lando laughs.

You let out a soft sigh. “You never change,” you tell Lando eventually with a small smile. Then you stand up to help Lando pack his stuff. As you almost always do. It doesn’t take the two of you long. Like a couple times earlier, you secretly put some shirts into Lando his luggage. The boy is way too stubborn to pack something else then hoodies, but he never checks the weather. Something you of course already did while packing your own stuff, so you know for sure he needs some normal shirts.

“Thanks babygirl,” Lando says after he closes the zippers. He moves closer to you and presses a kiss against your forehead. You don’t know what has gotten into you, but without giving it a second thought you press a kiss onto Lando his lips. Lando smiles during the kiss. He pulls you closer to himself and wraps his arms around your body. The kiss was meant as a simple, innocent one. But Lando is quick to make it turn into a make out session. His hands are roaming over your body. Quickly he finds your ass. Softly he squeezes it a couple times. You let out a soft moan while your lips are still pressed on Lando’s. 

Lando his ringtone distracts the both of you from what you were doing. You watch him pick up and say a simple ‘okay’ after a couple seconds. “The driver is here,” he informs you, you show him a small nod. He grabs his luggage and takes a couple of your backs with him as well. 

“You know,” Lando tells you, “you’re a great kisser.” In the mean time the two of you walk towards the driver who’s there to bring you to the airport. 

“I learned from the best,” you tell Lando with a small innocent smile.

Lando lets out a soft laugh. “Imagine how great you will be on all the other things with such a good teacher,” he tells you with the same laugh. 

“We will see,” you reply.

+++

Lando sighs when he sits down in his drivers room. You don’t know what to say. He just lost a great lap time due to track limits. He would be placed second tomorrow if he didn’t lose his time. You know he’s probably mad at himself right now. Lando mutters softly. You can’t hear him properly, but you guess he’s calling himself an idiot. It hurts you to see him like this. You have been here for all his highs in formula one, but also for all of his lows. You have seen him this upset with himself many times before. It never hurts less. 

“Lan,” you softly say. He doesn’t even look at you while responding, “Don’t say it isn’t my fault, I’m the one who got track limits,” he states. 

“Maybe I can cheer you up?” You eventually suggest.

“Cheer me up?” Lando asks you confused.

“Distract you a bit,” you continue.

“How babygirl?” Lando asks you even more confused.

“What about another lesson?” You ask Lando, “You could teach me how to give you a blowjob.”

“But I didn’t even went down on you,” Lando quickly brings in, “you don’t have to do this.”

“What if I want to? You look like you can use something that cheers you up,” you state. 

“Sure?” Lando asks you. You show him a nod. “Words,” Lando states, reminding you about his need for you to say everything. “Yes Lando,” you say, “I want to give you a blowjob.” Lando’s facial expression is quick to bright up. He’s already smiling about the idea of your lips around his dick. It even causes him to get a boner.

“But you need to tell me what to do,” you tell Lando a bit nervous. Lando is quick to nod, he grabs one of your hands and moves it slowly to his boner. You don’t wait for a new instruction, slowly you palm his already hard bulge through his race suit. Lando stays silent for a bit, he enjoys your movements in peace. You apply a bit more pressure while palming him. In the mean time you press a kiss against Lando his neck. 

After a few minutes of moving slowly on his bulge, you try to grab his dick through his race suit. Lando groans when you take him inside your hand. He pulls down the zipper of his race suit. While he unzips his suit, you take a good look at him. It feels almost unfair how hot he is. His fireproof is doing all kind of things to you. 

“Can I take it off?” Lando asks you. “Yes,” you reply quickly. You move your hands away from him, giving him the space to pull of his race suit. Lando grins. He kicks off his shoes and then pulls off the suit to step out of it. You keep looking at him. It feels so bare to see him in only his briefs, but then you remind yourself that he will remove those too in a bit.

Before Lando can pull his briefs off himself, you move your lips to his chest. You press multiple kisses against it, slowly moving down towards his dick. In the mean time you hold his boner in your hand, slowly stroking it. When you reach the edge of his boxers, you stop stroking his member. Slowly you pull his briefs a bit down. His hard member is quick to pop out of his briefs. Lando continues your movements and takes off his boxer. 

You take your time to look at his dick. You have seen some porn movies before, so you already had an imagine from how it would look. But in a weird way, it seems more appealing to you now. Lando his member is pretty. You never thought you would think that about a dick. He watches you while you stare at his member. You notice the thick vein that is laying onto his dick, now that you think about it. His whole member seems thick. Maybe not as long as those in the porn movies, but you already guessed that those were a bit fake. You wonder how this will ever fit inside of your mouth and one day inside of your vagina. 

“If you’re not sure, you don’t have to do this,” Lando softly tells you. 

“No,” you quickly state, “I want to do this. Just tell me what to do.”

Lando grins happily. He’s glad you still want to blow him. He isn’t sure if a cold shower would have helped this time. In the mean time you move your hands onto his dick again. Lando feels himself hardening even more. Has he ever been this hard? You explore his dick slowly with your hands. You trace the thick vein on top of it with one of your fingers while waiting for Lando to say something. 

“You uh, you can lick it a bit if you want?” Lando asks you, “Make it a bit wet.”

You are quick to take his words into action. Without giving it a second thought, you move your head closer to his member. Carefully you place your tongue onto it, even more careful you give him a couple licks. Lando lets out a soft moan. You continue your movements. You let your tongue slide over his dick. Exploring the way it feels on your tongue. 

“Put it in your mouth,” Lando says after a while.

You do what he says. With a careful movement you take the top of his dick inside your mouth. You try to go as deep as you can, but you’re quick to feel some tears popping up in the corners of your eyes.

“Slowly babygirl,” Lando says, “you don’t have to take everything inside. The top is the most sensitive part.”

You remove your mouth shortly to take a deep breath. When you place his dick back into your mouth, you try to remember his words. You make sure the top of his boner is inside your mouth, there’s room for a bit more but you act carefully. You remind yourself to take your time. Slowly you lick around his tip with your tongue. It earns you another moan from Lando. Something that makes you feel good on the inside. Giddy even. 

“Move your head a bit down and up,” Lando instructs you, “Try to make the same stroking movements from before, but now with your mouth.”

Again you take Lando his words into action. Slowly you move your head up and down. You let your mouth slide over his dick a couple times. Lando moans again. You feel proud that you are the reason of those moans. Without thinking about it, you take the part of his member that isn’t in your mouth into your hand. You start to stroke it, alining the movements with the bobbing you do with your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Lando groans, “You’re good at this.”

His words make you feel even better. It causes you to fasten your movements. You try to lick his tip as well in the mean time. Lando is quick to start to become a moaning mess underneath your touch. You feel his dick pulse in your mouth. 

“If you don’t want a taste, you should finish with your hands,” Lando grunts. You don’t act on his words, you continue your earlier movements. Maybe you do want a taste? 

Lando looks at you while feeling himself getting close to his orgasm. He looks at the way you stare at his dick while making the movements that make him feel like this. He had a couple blowjobs before from different girls, but none of them felt as good as from you. How can someone like you - with no sexual experience - be so much better then others? It’s insane. While looking at you he feels his orgasm getting really close.

“Last warning babygirl,” he tells you softly. You still don’t remove your mouth from his dick. Because of his words you know that he’s close, his moans are also giving that part away. You try to take his dick a bit deeper inside your mouth. Before you know it, you notice a salty taste inside your mouth. You quick to find the reason. Lando just came.

Slowly you continue your movements from before, but you decrease your pace more and more. A couple more drops of Lando his cum are finding it’s way inside your mouth. When you think he’s completely empty you remove your mouth. While looking at Lando you swallow his cum. 

“Fuck,” Lando grunts, “I could come again by looking at you doing that.”

You show Lando a shy smile. He pulls you close onto himself. Lando presses a small kiss onto your forehead before moving his lips to yours. He presses another kiss onto your lips. 

“Will you believe me if I tell you that you just gave me the blowjob of my life?” Lando asks you. You are quick to shake your head, “No,” you say. 

“You just did babygirl,” Lando tells you honestly, “I have never been blowed this good before.”

You laugh softly. “Maybe this says something about those others girls,” you say. 

“No,” Lando quickly states, “It says everything about you. You’re really good at this babe. And you did find a really good way to distract me.”

You laugh, “I’ll remember that for the next time. Don’t beat yourself up because of it Lan, tomorrow you will fight for a lot of points. I bet you’re even on the podium.”

“If I get a podium I want to celebrate if with eating you out,” Lando states.

You laugh again. “That’s not a celebration.”

“It is for me.”

Fuck. Why is your stomach tightening because of Lando his words? This can’t be good.

part five

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl @kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes

[b0xerdancer-writes]

It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 3

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that hes already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander (I love Mor but it’s a plot point for later on I promise!), cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet, alcohol.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 4,941

Notes: Part 3 is here, bit of a shorter chapter but im happy with where I left it off at, lots of Lucien and Eris bonding this chapter. Enjoy sweet affectionate drunk Eris. Not proofread at all. I posted this on my break. Posted on wrong account earlier oops!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You promised me we could go dance when I got back.” Happily intoxicated and finally relaxed, he wrapped his arms around me surrounding me with his scent of firewood and cinnamon. 

Lucien gave me an apologetic look from over Eris’s shoulder, as Eris nuzzled into my neck and hummed sweetly. A blush crept to my face at the overly affectionate display from the eldest Vanserra brother. His breath fanned across my collarbone as purred against me and I couldn’t help but feel an ache in my chest wishing for this to be a regular thing that I got to experience, but I was drawn from my spot as the forms of Azriel and Rhys talking with the other reentered Rita’s. I tapped Eris lightly on the shoulder and he made a hum of acknowledgement, his honey amber eyes seeking out my own  as he moved to pull me towards the floor. 

Just as I moved to stand myself I felt a squeeze of my hand from Mor, who was giving me a look that was a mix of sympathetic and apologetic.

 “I..,” she looked down into her lap where her other hand rested. “I never meant to lie, and I never meant for it to get so out of control like it is now. I, just, I’m sorry. I mean it. For what happened.”

I gave her a soft smile and squeezed back, biting back any bitter remarks that echoed in my brain after all these years of holding contempt against her. “Hey, no worries. We all have to do and say things to get by.”

She smiled softly back at me and moved her hand from mine into her lap as she let Eris pull me to the dance floor. She took a sip of wine and her shoulders deflated as Azriel and Rhys slid into the booth with her. Lucien had moved to the bar talking with the bartender there, though I couldn't see if he was ordering another drink or not. 

Eris pulled me close to him away from the prying eyes of the inner circle as he put his hands around my waist and tucked me into his chest, a slight rumble echoing there that I could only feel through the music.  The music was a slower one then what normally came from the live bands that rotated through, and Eris used it to his advantage as he leaned down to whisper in my ear, a small tilt of curiosity in his voice.

He brought my wrist up to his lips and pressed them to the small tattoo barely bigger than a fingernail. “What kinda deal did you make with her, hmm?” 

I moved to cup his face with the same hand he kissed. “You're too far gone to understand the significance of what it means right now if I told you.” I smiled softly, moving to pull him with the music as it began picking up into a faster beat, a new song.

He raised a brow at me with a cocky, sarcastic, yet relaxed look on his face. Mischief danced in his eyes, I’d never get used to how good that looked on him.

“I’m sure even in my haze I’ll understand.” He smirked as he pulled me tight against him, a move that was influenced by a mix of the music and trying to lure me into giving him what he wants; A move I knew all too well, that managed to bring me to my knees everytime.

I sighed as I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down so he could hear me over the pounding music. “It was a deal to get her to stop slandering you so much, I didn;t even think it was going to be a deal. Think she made it so I would understand how much she was sorry for everything she did.”

His eyes twinkled, as a smile bloomed on his face that made him practically glow. He cupped my face with both hands, eyes locking with mine. “You stood up for me again? Made a whole bargain just so I wouldn’t be slandered?”

I nodded and he purred loud enough I could hear it even with the blaring music. My heart skipped a beat as he dropped my face and pressed my body into his, leaning down to whisper into my ear.

“Darling,” he mused “I will never be able to repay you for all the favors you do for me. Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to my temple before he spun me around and pressed my back against his chest with a smirk.

“Plus, when you defended me against Azriel’s words earlier it was pretty hot little fox~.” He purred into my ear, blush crept into my cheeks and I spun out of his hold. 

He’s just drunk. There was no meaning behind his words really, just trying to get a rise out of me. “Get it together Eris, quit playing these games of yours.” I rolled my eyes and he let out a childish giggle.

“Okay, Okay fine. You win.” He surrendered but the mischief in his eyes wasn't gone.

He took my hand in his and spun me into him grabbing at my hands to lift me into his arms, my legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. He smiled wickedly at me, cheers erupted around us as the song came to a dramatic close. My eyes scanned the crowd behind Eris, everyone must have been watching us dance, he had managed to pull me into the center of the floor without me realizing. 

He smirked at me and I leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Sly fox.”  

His hand that supported my weight on my ass was a searing heat against me though he wasnt using any of his power. I jumped from his grasp to pull him into a quick bow. I was going to need several more drinks if this was how the night was going to proceed, sly remarks and lingering touches all masked under the influence of alcohol. 

Song after song played and we let eachother lose ourselves in the others' touches and remarks. Fuck it, if this was temporary I was bound and fucking determined to enjoy what attention like this I could get from my mate, even if he didn’t know that little fact he seemed to be enjoying it just as much as I was. Eventually as the night grew later I felt Rhys’s claws against my shields and I greeted him with a grumble for interrupting.

“Heading home, Feyre is starting to miss Nyx. Have fun, but not too much fun. Sorry for earlier I should have stepped in, I know you wouldn’t have let anyone talk about Feyre like that in my absence.” I felt his power rub against my conscience apologetically, it felt sad and remorseful.

“Have a goodnight Rhys, tell Feyre night for me too.” I laughed softly. “Don’t worry Rhys, I'll be good. I wont say it’s okay cause its not and your right but I’ll forgive you brother. I love you, have a goodnight.”

“I will, love you too.” He slipped out of my thoughts with an affectionate caress and my shields slid back into place.

As I returned my attention to Eris he was pouting, brows furrowed as he looked into my eyes. “What’s wrong Eris?” 

He let out a huff like a child throwing a tantrum. “Tell Rhys to leave you alone, it's us time.” 

I smiled and wanted to laugh at his childish behavior but bit it back as I smoothed out his hair. “Don’t worry you poor thing, he's gone now, he was just apologizing and saying good night.”

He pouted further when I called him a poor thing and it made me smile softly, a warmth blooming in my chest, but once he noticed my full attention was back on him he perked up. We danced for a while longer till the alcohol seemed to lessen from his system and he deflated as he held me close. 

“I have to go back to Autumn soon.” He sighed, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. 

I couldn’t stand seeing him upset. “Welcome back to the land of the coherent.” I joked trying to cheer him up and I felt him smile against me.

“Thank you, I mean it. You always put me first and I’ll never be able to repay you for all of it.” He mumbled into my shoulder.

I rubbed at his shoulders as he leaned against me for a moment before I began pulling him off the dance floor. “I gotta close out our tab but then we can go relax for a bit before you have to leave, okay?”

He nodded, eyes not glimmering nearly as much as they had been and my heart ached for him. I pulled him with me to the bar, the tender busy making drinks told us it would be a minute before he could get to us. Eris bid his time wrapping his arms around my waist and buried his face in between my shoulders. I held his hands that were firmly clasped around me with one of mine as I finally closed our tab out. He growled under his breath when I made him release me so we could leave the bar and I swatted his hand softly with a giggle. 

“You big teddy bear, we do have to leave the bar you know? You wanna go to the house of the wind? Or I actually share an apartment with Lucien in the city we can go there?” I crooned at him and felt him giggle into my shoulder.

“-partment” He cut himself off as he mumbled into my back.

“Wanna winnow or walk?” I rubbed at his forearm softly connecting the freckles that littered his skin.

“Walk, I don't know if I can winnow without getting sick.” He looked up from my shoulder, only his eyes showing over my shoulder. The gold and orange flecks in his amber eyes illuminated by the faelight signs behind the bar advertising the different brands they carried.

My breath caught in my throat as I entwined my hand with his and led him from the bar. He grumbled under his breath as I stepped out of his grasp. “I was comfy.”

I had to fight a giggle. “And I promise you, you can be comfy again when we get to the apartment.” 

He mumbled a fine and moved to step in front of me so he could hold the door open for me to pass through. “Fine. I guess that's an acceptable promise then.”

I smiled up at him as I passed and turned around to offer my hand out to him again. A smile crept onto his face but exhaustion was present in his eyes as he entangled his hand in mine. 

The walk to the apartment was slow, purposely though, so Eris could postpone having to put that mask back on and return to his court. It would probably be a week till I saw him again, a week for him that would be full of having to strategically put on a mask around his fathers court till he could replace them and build it the way he wanted to.

I felt a tug on my hand as Eris stopped to look out at the mountaintops, where a single shooting star fell and disappeared behind them. 

He looked over at me and a soft barely there smile graced his features. “You make a wish?” 

I would only ever wish for one thing, felt like  if I asked for more then it would be too greedy of me, especially when the mother and the cauldron couldn't even grant me my single wish. 

I nodded in response and the softest smile graced his features and his entire body seemed to relax. “So did I.”

I wanted to ask what he wished for but knew there was the superstition about if you told what your wish was that it wouldn’t come true, so I left the question unasked. He took a step back to my side and motioned to the sidewalk ahead of us.

“Ready whenever you are.” He looked down on me and the shop lights caught his eyes making them flicker like fire.

Fuck I wanted to kiss him here and now, but if I did I put everything on the table. I couldn’t lose this so I opted to push the feeling down and it felt like I was going to suffocate as I pulled him towards the apartment again. The rest of the walk was quiet Eris falling into line beside me. Once we made it to the apartment I led him up the stairs to see no lights on, Lucien must still be out then I reasoned. 

I pushed the door open, the wards clicking to life and unlocking at my presence. Inside was decorated in a mix of autumn and night colors, mine and Lucien’s safe haven here. The couch was large enough to fit both me, Lucien and one other person, the wood frame was a dark almost black color and the fabric that lined it a deep reddish orange that had reminded me of eris’s hair when we picked it out. A large blanket made of fur was thrown across the back of it, in case me or Lucien passed out there, on one of the 2 throw pillows it came with. Lucien had picked out a reading chair that was a deep emerald green that he’d tucked into a corner by a bookshelf, I knew he picked the color because it reminded him of Tamlin and the Spring Court but said nothing to him. He had a similar blanket to the one on the couch folded on the ottoman that matched the chair, the novel Lucien had been reading before he left for his mission sat bookmarked on top of the blanket. 

Plants and candles littered the space, nicknacks reminiscent of Spring and autumn sat on nearly every shelf.  A small coffee table separated the couch from the fireplace, on it my own books sat, one a precursor to the one Lucien had been reading and the other a gift from my father when I was younger that talked about constellations and astronomy. As I led Eris inside I could see his eyes sparkle and watched his shoulders completely deflate as he stepped over the boundary, I closed the door behind him and the wards locked into place again. 

Eris looked around a second before he found himself standing in front of the fireplace. He squatted down and sparked the fire to life before he stood back up and spotted a small wooden carved figure of a fox sitting regally, it had scratches and tiny dents in the soft wood but it was after all over 500 years old. Eris picked it up and turned it over, his eyes found mine and he looked like he was going to start crying.

“You still have this?” His voice cracked. Fuck.

I nodded. “Of course I do, it was the first gift you ever gave me.”

He had carved that fox for me by the edge of the pond the next time we had visited, it had become our regular spot to go when our fathers were meeting.

He set it back into its spot and wiped his eyes where tears had begun to bubble. I moved to sit on the couch and he took a few shaky steps forward before he dropped to his knees and buried his face in my lap, tears spilling from his eyes. Fuck this was so similar to the day he had been told he was to be engaged to Mor. 

I entwined my fingers in his hair, trying to sooth him softly but my own tears were beginning to line my eyes. We sat and he cried in my lap for an hour before he began falling asleep where he sat on the floor with his head on my knees. I couldn’t begin to comprehend why me still having that fox caused him to break like that, I wanted to ask but knew if I pried it would probably cause more pain. Somewhere the voice in my head answered me with the thought “because it shows you actually care. That you've always been there and always will be.”

I noticed his breathing had slowed, only catching here or there and I moved a stray hair behind his ear and he looked up at me, his sorrow filled eyes finding mine.

“You aren’t going back tonight, are you? It's awfully late and I wouldn’t want you to get sick from winnowing.” My voice was barely audible but he shook his head and sniffled softly.

“Then let's go get you into some comfy clothes, yeah?” He nodded and leaned back onto his knees to let me stand.

As I stood I ran my fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes to lean into my touch. Mother save me, even after crying for so long he still managed to look so pretty. I extended my hand out to him and he placed his in mine gently, as he stood his knees popped and he cringed; he had spared them no mercy with the force he collapsed onto them with earlier.

I led him to Lucien’s room, the two had to be a similar size I gathered based on what it looked like when they stood beside each other earlier. An old wooden dresser was tucked into the corner of the younger male’s room and I led eris to sit on the bed as I scrounged through the drawers till I found a pair of sleep pants. I pulled a loose white sleep shirt from the closet and passed them to Eris. 

“Go ahead and change, I’m going to slip into some comfy clothes of my own. My rooms right across the hall, when you are done just head to the living room. I’ll make us some tea and we can relax. Okay?” he just nodded as he looked at the clothes and I slipped out of the room, closing the door and stepping into my own room. 

I pulled a wine, almost maroon color set of satin pajama set, a tank top and pair of shorts, from my own dresser; quick to change into them I wrapped a matching sleep robe over my shoulders and slipped back out into the hallway. I could see Eris’s shadow on the wall of the hallway, the events of the day catching up to me as I processed everything now that I finally had a moment to breathe softly. I stepped into the kitchen, making us a pot of chamomile tea, drizzling the slightest bit of honey into our cups. 

Eris looked at me with the saddest smile as I handed him the cup and he took a sip of it. I put my own cup on the coffee table Eris following suit as he swallowed; he scooted a few inches down before he laid down on the couch, his head on my lap. My fingers found his hair as I watched the fire flicker in the hearth, he had one hand resting right above my knee which he clung to me with as if I would be ripped from his grasp. 

After a few minutes his breathing became shallow and I looked down at his sleeping face. He finally looked relaxed, I reached above him to pull the fur blanket onto his frame, and began humming a soft lullaby my father would sing to me when I was upset. 

I must have fallen asleep myself, because next thing I know I was woken up by the wards unlocking. As the door was pushed open Lucien stilled in the doorway, eyes wide like he had walked in on something he shouldn’t have. He settled after a second and shut the door behind him softly, wards clicking locked.

“I thought he was going back tonight?” Lucien raised a brow in question.

“He was originally. I offered to bring him back here to relax before he had to go back…” I trailed off

“But?” Lucien brought our cups to the kitchen, sitting them softly in the sink with a clink.

“When we got back, he spotted the little fox he carved me and broke down crying. I mean he was fully on his knees crying into my lap Luci.” I sighed and tucked a stray hair away from Eris’s face.

Lucien hummed in acknowledgement, quickly washing the cups and putting them away. “You know why?”

“No. He didn't say anything once he stopped crying.” I mumbled softly watching the way Eris’s features softened as I stroked his hair back.

Lucien stalked across the living room barely making a sound, besides a creak of a floor board. Leaning back and kicking his feet up onto the ottoman, he threw the blanket over his legs and sat the book on his lap.

“Its because he has realized that after all this time, you still genuinely care about him. That you have never once had a thing against him, never once thought him the terrible male everyone else does. That you still care, always have and always will.” Lucien sighed before he continued. “After all they said tonight, I think it got to him. When we went to the bathroom, he said something that got to me even. It didn’t make sense to me till now.”

I looked up at Lucien who had his head leaned back and was staring at the ceiling. “What did he say?”

His amber eye found mine, something serious in them. “I barely caught it under his breath, probably shouldn’t have even heard it. But he said ‘she's why i’m doing this, she’s why I’ve got to be better, she’s why.’ He was practically chanting it under his breath. I think Azriel’s words got in his head, I know he struggled with feeling he was enough of a good male to still call you his friend. Our father’s abuse broke how he views himself, so under that mask he wears opinions to get to him when it's. It’s a lot for him, it gets to him.”

I nodded, felt the tears line my eyes again but Lucien caught me off before I could say anything. “So when he saw that one little figure, it might be silly to you to see him cry over it but it was proof that even to one person, one person he cares for more than the Prythian itself, that he is none of those things and that someone actually cares, shattered him. Trust me when I say this hun, but he would raze all the courts to the ground if something happened to you, so yeah your opinion of him matters more than anything to him.”

Tears ran down my face slowly. “But why?”

“Why what?”Lucien half smiled.

“Why do I matter so much” I sniffled

“Honestly, I don't know, just do. If I had to guess it's because you have been there since the beginning, since before his life went to shit.” Lucien hummed. “Now stop crying or you’ll wake him up, wipe your cheeks off.”

I wiped my face and nodded quickly. “Can I ask something?” Lucien mused.

I nodded. “Yeah?”

“You emphasized the fact that he was on his knees. Like you had seen it before, what happened last time that made you realize how important the reason for crying was to him, whatever it was?” He returned his gaze to the ceiling.

“It was the woods after he was informed about his engagement to Mor…” I mumbled and looked down to watch how Eris’s fingers clung to my leg. 

“Oh.” Lucien hissed.

“He snuck out a bottle of alcohol and we ran off to our spot in the woods. He broke down in my arms, we broke down and cried together.” I sighed “He begged me to not leave him alone in the world.” 

Lucien sat up fairly quickly. “He.. He begged you?” Lucien’s eyes both found purchase on me. “He thought you would leave him and he begged you to stay?”

I nodded. “He begged and apologized and we both cried harder than I thought was possible. He asked if I hated him Lucien.” The younger male sucked in the sharp breath.

“What did you say to him?” The redhead murmured to me like it was almost forbidden to say it out loud.

“I promised him that I never have, never could, and never will.” I brushed Eris’s hair out of his face again and he smiled in his sleep and purred against my thigh.

Lucien’s eyes widened as if he realized something that had eluded him for years. “You made a deal with him that you would never be able to hate him… You wouldn't have made that deal unless you knew it couldn’t be broken no matter what. Your mates aren’t you?” 

I nodded and Lucien wiped his face with your hands. “He doesn't know does he?” 

I shook my head again. “No he doesn't” 

Lucien hissed under his breath. “Oh now you two have most definitely worked yourselves into a mess.”

I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean?”

“He loves you, I know that much. For you to matter that much to him he has too. He chose you for this whole fake dating thing for a reason then” Lucien mumbled. 

I stilled and cut him off. “He said he chose me because I was the first female that came to mind that he trusted enough to ask to do this.” I hissed.

“The first female,” Lucien hissed back, “Because he is in love with you.”

We both sighed loudly and Lucien turned to me with a soft look in his eyes. “Just don’t let him burn himself out is all I ask. He’s the only other good member of my family, snuck me out to Spring Court, warned me about what they were going to do to Jes.”

I nodded and he stood. “I'm going to go take a bath, have a good night, I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Jesminda came up, after all these years it was still a sore spot for him. Especially after he had seen Elain hanging on Azriel, I was just surprised he brought it up himself. Showed how much Eris truly meant to him, made sense why he cared so much but his wording confused me. 

“What do you mean by ‘Don’t let him burn himself out?’ Lucien?” I furrowed my brows in confusion. 

Lucien stilled in the archway of the hall, his back still to me as he looked over his shoulder. “I mean he is willing to play with as much fire as it takes to stay close to you even if he burns out in the process. Don’t let him burn out, keep his spark ignited, fan it into a raging forest fire. We both know the capability he has to become one of the best males there is, we both know the only reason he has to do that now is you. He is reforming Autumn for you it seems like. Keep that spark fanned, strike out whoever wants to snuff it. The only thing keeping him burning is you.” Lucien’s mind was racing as he spoke but mine was equally so. 

He turned and looked me dead in the eyes, a fire raged deep within them. “Promise me, make a deal with me here and now.”

“What?” I was taken off guard by his tone of voice.

He strode over to me with his hand extended. “Let's make a deal here and now that you will protect him, that you won't let him burn out or let anything bad ever happen to him again. That you’ll chase his terrible thoughts away, just like you did tonight, whenever they become unbearable for him.” 

I looked back down at his hand, then back up into his amber and metal eyes. I placed my hand firmly in his. “It's a deal.”

I didn’t want anything from Lucien in exchange, knew we both wanted the same thing here, for Eris to be happy. I knew what my purpose was the second I felt the sting of a new bargain tattoo on my upper right arm. As I pulled back from Lucien and looked to the spot i had felt the sting, I knew that no matter how long it was going to take even if we got into a terrible argument after this arrangement, that I would wait for Eris and be there to chase his fears away, knew the second my eyes locked on the tattoo that perfectly mirrored the wooden fox Eris carved for me all those years ago.  In the same spot on Lucien’s shoulder was a constellation in deep red ink.  

Lucien smiled at me and returned to the archway calling over his shoulder before he disappeared with a smirk. “Goodnight Sister.”

It felt like my body absorbed all the heat it could from Eris and pushed it right into my face, my heart racing and an ache settled in my chest that was only soothed by Eris’s fingers clinging slightly tighter to me. I settled taking the second throw pillow and putting it behind my head, the least Lucien could have done was give me his blanket before he left, Fuck. 

Taglist:

@stained-glass-eyes0708

@acourtofbatboydreams

@abysshaven

@wallacewillow0773638

[poppy-metal]

ok before we get into the Thick of citygirl!reader’s return to the small town i was plagued by visions of her and ranch hand!art from earlier in the summer.

the town’s summer rodeo was coming up, and coming from new york, you didn’t really have a clue what that meant. you’re also bored bc your preferred form of entertainment for the summer was avoiding you. you’ve been chewing on your straw for the past ten minutes as you look out onto the ranch from the porch, brows furrowed.

it had been the third time you seduced art; him taking you in the toolshed after you bent over in front of him in a white sundress, the hem riding up to show your glistening cunt. he knew you had played with yourself earlier; it was the flush in your cheeks and the glossy lidded look you gave him over your shoulder. “oops, guess i dropped that,” you had drawled to the other ranch hands who were oblivious to your flirtations with art. he was pounding into you so hard the flimsy wood walls were shaking, but his hips stilled when he heard the other ranch hands coming back from feeding the cattle. “fuck,” he hissed—partially because the fear of getting caught wracked through his body and partially because you clenched on his cock in a way that brought him right to edge. of course he came in you and zipped himself up like normal, but there was a tenseness in his shoulders that hinted at something else.

well, it’s been five days, and you desperately needed him. you knew that he was avoiding you, but he couldn’t avoid his work, and if you were working alongside him, he can’t avoid you. so as the summer sun beats down on your back, you help pick strawberries alongside the ranch hands. “you comin’ to the rodeo, sweetheart?” patrick asks from a few rows down. he was eating more strawberries than he was picking. “now i’ve been hearing a lot about this rodeo, but i haven’t the faintest clue what it entails,” you respond. “well you’ll see a few of us bull ridin’” patrick starts, “you’ve ever seen that before up in that big ol’ city of yours?” you shake your head.

“don’t know why you do it, patrick,” art interjects. you shiver at hearing the timbre of his voice again. “getting bounced around, risking getting hurt like that? for what? a few seconds of adrenaline and pride,” art shakes his head, “idiotic.”

“you only say that because lily doesn’t let you do it anymore,” patrick retorts, and at your interested expression, he turns to face you. “art used to be the best in the state but once lily made him an honest man, he stopped. said she was scared every time he got on, and he couldn’t do anything that would hurt her or make her sad. but you? you look like a girl that enjoys a bit of danger.”

you do, and he’s standing next to you watching you with an expression that lights your skin on fire. “well, i won’t say i’m not intrigued,” you start, “always wondered what it’s like to ride a cowboy.” a low whistle comes from another one of the ranch hands.

“now what about this,” patrick starts, “i last long enough on that bull tomorrow, and you give me the honor of taking you out one night.” art stiffens next to you. the other ranch hands laugh and keep their eyes on the scene entertaining them during the day’s menial task. the plan lays itself out in front of you.

“now how bout this,” you say, sweeping your eyes over the men leering at you, “who ever lasts the longest on that bull tomorrow gets to take me out and help me fulfill that cowboy fantasy of mine.”

“now that’s a deal, sweetheart,” patrick says.

so riddle everyone’s surprise when art shows up in his gear and sets the town record bull riding. of course all the ranch hands grumble that your promise and prize was now wasted because art—loyal, cuffed art—did not need your prize and would never ever cash it in.

but he does that night when you ride him on his bed, bouncing and mewling on his cock the whole night wearing his cowboy hat. lucky for him, the following morning was his day off because he was DRAINED (in all senses of the word) and felt no desire to get up out of bed, staying curled up behind you with his arms firmly wrapped around your waist.

(but yes! i’m going to be a primary school teacher, so teaching the littlest children 🙂‍↕️ more ranch hand!art will be coming slowly once i’m more settled into my job)

- 🤠

WOOOF WOOOOOOF WOOOF

please art is so petty - can't handle anyone else having reader even though he can't claim her as his publicly, anyway. think this is where reader starts to fall for him - no ones ever really fought for her before. and arts display of possessiveness, even if she's the only one who knows it for what it is, when everyone else just thinks he's being a gentleman and keepin' the men of the town from harassin' you, you know what it's really for. can see it when he catches your eyes after he dismounts and a rush of butterflies take off in your tummy. the look says, you're mine.

and when lily comes busslin' up to him to fawn over him he doesn't even have it in him in the moment to feel guilty for not thinking about her at all, head full of all the ways he plans on collectin' his prize from you - your eyes meet his over his her head and he knows you'll be waiting for him by his truck later.

and late when he fucks you on his cock you can feel some of that rushed clumsiness of the first few quick fucks vanish as he takes his time - on his bed - a room he hasn't even allowed lily in, because it's improper - he takes his time feeding you his fingers - watching the way your body twitches and writhes for him - you're so reposnsive - so wet and tight - and he feels some part of him come out that he's always strugglin' to suppress - that he claims isn't there in the first place, but is now, with you naked and hot on his lap - "you wanted to ride a cowboy? s'that what all this is about, honey? you just needin' some rough and tumble dick in that city girl cunt?"

he eases you down onto him before you can answer - "take it, then -" because if you're here giving him hell just to get your rocks off, the least you can do it bounce on his dick like the whore you are. you're a wicked, wicked girl - you're also the only thing that's makin' him feel alive, his blood buzzin under his skin as you arch your back and slam your hips up and down on his cock like you're laying down your claim on him.

"how are you so - fuckin' good at this -" he doesn't really want to know - it's just insane - how he sinks inside you and immediately loses thought. some witchcraft in your pussy the way he can't stop thinking about it, even when he shouldn't be. he grips your ass in a punishing way, spanks you once, hard - "give me my prize, honey - ride me harder, c'mon -" and he spanks you again, like he's urging on a horse, spurrin' you and you go buck wild for it - squeezing his dick with your pussy, makin' his goddamn toes curl as you fuck him harder. the bed shakes on its hinges - your hands comes down to his bare chest to balance yourself as you rock back and forth wildly.

"fuck, that's it." you cry - "it's your pussy - you earned it - fuck me just like that. fuck that pussy - yeah - show me who's boss around here -"

cause you know he fuckin' hates your attitude - can see his need to straighten you out burning under his skin everytime he looks at you, know he blames you for his own weakness and you love it - love his anger and his hatred because it's passion and it's hot and you can feel how fucking badly he wants you when he grabs your waist and sits up so your chest to chest and wraps an arm around you, yankin' you against him, and then you're moving together, bodies slick and sliding and your mouths are a hairs breath apart and he's so deep - he's so fucking deep you can feel him in your throat - robbin' you of breath -

you don't have to beg for him to cum inside you like you usually do - it's just a known fact that he's gonna. you grab his face and press your forehead to his and you lock eyes and his fury looks alot like raw fuckin' desire when he pumps you full of his seed.

you're both so breathless and fucked out after, he doesn't think to tell you to get out - he tips to the side with you in his arms, holding you to him as you both come down. he thinks he'll tell you to get cleaned up and get goin' in just a few minutes. just needs to catch his breath.

you both fall asleep within minutes.

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts III

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

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve been taking more time off,” I wonder when he decided to count the number of hours. But it was true—I’d started doing a half-days on most Saturdays and coming home earlier on week nights. Like tonight, I’d been home by half past 6. “I’ve been trying to spend more time at home.”

“Too little too late,” Gray mutters.

“What?”

“I just mean,” he sighs. “I…y/n, we barely get time together. We’re like flatmates these days aren’t we? We haven’t-“

“Don’t you dare Gray,” I wasn’t having this. I refused to hear what he was trying to get at.

“Y/n don’t be difficult-“

“Difficult!? You can’t go radio silent on me and then decide 3 years can just go down the drain.”

“I’m not saying that-“

“Then what are you saying!?”

The silence rings to the corners of our kitchen. The dishes are long forgotten, suds drip down my elbow and onto the floor, and Gray’s towel hangs like a white flag beside him.

“You knew what this job meant—you work with the same clientele, and you encouraged me to go for it. I’m trying to be better I don’t get it.” I finally say.

“I’m saying something needs to change.”

What takes me back the most is the even—even apathetic, tone. It’s the fact that he must have been thinking on this for long enough to be so level-headed about it.

Who has he talked to, I wonder. His sister? Our friends? Who’s advised him to go in this direction because the Grayson I know wouldn’t do me like this. Couldn’t.

Are you even the y/n Grayson knows, a small voice asks in my head.

“We’ve changed, I get it.” My tone takes a pleading ring to it and I hate it. “But you can’t just decide this isn’t worth fighting for Gray-“

“I’m not Y/n,” he puts the towel to the side and grabs my arms. “I’m not throwing anything away but we need to bloody figure something out because…I’m unhappy. And can you really say our relationship is the same? Can you call what we’re in a relationship?”

“Why not?” I whisper, tears choking me. “I thought we love each other and we support each other and-and we see each other through thick and thin.”

“I love you,” Gray squeezes. “And I know we’ve seen each other through thick and thin but…I don’t know if I can keep supporting you at the expense of us.”

“Well what do you want?” I look up into his brown eyes. They’re steady like they usually were.

“I want you, selfishly. I want all of you.”

He had what he wanted, didn’t he get that? He had me. I don’t know what more of me I could give him. And that thought tears me right through.

“What happened to setting a date?” Gray steps back and takes his steady grip with him. I sink into the countertop behind me. “What happened to planning for our future? Marriage and kids and buying a home and doing something more?”

His voice raises as he talks.

“I feel like I’ve been living in limbo for the last year! Just waiting around for you. I don’t know how much longer I can wait-“

“We can set a date,” I say. “We can do all that! You-you haven’t brought up any of it either! If it’s been weighing on your mind why don’t you ever just say something!?”

“I shouldn’t have to!”

I’d hit a nerve. We’d had this conversation a dozen times.

“Of course you do! Like, I’m not a mind reader you’ve been stewing in these feelings for god knows how long and now you’re telling me you’re thinking of-of-of ending things!?”

There, I’d said it.

His face contorts into a flurry of emotions. My body feels ragged just saying these things out loud.

“When I spoke to Stewart and Bex they said-“

“Stewart and…” I was right he’s been talking. “You were talking to Stew and Bex!? Since when did you spend time with Bex?”

“Since I had a lot of time alone at home.”

Fuck, he managed to get the upper hand all the time with that one valid point he had.

“They both agreed with me that this isn’t right. I’m allowed to be upset and ask you for something to change-“

“But why didn’t you talk to me!” The switch to anger is quick when he admits he was talking to our friends. I think about the last few times we saw them—had they been judging me? Had Gray told them by then?

Gray tries to brush past and tell me more about his validated feelings, about how things had changed. I can’t hear anymore.

“This decision you seem to want to make for both of us should involve me too and yet you make it the talk of the town before consulting me. I’m so goddamn tired of the way you shut down Gray I-“

“I’m tired!” He butts in. “I’m tired of watching things change and being forced to move past it.”

I stare at him. He’s not bending whatsoever. He’s not even understanding the frustration at being the last to know his feelings on our fucking relationship. Didn’t he understand how iced out that made me feel? When I’ve been trying to be as mindful as I can?

“You know what Gray,” I sneer. “You talk about us changing but did you ever think that we’ve been changing since we first met!? The only thing that’s different now is we stopped talking!”

I throw the rest of the dishes into the soapy water and storm out to the only safe haven I had right now—our bed.

Everyone wanted parts of me I couldn’t give and I felt torn to shreds! I hardly recognized the girl in the mirror, I hardly remembered what it felt like to be me.

The only time I felt centered, a bit of calm, was here. With Gray.

And now I knew the feelings weren’t mutual. He’d been thinking of ending things while I had curled in his arms. While I had kissed him goodnight and hello. While we had dinner or drinks. While we hung out with friends who were privy to all the cracks in our relationship. Who knows how long it had been a one-sided feeling.

I bury my head into my pillow wanting to scream and cry at the same time. My head hurts but mostly my heart hurts. I feel betrayed by my bestest friend and the person I love the most.

You’re no better, the ugly voice in my head shows up again. You’ve done things you should be ashamed of.

I block the voice out. I block it all out until all I feel is numb.

Gray doesn’t come to bed at all that night. I drag myself out of the nest I’d created some time around midnight, thinking he fell asleep on the sofa. To tell him to come to bed since I knew our sofa wasn’t long enough for him to even fit on.

I sway in the middle of the empty living room. There’s nobody here. Definitely not Gray. He’d left altogether, to wherever he’s been finding refuge recently.

It hits me; I think I’ve done this to myself. I was alone. Really alone.

***

The scowl is permanently etched onto my face as I go about my Friday morning. I feel Harry’s eyes on me a few times but even he doesn’t broach the subject. We silently maneuver around each other until he leaves for rehearsal.

I think about calling my friends to talk about this but I realize all my friends who were up to date on my life had become interwoven with Gray’s. And I already know Gray complained about my job to them based on a few parties last year. So they definitely wouldn’t be unbiased listening to anything I said.

I regret then, not staying in touch more with my friends back home. For the first time in years I feel a bit homesick.

I decide busying myself with work would be the only thing to keep me sane so I throw on headphones and get down to business.

As the day starts to come to an end I put on Harry’s stereo with the mournful songs that had been comforting me today and grab a seltzer from the fridge. He wouldn’t be home until 8 tonight and he’s always been open about using whatever was in the general living spaces.

So I nearly have a heart attack when I see a shadow from the corner of my eyes around 6.

I give a shout when it comes with a voice and once my senses return I realize it’s just a sweaty Harry back early from rehearsal.

“What? Are you doing here!?” I press on my pounding heart. “Alexa music off.”

He’s grinning at the way I reacted and now he laughs, it’s a bending-over laugh and I chuckle myself as I replay how dramatic it all was.

“Wow.” He says when he finally catches his breath. “I wish I had that on video.”

“Jesus,” I swear. “I thought you’d be home a lot later.”

“So this is what happens when I’m not home,” he teases.

“Only on Fridays,” I collapse into the closest chair and tilt my head back. “God, I thought there was like, an intruder or something. Or a ghost.”

He laughs again, moving to the kitchen for a water. “Good thing ghosts don’t exist.”

“They so do.” I reply.

“There’s no proof that’s ever convinced me they exist.”

“You live a sad skeptical life Mr. Styles.” My breathing is finally regulated and I sit up to look at him. “I’ve seen one myself when I was a teen. I wish I could be a disbeliever like you.”

“You’ll have to tell me the story,” he leans on the island looking very amused.

“I will,” I accept his challenge.

“I cut rehearsals short,” he continues. “I’m knackered from this week. I just want to be one with my couch and get drunk and not worry about what moves to do and what song to sing.”

“Yeah,” he looked tired and his hair was getting a bit shaggy. He runs his hand through the damp curls. “I need a shower and I think I should do a trim.”

“Consider it booked,” I pull the phone towards me and text his usual stylist. I hear him move around the space and pause before he disappears down the hall.

“Are you heading home soon?” He asks.

“Hm?” I kill time responding, acting like I didn’t hear his response. I didn’t want to go home at all. I didn’t even know if Gray was home or not and I didn’t want to find out. Harry repeats his question. “No. I wanted to wrap up some things. I can move to the office if you wanted the space to chill out?”

He shrugs and tells me I could go where I want.

I wanted to be out of the way, and not home. So I move to the office. The same office where weeks ago I’d teetered on the edge of a fatal decision and now was faced with the possibility of that decision made for me.

I slump in the seat and take a moment to just decompress. A headache creeps around my eyes and I just feel lost and hurt and alone.

When I break the laptop open again I move like a slug, scraping the barrel of effort and coming up with nil.

“Uh y/n?” Harry’s head pops into the door a while later.

“Yeah?” I blink up at him, still in slug mode.

He stares at me a second, “Do you have plans tonight? You could…join me in doing nothing?”

When was the last time I did nothing? I couldn’t remember. And it sounded like a distraction—not a good one, but one that helped me avoid home for longer.

“Sure?” I respond.

Harry blinks. “Oh. Brilliant. Finish what you’re doing if you’d like or you can join me now. Oh. Could you also order us some pizza or something that’s greasy and bad for us?”

I liked the direction of this. I feel my sluggish feeling slide away. “I can do that.”

“Good. Great. This is going to be a good night.”

He moves away as he talks and his last sentence is shouted from down the hall. I smile, relieved to do something like this.

I consider texting Gray, but decide against it. He left last night without a word, making me worried and today there’s been radio silence. I wasn’t in the mood to take the high road.

I do as Harry asks. Meanwhile Harry had put on some peppier music and brought out a six-pack from the fridge. His head is buried in the pantry rummaging through.

“What do you need?” I come up behind him.

“Oh,” he pops out. “Looking for some sweets. I’m sure I have some somewhere.”

“Oh yeah!” I close the doors he’s looking in and open the top cabinet. His eyes light up when he spots the options. “Food’s on its way by the way.”

He rubs his hands and starts pulling things off the pantry. It’s a different energy than any before, he’s not picking on me or ordering me around. He’s just inviting me to be on the ins with him. My instinct is to stay quiet and see where it goes but I shake it off.

“Are we just playing with beer tonight or is wine on the menu?” I ask. I hated the taste of beer.

“It could?” He unloads the pile in his arms onto the island and starts rummaging through the wines. “How about this one?”

A white. I take it from him and head for some glasses.

We end up making a buffet for ourselves on the coffee table and when the pizza comes we settle in, chatting occasionally about the things around us.

“So what does doing nothing involve?” I ask when we’re situated on the couch. Harry’s left a few feet of space between us which is very appreciated. I pull my feet up. “Because I have to say it’s been a while and I don’t know how to do nothing.”

He laughs, throwing his head back. I find myself grinning in response.

“Touché mon amie.”

“Okay I actually got that,” I nod.

“Do you speak french?” He asks as he opens the wine and pours us both a glass, mine’s a lot more full than his.

“No but I spent a month in Paris when I was in uni,” I savour the sour flavours of the wine as it coats my mouth and settles me down. “So I learned the bare minimum. Now all I can say is bonjour, ca beigne? And also un verre du vin s’il vous plait?”

“So you cut right to the chase—hey are you alright? A glass of wine thanks. Now leave me alone.”

We laugh and I hold up my glass, “I was hoping you’d get the hint. Why is mine so full anyway?”

“I’m just drinking some so you don’t have to drink it alone. Then I’m gonna crack on with the beer.”

“Oh!” There he had to go and be thoughtful again. “Forget it, I will happily drink the bottle. Drink whatever you want.”

“Yeah?” He leans forward to put his glass down.

I lean over and pour his measly amount into mine. “There, you’ve done the sharing part.”

“So y/n,” he asks after we’ve grabbed our respective snacks of choice. “Can I ask why you were listening to all those ballads before I came in?”

“I need to get a bit more drunk before I do that,” I down some more wine, already feeling the buzz of it. Obviously this was not the cheap wine I generally had.

“Alright we’ll get you there,” he promises. His eyes flicker from his phone to me and back to his phone. “Uhh could I show you something?”

“Like what?”

“We’re releasing the MV for one of my songs a week before I go on tour right.”

“Right,” I name the single that’s been thrown around countless times this week.

“I got back the deck for what it’ll look like. I’m excited can I show it to you?”

It’s endearing, in a way, how eager he is to show it. His cheeks even have spots of pink.

“Uh yeah! Let’s see it!”

“Cool,” he grins. He turns on the TV and casts whatever video is on his phone to the screen. He gives me some background on how it was setting up a whole storyline and how they’ve already started filming some of the scenes.

“The shooting starts the week after this one right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be in Scotland for a few days. You’re joining me right?”

“Yes! I’m excited to see all the action myself.” I had signed up for the 4-day trip with zero hesitation. As someone who’s always been making up stories and concepts to most music I listened to, getting to see the bts for an MV was a dream come true.

“Really?” He asks.

“Yeah, it’s real excitement I promise.”

“You’re interested in it?”

“Yeah! I love music videos, it creates a whole new experience for a song we’ve probably listened to on repeat. It’s cool!”

“So this is y/n really enthusiastic,” he leans back in the cushions to get me in full. “Now I really know you couldn’t give a rat’s arse about tour.”

“Stop saying that!” I laugh. “I was just stressed. I am excited about all of it okay?”

“So you say,” with a final glance he presses play and I’m entranced as the narration takes us through the plan.

“Umm all I can say is wow.” I turn to him when it’s done. My wine glass had been emptied and my brain had been itched with the most beautiful location and storytelling I’ve seen in a while. “That’s like a mini movie.”

“That’s what I said!” He exclaims. “It’s going to blow everything out of the water.”

“Look at us, doing nothing.” I realize we’d turned around and talked about work.

“Bollocks we’re no good at this.” Harry slides a hand down his face and I laugh at the dramatics. “Let me refill you at least.”

I happily oblige.

We talk about the mv some more, and move onto the tour. Harry asks me about the concerts I’ve been to and we get the kind of excited when you’re tipsy once we find out we were both at a Coldplay concert four years ago in London.

“That would’ve been before the success so I would have been just another bloke to you,” he notes.

“Yeah, imagine we crossed paths then? That would be crazy.”

“If we did, we might still be doing this tonight, just as mates,” he points to between us. “Or you would have fallen in love with me and I would have sacrificed my music to raise our kids.”

“What!?” It’s so absurdly ridiculous that I nearly snort my wine. “Where did that comes from!?”

“Admit it,” he puffs out his chest. “That would have happened. And I’d be so committed-“

“Well you’re assuming that in a 4 year time-span we would get to the point of having kids. So firstly no, secondly who said you had to sacrifice your career?”

“I-“ he stops mid-sentence, looking into the distance.

“Exactly!” I shout. “You’ve got nothing. You’ve just made up a story that makes you sounds good and noble!”

“Fine,” he settles down. “Fine! We never meet and you end up with your Duran bloke and I end up a musician.”

“Is that all I’m reduced to?” I raise my brow. “Who I’m with?”

“No!” He leans between us to pat my leg. It tingles. “No I didn’t mean it like that. You’ll do great things. I just mean the person you end up with isn’t superstar Harry Styles.”

I roll my eyes, “I need more wine if I’m gonna be subjected to any more of this bullshit.”

“Bullshit?!”

“Mhm,” I pop a gummy into my mouth and ignore the look of shock on his face.

“Fine. Then tell me about your bullshit,” he raises his can. “What’s happening to make you so ferocious this morning.”

Oh god. I hold up a finger and shimmy forward for some more wine. I’d drank 2/3 of the bottle and I was definitely tipsy. Maybe I’ll just sip this one.

“Fine. If you want to hear it.”

“I do.”

“I got into a fight with Gray.”

He raises a brow, I continue.

“He’s upset with me and complaining that I work a lot and that he feels like I’m his flatmate!”

“Flatmate with benefits.”

“Shut up!” I groan. “Not the point.”

“Sorry!” He holds his hands up.

“I don’t think he realizes how much of my head is just Gray like, I’m always thinking about him, about what I could do for him and say to him just to make sure he feels seen and reassured and loved! You know I’ve asked you for half-days on Saturdays when you don’t have a lot going on-“

“Mhm,” he nods along.

“I’m like, making sure I’m being a good partner. And apparently he’s been upset and not saying anything.”

“The old silent on the home front.”

“Yes!” I nearly drip wine as I pump my hand. “Yes, on the home front he’s bloody broody and quiet. I knew something was on his mind but like always he’s tight lipped. Even when I asked him a week ago he said he’s just been working a lot. What a liar!”

I complain about how it felt to be iced out of my partner’s emotions and having to guess all the time.

“Then I find out he’s been talking to all our friends to get advice.” Harry raises his brows in judgement and leans back into the sofa, and the small gesture makes me feel so validated. I didn’t realize how much I needed a third-party to just listen to my side of things. Until now, I’d literally not had anyone to talk to about this especially since I avoided talking about work with Gray. I get misty eyed.

“And when we’re talking he’s like so-and-so said this as if I want to know. And!” Now I was on a roll. I put my glass down in fear of spilling it on the pristine sofa and get on my knees to emphasize my frustration. “And the girl he quoted? Get this, I met her—Rebecca—at a job I did like a year ago? And we got along fabulously and I invited her to this party we threw right because she was new to the city and all that. She met my other friends and she fit in so well they invited her the next event. I got her into the group and now she’s talking shit about me with my fiancé behind my back!”

“She’s probably got a thing for your man,” Harry suggests.

“Oh she definitely does!” I’m animated as I continue. “She so does! I’ve caught her making eyes at him before, and laughing a lot whenever he makes a joke. I even mentioned it to him once but he said he didn’t notice.”

“He probably didn’t,” Harry shrugs.

“I know, the male species is a wonder. You get big flirts like you and then otherwise they’re completely oblivious.”

“I’ll have you know when I was a teen, a girl literally gave me a valentine cupcake and I just thought—well I knew she liked to bake, so I thought she just had extras. I didn’t understand why she didn’t speak to me the rest of the year.”

“No way,” I laugh—a lot because the wine was definitely sloshing around in my head, but also I couldn’t imagine Harry being that aloof. “I guess it comes with the ego territory. Were you less of a jerk as a kid?”

His jaw drops. “You just called me a jerk right now. To my face.”

“I did,” I say with glee. I stand to get the full picture of an offended Harry. “And I don’t regret it. So? Were you nicer as a kid?”

“No I’m not answering until you take that back.”

“What! You are a jerk…sometimes! I’m not taking it back!”

“You have to take it back otherwise I will cut you off on the wine.”

I take a step back and stumble as he speaks. Which makes me laugh more. “I think I should cut back. I am a hot mess.”

“At least you’re laughing,” Harry stands too. “It’s world’s different from this morning.”

Just like telling someone not to think of an elephant, I think of the elephant.

“Noo no don’t do that!” Harry rushes towards me and bends down to look me in the eye. “I liked it when you were smiling just now c’mon.”

“Well you reminded me why I was so upset-“

“Can’t stay grumpy, just give me another smile. One smile! Small teeny tiny smile—there it is!”

I can’t help it with his face in mine and the way he’s putting on a voice to get me to smile my face splits in a grin.

“You’re soooo annoying!” I push him but unstable and drunk I fall backwards.

I don’t know what happens next but I’m on the floor looking up into Harry’s concerned face.

“Y/n? Y/n!?”

“Yeah,” my head pounds as I try to make sense of where I am.

“Fuck,” I hear Harry say. He moves away and the overhead light attacks my eyes so I squeeze them shut.

I hear him, panicked, on the phone.

“No!” I try to call out. “M’fine! Don’t even worry-“

“Stay down Y/N,” he’s back by my side. I try to prove to him that I’m okay and sit up but a few inches off the ground and my head feels like it’s full of bees.

“So many bees,” I murmur as I go back down, now a pillow behind my head.

A few minutes later Harry’s helping me up gently. I tell him I wanted to throw up and he helps me to the toilet where I do. Gah. Why did I drink so much.

“I think I’ll head home now,” I hear myself saying to Harry like I was miles away.

“No,” his hands are around my shoulder and holding me upright as we walk out. The lift increases my nausea but I keep my eyes shut.

“I’m going home now,” I tell Harry when we get outside.

“No you’re getting checked out.”

“No!” I shove him away and nearly topple over myself. Why did he have to boss me around all the time? “Stop telling me what to do! My head hurts I’m going home!”

He tries to grab my hand but I yank it off. “Stop! Just stop!”

“Y/n,” Harry’s voice is low and comforting as he gets down in my ear. He smells nice too. “You passed out and you have a headache we have to get you checked out.”

“You’re no fun,” I cross my arms but follow him, only because my headache is so bad. As we get in the car I close my eyes shut as the lights assault them. Harry doesn’t let me sleep on the ride home even though his body is warm and steady beside me. I barely know where I am.

Harry’s POV:

I keep telling myself she would most likely be fine, just like the doctor reassured me but it’s hard not to beat myself up.

I shouldn’t have let her get that drunk, especially upset. I shouldn’t have gotten in her space and caused her to tumble back. I should have done something else.

The guilt is added to when I think of how I spoke to the doctor, demanding they do every scan and not to skip any. I hated who I became sometimes, when I pulled the famous card, but I thought it was necessary right now. Even y/n would give me a pass for using it.

I can’t stop replaying the thud as her head hit the hardwood floor, her eyelids fluttering as I rushed to her, her slack face when she lost consciousness for a moment.

It’s been hours since we came in. The doctor finally heads my way.

“Mr. Styles, your girlfriend is alright,” he holds up his hands before I’m fully standing.

I may have had to say she was my girlfriend after they wouldn’t let me have any say tonight…

“She’ll be alright, you did the right thing getting her here right away.”

“But?”

“No but,” he smiles. “Obviously it’s serious she has a moderate concussion but if she doesn’t exasperate any symptoms—takes it easy the next couple weeks, she’ll be right as rain. We can discharge her once the neurologist confirms. She’s just finishing with another patient right now-“

“She should stay overnight,” I cut him off. His cheeriness was starting to irritate me I felt like he wasn’t taking this seriously enough.

“Oh well,” he laughs but I know I’m irritating him right back. “She will be alright. I can provide you and her with a followup plan-“

“Doctor,” I say. “She’s staying overnight. If I need to rent a bed I’ll do that, tell me what I need to do, but she should stay under observation. Get the care she deserves.”

He pursues his lips, and I wait for him to agree.

“Yep,” he sighs. “I’ll tell the nurse. Just follow me and we can sort the details.”

We do that, I even take a selfie for the nurse’s daughter which grates on the doctor’s nerves even more. He leaves shortly after.

I get y/n’s room and walk there slowly, wondering how to apologize. Ever since December we’ve been playing a game of tennis with words and tonight I felt both of us relax onto the same note. Then this.

She’s sleeping when I get to her. My watch says 1am. She looks peaceful and it hurts even more.

The truth was despite acting like I didn’t, I did like Y/N but she was complicated, and the more I tried to untangle her web the more sticky things became for both of us. I didn’t want to make more mistakes than I have in the past so I’d kept my distance. Even if it hurt both of us.

Tonight was good though. Until it wasn’t. This was why I shouldn’t blur lines. You would think I’d have learned that by now.

I step by her bed, hesitating. Someone has wiped the remains of her makeup off and she looks so much younger. Like a sleeping cherub. My heart gives a squeeze.

I push back a strand of her hair, my hand wanting to do something. I settle for taking her hand in mine, it’s not the first time I’ve held it but like it always does, a flood of warmth rushes through me.

I never understood Victorian romances until her; just touching her hand got my blood pumping.

With a stroke of my thumb over her knuckles, she stirs. I freeze.

Her eyes flicker open, “Hey?”

My voice disappears. There’s too much that I want to say and nothing I’m allowed to say. Maybe a sorry. I open my mouth but she squeezes my hand. I forgot I was still holding hers.

“So much for doing nothing huh?” She cracks a smile and it breaks the marble I’d become encased in. I laugh and collapse onto the sliver of the bed.

“We should never do nothing again.”

“Nope,” she smiles, closing her eyes again.

“Y/N I’m really sorry for tonight. I feel awful-“

Her mouth parts. She was asleep.

I want to sit here with her until she wakes again, until the doctors kick us out. Something about seeing her so vulnerable here makes me want to confess the thing that’s been lodged in my chest for a long time.

I release her hand and move away from the bed. This was dangerous. Maybe I could wait in the waiting room until she’s released. Then take her home.

Something vibrates. It’s not my phone, and then I notice the purse I’d brought with us. Y/N’s.

I peek inside for the phone and her fiancé’s face takes up the screen. He looks younger. And then I remember, it’s like stepping out of the fog this night had put me in and into reality.

I pick up.

“Y/N it’s nearly 2 in the morning just tell me you’re alright? You haven’t been answering your texts I-“

“Hi,” I clear my throat and the line goes dead silent. I decide to continue. “Hey uh this is Harry. Styles. Uhm, don’t panic or anything because she is okay but she’s in hospital and-“

“What?” He comes back with a boom. “Why is she there what happened? Which hospital?”

I tell him which one, explain she bumped her head and I had to take her here. That the doctors said she would recover and be herself again soon. He simply swears and tells me he’d be there soon.

This was Y/N’s life. This was the right thing to do. Still, I stay in the room with my head in my hands and think about the whole evening again and again.

“Just tell me the bloody room…I don’t care about the time…”

The voice travels through as doors open and close in the hall and I look out. Grayson. Like a pitbull. I can see him through the rectangular window demanding to see Y/N.

I open the swinging doors and his nostrils flare as he spots me.

“Why the hell is he allowed in and not me?” He continues his tirade. “Does hospital policy not matter when it comes to the rich and famous now? I want to see her doctor and-“

The nurse turns to me, annoyed but before she can ask the question the doctor is out.

“What’s all this? Do you know the time sir, please follow me and we can talk-“

“I don’t want to fucking follow you. I want him gone and I want to see my fiancee.”

Looks are exchanged between the doctor and the nurse, finally landing on me. I imagine what they’re thinking—just another homewrecking famous rockstar, do we tell the fiancé or act cool?

“He should be able to see her,” I say in an even tone. I can feel the eyes on me, especially the laser beams from Gray.

“I thought-“

“Okay. Visitor pass him and let him in,” the doctor cuts his nurse off as she stares at me. Maybe her daughter wouldn’t get that photo tonight after all, and instead be told to pick better role models. It doesn’t matter to me. Not tonight.

I watch Gray get sorted, watch him walk down and to Y/N’s room. To his fiancée’s room.

I wonder how he feels, fighting with her last night just for y/n to end up here tonight. I wonder if that’s why he was so vocal tonight—the guilt.

But I suspected he was the kind of man that called himself easy-going and only got this raucous when another man was threatening his public image. It was pretty clear the hospital staff thought we had some pseudo-relationship arrangement. I don’t think Duran was daft enough to miss that.

Plus, I’d been the one to bring her here not him.

With a big sigh I take my phone out to call a taxi. It was my turn to go home.

I text Y/N from the car, tell her to rest over the weekend and let me know how she feels Monday morning. She could take the whole week off if she wanted but I also knew her and knew she would try to come back asap.

I try to piece back the marble armour I wore before tonight, it’s ill-fitting and hurts to get on but I do it anyway. This was why I couldn’t be the person Y/N wanted me to be; I tried to mix parts of my life together and it would only end with shite.

Y/N’s POV:

I don’t know who this man in front of me was. Or actually, I hadn’t seen him a long time.

I’d been discharged from the hospital on Saturday morning with odd looks all around. Maybe because Harry brought me in? And ever since, Grayson has been doting on me. Doting.

“Did you want anything specific?” Gray stands at the foot of the bed, asking me what he should make me for breakfast. The last time he made me a special breakfast was…last summer?

“I wouldn’t say no to pancakes?” I reply. “I looove your chocolate chip pancakes.”

“I’ll get it started,” he walks over to kiss my temple and leaves.

The weirdest part is that I feel weird; I don’t know why but Gray doting on me like this made me feel claustrophobic and…weird!

I look out the window to the overcast sky. Same, I think. At least for a Sunday, it felt fitting.

I pick up my phone and check the last response from Harry. Since I got discharged he’d been texting me to see how I was feeling. I think he was feeling guilty even though I told him it wasn’t his fault.

I tried not to drink when I was upset because back in uni it led to some shitty situations but the other night I’d overstepped my rule and done this anyway. And paid for it. I should have known better. And after the absolute misery of yesterday’s aftermath—the migraine and the vertigo and the completely lack of appetite, I don’t think I���ll be doing that again. Ever.

Today I feel a lot better. I still have a headache and I’m looking forward to breakfast with my painkiller, but the light doesn’t hurt as much and the nausea only comes back when I do too much.

You: I’ll be back in no time. Feeling better

Harry: I want you to feel the best so I’m banning you from working until Wed. And that’s conditional on you feeling better

Y: Doc said I can resume a lowkey version of my life after 48hrs

H: I didn’t like that doc. take my advice instead

Y: when did you get your md

H: same time you got yours

Y: I have an md?

H: being stubborn 101

Y: your jokes are a lot better when you text

H: cuz you’re not distracted by my face

Y: ooookay I’m no longer giving you the platform byeee

He was sassy, apparently. I never got this side of him before.

I read through the convo again and smile. But it hits me that it sounded like flirting. And that would be incredibly inappropriate. So I shove my phone in my bedside drawer and inch out of bed to join Gray.

We spend the day talking about a lot, but not about what we should talk about. Which, with the way I was feeling, was fine by me. At the same time it felt like we were both politely playing a role neither of us could put our hearts into. It felt shitty.

Gray has a session around 4 and I crawl back into bed, putting on a romcom I’ve watched a million times for comfort.

My body feels heavy and it has nothing to do with the concussion. The last couple days and my current relationship with Gray casts a shadow over my thoughts. I felt like making any decision was like wading through quicksand and running away just sounded better.

I rub my temples, hoping like a genie’s lamp, I could get an omnipotent spirit cast out and grant me easy wishes. I’d wish for things to go back to normal, for my heart not to be such a wretched thing. For clarity.

I pick up my phone and scroll to the one person I had run away from and have missed since. I didn’t talk to her very often but I thought I could use her no-nonsense approach.

My mom frets when I tell her what had happened. She goes quiet as I tell her I’d gotten drunk to forget about the troubles in my relationship.

“Relationships go through a lot of phases. It’s like going through those cave tunnels all made of rock and you gotta squeeze really tight sometimes just to fit through and continue on.”

“That is an amazing comparison mom, but I don’t know if this is one of those times. It feels like Gray’s already given up on us.”

“Well it’s been a long time he’s waited.”

“But he never said. He never talked to me.”

She sighs. “Your Grayson sure is a contemplative son of a bitch isn’t he?”

I laugh a little too hard and feel a pulse in my head. “I know. But then today he was so dang sweet—since I got home. He was so overprotective. And he made me breakfast mom and it made me realize I haven’t had that Gray in a long time.”

She’s silent on the other end. She knew there was more. How did I ever think, as a teen, my mom didn’t understand me? I think I just never understood her.

“But it felt weird.” I continue. “I feel horrible for saying it but I felt weird!”

“Was there heart?” She asks gently.

There wasn’t.

That’s what it was. And my heart weeps. All those actions without feelings.

“Have you thought about coming home?” Mom asks when the silence stretches. She always asked and I was the worst daughter in the world for never going back. The last time was when I graduated, for 2 weeks in which my family drove me crazy and I had been crazy in love with Gray and eager to get back to him.

“Maybe,” I close my eyes and slide down into bed.

“Your brother’s new girlfriend reminds me of that friend you had where she came on our camping trip and cried the whole time? What was her name?”

“Deanna? Mom I stayed friends with her all through high school! She was just very anxious.”

“I know! His girlfriend’s always darting about, jumping at tiny things. Reminds me of her.”

“Well Jace better be treating her right.”

“He does,” mom’s voice raises. “You should see them together. It’s cute but they’re still teenaged loves so I try not to break his bubble too much.”

Mom had definitely relaxed a lot since I was a teen. She had practically chased my first boyfriend away.

“Remember your first boyfriend?” She asks and I shout how I was remembering that too. We end up talking about old memories, and I feel a little more known and a little less lonely when I hang up.

Gray and I order takeout and I try to watch a movie with him but the strain on my eyes gets too much. I tell him I was going to bed and insist that he stays and finishes. I didn’t feel like watching him play boyfriend.

I’m eager to get back to work, for next week when I can go to Scotland for the MV. The eagerness comes from guilt but I carry both as I fall asleep.

***

I feel like a kid at Disneyland. Or maybe a Disney adult. Either way, I’m blown away getting to watch this MV come to life.

It’s long hours, a lot of waiting, and some shouting. But everything else is magic.

I came back to work last Thursday and other than an ear-splitting headache on the flight and a low-grade one when I stared at a screen too long, I was on my way to normal. When I got back to work Harry kept making excuses for me so I could work from the office but I refused to be treated differently and eventually he relented.

“It’s so freaking cold!” I jump up and down beside Harry by the cliffside. He’s just wrapped up a scene and the crew was taking a look at the footage to see if they needed anything more in this spot.

“Why don’t you put on more layers? Do you want an extra coat the crew might have-“

“No!” I continue wriggling around. “I’m heading back to the car in a few. This is an amazing view.”

“Isn’t it,” Harry turns to the sea that’s churning away much like my own heart these days. It feels calming to see it physically somewhere else.

We stand in silence except for my occasional teeth chattering and stare out to the view.

“Have you seen more of it?” Harry motions to the cameras. “What do you think?”

On this trip I’ve been giving my honest opinion, and I know I’ve offended Harry at least once but I didn’t come all the way here for my dream experience only to stroke his ego.

I tell him my take. We talk about the overall storyline about belonging and sacrifice until we’re interrupted with two hands holding out hot teas.

“You both looked cold,” the woman says. She was another assistant on set and I’m not sure what to do being waited on as a PA myself.

“Oh, thank you!” I make sure she knows I appreciate it. “That’s…that’s super kind thanks!”

She throws us both a smile and I stare at my cup, the heat tingling on my cold fingertips.

“Friendship and belonging yeah,” Harry starts up again.

“Yeah but also I like how you—your character, whatever, knows when it’s time to leave for his better growth. Sacrifice with his friend and sacrifice with the only home he’s known. Plus that’s a comfortable outfit.”

I tap a button on Harry’s jumpsuit. He grins. “You can have it.”

“I would be drowning in that you’re a lot taller.”

“We can have it altered,” he says. A shiver runs through me at we. I blame it on the cold.

I sip the tea now that it’s not scalding and find it’s a lot cooler. The open air, I guess.

“So you really love all this,” Harry says. “You weren’t joking about that excitement.”

“No I told you!” I flash to the night we did “nothing” which feels long ago. “I have a vivid imagination when it comes to music and I spent any spare courses on film so now I can interpret the heck out of any song and music video like my life depends on it.”

“We should get you back there,” he motions to the crew. “Get you on board.”

“Would I get the little clipboard and clapper?”

“Yeah!”

“Goals,” I sigh.

Little did I know, by Saturday as we’re filming our final scene one of the crew members hands me the clapper. He tells me I’m supposed to cut the final scene. I stare at him, thinking I misheard.

The clapboard hangs between us. He shakes it a little and I take it. It’s heavier than I thought.

“Harry asked if you can cut for the final scene, see the man behind the camera? He’ll look to you and give you the nod. Then you step in front and just do the thing.”

“Oh…” I’m still staring at the thing in my hand. My palms feel sweaty like it’s going to crash to the ground and break in two but that thought gets me to hold it closer. “Thanks.”

“Yep,” the guy walks away and I stare at the scene being filmed. Slowly I walk closer to the cameraman and he glances at me, notices the clapper, and smiles holding up two fingers.

He whispers something to someone beside him and they change the lighting. Harry walks off “screen” and I try to catch his eye to show him what I had. We catch it briefly and he winks before walking back onto the screen.

Oh my god! My heart is racing as I hold it in my hands. I had to chill. Or I’m gonna make a mess of things. It’s just a clapperboard and you’re saying one word!

Two minutes. I manage to calm down enough and when I get the signal I step in front of the camera and, as I see it later on, with the biggest grin on my face I clap down and yell “cut!”

Harry lets out a whoop and the crew cheers as the filming wraps up. I’m sure my eyes are wide as saucers as I go to Harry. He puts an arm around me and pulls me in, laughing because I tell him my heart is racing and how does he do tours when just that made me shaky.

“It gets easier,” we walk now with his arm around my shoulder. “One day you’ll be behind the camera shouting at me to move places.”

“Oooh getting to boss you around and get paid for it?” I look up at him and my breath catches because he’s handsome at every bloody angle. “Sign me up.”

He let me go and gives me a few tsks. Then he gets his phone and tells me to pose with the clapper and I do it happily. The picture shows a grinning girl with pure delight on her face.

“I’ll put that as your contact photo right,” Harry says as he gets into a jacket. “And that way at least when you call me with bad news I get to see a smile beforehand.”

“Har har,” I roll my eyes but I don’t hate the idea.

A lot of the crew decide to go out for drinks and dinner and Harry passes but I decide to go. I’d met some friendly faces and I would miss working with them, miss the overall energy, when we got back to London.

As I fall asleep that night, full and content, I realize I hadn’t texted Gray all day. I wake to check my phone and see he’d sent a text a few hours ago.

Sorry I was out for lunch with the crew. Babe it was sooooo fun I can’t wait to show you pictures when I get home.

I read the rest of his message asking how I was. I tell him my headache was gone and ask him about his week but I’ve fallen asleep before he can respond.

***

The morning I have to leave for tour I wake up way too early. Too much nervous excitement. I’d already brushed and checked my luggage was packed before crawling back into bed waiting for Gray to wake.

I watch him sleep, my eyes following the familiar contours of his face. We’d been making an effort at rebuilding the relationship since we agreed we at least had to give it a try after I got home from Scotland a month ago. On one hand it feels like starting a new relationship and also breathing easier because we were both on the same page. On the other, we’d finally started planning the wedding!

I would miss him, nearly 3 weeks away which is the longest we’ve been apart since we got together. Then I’d be home for 2 weeks, and away for the last week before Harry finishes with a couple shows in London. It was going to be epic and crazy as exhausted as I’ve been.

I huddle close to Gray and he stirs slightly but I kiss his neck to wake him.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his sleep.

“Morning,” I press another kiss to his face.

“What time?” He moves his head to kiss me back.

“Hmmm half past 7?”

He grumbles about it being so early but it stops shortly after with both of my legs on either side of him and my hair curtaining our faces.

“M’gonna miss your snooty face,” I say with another kiss. He finally opens his eyes and his hand comes up to hold my chin.

“I’ll be the one here missing you.”

“I’ll call every chance I get.”

“You’ll get to see so many new cities,” he says.

“Barely but I’m gonna try to make the most of it,” the travel schedule was hectic but I know there were a couple slower days I could use to explore cities. If I wasn’t completely exhausted.

“You’ll have a lot of fun,” he pushes my hair behind my ear.

“Remember Josie’s coming this weekend to stay the week.” Gray’s sister had taken the opportunity of a semi-empty flat to stay here while she studied for mid-terms. I had encouraged it so Gray felt less lonely.

“She’s gonna drive me crazy,” he huffs.

“Just behave,” I warn him.

“I don’t know how,” he smiles, rolling us around so he’s on top and showing me what misbehaving means. I don’t mind it a bit.

After a quick shower together we head out to the airport, Harry offered to pick me up on his way but I wanted to make sure I spent as much time with Gray as possible so he doesn’t feel like I was leaving him like before. I hoped he knew, at least, the effort I was making.

***

Stockholm, Hamburg, Oslo, and Copenhagen in one week. It was exhilarating and exhausting and hectic and so fulfilling.

I had seen Harry at small shows before but on the big stage he has a presence with a capital P. It’s amazing watching him perform and dance and be charming all over. He could be cheeky yet command the crowd at the same time. And despite all these sides he’s never inauthentic.

For the first time I’m able to take somewhat of a backseat. He already had his manager, tour manager, stylist, and tour chef with him to manage most aspects I would regularly. I became sort of an extra hand when I wasn’t having sit-down hours. That’s what I called the times I was sitting on the laptop sorting out future timelines for Harry’s life (and my wedding).

But I loved it. I’d pick a cafe close to our hotel and spend a few hours working. I’d call Gray during these times and if he was free we’d catch up on all I saw and he’d share stories with me until Josie crashed the conversation with stories of her own.

My eye bags require more concealer than usual and my body begs for nutrition but otherwise I love every second.

I’m back from my sit-down hours and get off the lift. Harry and his team were placed in the same hotel just down the hall from each other. As I approach my own door one of Harry’s band mates rushes out of his door looking stressed.

“He’s in a mood,” she huffs. “Don’t go in there.”

“Did something happen?” I ask.

She shrugs, “he gets this way. Usually at the start of tour I don’t know why. Kinda snappy just…give him space.”

I do as she says but the next morning as we wait to board our early flight to Paris he continues to be a dick to everyone.

“Maybe take a nap on the flight Haz,” one of his bandmates suggest. “We’re all bloody tired don’t be such a grump.”

“I don’t need a bloody nap stop treating me like a child.”

“What to do when you act like one.”

“You know what-“

“Woah hey c’mon.”

I startle at the commotion, I was starting to doze off but Harry rushing out of his seat and someone else stepping between him and Mitch wakes me entirely.

“Let’s stand there get some space.” Niji recommends.

Everyone follows the group away and it’s Harry, myself, and my bag left.

He glances at me, “Don’t you start too.”

“I wasn’t…”

“I could see it in your face.”

“What the hell? I was just napping I don’t even know what’s going on except that you really are being a dick.”

“There you go!” He points. “I knew you wanted to say it.”

“Guess I’m joining the others…” I pick up my bag and walk to everyone else. They’re all venting their frustrations for Harry and comfort me that he was an asshole to everyone.

It gets worse on the flight when our pilot announces we couldn’t land in Paris.

“What’s going on?” I ask our hostess.

“The weather, we apologize for the inconvenience folks but there is high winds and a lot of fog so it’s not safe to fly.”

“I have a show tonight,” Harry stands and starts to advance on the poor woman. “I need to be in Paris before 4 where are we landing?!”

“Sir we’ll be landing in the Lille airport. This is good because we’re only a few hours from the city-“

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry runs his hand through his hair.

“I understand,” the woman looks back at me and I nod, letting her know I got it.

“Harry we’ll only be delayed by a few hours-“

“I don’t have time for a few hours. We need to set up and run tests in Paris! We were supposed to be there yesterday but somebody booked the wrong shit!”

It was true, his tour manager had booked us for Monday morning rather than Sunday morning but at the time it hadn’t been a big deal since the show was 7 on Monday and we got an extra day to relax. Now it made things more stressful.

“Fuck this,” Harry mutters. The other members on the plane roll their eyes and put on headphones, sighing and looking out the window. It was obvious to everyone but Harry that this was just a minor setback.

I decide to be the idiot who enters the lion’s cage. Harry sits in the back of the plane jiggling his leg and trying to connect his phone to service.

“Are you trying to call Morgan?” I ask.

“No I’m trying to call the pope.”

“He might be sleeping.”

He looks up at me and if I wasn’t aware of how stressed he was I would laugh. Confused doesn’t even cover his expression.

“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to get to the show-“

“We have like a five hour wiggle room it’s just a minor-“

“I can’t perform thrown off like this!”

“There’s no reason to be thrown off!” I try to keep my volume contained but I can feel eyes on my back.

“I don’t need you right now just go.”

“So I guess the one week rule is true.” I mutter.

“What’s that?” He asks with an i-dare-you expression.

“I said the one week rule of you being an asshole on tour, I guess that was true. I wish someone told me I would have skipped it.”

“Well you could have skipped the whole thing and nobody would notice.”

His comeback is muttered but cuts like a machete and I feel like the words were physically slung at me. I stand there stunned, my heart sinking as he continues to fiddle with his phone until the call connects.

The shock wears off quickly leaving me with the familiar heat of anger. This was how I reacted to Harry and his dickish ways. How dare he? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to treat me like this when he wanted? I clench my fist as his voice rises with Morgan.

But beneath the anger is a raw hurt, his words struck a nerve. The same one Gray had struck once. I was replaceable, and all the efforts I’ve put into my career were unimportant and unappreciated.

I snatch the phone from Harry, annoyed at hearing him talk at Morgan.

“Hey Morgan it’s Y/N, yeah it’s a minor inconvenience but if you can get a bus or something to the airport it should be…”

I look to the hostess and she flashes me two fingers and a shake of her hand.

“About 2 hours to get into the city.” I finish. I nod along to Morgan’s questions and repeat details back. “Yeah just text me on my phone, not Harry’s. We’ll sort this out.”

“Thank you y/n. I’m really glad you’re there today.”

The words are a feather on a pile of nails, it’s nice to hear but Harry’s cruel words still ring in my ear.

I hand the phone back to him, expecting a thank you or an apology, but he just takes it and slinks down in his seat.

“It’s her isn’t it?” Sarah gets up on her seat on her knees to look back at Harry. I pause as I walk up the aisle. Is was who?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry mutters with his eyes glued to his screen.

“It is,” someone else says.

“Who?” Claire asks.

“Don’t take his mood personally,” Sarah says to me. “Paris is a touchy city for him.”

“Do you guys ever shut up?” Harry asks.

“No that’s why we’re your crew,” Mitch responds.

“We understand,” Sarah continues. Who was she talking about!? “Just don’t take it out on us. It’s not nice.”

Harry doesn’t respond but I sense a deflating happening on his side. Sarah’s words had gotten through to him but they’d just made me super curious.

I get filled in as we wait at the airport for our bus—Morgan had saved the day.

I hear about Harry’s french lover and how he got his heart broken a couple years ago. How the last time they were in France he had disappeared for a day and they’re all sure he visited her. How he can’t go to Paris without getting in a mood, either because he doesn’t get to see her or he’s anxious about seeing her.

“That’s like a city-specific booty-call.”

“Kinda,” Sarah laughs. “But I think he grew really attached to her so it’s a bit—he’s coming back.”

Harry stomps back to where we are, a tray of coffee in his hands. His team accepts it without a word. The world’s most famous non-verbal apology.

I watch him wearily. I still wanted a verbal apology from him, was that crazy? What he said was deeply hurtful. And hearing about his French lover makes me feel a way that I don’t like so I shut it out. I stick to the anger instead. It was easier.

He starts to warm up as we board the bus, cracking jokes with his band. I pick a seat near the front and stay there with my headphones. Aside from answering Morgan’s texts I pretend to be asleep. Eventually I do.

Someone flicks my hat, “C’mon sleepyhead! We’re in the city of love.”

“Wha?” There’s a crick in my neck and I feel rusty. But Harry’s right, we’d landed in Paris. He hovers above my seat with a jovial smile but it dies the longer I don’t return it. Serves him right. He doesn’t get to be cruel and wipe it away with coffee and a joke.

He gets the hint and boards off. I grab the last of the bags and join the group in the lobby where Morgan greets Harry like his long lost son.

“The trials aren’t over just yet,” he cringes. “I don’t know why Paris keeps fucking with me but we’re booked tight for rooms.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asks.

“Uhm well,” Morgan clears his throat. “The hotel overbooked. We have 3 rooms between the 8 of us. Luckily I have a mate who lives in town so I’ll crash at his. The rest of you need to share.”

“Morgan you’re fucking with me,” someone groans.

“No I’m sorry. I booked 5 with an en-suite but they screwed up. They’re refunding us half—I fought for that at least. I can use that to put others in another hotel if you’d like but so far I’ve only managed one room with two doubles.”

“Claire and I can share,” Sarah says.

“Good, Mitch you good with the boys?”

“I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Uh y/n…would you like me to book you an extra room somewhere? I don’t want you to be far from the team-“

“She’ll stay with me.” Harry says. “I’m performing tonight and then we’re moving to Amsterdam tomorrow afternoon so…”

I squirm a little as all eyes fall to me. Cool. Casual. “Sure.”

“Sorted! Let’s get these bags up and out of the way. I’ll have a car waiting down here in a half hour so you can all freshen up and meet me again.”

We trudge along and get off on our respective floors.

“The truth is,” Harry says as we scan ourselves into our room. “I’m probably not even gonna use the bed for the night so it’s all yours.”

“Oh,” I look around the room. It’s got a french touch and a lush queen in the middle. I could deal with not having to share it. I’m sure my fiancé back home would be happier too. Even though I want to ask why I don’t. “Okay.”

We settle our things in silence and a part of me wants to break it and start talking about the ride and Paris but I’m still not over his earlier behaviour so I continue giving the bare minimum. He doesn’t seem to care.

We head off for tests and I end up falling asleep in one of the booths. The tiredness was really creeping up. I could sleep through all the noise the band was making.

A particularly loud screeching from feedback wakes me up. I look down to the group, everyone’s mostly broken up while tech crew tapes down some wires and connects equipment. Harry sits on the edge of the stage, swinging his feet and texting away at his phone. He’s different from the grump this morning. He’s lighter.

Charlie catches me looking and waves, I wave back. There’s a pit in my stomach that grows heavier as the day passes into night.

Paris is not the loudest but super engaged. Everyone has some reference to Harry adorned on their clothing or their face and I can tell Harry has a special connection to the group.

“And finally,” Harry says into the mic. “This is a special song for my French friends. Tonight has been a blessing and I want to merci beaucoup for showing up!”

The crowd cheers as the intro to his song comes on. I listen to the lyrics for the first time since hearing the song last year and connect the dots to what Sarah said earlier. Maybe this was the girl. Maybe this was why he wasn’t sleeping at the hotel tonight.

As we’re leaving the venue and I’m going through a mental list of everything we could have forgotten, we spot a familiar face around back.

“Riley?” Mitch spots him first. “Is that you mate?”

“Hey,” Riley like, Harry’s old assistant Riley is standing with a couple other people who are having a smoke. He squashes his and greets the band who apparently still feel fondly when it comes to him. He looks the exact same but my feelings towards him are curdled after knowing what he’s like and how he left us high and dry.

That leaves Harry and I still hovering by the entrance alone, staring at the reunion by the time Riley comes up to us. I guess the band knew his friends because they get to chatting. I remember then, Riley ditched Harry to work for one of his friends. Must be a small world.

“Why the long face you two, c’mon still not holding a grudge are we?”

“Riley,” Harry addresses him. I stay silent, watching Riley from where I stand behind Harry.

“Nice to see Y/N’s still sticking around. How are you liking tour life?”

“Did you come to the show?” I find my voice.

“Yeah,” he nods all friendly like this was casual and he’s done nothing wrong ever. “I might be biased because I worked for the guy but Harry Styles is one of my top artist. And I’m in Paris until the Fall so why not come support him.”

“Well,” Harry says in the same deadpan voice. “Thanks for the support Riley.”

Riley glances over at him, smug. He knows he’s annoying Harry. So maybe I wasn’t the only one who got enjoyment out of doing that.

“Oh c’mon you’re still upset with me jumping ship? It’s been months! Y/N we’re cool right-“

Riley moves to walk past Harry and to me but Harry side-steps to stay in his way. I look at Harry. So does Riley, confusion sliding away to amusement.

“Oh I see,” he steps back, arms crossed. “Harry you sly dog you did it again.”

“We’re going now,” Harry says. “Try not to show up at any other shows.”

Harry tried to leave and I take the few steps to follow but Riley starts again.

“So y/n you fell for his trick too? I’m disappointed I thought you were immune.” Riley continues. “How’d he get you to the bedroom? Lots of booze? Or did you not even make it to the bedroom? Was it being treated like shit that did it for you?”

“What?” Now in the middle, I look between the two, wondering how this conversation took such a bizarre turn.

“You have some obsession with me Riley?” Harry steps back towards us. “Because you sure enjoy making up stories in your head with me starring in it. Don’t rope y/n into them either.”

“Not all stories,” Riley stays smug. “Some of them I’ve seen with my own eyes.”

They had to be talking about the last PA. The story Riley told me. Which means he thinks I…

“You really should watch what you talk about,” Harry reminds him.

Riley turns his attention to me, “Y/N I thought I warned you good enough. But I guess you put out as easily as the last one.”

“Riley whatever drama you’re trying to-“

“Mate,” Harry gets in Riley’s face so he can’t even look at me. I go quiet. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I get security to kick you out permanently.”

“Being the knight in shining armour doesn’t really suit you Haz,” Riley says. With one final judgemental look thrown my way he walks away. I have to lay a hand on Harry’s arm just to keep him from lunging at him but as soon as my hand makes contact he brushes me away.

This whole interaction was ego-bruising. “Why did he think-“

“Ignore him.” Harry cuts me off, his back still to me. His band, having watched the final scene unfold, now awkwardly shuffles back to us. “You okay?”

“Yeah but why-“

“Good.”

He cuts me off from asking anything and I don’t get to push because the group tries to defuse the situation by changing the subject. That includes the girls inviting me for drinks at their favourite parisian place. Harry disappears and so do those answers.

I try to poke whether the girls at dinner knew anything about his last PA but they barely met her. So I’m forced to eat oysters when they find out I’d never had them and the subject changes quickly to new and other things.

“So oysters thumbs up or down?” I’m asked as I slowly eat another.

“Weird texture…ehh?” I hover my thumb in the middle.

“Well too bad your partner—what’s his name again?” They ask. I tell her. “Ooh good name. Too bad Grayson isn’t here to cash in on all these oysters.”

They laugh and I think I’m not drunk enough to laugh as much with.

It’s the wee hours of the morning by the time we get back to the hotel. I crash alone as soon as my head hits the pillow.

***

After three weeks of tour I’m ecstatic to get back home. I wanted to sleep in the same bed for more than a day, I wanted a shower with even temperature, and I wanted a home-cooked meal.

And I wanted Gray.

I even catch an earlier flight—the night before rather than the next morning. I build up surprising Gray so much that I end up being the one who’s surprised when I come home to an empty flat.

I double check I’d set my phone back to the right time but it’s nearly 11. He must be out with friends, not a client.

I want to call him but still hold the idea of a surprise so I take a shower instead, put a load of laundry in, and make myself a sandwich. I crawl into bed at 1, still no Gray.

I end up tapping through our friends’ stories and find him in one. At least I knew where he was. But 2/3 photos I can find of him, Bex is standing too close for comfort.

I can tell by the photos there’s nothing going on. From his end. The most contact they have is his arm around her shoulder but for some reason all of this makes me mad. I’d broken it down to him that he couldn’t talk with people who had a thing for him because they would only give biased advice. But he didn’t listen. He said I was reading into it too much. And here she was, gazing up at him in every damn photo.

I hate that I wasn’t even home for a couple hours and already found something to annoy me.

I must have fallen asleep shortly after because I wake to poking on my side.

“Y/n? Is that really you? Y/n? Y/n?”

Gray.

“Hi,” I turn in bed. “I’m home early.”

“Shit!” He stands and sways back slightly. Wow, he was pissed. I hadn’t seen him this inebriated in a hot minute. “You didn’t say!”

“I know I-“

“I thought I imagined you.”

“Nope all here,” I grit my teeth. Why was I annoyed at my boyfriend for having a life, I scold myself.

Why is he so drunk and is this a new thing or did he only get this way cuz I’m not around?

“You finally came back to me,” he slurs. He smells like a brewery as he climbs into bed and I wish I could force a shower on him but I get swept up in his arms. “Hey you were right by the way.”

“About?”

“About.”

“Gray! What was I right about?”

“I’m getting to it! You. Were right. About Bex.”

“H-how do you know?” Weird coincidence. Or not?

“Sheshe she tried to kiss me!” He falls back laughing in bed. “I said nooo cuz I have a fiancée. Y/N. Oops. She was maaad.”

My heart drops. I knew it. That little bitch! And she had to go and try to kiss my man when he’s drunk! I officially didn’t like her. And the story itself adds to my irritation.

“Wow. Crazy. I’m tired as hell so I’m going to bed.”

I turn and leave my back to Gray. I didn’t want to see him this drunk, this chill about someone I warned him about trying to kiss him.

He splays on the bed where he is, draping an arm over me and pretty soon I hear his even breathing. That annoys me too, that he could fall asleep so quick. His arm is a weight over my body and I feel like I’m sinking into the bed and out of view.

***

It’s like Grayson and I have forgotten how to live with each other.

What starts out as minor annoyances turn into bickering pretty quickly. Our 1 bedroom flat begins to feel cramped and I desperately try to cling onto the idea of us because I can’t fathom us fizzling out like this but my fingernails are raw from scraping threads.

Work is the easiest it’s been in a while. With no set working hours I just spend a few hours everyday doing admin and running errands. Otherwise, unless somebody calls me I’m free.

I thought it would be great. So much free time with Gray, we could continue planning the wedding and catch up again. But he busies himself with work, and when we go on dates he doesn’t make much of an effort to talk. It’s like getting to know him all over again except he’s a broodier version of himself. It makes me mad and I end up picking fights.

I book brunch with some of the girls on the last Saturday I’m home, thinking it might help to have space from Gray and see other people. I thought everything would be fine. And it is, on a surface level—they treat me perfectly normal.

Except the only time they gave me space to talk about myself went something like this,

“So Y/N how are you? Busy touring how is that?”

“Oh yeah it was great! Really taxing but fulfilling too. I went to so many cities I haven’t visited even though I’ve been in London for like 7 years? Copenhagen was one of my fave-

“Ooh. Yeah I really want to visit Copenhagen this summer.”

“Oh I love Copenhagen…”

And I was officially asked out of sharing my own life. The rest of brunch was me reacting to everyone else’s stories and having the subject change quickly after I brought up anything about myself. When I mentioned Gray casually, I could feel the judgement. It’s like they were waiting on me to complain about him so they could pounce. It’s a weird and tiring energy.

As we all say our goodbyes I manage to catch Rebecca alone.

“Hey Bex,” I stop her on the edge of the group. “I know we haven’t talked much lately but I just want to say I don’t appreciate the moves you’re making on Gray.”

She raises a brow, “moves?”

“He told me you tried to kiss him. Those kinds of moves.”

Her face pinches. “Well someone has to make some.”

“Excuse me?” She tries to walk away but I rush to step in front of her.

“It’s no secret you and Gray are on the road to a breakup,” she has the audacity to look judgey in that moment and I want to slap the look off her face.

“What the fuck do you know about me and Gray? Back. Off.”

“Hey what’s going on?” One of our other friends drifts towards us and I notice they’re all looking our way.

“Just a friendly chat,” I say with sarcasm you can’t miss. At the same time Bex responds, “Y/n’s being delusional.”

I was going to get physical, I step back towards her but our friends get between us. I think they knew uni me, and knew I wasn’t afraid of confrontation.

“What the fuck y/n?” I was so tired of the look on their faces, like I was crazy.

“She tried to kiss Gray!” I reveal. “Last week! I’m just telling her to back off and I have every right to!”

It’s news to them. They turn to Bex who’s fidgeting with her sweater as a flush creeps up her neck.

“I-I he did! He tried to kiss me!”

I snort, “I don’t have time for your bullshit Rebecca. I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh yeah we all know you don’t have time y/n, you’re so busy these days.”

“Bex!” Someone scolds her.

“Somebody better teach her hand to keep her hand over her mouth because I will get through all of you if it means getting to her. You know you guys don’t know shit about my life. And you don’t even care to these days! Just because Gray told his sob side you guys treat me like-like shit!”

“That’s not true-“

“It is! You don’t even know my side! And I don’t care to explain because you lot are supposed to be our friends, not the judge and jury of my relationship.”

They stare blankly at me and nobody denies it so I continue: “I try so hard to stay involved in your lives knowing I can’t make it to half of our parties, I’m always messaging you guys and trying to stay on top of your socials to know what’s going on in your lives. I feel like I make all the effort and I’m just made the pariah.”

It feels good getting it off my chest. It feels amazing. I feel like I’m breathing an actual lungful of air now.

“We’re sorry if we made you feel that way.” I look at who’s said this. One of my oldest friends from uni. I scoff.

“You’re sorry if you made me feel that way?! I just said you did!”

“Sorry,” she says, quieter.

“Y’know it’s…it’s disappointing. I thought, when we became best friends first year of uni nothing could shake the bond we had. Apparently a man you met 3 years ago who vented to you about your best friend was just the thing.” All their faces are small and nobody makes eye contact with me. “Anyway, I do have to go. I have an appointment. Let’s not do this again.”

I walk away, proud of myself for saying what I had to and getting it off my chest. For sticking up for myself.

But the farther away I get, the more the adrenaline crashes through me and I end up walking onto the tube on shaky legs and collapsing in my seat. The reality of what’s happened falls into my lap and I see a bunch of burned bridges.

I spend a couple extra hours out after my appointment. I’m not going anywhere in particular, I let my feet carry me through the city as my mind continues to whir.

Harry texts me, asking me to stop by his place before I fly back for tour tomorrow evening. Apparently the concierge needed all his mail picked up and he needed a few of the items. It annoys me that he waited last minute to ask.

When I get home at 4, Gray’s vacuuming the flat. He stops it when I come in.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How was brunch?”

It’s the way he asks. I know he knows. Which means a group chat exists with our friends and him without me. It feels like another betrayal. Who keeps their partner out deliberately? Who opens up their relationship like a hockey net, open for anyone to take shots at?

“Why’re you asking?” I feel another fight coming.

“I can’t ask you how brunch went?”

“Did you hear something? Let me guess, did Bex snitch?”

“No, chill out why would Bex snitch?”

“Grayson,” I look at him deadpan. “Don’t bullshit me. If you have any respect for me, which I know now is not a lot, don’t bullshit me.”

He sighs but doesn’t say anything more. Doesn’t lie and doesn’t tell the truth.

“So?” I ask. “Is there like a group chat or something?”

“Let’s just drop it-“

“No! I’m not dropping this when you brought it up. So is there? Did you disrespect me in front of all our friends by talking shit, and then do it even more by allowing them to ice me out in a group chat you knew I wasn’t part of?”

He doesn’t respond. My temper flares.

“The hurtful part isn’t even not being part of the chat, it’s that you didn’t tell me.”

It makes sense now. I was always initiating birthday messages there or privately, thinking everyone was forgetting to wish each other. Now I know I was public fool number one keeping that convo alive when they were probably all wishing each other elsewhere. God. I was an idiot!

“Look I’m sorry y/n, after you stopped showing up to things they just made a new one so they don’t bother you.”

“Oh is that why? Because that was active up until a few months ago. So according to the timeline it was probably when you fucked up and talked shit about me to all our friends and they decided I was a bitch and they should all cancel me! Well I hope you’re happy Gray!”

“I’m not! I’m sorry I didn’t realize-“

“Stop!” I slam my hand into the wall and it hurts harder than I anticipated but I bite back the pain. “Just admit it! You want to paint me as the bad guy so fucking hard, and I am in some ways I know I’m far from perfect Gray! But instead of talking to me like normal fucking people do, you just iced me out and then isolated me from the only friends I’ve ever made in this stupid fucking city!”

I can’t help the tears now even though I don’t want to cry. I want to rage and scream and throw things about but the hurt is bigger and it bubbles over the pot and sears my heart.

I leave my shopping bags where I’ve dropped them and walk back out of the door before he can come up with a response. I couldn’t stand to look at his face. He’s betrayed me over and over and the whole time I was desperately trying to show him I hadn’t changed and I loved him.

I walk the 40 minute to Harry’s and the early evening air helps me learn how to breathe again. I take in gulps of it and try not to cry. I didn’t want to waste tears on Gray and my stupid friends. I didn’t want to do any of this! I just wanted to press pause on my whole damn life and take a nap.

Outside his building I pull out my phone and make sure I don’t look crazed. My hand is killing me and I ignore the bruising blooming fresh.

The concierge spots me just as I enter, and we make small talk about Harry on tour and his last few shows that would happen in London. I make a note to mention to Harry to send him tickets—apparently his niece listened to him.

He helps me load a cart with Harry’s mail and take it upstairs.

It had been over a month since I’d been in here and it’s weird that it feels comforting. Or maybe that was just after two weeks of feeling like a stranger at home.

Harry’s words on the plane echo back to me. Not that I was appreciated here either.

If there was ever a time to go back home to the States, it would be now. But that felt like running away. I had to sort my life out here before I made any rash decisions.

With a sigh I dump the paper onto the coffee table. After sorting what looked like bills from letters from miscellaneous I spot the two envelopes Harry wanted and put it to the side. I open the boxes next and locate his custom orthopaedic inserts he asked me to grab too.

I take the extra mail to my office to sort out. In the familiar closed quarters where I’d spent too much time in the last year rolling through a hundred phases, my feelings edge out of me. I try to wipe the tears and continue on but I end up pathetically sat over on the chair crying until I can barely breathe.

It’s pathetic because this is the first space I’ve felt I had the space to cry. And it was where I worked. Where, apparently, I wouldn’t even be missed.

New tears. Less breaths.

“Get it the fuck together,” I say between gasps. “That’s. Enough.”

Through my own self-talk I manage to calm down enough to finish the work. It’s half past 8 by the time I get back to the main living area. I get water to rehydrate myself and stay sitting on the couch staring into space for another ten minutes. I don’t think I had any more tears to cry. Just a rock in place of my heart and another bigger one attached to my ankle.

“Okay,” I finally get the courage to head home.

The end isn’t big and explosive. It’s a simple statement: I think we both know what needs to be done now.

I don’t fight him this time. I have no fight left in me. I just nod.

“I’ll sleep on the couch and still drop you off tomorrow,” he reassures me.

“Just sleep in bed,” I couldn’t even muster enough energy for expression. My flat tone is how I felt. “You don’t fit on the couch. And I’ll get myself to the airport.”

“No I’ll take you. I’ve already made the arrangements-“

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore Gray,” I say. He looks crestfallen and it irks me that he does. I didn’t want him to be sad, it was ridiculous but it was.

“Well I’ll take you anyway.” He says then turns back to the TV.

I wash the day off and make sure everything is packed for my early flight tomorrow. As I lay in bed alone I realize this might be the last time I ever sleep here. Like this. I would have to move all my shit out. Oh god, the wedding. I’d have to cancel my dress shopping dates and the cake testing, the invites we were still designing.

We’d only told our friends it was going to be a winter wedding, I’m glad we never gave them a date. Nobody had marked their calendars. Nothing about us would been permanent.

I look down at the simple ring on my hand. Everything but that.

I keep it on.

I’m still awake when Gray comes to bed but I pretend to sleep. My mind can’t stop making lists to answer: what now.

I’m in a fugue state all night and the only thing that clears the fog is the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds in the morning. I hadn’t slept a wink.

Quiet, so I don’t wake Gray, I get up and dressed. I order a taxi and try not to linger on the hurt of doing this alone. Of Gray waking up to an empty bed.

The flight to Madrid is a couple hours and I miraculously nap through it. Everyone is happy to see me when I get back, especially when I present them with snacks they’d all said they missed from home while we were on tour. With them in hand, I’m an angel in their eyes.

I hand Harry his mail and he stops me. His eyes don’t stop examining my face.

“What happened to your hand?” He asks.

I’d picked up a bandaging kit and ice pack at the airport and with the help of Youtube, wrapped it up. It had started to bruise even worse but I couldn’t be arsed to deal with it even though it hurt. Nothing a few painkillers couldn’t fix.

“I accidentally got it caught in a door,” I lie easily. I had practiced. “It’s nothing.”

“Did you get it checked?”

“No.”

“Make sure you do, tonight’s show.”

“Sure. It’s really nothing though.”

“You sure?” He asks. His gaze is unnerving.

“Mhm,” I nod.

He’s silent, eyes scanning my face. Right as I decide I couldn’t take the scrutiny he asks, “Why were you crying last night?”

I stare, unsure what kind of trick he was playing.

“Sorry.” He laughs to himself. “I have one of those uh, motion sensor cameras in the entryway. I turn it on while I’m away so it sends like, automatic clips if there’s movement. I saw you come in and leave.”

“Oh.” Shit. Think fast. Think fast. “I uhm, got into it with some friends I had a meal with. Y’know…they were being a bit icy cuz of what they’ve heard. I’m over it though.”

“Yeah?” His eyes flicker down to my hand.

“Yeah.” I hold his green eyes for a moment, to reassure him I’m okay. I don’t know why he cares, maybe because I looked like a right mess last night as I left. How embarrassing. But I do my best acting job ever.

Satisfied, he lets me go. I return to the group asking for updates and any stories they wanted to share. Before long I’m laughing along and creeping out of my depressed mood. But something heavier still lingers.

***

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77

[candiid-caniine]

Hey! Long time no see, i know i said id send you a fantasy i thought you'd like but now ive forgotten almost all of it, oop!

Life happened, and uh, i saw that you mentioned your libido being a bit low, which definitely is my case too (im recovering from depression, now that im okay id love to get my FULL libido back, or at least a good percentage of it) do you have any tips on that?

Also any recs of blogs writing in the same vibe as you? (same-ish kinks would be nice but im specifically looking for queer inclusive stuff!) it makes me 10x hornier than the regular video/photo porn!

Hope you're well, you pathetic little thing!

💫

hi friend!! ugh i feel you. sorry i haven't got any advice on regaining ur libido...we just let mine wax and wane as it will, though denial has been a big help in keeping it steady!

i've heard good things abt ginseng and some other herbs. obvs use at your own risk, mind that some herbal treatments can cross-interact with certain medications, remember that pre-packaged supplement pills are often unregulated and may contain toxins, and be aware that some herbal remedies work better on pw certain anatomy than others, and finally that many herbal remedies considered to increase libido are largely untested on trans folx!

finally, sorry it's taken so long to answer this ask...i'm autistic and have been cataloguing lol. i present to you a list of other blog recs under the cut, organized by general vibe! i've tried to primarily include blogs that do their own posts rather than those who primarily reblog :)

note that my headings may provide some context as to what to expect, but you read at your own risk and each blog will typically have its own trigger warnings addressed in the header/pinned. additionally, i've not tagged some of the ppl below because they prefer that "Men DNI" blogs not interact, and idk if "no cis men" qualifies ahah!

all blogs below are queer- and/or trans-inclusive, if not exclusive! there is no detrans/misgendering, at least I don't think - i don't tend to follow those blogs.

hard kinks (blood, knives, etc; includes primarily-cnc blogs):

@puppy-mommy , who also does general t4t kink content, but does state untagged hard kinks!

@visciousest is someone whose blog i scroll when i'm in a Certain Mood ahah,, i won't elaborate

@hell-hound-bites: just. fuck. would drool on his knife blade.

@snuff-fag: its username should give you fair warning as to how wild its content tends to get, so please browse responsibly.

@condor-bait is taking a break right now, and all my love is with him as he takes care of himself. he made me feel so valid and so fuckable as a young trans person learning to love myself in a new way, and i've always been too shy to tell him how much his content meant to me one-on-one (yes, despite its often-extreme themes!), and he deserves as much time as he needs to heal!

@unwillingfvckpuppy for mostly cnc and medical kinks! if you like his style, but not so much their harder content, he also has a more-tame main blog--i just mainly follow/scroll this one!

@vampvictim: top-tier cnc/intox stuff, plus some great knife/bloodplay :)

@cryptidtid is wonderful and holy shit i follow a lot of hard kink blogs lol. incredible

@cnc-pet: i have been following her for a long ass fucking time lol. they post a lot of really good cnc and stories, but you'll also find a lot of aftercare tips and advice on her blog! i really admire blogs who try to balance horny content with best practices

@dollobotomy

general kinky content:

@excessively-queer . just plain old good shit :) there's a good amt of edging and degradation.

@clouded-king was honestly one of my earlier introductions to the queer/t4t kink community on here and how fucking euphoric it can be :) he posts some hard kinks, but generally it's a balance of a lot of different kinks so read his pinned at your leisure!

@ / cottontailx : just good kinky nsft posts :)

@ / digitalpenetration: often specifically t4t which i love!!

@femmelovefemme can step on me :)

@bigothteddies: could not build this section w/o mentioning him :) they had a big influence on my fantasies for a long time!

@hazelj-xoxo: bigtime want her to cuck me. have followed her across multiple blog deletions lol

@transpidered is forever an icon!

@subspaceemo

@writefinch for great stories and text posts

edging and denial, specifically:

@6irlpet is 1 of my go-to hands-down-pants scroll sessions :)

@droolkink is my inspiration!

@flustersluts does exactly what the name implies lol. a good helping of other kink content too :)

@puppycvnt is a 10/10!

@barkwoofbarkwoofbark: we r denial friends imo!!

@strawbrrysub

@blyssful-abyss

@urhighnessbitch is a big fav <3

non-detrans genderplay:

@butchviolence does amazing butch supremacy stuff and i,,, fucking hell. even just seeing their username puts me in a Particular state of mind ahah. they also post hard kinks so be aware as you proceed!

@mtfdomme: i literally just reblogged from her today lol. tbh i want to be their little stupid pupthing. it's not all transfem supremacy undertones/overtones, but that's what i mainly follow her for, plus just general t4t goodness! also, their general personality? and the way she shuts down people who disrespect their boundaries? huge inspiration for me!

@cuntboydestroyer: take me to the animal shelter and neuter me. good lord.

@the-kind-of-dame is the main inspiration for my recent genderplay post lol

@terfbreaking-tgirl (be warned of dykebreaking if that's an issue for you)

@barbarian-lesbian is my other inspiration for the recent genderplay post

@superiorineveryway

weird asf (/complimentary; my favorite type of shit. robots, ND-focused posts, etc):

@specksizedgoddess has introduced me to things i didn't know, like...existed, and that's saying a lot as one of my special interests is kink! never knew how down bad i was to be a tiny buggirl, nor how much i wanted to be someone's stupid little robot... BIG tw tho: there is snuff and gore content here, so proceed with caution if you don't wanna see that!

@sapphling fucked me up real good with some bird!sub bondage posts awhile back lol

@nobelisha: found them through their ghost cnc post so that's why they're in this category ahah! they don't have a pinned so proceed w awareness :)

@devout-cleric: hierophilia/religion kink, and i'm something of an acolyte of hers :) if you've read this far down you may as well know i'm her Little Lamb anon lol

piss/omo:

@latenightomo

@pissheartmybeloved - their URL makes me crack up every time, plus good content!

@hold-it-a-little-longer - good scenarios/imagines!

@ohmyrashi - (i think) my original intro to omo!

monsterfucking/terato:

@septimus-moonlight was my first real introduction to trans-positive terato and i've never settled for half-fun cis-oriented terato ever since :) mind tags!

@eggedbellies as well!

@bredpun doesn't appear to be active lately but still good for a scroll!

@steamandcream

@of-mutts-and-men

[kaveuh]

*breaks into your house* so ive been thinking about this for a while.... a headcanon of knights reacting to their s/o trying their knights idol uniform... 👁

"YOU LOOK BETTER IN IT." knights

author’s note — as your local knightsP, i had a whole blast with this and may have gotten carried away.. oops 🤭 also ritsu’s isn’t really him walking in on the reader trying it on, but he still walks in on them wearing it saur…. AND I HAD A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THIS HAHDHSHFHF

genre — fluff

warning(s) — slight ooc izumi, only a lil… mentions of bathing together (sfw only!!)

TSUKASA SUOU

you were bored. incredibly bored. it's even worst that your boyfriend wasn't there to keep you company.

it wasn't rare for tsukasa to be away during the weekends. being an idol meant having a busy schedule, let alone a whole leader of a unit that belongs in the big three.

"kasa… i miss tsukasa…" you complained for the nth time today. all you did was nothing but lay down on the couch yearning for your darling boyfriend. though, it would be sad to say that you're supposed to be used to this, you should be… you just wanted this day to be over with and cuddle up against your lover in bed.

which is why you found yourself digging into his closet and carefully slipped into his spare knights uniform. it was a bit loose, but you were content with it. besides, despite how it looks, it was comfortable enough to pass as your tsukasa's warmth. unfortunately, it was nothing compared to your lover himself.

which is why it was a surprise when your red-haired, busy boyfriend walked in on you running around the kitchen wearing his uniform. (he almost passed out on the spot)

"[n-name]?" he choked, trying not to lose it. you, on the other hand froze and slowly turned your head towards him. "i'm… home?" tsukasa smiled, sweating and was on the verge on freaking out— you could tell from how red his face was.

"kasa? you're home early…" you laugh nervously, putting down the glass of orange juice that you were drinking. "um, i can explain." tsukasa shakes his head frantically, quickly approaching you, (he teleported) putting his hands on your shoulder with a still, visible blush on his face.

"no, no! please keep it on… i-it looks good on you."

LEO TSUKINAGA

now, leo was the one who suggested that you try on his uniform. although you'd always refuse, explaining that it's embarrassing, you did end up trying it on to imitate your boyfriend whenever he isn't around. (or you wear it simply because you miss him. not that you’d admit it to him, though.)

leo never found out, or so, he was just too oblivious to the fact that his clothes were hanged differently than last time. (he was also too busy composing songs and showing them off to you.)

unlike tsukasa, leo leaves work a bit earlier, and would be home at 10 the latest. though, your boyfriend decided it would be a good idea to surprise you by pretending to leave for work, but would come back to hopefully, catch you off guard.

you, on the other hand, felt like making fun of your boyfriend today (again & affectionately.) like how it had become a daily routine, you slipped into his uniform’s jacket and faced the mirror. "huh… now that i look closely, i do look good in this." you hummed in approval.

"yeah, you do." jumping in surprise, leo stood by the door, grinning from ear to ear as he happily hopped his way towards you. "my dear darling, [name]! how could you try this on without letting me know?! GAH! you look so gorgeous, pretty, cute, adorable, elegant, mesmerizing, irre—" you shushed your enthusiastic boyfriend, embarrassment building up from the compliments.

"s-stop that! you're too loud… i thought you had work?" you sigh, avoiding his gaze as you attempted to hide your reddened face from him.

he laughed, cupping your face with both his hands, gently making you look at him. "what? getting all shy now? don’t be, [name]~ keep it on, i want to see you wearing my clothes for the day!"

ARASHI NARUKAMI

wearing arashi’s clothes was something you'd usually do whenever you're staying home or sleeping. it's become a daily thing, and honestly, arashi loves it! she'll never get tired of cooing about how adorable you look and showing you off to her unitmates whenever you send a picture of you wearing her clothes. which are usually too big for you.

even so, it’s not that hard to get shy around your girlfriend. consider how she showers you with compliments and is very affectionate. not that you’re complaining.

arashi had informed you that she was going to be home a bit late for tonight. of course, you were understanding, willing to wait before you sleep. you had already done your skincare routine, ate dinner (you made sure to leave some in the microwave for arashi) and was ready for bed.

this time, instead of regular clothes, you decided to wear arashi's knights jacket. it wasn't too uncomfortable, and was comfortable enough to be able to cuddle up to as long as it was paired up with a soft blanket.

yawning as you waited for your water to boil, you heard the door open. assuming that your girlfriend was home, you peeked your head into the living room, arashi noticing your figure instantly. her face instantly brightened and hurriedly jogged towards you.

"good evening, darling! i'm sorry for coming home so late tonight, i bet you're already sleepy. ah, are you making ramen? do—" she paused suddenly, causing you to look up at her, confused. "arashi, are you okay?" your question made arashi come back to her senses, her face slowly flushing red.

"ah, my bad. is that my uniform you're wearing?" she giggles, pulling away to get a better sight of how adorable you looked. "can you do a little twirl for me? wait, i wanna take a picture, you look so cute~! you think you can wear this on our next concert? ahh, i'm about to burst!"

IZUMI SENA

izumi acts like he doesn't care whenever you wear something that belongs to him. i mean, you're a couple, right? it's only normal for his partner to wear his clothes. though, everyone and their grandma knows that he secretly giggles to himself behind closed doors.

"have fun at work today, zumi." you bid your boyfriend, giving him a peck on the lips. you swore you saw small smile on his face before it fades back to his usual frown. "don't overwork yourself. i love you~" izumi hummed, staying still for a moment before pulling you into a hug.

"mhm.. i love you too. i'll see you when i get home. text me when you're going somewhere." he reminded, before pulling away and left the house. izumi wasn’t normally an affectionate person, so it most definitely surprised you.

you didn't think much of it, and proceeded to do whatever you needed to do. it was your day off, after all. going into the bathroom was the first thing you did. a relaxing, nice bath would be nice. though, noticing the blue knights jacket, an idea eventually popped inside your head.

"[name]? i forgot my coat. is it in—…" the loud voice of your lover eventually turned quiet. he blinks, keeping his eyes on you as you turned around, returning the action. "there…"

he gulped, a blush creeping up to face, but soon covered it up with a cocky smirk. "the hell? did ya' miss me that much already?"

you felt your eye twitch, frantically shaking your head. "h-hell no! i just needed something to cover myself with…" you huffed, playfully glaring at your boyfriend as you saw his smirk turn into a grin. "stop looking at me like that. it's creepy."

izumi snickers, engulfing you into a hug from behind. "haha, i knew you couldn't go on a day without me. and i can't help it, you're irritatingly cute face is making me wanna keep annoying you." perhaps, ditching shooting today wouldn't be a bad idea. it's just one day, right?

RITSU SAKUMA

compared to the others, ritsu is the one who goes home the earliest. usually, he'd find you waiting for him on the couch or eating at the dinner table whenever you were too hungry to even wait for him.

tonight was a fairly stressful day for him. with izumi'a constant yelling and bossing him around, he wasn't able to take a nap once the whole entire day. if there was anything he wanted to do, that was dragging you to bed with him and sleep until the next day.

"i'm home." ritsu yawns, rubbing his eye while he was greeted with silence. strange, he thought. assuming that you were probably in the kitchen, having your own little concert (that he had walked in on multiple times), he was once again greeted with nothing by still somewhat, heated leftovers on the table.

he did end up eating the leftovers— there was no way he was going to let your cooking and efforts go to waste. ritsu finally entered your shared room, which was dark and your soft snores was the only sound that occupied the room.

"ah… they fell asleep without me." ritsu pouts playfully, and was about to head into the bathroom to get ready for bed until he noticed the familiar jacket that you were wearing. is that my uniform? he didn’t even realize the smile that crept up his face until he leaned in closer to admire you. "[name]~ wake up…" he poked your cheek continuously until you finally stirred in your sleep, slowly gaining consciousness.

you groaned, ruffling your boyfriend's hair. "hm? you're home, ritsu… i fell asleep without you, i was too tired…" you explained, which he hummed in acknowledgment. "what's up? did you wanna bath together again?" ritsu shakes his head, motioning for you to sit up, and so you did.

"you're so cute…" he coos, pinching your cheeks as he took out his phone to take a quick picture, catching you by surprise. "hehe, you should really wear my uniform more often. it looks better on you than it does on me."

[orangeocelotmartyn]

Martyn talks a bit more about the Imp and Skizz podcast (which he’ll be on June 16) including a lovely message Skizz sent him afterwards. Transcript under the cut!

Martyn: But yeah, I got a really nice message from, uh, Skizz earlier on today about the podcast. Um, he just sent a message saying, "Hey, I'm editing part one right now, just wanted to say thanks for being so incredibly authentic. This episode's gonna be well recieved as people learn about the real you, it's extremely interesting." So...yeah. 

There was a few times I gave answers and they were both kinda sat there...almost like, they almost looked somewhat surprised, or stunned, I dont know, that I was speaking so (laughs), so, I don't know, so blatantly. And I was a bit like, "ooh, is that too much?" (laughs), I was just like, "oop." 

And earlier in the podcast as well—so please forgive me when you watch it—ah, there was a few times in, uh, like, the first hour, where I kept kinda like, chipping in, or chiming in, and kinda like, speaking over them? And it wasn't intentional, it was more—there was a very slight delay on the, um, on the feed between the two of us—and also as well, sometimes, like, their sentence, or what they were saying, felt like the tone of their voice was like indicating the end of their statement, but then they would say something else, and I'd be like, "oop-ah-I'm so—sorry, sorry." (laughs)

So yeah, that, that happened a little bit. But that's not just me completely ignoring their saying, it was just me, um, navigating—like, learning how they speak, as well as—y'know, the lag as well.

"Got a long plane ride coming up so it sounds interesting," yeah—the thing—the thing that I said to them as well, I said like, I think the reason I did speak openly and honestly about it is, one, because of my recent therapy, but also because I find those two incredibly authentic. Like, you know, Impulse is very open, about talking about, like, how much he second guesses himself, and things like that, and then Skizz is—you know—very much like, I think Skizz is kinda like the person I've become, or am becoming, where it's—there's a lot of, kinda, self love, and kinda unapologeticness with stuff like that. 

Um, so I think speaking to both of them meant that I felt as though I'm literally in a limbo between their two personality types which is why it felt so easy to speak about those things, is because I feel though they've both experienced it, or are currently experiencing those things. Um, and I was saying to them, like, whenever I watch their podcast and they talk about stuff—like, they do a lot of, kinda like, sorta like pushing for people to help themselves kinda thing. But I was saying to them that, like, it always genuinely feels really authentic, and doesn't feel...it doesn't feel preachy, or—they're not trying to shift some course, or some pyramid scheme thing, its—they've just both got some good life experience behind them and they've had time to learn lessons and stuff, and I was just like, yeah, like, this feels like a space where they will-they will pick up what I put down, y'know what I mean.

Um, it was really good. I said to them towards the end I was like, this was like—I think is it the word cathartic? I think I said that, I dunno if that's the right word, but for me I was like, oh that felt really good. That felt great for me.

[bomberqueen17]

where tf did i leave off

girl (nonspecific, just used here as an interjection, i know there are several of you reading this) i know it's been a lot and like shit got so hectic i updated that i had a backsplash and then nothing but listen i've been unpacking stuff into my

NEW KITCHEN

which is fully operational and move-in ready it's just missing the door to one cabinet and a bunch of little pieces of trim and whatnot but

FEAR NOT

i will give you the scoop once i can figure out where i left off in the updates.

Image description: Picking up where we left off, here's the north wall looking east from the kitchen door, this time with the spacers removed from between the white tiles. The countertop is still covered with cardboard. You can see the underside of the cabinets a bit. The outlet has no faceplate on it.

Max mixed up a batch of grout and set to grouting the tiles, now that the adhesive or mortar or whatever had cured overnight. Jim, meanwhile, installed the dishwasher to be ready for the plumber, and installed the vent hood.

[image description: Two men are facing away from the camera, lifting a stainless steel vent hood up to hook it onto the screws it mounts to in a tiled wall.]

He also used a sheet of paper to cut out a template so he could cut the odd-sized piece of trim wood to cover the bay windowsill. "I got a whole roll of paper," he said, "but I only got one piece of wood." "Measure once, cut three times," Max interjected.

[Image description: Two men in a kitchen. The one on the left is standing on a stepstool to smear gray grout over the white tiled wall. On the right, the other man is bent over the countertop, with the offcuts of brown kraft paper curling away as he trims it with a utility knife.]

Finally the plumber rolled in-- Kyle, who'd been here before. He'd said he'd come Monday, but on Thursday when Jim called to confirm, he said he could push it up and come Friday instead. Which was huge, because it meant a working stove and working sink and working dishwasher and really, working kitchen, really really.

Jim bartered for a part from him, to hook the stove up-- he had one of Kyle's tools, left behind on an earlier job. Kyle was like ha I don't actually need it back I bought a replacement BUT i will give you the nipple you need anyway. (Yes! It was a nipple. That's a pipe fitting thing and I get a gold star for not giggling.)

So while Kyle was in the basement, hooking up my dryer and repairing my laundry sink (I had arranged to pay him separately for that, as neither thing were part of the kitchen job, and he figured he'd do those first so his boss would have a chance to send an invoice so I could pay him before he left, much easier all around), Jim and Max installed the stove and got it painstakingly leveled.

[Image description: a stove is pulled out somewhat from the surrounding counter. To the left a man is kneeling next to it; the other man stands to the right, leaning over to peer at a bubble level.]

They did a really thorough job on this, which involved pulling out that lower drawer so Jim could reach under to the rear adjustable feet with a wrench to fine-tune the position once the stove was shoved into place.

"Aw," I said, "now I gotta find the owner's manual to find out how to set the clock on this stove again," and Max wordlessly tilted his head, looked at the control panel, unerringly punched the button with a picture of a clock on it, and said "what time is it?" so I told him, he punched it in. "Kids," Jim laughed, and I said "so good with technology." Finished, Max hit the clock button again, and erased his work. "Oops," he said, repeated the process, and this time hit the "Start/OK" button at the end, which worked and actually entered the time.

Then the real excitement began, because Kyle finished mucking around in the basement and came up and put together the sink. Max, having now attached all of my cabinet door and drawer handles, had now mostly run out of work to do by then so he leaned on things and watched kyle work, which was also what I was doing, LOL.

But the moment of excitement came very soon.

[image description: two men standing by a kitchen counter. On the left, Kyle the plumber is staring down into the sink as the water runs. On the right, Max is leaning on the counter next to the stove, watching.]

No leaks! Hooked up! So exciting. He then ran a quick cycle on the dishwasher to make sure it didn't leak either, and lo and behold it did not.

Meanwhile Max lit the stove and ran it until the air was out of the line.

Literally, now we're cooking with gas.

So, everyone was done and wrapped up before 3pm on Friday afternoon, and they all left in high spirits. Jim will be back to put on the final cabinet door (they made it wrong! the custom cabinet people fucked up my door! I never knew because Jim had already sent it back) and all the crown molding, and a couple of other little details. He might come Monday but if the pieces aren't ready for him then he won't come until they are. In the meantime, I can use the kitchen to my heart's desire.

He gave me back my house key, since we were moving back into the house over the weekend, so I'd be present.

[image description: a kitchen! an actual kitchen, with grayish-blue cabinets, a white tiled wall, a dishwasher and a stove, a vent hood over the stove, and a hideous yellow flowered folding stool pulled up to the counter to be a makeshift chair. The knife block is on the counter, and the Instant Pot is sitting by the sink, and various other items are strewn around the counters. The floor is mottled gray and has a geometric blue and white mat in front of the sink.]

The first thing I did was put all my grungy old unwashable dishwares into the dishwasher to see if it melted them, hence my post on this topic. (Update: Nothing so far has actually gotten ruined! Amazing.)

But the second thing was that we went back over to dude's mom's to retrieve our cat. <3 <3 <3 and then i got to sleep in my own bed with my beloved cat.

[doctorbunny]

Translating the animator notes from Amane's storyboard gif

Oops I did this yesterday and only just remembered to post it 😅 putting it under the cut for people who dont want storyboard spoilers (also note I haven't seen the one minute teaser so some of this mightve been more accurate if I knew what the finished animation looked like)

[Image ID: Amane walks into a room, looks at some posters and then turns around to see an adult who takes out a taser and turns it on] Normally I try to do alt text for images but I'll put this here at the top instead so I can be quicker, sorry there's a lot of these Also note some of this is like... meant for animators which is where some of the confusion comes in because they might use niche industry terms that I wouldn't know on account of not being a storyboarder

くもり空 = cloudy/overcast sky ハリコミ = ambush, notably pointing to the three green posters behind Amane, suggesting they were set there so she'd look at them かべ = wall アマネ = Amane ドア = door Aセル キャラのカゲつけ 逆光でお願いします = Cell A, please make sure the character is shaded with the light coming from behind them

アパート コンクリ壁 = Concrete apartment wall 次はC上① なります = Move cell C ① up

Bセルクミ - Animation cell B group(? probably something that means something to other animators) C上セルは- (gets covered up by an earlier note but its also just about like shading or something)

隼クミ = Falcon class/group (Kumi/組 often refers to a class like, Class 3-E = 3-E組, So this could refer to an elementary or cult school class in-universe having a bird themed naming system or maybe the animators have one, after all there was a 組 for animation cell B) 映ってないですが 右手でドア閉めてます = This isn't reflected as the right hand shuts the door (or maybe like don't animate this in sync with the hand movement)

母親カゲ = Mother's shadow このままIN= Animation comes IN through here

↓このままIN= Animation comes IN through here 母親の手とスタンガン = Mother's hand with stun gun (taser)

スタンガンエフェクト = Stun gun effect [referring to the electricity animation]

Anyway I accidentally posted this early so I hope it shows up in the tags still....

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Sacrifices in Avoidance of Heartbreak - Leila Ouahabi x Reader

A/n: so i wanted to post a Leila fic on Leila's birthday but I ran out of time so it's a belated post... oops.

///

Leaving Barcelona wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you felt like you had to. Your teammates and friends, including your best friend were under the assumption that your contract was ending and you could not get a renewal organised with Barcelona. So you left after Barcelona won the Champions League, following Vicky to Manchester, but instead of going to City, you went to United. A choice that confused everyone, but Ona was happy to have you, the defender eventually finding out the real reason that you left Barcelona one night when you were missing Spain a little too much.

You’d only spent a few seasons at the Spanish club, but you fell in love with Barcelona, and your best friend at that club. But she would never love you back, and hearing about Leila being with someone else was enough for it to feel like your heart was being ripped out of your chest. So, you left, to avoid that heartbreak.

The problem is, avoidance behaviours do not solve the issues going on. The dwindling contact with your former teammates was concerning, and whilst they could see you were okay from your social media and WSL games, you missed Leila, your Barcelona teammates and Spain. The Mancunian weather was a lot to adjust to, and you drove to preserve your Spanish skills, plus it entertained Ona with conversations in Spanish that confused the rest of the team, minus Ivana.

United ended up fourth in the WSL in your first season, and whilst Ona spent her off-season heading back to Spain, your avoidance kicked in, determined to avoid the heartbreak you were still feeling a year later.

It was ridiculous, and you knew it, but you couldn’t handle seeing Leila and knowing you would never be good enough for her to look at you as more than a friend. Your self-sabotage having most likely wrecked the friendships you had with your Barcelona teammates.

“It is always weird when players leave.” Patri reminisced, reflecting on how many players were leaving Barcelona this summer, Leila included.

“They always have a reason, but they will always mean something to us. Contracts or not.” Alexia tried to comfort her teammates, but the group were slowly losing the happiness that the Spanish sun gave them earlier, sunbathing forgotten as Ona made a noise, her eyes closed but also hidden by sunglasses as she spoke.

“Not everyone leaves because of contracts. Y/n came to United to escape heartbreak.” 

“Heartbreak? Who broke their heart?” Mapi frowned, sitting up and exchanging looks with Leila, who had no idea of what Ona was talking about.

“Hmm, Y/n was in love with Leila, I think they still are, but left instead of telling her…” Ona trailed off as she opened her eyes, realising Leila was staring at the ground, playing with her fingers.

“Ona…” Alexia murmured, wondering whether Ona even meant to disclose this information, but it was too late.

“Wait, you guys did not know?”

“Do they know Leila is going to Manchester City?” 

Leila did not hear the response however, her mind drifting to the last few times she had seen you before you left Barcelona.

You’d been drifting away for a little while, being less touchy and affectionate, leaving rooms early and talking less when teaming up with Leila during practice. 

There had always been something that had bothered the defender though, the way you held onto her longer than you held onto anyone else during your goodbye hugs, how your tears seemed to be caused by a deeper reason than leaving Barcelona, especially after something Leila had heard you say before.

You adored Spain, and would not leave unless you had no other choice, even admitting you’d love to settle somewhere there one day, after football. So to find out that you left the place you were in love with, because you fell in love with her, and she was just finding out now? It had been a year, and Ona admitted you were still in love with her?

“What was Y/n like?” Ingrid enquired to Mapi, having been silent for a majority of what was said, since she had never really met you, with the season Ingrid arrived being after you left during the summer.

“The sweetest person…” Leila murmured, getting out her phone to do who knows what, halfway between pressing your contact and calling you when an instagram notification caught her eye. A photo of you offering the camera a peony wasn’t something she expected, but the caption made her smile nonetheless.

‘roses are cliche, so i bought peonies’

“The sweetest?” Ingrid smiled, a knowing look on her face that left Mapi confused, but Leila was busy commenting an emoji on your instagram post.

“Sweet, unselfish, prefers to assist rather than score.”

“That was with Barcelona. With United, they score.” Ona countered Alexia’s point, leaving the midfielder to raise an eyebrow.

Leila’s focus drifted again as she opened her messages, finding her last message to you had been left on read, until the familiar speech bubble appeared. The Spaniard watched as one message finally came through.

‘Te echo de menos.’

You missed Leila. That was all she needed to know as a plan formed in her head for when she left to move to Manchester for the next two seasons.

///

You didn’t mean to hit send on that message, telling Leila you missed her. No doubt she would want to catch up when she arrived in Manchester now. Was that so bad, you asked yourself.

However, there was a slight issue, your still existent feelings for the Spanish defender, feelings that only a chosen few knew about because you were scared and insecure. Scared you’d be judged for leaving a top club because you fell in love, but insecure because you thought that you were not good enough for Leila.

Choosing to ignore your phone for the time being, you began to arrange the peonies you had bought, locating a vase and a spoonful of sugar to help the peonies last longer.

///

Your avoidance meant that after the euros, you didn’t hang out with your teammates outside of the training facility during pre-season. You wouldn’t admit it, not to Ona, not to anyone, but you were afraid Leila would be there. Seeing her again, after all this time… your feelings weren’t gone, your heart ached for her but she had no reason to love you back.

What you were doing wasn’t healthy, but you also uprooted your life from where you were happy in Spain and moved everything to England, and now Leila is here in Manchester too, reminding you of that pain in your chest every time you think of her.

You sacrificed your happiness to try to heal from heartbreak, or avoid it, but you sacrificed your happiness and broke your own heart leaving Leila and Spain behind. 

You thought you had ruined everything as you fiddled with the paper straw in your cup, staring through the cloudy plastic lid to watch the ice cubes swirl around in your drink. An elbow in your side left you grimacing, about to elbow Millie back when she gestured to the scoreboard. You were next up to bowl.

Getting up to select the bowling ball you needed, you went to bowl, grinning and throwing your arms in the air when the ball didn’t go into the gutters and actually hit the pins.

You could hear laughter from your United teammates but you didn’t care, until you realised it wasn’t just your United teammates at the bowling alley. Your face fell, and you could feel how the goosebumps ran over your skin, stomach churning and heart fluttering. Some of Manchester City had joined, at the bowling lane next to where you and your United teammates were located.

Ona approached you, holding her bowling ball to bowl next but she paused, spotting the look on your face, and realising who you were looking at. She was yet to spot you, but Leila was in your close proximity for the first time in months.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t feel well. Could you bring my stuff to the toilets please? I’m going to go there then head home.” You explained, barely getting a concerned nod from the Spaniard before you were hurrying to the toilets, not realising that your speed walking caught another Spaniard’s attention.

Staring into the mirror in the toilets after exiting the cubicle, you grimaced as you realised you were sweating, your heart rate not calming down even after splashing water on your face and trying to focus on your breathing.

“I have your things.” Ona announced as she walked into the toilets, holding out your bag to you after you dried your hands with the hand dryer.

“Gracias, Ona. I will see you tomorrow, hopefully…” you swallowed nervously, fiddling with your keys in your hand as you headed towards the door, opening it only to freeze.

Leila smiled softly, but her face fell as you all but scurried away and out of the bowling alley in general, disappearing into the car park and out of sight.

“They hate me.” 

“They love you, but think you would not love them.” Ona replied, sending you a text asking for you to tell her when you were home safely, before taking Leila back to the bowling lanes, explaining that you had felt unwell and gone home, so someone else would take over your turns to bowl.

///

It kept Leila up at night, the look on your face, the pain in your eyes that you didn’t realise she could see. Pain and tears. She found out from Ona that you got home safely, and it was only through persuasion and reminding Ona that she was the reason Leila knew of your feelings that Ona gave her your address, but warned her that if things went south, she would leave you alone.

Leila knew your schedule from when the two of you were at Barcelona, she knew how you functioned before and after training, and before and after games. After anything, you’d shower, make food then fall asleep watching something either in bed or on your couch unless you’d been invited out, in which you’d shower, eat out somewhere or eat before heading out, and crash in your bed after.

Life got busy for a few days, but once Leila had the chance, and she knew you were home, she decided to take the chance and go talk to you. Maybe it was invasive, going to your home after getting the address from Ona, you’d probably kill the young Spaniard but you and Ona had almost a sibling relationship after all this time. You’d get your own back at Ona somehow.

It took longer than expected to find where you lived, tempted to call someone for help since google maps’ directions weren’t the most helpful, but eventually Leila’s hand hovered over the door before spotting the doorbell. A doorbell that she wasn’t sure worked, until the door opened, revealing you wearing an apron over your pyjamas.

You froze the moment the doorbell rang, putting down the wooden spoon and turning down the hob before hurrying over to the door, forgetting to look out the window to check who it was.

“Leila! What, what are you doing here?” Your voice shook slightly, hand tightening on the door handle as the temptation to slam the door in your crush’s face crept into your mind, but you didn’t do it. Instead you let Leila in, leaving her in the hallway as you hurried back to the kitchen to stop your dinner from sticking to the pan.

“Why are you here, Leila?” Your voice thick with sadness, Leila hesitated as she stood at the counter next to you, observing you stirring what she assumed was what you were making for your dinner.

You didn’t hear what Leila said at first, turning your head as she repeated it, but you just hummed, you missed talking in Spanish. You spoke in Spanish to Ona a lot, but the rest of your teammates usually looked confused after.

“We need to talk about what? It’s been months, I don’t see how we have much to talk about-” the wooden spoon fell from your hand into the pot, your fingers clinging to Leila’s zip up hoodie as she pulled you into a hug. She didn’t hold onto you tightly, expecting you to push her away, but your body betrayed you as you leaned into Leila, your face buried in her shoulder as you moved your arms to hug her back.

Only pulling away when your timer went off, signifying that your dinner was done, you couldn’t look Leila in the eye. Your focus stayed with your dinner and trying to get it served whilst still warm, and not make a mess in the process.

“I know why you left Barcelona.”

You hummed, gently tilting the pot to pour your dinner into the bowl you had out, hoping not to spill it but Leila’s lack of subtlety took you by surprise.

“You left because you are in love with me.”

Leila’s eyes widened at the clattering noise of the pot hitting the rim of the bowl, hurrying forwards to help you before you split your dinner on the counter.

“Who, who told you that?” Your lack of denial left Leila’s eyes softening, deciding to try not to get Ona in even more trouble by saying it was the younger Spaniard that told Leila and the others during the off-season.

Shaking her head, Leila sighed, “you left without telling me, you thought I did not love you back?”

Staring at the steam rising from the bowl of food, you let out a sigh in return of Leila’s sigh.

“Sí.”

Leila looked up from where she had been looking at the floor, realising what you had said, what you had finally admitted after leaving Spain so many months ago without really talking to Leila again.

“Idiota.”

“Excuse me?” Raising an eyebrow, you turned to the Spanish defender.

“Idiota.”

“Why am I an idiot? For sacrificing my love of Spain to protect myself against the heartbreak of falling in love with my best friend and her not feeling the same way.” You deadpanned, about to fold your arms but Leila reached out, her hands on your hips.

“Because she feels the same way, idiota.”

“She, you, you what?” You spluttered but Leila shook her head, pulling you towards her so you were within almost kissing distance.

“Te amo, idiota.”

“Yo también te amo, Leila.” Biting your lip, your gaze rested on Leila’s lips, returning to her eyes as she smirked, leaning forwards so her lips met yours, your hands on her shoulders to steady yourself. Dinner going cold and forgotten on the counter.

/// hopefully some accurate translations ///

Te echo de menos - i miss you

Gracias - thank you

Sí - yes

Idiota - idiot

Te amo - i love you

Yo también te amo - i love you too

[floofysmallbob]

oops forgot about him just like his dad forgot about his other kids

I was kinda busy drawing lesbians(well, sapphics, not lesbians) and realizing the wonder that is traditional art after not having drawn with pencil and paper for so long, and I had started on him before I even started posting these, so I didn’t have to do much work and therefore forgot. Either way, enough rambling, here’s Dual Element Hero: Shoto

I was going to change his name, but while searching for potential names, someone said that ‘Shoto’ is sort of representative of the fact that especially in the earlier seasons, his whole thing is that he wants to be his own person

as well, a hero name would have been something like ‘frostfire’, which kind of reduced him to his quirk, and uh, now remembering that he was conceived solely for his quirk, seemed like it maybe wasn’t a good idea

now onto the actual design

middle part

he’s described a lot as a ‘pretty boy’, so I decided to go with a k-pop idol vibe for his hair.

slightly more ‘drippy’ scar

i mean the water wouldn’t just have stayed in one place right?

I originally considered going all in on the asymmetric vibe and had it with one long sleeve and one sleeveless but it looked a lil wonky and I don’t think he would really go for that

so instead I made the accents warmer/cooler

his cold side has grey accents on the collar and wrist while his hot(not like that you fucking simps) side has gray accents

yes grey is cool toned and gray is warm toned fight me

that vest was bulky as hell so the suit has heating/cooling technology implanted in the fabric

manual control panels on either side of his pants and jacket

same usual shoulder/elbow/knee pads

same gauntlets as canon but w/ out the weird brick red ish color

please forgive me I claim to be an artist yet cannot identify a simple color

little things on his shoulders that function the same as the gauntlets, except they have no purpose, they just release flames and freezing air bc it looks cool

his managing team definitely had that added for popularity

got rid of the bulky ass belt for a more simple utility belt(? idk what it is)

added leg pouch(?) for additional storage

boots are the same functionally as canon, but they also make it easier to burn footholds into surfaces

COLD WEATHER VERSION:

darker material

thicker material

lined boots

taller collar

meant to give him full gloves so just… imagine

WARM WEATHER VERSION:

sleeveless tank

can it be called a tank

ig it’s more like a vest bc it’s a zip up and not a shirt

white gloves

yeah

sorry for running my mouth lol

as always, tips and advice are appreciated!

[bestworstcase]

I urgh, made a reblog earlier on your post about The Shallow Sea, asked a question there which you might have seen and then accidentally deleted it (oops!)

Anyway I wanted to ask do you think the fanus’s struggle for equality will be involved somehow in salem’s villian-to-hero arc? Because fanus and salem (and grimm) are just so heavily connected. She actually had a very great chance with sienna but unfortunately adam killed her.

And also if you could elaborate this salem being the god of animals thing, did she actually created fanus or it’s more about symbolic connection?

An additional note which’s just something I found very interesting. In the opening of v6, adam appears as the leader of white fang while the song goes ‘the river knows to reach the sea’. Besides the chronological order goes cinder-adam-the rest of salem’s force. (Added that rising is a salem song)

oh i. i think about salem and the faunus and grimm only a normal amount. there's more that i've written on the topic than that (among others, i have a relevant post about tyrian and his worship of salem somewhere but i cannot for the life of me find it) but tumblr, u know. 

not directly faunus related but the god of choice post is salient because rwby handles divinity in a very polytheist way, and while the recent alchemy post was just for fun it does also lay out the thematically essential death/resurrection element of salem's immortality with more clarity. 

(my other mythology tin hat is that salem was the original inspiration for 'the warrior in the woods') (<- tangent). 

TL;DR: i think she is the literal, though possibly indirect, creator of the faunus (through her combination of human + grimm into own being; the faunus descend from this harmony of opposites in some way) and that at some point in history, she belonged to faunus civilization and the mythical figure of the 'god of animals' arose through a combination of worship of salem herself + stories she told about the brothers in relation to her transformations.

(notice that the god of animals in 'the shallow sea' resembles darkness in character, and the one in 'the judgment of faunus' resembles light, but both versions are also unrecognizable as the brothers because they interact with their chosen people in a reciprocal manner—faunus choose to be changed in both stories. where ozma uses myth to guide humans toward what his god wants them to be, salem used myth to uphold her idea of what the brothers should have been and what kind of gods deserve reverence.)

the narrative has not ever been shy about making symbolic connections between the faunus and the grimm—like, blake reveals her ears for the first time whilst gazing at and identifying herself with the beowolf trampled underfoot by human huntsmen in beacon's statue. the white fang wear grimm masks because "humans wanted to make monsters of us, so we chose to don the faces of monsters." qrow in the faunus WOR episode more or less explicitly describes faunus as in-between humans and grimm.  

(<- which is not necessarily accurate because qrow's narration is chock full of obvious subconscious bias—to the point of straight up saying "honestly, it's not too hard to sympathize" with the perspectives of humans who hunted down the faunus like animals because "seeing something that looks like you and acts like you walk out of a forest and reveal a pair of fangs can be… upsetting" and in no way are we meant to take that as an objective statement; in V1 weiss is unambiguously portrayed as the one in the wrong for hating faunus on the grounds that the white fang is at war with her family's company, a reason that is a lot less shaky than "fangs are upsetting" and yet is (properly) framed as irrational and bigoted.

but qrow's perspective is meant to reveal cultural attitudes, not objective facts, and his overt placement of faunus between humans and grimm is interesting in the context of everything else the narrative does to draw a connection between faunus and grimm)

salem is "your grace" to her followers and ghira is "your grace" as the chieftain of kuo kuana, implying that salem might outright self-identify as a faunus. she wants to secure  sienna khan's alliance (<- a genuine activist) and drops adam (<- a terrorist) like a hot potato after he murders her, she explicitly has no plans to attack menagerie, and menagerie doesn't… seem to have a grimm problem… like at all. zero grimm attacks in kuo kuana across two volumes there and not a single character in menagerie mentions them as a problem.

so rwby is not exactly being subtle. 

generally, i do not think the heavy emphasis put on the white fang arc was solely being overambitious about doing a Racism Subplot; i don't think it's coincidental that the narrative completed the white fang arc and then immediately launched the "salem backstory" arc with the lost fable. the white fang arc sets up for the lost fable and salem's arc is inextricable from the faunus-persecution narrative because she, in every way that matters, IS a faunus herself.

and i think that is very much going to eventuate in V10+ yeah. it's already beginning to—the affirmation of jabber's personhood and overt sympathy afforded to neo and the cat, in tandem with blake's arc in V9 being toward vocally embracing and taking pride in being a faunus as the culmination of her journey out of shame in V1-6 and quiet figuring-herself-out in V7-8, points strongly in that direction. 

[johaerys-writes]

8, 25 and 26 for disasters plz? 🫶🏼

8. Did you cut something out of the outline or an early draft? What was it and why did you decide to cut it?

I think that Disasters is actually among the neatest fics I've written, in that as soon as I had an outline I didn’t really deviate too much from it. But there was this scene that I had outlined towards the end: I had planned their making up after their Big post-drunken makeout sesh Fight in Ch.21 to be a lot different than it ended up being. So the plan was for Achilles to confront Pat after he learns about Chryseis, kiss him, Pat pushes him away and Achilles kisses him again and then they have angry steamy sex about it before making up the next day. These are my actual notes:

(notice the chapter count which is also WAY off the mark 😂 the previous chapters just kept growing oops)

I tried really hard to keep to that (because it's hot as hell haha) but it just didn't feel right. The dialogue ended up being all wrong because of their fight earlier that day at the park which sort of covered some of that, with Achilles feeling betrayed and thinking that Pat is playing games instead. They'd both been hurt too much by their earlier shenanigans, and also Pat had pushed Achilles away one too many times for him to be this forward with him now. I felt like they needed to clear the air first a little before jumping into bed with each other for this time to be Different. So instead of angry sex we had mopey sex lmao but what can you do. They still boned and that's what matters yk!

25. Share your favorite line

That's so hard 😭😭😭 I swear each chapter has a line or passage that I love lol

I chose this one because I consider it to be such an important moment for Pat's character development:

In this house, Thetis had said, you’re the only one that really loves him.

Patroclus hadn't really understood what Thetis had meant then. He’d thought it was just the late-night ramblings of a drunk, heartbroken woman, but he thinks he understands now. What is love, after all, if not to accept one wholeheartedly, to forgive all of their faults? Besides, to love him despite the hurt he's caused him is to love him better still.

Right?

26. Share your favorite detail

Again, so many😭 That Achilles is autistic and genderfluid, and also possibly the worst menace Phthia has ever seen. That gangly, asthmatic, glasses-wearing, straight-A nerd Patroclus is still a valuable basketball player and wins wrestling matches lmao. That Thetis is Pontian! That Peleus is the worst absentee father/business man/mafia boss but we all still love him 😂 I occasionally feel like I have to pat myself on the back because those characterisations are so tasty and perfectly tailored to my very specific preferences 👌

Thank you so much for this ask!!

[fic writer asks]