#he also let him stay/live in his London flat so you know

[cheeseknives]

I wish I could explain how surreal this crossover feels to me but in hindsight makes total sense

[miniseokminnies]

through a different lens — l.sm

❥ pairing: lee seokmin x gn!reader ❥ theme: meet cute, strangers to something ❥ wc: ~3.4k ❥ warnings: fluff, language barrier, mentions of alcohol, author is obviously down bad, author also obviously doesn't live in london (let them live) ❥ a/n: this was supposed to be for valentine's day but kind of turned into a bigger project than i anticipated so it's for seokmin's birthday as well! i really like this one so please let me know what you think!! likes and reblogs appreciated

This wasn’t your scene. Oh God this was not your scene. Your friends always want to go clubbing on Friday nights, and being a good friend you always gave in. However, right about now, when the music was vibrating your skull, being anywhere else sounded amazing. 

“y/n!” the voice of your friend pierced through the noise and brought you back from inside your head, “come take a shot!” she smiled at you. Reluctantly you joined your friends, all drunker than you. Someone shoved the small glass into your hand and you threw it back easily and quickly. The liquid burned all the way down into your stomach, you felt your cheeks flush with heat. 

Eyes wandering toward the exit of the crowded bar, the thought crossed your mind to leave. Looking back toward your friends they were once again engaged in their own conversations, paying little attention to you. They all expect you to slip out early without telling anyone, you always do. 

Cool air bloomed in your lungs and you felt like you could breathe for the first time tonight. The street in front of you was not particularly crowded, the walk home will probably be easy and refreshing. Taking another deep breath of fresh air you began in the direction of your flat. The city used to excite you, but these days you’d rather be home with some tea and a good book. You really wished you had stayed home tonight. 

“Excuse me?” you heard a timid voice cut the silence. You suppressed a groan, you hadn’t even been walking for five minutes. Turning toward the source of the voice you were met with the confused face of a man, “Do you know…a place to eat?” he asked, accompanying the question with an eating motion with his hand. 

“Uh yeah, there’s a great place down the street a ways and around the corner, if you go past Pennie’s you’ve gone way too far,” looking back at the man you could see the concentration on his face as he tried to remember your directions. Feeling bold from the remaining alcohol in your system you took a step closer to him, “I’ll show you, I could go for a bite too” He smiled at you then, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, even in the darkness of the street you swear his teeth were shining. 

“Thank you” he finally said with a bow of his head, breaking your trance and setting your feet in motion. The two of you walked side by side, your arms folded around you, and him clutching his camera. The walk was silent, aside from the man asking to stop to snap pictures a few times. It was odd though, the silence was never once uncomfortable for you, and he made no indication that it was for him either. 

Every so often you glanced up at him, getting a better look at him now that the street was more well lit. You noticed his strong nose first, the way the light settled on his face made him look ethereal. Judging by his amazement for a shitty London street, you knew he was a tourist. Looking back at your feet you smiled to yourself, it was nice to see someone so excited about something you see every day. 

“This is it!” you smile at him as the two of you approach the restaurant. He nods at you, seemingly waiting for you to enter. He trails behind you as you enter the building and inform the staff that you’ll be needing a table for two. Once you were seated you broke the tension, “So…where are you from?” you asked hesitantly. 

“I am from Korea” he spoke slowly, but you saw his eyes light up at your question. Speaking of his eyes, sitting across the table from him you now saw them fully, a warm brown that compliments his tanned skin nicely. There are crinkles at the corners of his eyes, indicating that smile he flashed at you in the street was a normal part of his communication. 

“That’s far,” you remarked, taking a sip of your water, “what brings you here?” 

“Mmm” he thought for a moment, “holiday” he answered simply. You nodded as he looked around the restaurant, “my name is Seokmin” his eyes found yours again. 

“My name is y/n” you exchanged with a small smile. Something about the kindness in his eyes made you squirm under his gaze. When the waiter came around to your table you once again decided to be bold, ordering fish and chips for Seokmin and yourself. If he came all the way from Korea you felt it was your duty to show him London’s best classics. Was it jumping too far to feel like he had met you in the street for a reason? 

“Two beers, please” Seokmin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts once again. He was smiling up at the waiter holding up two fingers. The waiter nodded and headed toward the kitchen. 

“Good call” you smiled at him, hoping to get a better look at his face when he smiles in return. Just your luck, he turned to you beaming. His eyes do crinkle when he smiles. 

The food came quickly, not that you would have minded if it took a little longer than usual. Seokmin has a way of making you feel at ease, even in a social situation that would typically make you incredibly nervous. He did his best keeping up with conversation, you felt terrible about not being able to communicate in his native language. 

Seokmin stared down at his plate, his eyes widening at the amount of food. “Try it, try it” you nearly squealed. You did not even dare to pick up your fork until you knew he liked the food. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand as his delicate fingers picked his fork up from the table. He lifted the bite of fish to his lips and popped it in his mouth. Immediately, he let out a satisfied sound. 

“This is good!” he smiled after he swallowed. You smiled back at him and cut the fish with your fork as well. At some point in the meal, you were completely enthralled in Seokmin. The way he moved interested you even and even though you didn’t know nearly anything about him, somehow you knew you had never met anyone like him. 

Something then made him laugh under his breath. Putting your glass down you gave him a questioning look. Trying not to smile, he gestured with his finger around his mouth. At this, your hand flew to your lips and you flushed with embarrassment as you felt the foam from your beer on your upper lip. 

You could hear him nearly choking on his laugh and your eyes lifted again to meet his. Immediately, he tried to avert his glance, but you could tell he was still stifling his giggles. You felt your cheeks heat up again, and butterflies settle in your stomach. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked in that moment. Pulling out your phone and positioning it so he was in your view finder you remarked, 

“You should see how silly you look trying to hold back your teasing,” his eyes crinkled again at this, butterflies erupted in your stomach, and he threw up a peace sign, inviting you to take the picture. “Look!” you exclaimed, turning your phone so he could see the picture. Seokmin was laughing now, throwing his head back and clapping, the whole thing. You were lucky that in his excitement, he missed the fond look you gave him without even realizing. 

“Do you know your way back to where you’re staying?” you asked earnestly once the two of you had paid and were outside the restaurant. He nodded at you and turned his phone, much like you did earlier, so you could see that he had the address and walking directions pulled up. “Good, now,” you pulled your phone out, “give me your number, I don’t want you getting lost” 

*** 

Your life continued as normal the next day. Waking up, thankful you didn’t drink much the night before, you slipped out of bed toward the kitchen. Clicking on the kettle you think about the night before. Meeting Seokmin almost felt like it was a dream, but you have a photo on your phone to prove it wasn’t. He had also insisted that you send the picture you took, so you do have at least one thread of text conversation.  

You reached for a mug, wishing you were taller, and heard your phone buzz on the counter. Assuming it was one of your friends texting you asking where you disappeared to last night, you continued to make your tea. Then your phone buzzed two more times, none of your friends would be that desperate to talk to you. Once your tea bag was securely in your mug you grabbed your phone. 

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): y/n 

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): the bus

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): ????? 

Your heart skipped a beat realizing he actually texted you. Then, you began laughing realizing what he was asking. 

You: do you need help? 

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): yes 

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): please 

Seokmin (fish n chips guy) sent their location

Oh. Oh. He wanted to meet up again, you nearly spat out your tea seeing the notifications pop in. Checking his location you saw that he is at a bus stop a twenty minute walk away from you. You scrambled to get ready and ran out the door. 

You saw him immediately when you rounded the corner to the stop. He was looking through his pictures on his camera, fully engrossed in his task. He looked up as you approached and moved toward you. 

“y/n” he breathed 

“How may I help” you smiled, giving a dramatic bow. He moved toward you, pulling out his phone. Standing at your side he showed his phone screen, with a bus route pulled up. “oh, easy” you looked up at him, trying not to blush at the sudden closeness, “I take that bus all the time” 

You paid Seokmin’s bus fare, it’s the least you could do after he paid for the dinner you invited yourself to last night. Seokmin dragged you by the sleeve to the back of the bus, which is a place you would normally avoid but seeing how excited he was, you didn’t mind. 

As the bus began to move Seokmin watched out the window, the city zooming by. You watched him watch the window. He looked cute when he was focused. The thick black framed glasses perched on his nose reflected the scenery. Without thinking you pulled out your phone, snapping a picture of him just like last night. Seokmin must have seen you out of the corner of his eye because he turned toward you. 

He raised his camera and watched you through the viewfinder for several moments. You covered your face with your hands in a futile attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. You heard the shutter click a few times and then silence. Removing your hands you look up at him to find he is looking right back at you. Seemingly he became flustered and turned back towards the window. 

You realized halfway through the trip, you weren’t actually sure where you two were going. Sure, you took this route all the time, but you didn’t know where Seokmin wanted to go. The only indication you had that it was time to get off the bus was Seokmin standing up suddenly. It was a stop you never get off at, but you follow him out and onto the street. 

He grabbed his phone and pulled you closer to him by your sleeve. You felt your stomach swoop at the sudden breaking of the flimsy wall between you. Trying to not read too far into his action you glanced at his phone. He had pulled up the walking directions to a nearby thrift shop. 

The walk was not too long, and the two of you passed the time easily. Every so often Seokmin would point something out and tell you the Korean word for it, which in turn you would give him the English word.  His eyes were trained on you so attentively when you spoke it made you almost nervous. 

Rounding the corner you saw the store he was hoping to visit. You may have been here once or twice, but it’s nowhere you frequent. He pulled the door open and held it for you. You smiled at him as a thanks, which earned you a blinding smile in return. Lucky you. 

The two of you strayed away from each other, looking in different sections for a while. You swiped through the selection of shirts in your size, trying not to look around for Seokmin. The fabric in your hands didn’t feel real, you were distracted. You moved around to the rack of pants, which was closer to the set of stairs in the store which led to the music section upstairs. 

You continued to browse through the pants, not really interested. Movement near the stairs made you look up,  Seokmin was looking at the records hanging on the wall. He investigated them on his own for several moments, fully engrossed, before looking around for something, you hoped it was you he was looking for. As if he could read your mind his eyes settled on you from across the room, smiling, he called 

“Jagiya!” As soon as the word rolled off his tongue, his eyes widened and his hand flew to his mouth. He obviously was under the impression he said something he shouldn’t have, if only you knew what it meant, “y/n” he corrected himself after taking a moment to calm down. You left the rack of pants behind almost immediately, 

“Hmm?” you hummed once you were at his side on the stairs. Sleeves of your jackets brushing against each other. Seokmin pointed at the records on the wall, he was obviously excited. “Music lover, hm?” you smiled up at him. 

“Yes” he smiled back, eyes almost closed, “I’m a singer” he added. Seokmin wished you could see your face right now, you looked amazed at the confession, your lips forming a little ‘o’. 

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime” you said before remembering you had no idea how long you would be around each other. However, he just beamed and nodded at you. The two of you wandered around the music store upstairs for a while, Seokmin taking a particular interest in the selection of The Beatles vinyls. 

Watching him closely, you noted the ring he wore, the delicate way he moved through the records. Seokmin was so interesting to you, everything he did seemed to be with purpose, but he also seemed carefree at times. Again, you wished so desperately to be able to communicate with him easier. 

Eventually, you made it out of the store. The sun bit through the cold of the air and warmed your face. Closing your eyes you moved to face the sun and took a deep breath. You stayed here for several moments before hearing the click of Seokmin’s shutter again. Your eyes snapped open and toward him, his camera still raised, he watched you through the viewfinder again. 

“Hey!” you laughed, “Stop that” 

“You look happy” he replied simply, lowering his camera, looking at you fondly. There was nothing to do about the blush blooming across your cheeks, and you did nothing to hide it this time. He walked toward you and gestured down the street, “shall we walk?” he suggested. 

The walk was quiet, but again, comfortable. Seokmin switched what hand he was carrying his camera in, letting the hand closest to you drop to his side. Periodically, his knuckles brushed against yours, giving you the feeling of electricity running up your arm every time. The tension crackled between the two of you until Seokmin stopped in front of a restaurant, “Hungry?” he looked at you, tilting his head to the side, a gesture that reminded you so much of a puppy it was insane. 

“So hungry,” you agreed. Soon enough the two of you were seated at a booth that felt more like a couch. Comfortable silence fell between you as you looked over the menu, you eyed him a few times before he put his menu down. 

After your orders were placed Seokmin brought out his camera and began to look through his photos. Every so often he would tilt the screen so you could see, most of the shots he showed you were of you. Suddenly, his phone began to buzz incessantly. You watched as his eyebrows knit together in confusion and he picked up his phone to check it. 

“Ah” he sighed, and placed his phone face down back on the table, “My friend Soonyoung….” his eyes drifted around the restaurant, he was thinking of what to say next, “jagiya—“ he laughed and clutched the white knit beanie that sat on his head, “my English” 

“Talk to me in Korean,” you shrugged nonchalantly, “I won’t understand, but I’ll listen” you assured him. His eyes lit up, and he immediately began talking animatedly. You were amazed at the change in him once he was speaking comfortably. Watching him attentively you took in the way his hands accompanied his enthusiasm. 

You could tell, Seokmin was a person who was just full of love. Anyone lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that love was someone you were jealous of. You would do anything to sit in his light for as long as he would allow you. 

*** 

“My last day” Seokmin’s voice still laced with sleep mumbled through your phone. You don’t know what possessed him to call you this morning but you would never complain. 

“Today?” you asked, feeling a bit nervous, “do you have plans?” 

“Mhmm” he hummed, “Join me later?” you could feel your heart jump up into your throat at the question. 

“Of course” you mumbled trying to steady your voice. 

Seokmin (fish n chips guy) sent a location 

The sun setting overhead cast the street in watercolors of pinks and blues. Your eyes scanned through the throng of people all here to watch the sunset over the river. He caught your attention almost instantly, he was facing away from the river, arms propped up on the stone barrier, eyes closed enjoying the night air. 

As you approached you watched as the breeze caught his bangs and ruffled them. Before making your presence known you snapped a picture of him looking so serene. 

“Hey” you ventured, now right in front of him. His eyes cracked open, taking in your frame. Almost instantly his face was overtaken with a smile. 

“Hi” he replied. You moved to stand next to him, facing the river and he turned to look out with you. Both of you stood in quiet contemplation for several minutes. 

“You know,” you broke through the tension, “I haven’t been here in so long.” your eyes trained on the clock face of Big Ben across the water, “Somehow, you’ve reminded me of all the parts of my city I love” Seokmin shifted to face you, 

“I love the city,” you met his eyes, it felt as though he was trying to tell you something. 

“You leave tomorrow” you turned toward him, “is it weird if I say I’ll miss you?” Seokmin shook his head as the wind picked up. Once more, the breeze caught both of your hair. Seokmin moved to brush yours aside, searching your eyes to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. You were glued to your spot, you wouldn’t dare move. Finally you felt his slender fingers in your hair, tucking it behind your ear. 

You felt your breath hitch in your lungs as Seokmin’s fingers trailed down and he cupped your cheek with his hand. Absentmindedly, you melted into his touch. 

“I leave tomorrow” he sighed as he echoed your previous statement. His other hand found your other cheek and his thumb brushed against it softly. The both of you stood frozen for a moment, neither of you wanting to break the spell. 

Suddenly, Seokmin was leaning down toward you, and you felt his soft lips brush yours. The kiss was quick, but full of meaning. It seemed like he was communicating all the things he had wanted to say over the last few days that he couldn’t find the words for.

[its-time-to-write]

this is 100% self indulgent. no one asked for this except me and I have zero excuse for how it turned out. i have no defense, no witty rebuttal, no nothing. i wrote this because i wanted to, and at the very least i hope this inspires someone to write their borderline-self-insert fic and post it publicly.

this fic is set after season 3. enjoy😂

(oh now might also be a good time to mention how much I love Man City. bc it’s a lot.)

can’t hear my thoughts (i cannot hear my thoughts)

Calling Lake Como beautiful is like saying space is big. It’s true for sure, but it feels like an understatement. It’s June and the weather is absolutely gorgeous, perfect for the wedding you’re attending. It’s for two good friends of yours, and it’s going to be a party full of football royalty. You’re mostly excited to see friends who are WAGs from other teams who you’ve connected with over the past year and a half.

Oh, and you suppose it will be a nice vacation with Jamie, too.

You’re staying at a beautiful hotel that’s been open since 1910, and you swear you’ll never stay somewhere as beautiful again.

“Getting ideas for the house?” Jamie teases, and it sends a thrill down your spine with the way he refers to his house as your collective home. 

You grin as he spins you around the Suite Greta. Everything is golden, from the drapes to the pillows to the sun catching on his face.

“No,” you reply, “but maybe for a vacation home?”

Jamie laughs as he catches you up in his arms. “I could see us here in the next off-season. Not sure we’d get out much,” he muses and you wrap your arms around him as tight as they can go.

You’re here for a full week but Isaac’s wedding is only one day. You and Jamie have plans to see everyone who’s in town, as well as have some time to yourself.

“Sasha wants to go out for dinner tonight,” you tell Jamie as he unpacks his suitcase.

“Girls only, or will Jack be there?”

“Let’s see,” you hum as you scan the group chat. “Isabel said she and Erling will be there, so looks like it’s a couple’s thing. That’ll be fun, right?” you ask with just a hint of anxiety. Jamie and Jack are friends, they’ve run in the same circles for years, but you’re not sure how he’s going to feel about being outnumbered two to one, City to Richmond, at dinner.

“As long as Rodri ain’t there, I’m fucking chuffed,” he says as he lays out his suit on the bed.

“Chuffed? Is that a thing you say now?” you ask, flat on your back on the bed.

“Yep,” he replies. “I’m posh now, babe. Sorry you Americans can’t do it as well as we Brits.”

“I have it on good authority that we do it very well,” you smirk. “But I don’t think that’s something you’ll get to experience tonight. I haven’t seen Sash or Isa in ages, so we’ll probably talk for a long time and then I’ll be tired when we get back to the room.”

Jamie groans. “You’re sadistic, woman. The shit you put me through.”

You smile and remind him, “You’re the one who picked me, remember?”

—

Jamie is technically the one who picked you. You had just moved from America to London, got a temp job at a Richmond FC, and the rest is history. You don’t work at Richmond anymore, haven’t for a while, as you’ve been able to start your own thing in between attending matches and events and whatever else Jamie’s invited to. Being Jamie’s girlfriend is a full-time job on its own, and he definitely spoils you beyond what you’re used to. He’s the one who bought your dress for the wedding and it freaked you out just a little bit until you called Sasha (an angel, by the way) who laughed and talked you off the ledge. 

“Comes with the territory, babe. They’re just boys with more money than they know what to do with. Jack’d buy me the moon if he could figure out how. Enjoy it. It’s been a while since anyone’s seen Tartt this happy.”

So you do. You had been living together for almost a year now so you’d think that a dress wouldn’t push you over the edge, but there you go. You’re trying to be calmer about it. It’s better ever since you met Sasha and Isabel. 

You had been stuck in a room while Jamie talked to his old manager, and they had noticed your deer-in-the-headlights expression. You’re right in the middle of the two, age-wise, and from similar enough backgrounds.

“Here’s my number. Come over to my flat tomorrow for brunch. We’ll get you settled, babes,” Sasha had said. You went and it had been amazing to finally make real friends, even if they were technically on the opposing team. 

You’re excited to see them, excited for Isaac to finally get married, and excited to spend a full seven days with Jamie by your side. It’s going to be the best.

—

You enter the venue arm-in-arm with Jamie, practically dancing across the grass. The sun’s shining and there are all sorts of people you know and love. It feels a little surreal to be here. 

Earlier, back in the room, you had slipped into your dress carefully to avoid getting makeup stains on the front. The skirt fell just at your knees and puffed out ever so slightly, with thick straps instead of regular sleeves so you could fully enjoy the warm weather. 

“Do a spin,” he had said, voice full of glee. You’d acquiesced, twirling around to let the blue tile print billow out before he caught you, kissing your shoulder so as not to ruin your makeup. 

Now, you’re holding onto him and trying not to wrinkle his linen suit when you hear someone shout your name. 

“Sasha!” you screech, running toward her as best you can with your shoes on the grass. You squeeze each other into a tight hug, uncaring about about the state of her hot pink dress. 

“Hey man,” Jack says to Jamie, who grins and shakes his hand. “You’d think they haven’t seen each other in fucking ages.”

“It’s been twelve hours,” you say. “And before that it’s been like two months. Anyway, don’t you two have some football to discuss or something? Or headbands? Or-”

“Really short socks,” Sasha helpfully supplies. 

Jamie shakes his head. “Fuck off, Attwood.”

“Fuck you, Tartt,” she replies. 

“Oi, you two wouldn’t even be friends if it weren’t for me. You could be a little nicer,” Jamie says. 

“Oh is that Hughes?” Jack asks before either Sasha or Jamie can escalate. Their entire friendship is based off sniping one another and neither you nor Jack are particularly in the mood for it today. 

Jamie turns to look. “Oh mint, looks like things are starting. You saved us seats?”

“Yeah, with Haaland and Isabel,” Sasha returns, linking her arm through yours. “C’mon, did you get yourself a parasol?”

—

It’s the most beautiful wedding you’ve ever been to. Stella looks stunning in her gown, Isaac stoically sobs his eyes out while Colin surreptitiously hands him a tissue. Even Roy seems to be having a good time, but then again Keeley once told you that he “really fucking loves weddings.” You hadn’t believed her, but his lips are in a straight line instead of a frown so maybe she was right. 

There’s a group of City and Richmond players together, and it’s a little strange to see how friendly they are off the pitch. Dani is explaining something with lots of hand gestures to Phil while the rest of the group jokes around. 

Sasha sneaked you and Isabel away to get drinks for yourselves and you were about to get away unnoticed when Erling caught Isabel’s arm and asked for a drink too, so now you’re ordering for your boyfriends as well as yourselves. 

You don’t really care, there’s a part of you that’s reveling in the sheer joy of being young and hot. Sue you. 

“Cosmo, please,” you say while the girls order drinks of their own. Sasha raises an eyebrow so you shrug and say, “Jamie likes what he likes.”

She rolls her eyes and scoffs “Tartt,” but it’s with the affection of an older sister so you elbow her and ask, “What did Jack want?”

She makes a face. “Heineken. He also likes what he fuckin’ likes.” 

You wheeze out a laugh as Isabel comes to join you. She smiles as she sips from something lavender colored in a martini glass. She cuts an elegant figure in her yellow, billowy dress. You smooth your dress and open your mouth to say something when a voice calls your name. You look to see your ex walking up, hand-in-hand with his wife. You know, the one he left you for. 

“Jake,” you say in surprise. God, you need your brain to form coherent thoughts right now. “What are you doing here?”

He grins, far too wide and goofy to be real. Not like Jamie, you think. 

“Oh, you know, Emma’s loosely related to the bride on her dad’s side. She asked for an invite, so here we are. Who are you here for? Bride or groom?”

“Both, actually,” you reply automatically. Jake’s words are grating, not so much in content as they are in tone. He always had a way of saying things condescendingly, like everyone else was a stupid little kid. 

“Oh,” he says in what you think is supposed to be surprise, “that’s funny. I didn’t know you knew anyone out here. You’ve been living in England all alone, right?”

Emma just hovers by Jake’s shoulder. She’s not contributing anything to this conversation except a snooty little smirk. 

“No,” you say. “I’m not alone. This is Isabel, by the way.” You look around for Sasha, but she’s disappeared. Smart girl. 

Isa doesn’t extend her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she says and Jake takes her at her word. He puffs up his chest a little bit as he asks, “Where are you from? You don’t sound British.”

“We’re from Norway,” a voice behind her says. “I’m Erling.”

Sasha has reappeared with Jack, Erling, and Jamie in tow. You mentally congratulate her with a well done, Sash as you feel Jamie’s arm loop around your waist. 

He feels like a solid wall against your back, a glimmer in an otherwise garbage moment. 

Jake takes stock of the three men who are looking at him with less-than friendly stares. You’re not sure what Sasha told them, but you’re absolutely positive Jamie recognizes Jake. You can practically feel the hairs on his arm bristling. 

Jake finishes his assessment and deems it appropriate to talk. “So, how do you all know each other?”

Jamie scoffs and looks away, while Jack stares at Jake like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

You wonder what it is with your affinity for J-names. 

“We’re footballers,” Erling says before anyone can take more offense. 

“Premier League footballers,” Jamie adds, as if it means anything to Jake. 

Jake’s American, like you, and he’s never been much for sports anyway. He wouldn’t even recognize David Beckham if the man were standing under a poster of himself. 

Jake says, “Right. Hey, weren’t you on one of those trashy dating shows?” and Jamie stiffens. 

Sasha mutters, “Fuck’s sake,” under her breath as Erling and Isabel take pointed interest in something in the distance.  

“No,” Jamie replies shortly. “The fuck were you talking to my girl?”

Jake looks to you in surprise. “Oh! You two are together? That’s… well, that’s… I guess I just didn’t expect her to be whoring around like that. But hey, move to another country and all morals go out the window, right?”

That’s the thing about Jake. He never speaks as if he’s actually trying to be offensive. He just says what’s on his mind. And you’re a little concerned that what’s on his mind is going to land Jamie (and quite possible Jack) in jail. Neither of them are especially known for backing down from a squabble. “Cut from the same cloth,” Pep was rumored to say. 

“Fuck off, mate,” Jack interjects. “Just fuck off. Everyone here loves her, and you can’t talk about her like that.”

Your ex reevaluates the situation at hand and decides the best thing to do would be to take Emma’s hand and walk away. 

“Strange that his wife does not speak,” Erling remarks. 

You grimace. “You could’ve stopped at ‘strange.’ No idea what I ever saw in him.”

Jamie has a crushing grip on your waist so you wiggle a bit to get him to loosen up. 

“Prick,” he mutters. “How the fuck did he even get here, anyway? He’s in fucking America.”

“His wife’s loosely related to Stella. They asked for an invite,” Isabel volunteers. 

Jamie rolls his eyes. “Oi, if he tries to talk to you again, I’ll grab Roy and we’ll fucking kill him.”

“Yeah, ‘cause McAdoo’s never been above a little violence at a party,” Jack grins. 

You return his smile and say, “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure his mother-in-law would kill you.”

Erling huffs out a laugh. “Never a dull moment in the Premier League, is there?”

Isabel grins and loops her arm through his. “I’m tired of all this,” she says.  “Let’s go dancing. There’s a band and we don’t have to think about anything other than celebrating, yes?”

“God yes,” says Sasha.

Jamie still looks murderous, but you squeeze his hand once and whisper, “I’m fine, babe. It’s fine.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but he lets you pull him along to the dance floor with the group.

— 

There are so many people that you don’t even catch a glimpse of Jake and Emma. You’re not sure what they’re up to, and fairly certain they don’t know anyone else here. You on the other hand, are living your best life as Jamie sings along to “Ain’t No Mountain.” He’s swinging your arms around as he sways in time to the music. You just let him lead you however he wants. The song ends and he presses his lips to your ear so you can hear him over the sheer volume of everyone talking. “D’you want a drink? I can go get you something.”

You nod and mouth my usual, please, so he salutes and begins weaving his way through the crowd. You watch him as long as you can before spinning back around with a smile.

A smile that quickly fades when you realize Emma is right in front of you.

She says, “Cute dress,” and for a moment, you believe she’s being sincere but then she follows it up with, “Did you borrow it from your grandma’s closet? I’ve seen people do that.” 

Right, because grandmas are known for wearing dresses like this. 

“What? No, Jamie got it for me,” you say. 

“Oh cute, is it from Walmart? I think I saw something like it there last week.”

Emma is trying to draw blood. You suppose she’s taking her shot now as opposed to back then because she thinks there’s no one around to call her out. No one who knows her. 

You say, “They don’t have Walmart here,” instead of “It’s Dolce & Gabbana,” because the second phrase would make you sound like a prick. There’s a part of you that wants to be a prick, though, wants to channel that part of Jamie that’s ruthless, vicious and cruel, messing with the opposition before he cuts them down. 

The first time you saw it, it was hard to believe the Jamie on the pitch was the same Jamie who played with your hair while you cooked, or put a sticky note on his fridge titled “Babe,” detailing everything you’d ever said you liked. 

Emma sees she’s not getting to you, so she changes tactics. “Must be hard being here without any friends,” she remarks. “All alone. And you’ve never been especially extraverted. Are those people the only ones here you know?”

God, Jamie, where are you?

You open your mouth to respond but are cut off by someone with a distinctly midwestern twang say, “I heard one of my favorite countrywomen was here.”

You turn to see Ted Lasso grinning at you in a black suit. It’s the same smile you remember, albeit his eyes are a little sharp. You’d bet anything he knows exactly what’s going on between you and Emma. 

“Ted!” you smile as a rush of relief floods your system. You step into his arms for a hug as he says, “Hey, sweetheart. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know,” you say. “Kind of great, actually. I wondered if you were going to be here! Have you seen Jamie yet?”

Ted shakes his head. “Y’know, I haven’t. Why don’t we find him together?” He offers you an arm and you take it gratefully, choosing not to spare Emma a glance.

“She seems like a real bucket of laughs,” Ted remarks.

“You have no idea. That’s my ex’s wife.”

Whatever Ted thought you were going to say, he certainly wasn’t prepared for that. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before settling on a short, “Well I’ll be danged.”

You laugh and stand on tiptoes to try to see Jamie. You don’t see him, but you catch a glimpse of an especially tall, blond head.

“This way,” you tell Ted. You brush past Phil who smiles at you, past Colin and Michael, and past someone you’re pretty sure is a Beckham.

You make your way to Erling and Isabel as they dance to the music in their own corner.

You frown. “Have you seen Jamie?” you shout. 

Isabel shakes her head. “He was looking for you,” she calls back.

“Oh,” you say, “Ted, this is Isabel and-”

“Erling Haaland,” Ted says, hand outstretched. “Pleasure to meet you, son. Big fan of the way you play the game.”

You miss Erling’s response, startled by a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see Sam standing behind you.

“Sam!” you exclaim with a grin, “You look so handsome!”

Sam returns your grin and strikes a pose. “I’ve been sent on a very important mission. I am to retrieve you and bring you to Jamie and I am under no circumstances allowed to let a small rat man named Jake speak to you.”

You raise an eyebrow. 

“Jamie’s words, not mine,” Sam clarifies. “Although I must admit, I have seen this rat man. I do not like him very much.”

“You and me both,” you agree. You wave to Isabel and pat Ted on the arm before following Sam.

He leads you away from the crowd of people to a stone path illuminated by small lights. This can’t be right, you think but Sam points down the path and says, “This is where I leave you.”

He turns to leave then changes his mind and spins back around. “It was lovely seeing you today, albeit for a short amount of time. I hope I will be seeing more of you while we are here. It is not often I meet someone who makes Jamie more tolerable.”

He speaks with a touch of humor and it’s just enough to dispel any apprehensions about what’s waiting for you in the dark. 

You say, “Thanks Sam. Love ya,” which he returns before he disappears back to the main party.

You take a breath and head down the steps.

It’s dark, the light barely shining enough for each step, but as you get farther you see a shadowy figure sitting on a bench under a tree. You smile. You can tell exactly who it is by his silhouette.

Jamie stands as you get closer and pulls you into his arms.

“Thought we’d sneak away to make out a bit,” he says. “And maybe to you wouldn’t yell at me in front of all our friends.”

You groan. “What did you do? Please tell me it has nothing to do with Roy. Or Jack. Oh my god, did you two start convincing people you were separated at birth again? Because it’s really only funny one time.”

“Well…” Jamie hedges.

You pinch his back. It’s the only part of him you can reach at the moment. “Jamie Tartt, you’d better tell me what you did right now or so help me you are going to be sleeping on the couch for the rest of our lives.”

“Oi, don’t fucking do that!”

He reaches back to grab your hands and holds them flat on his chest. “We- Roy, Grealish, and me, might have gotten your prick ex kicked out.”

“You what?” you gasp.

Jamie starts speaking in a rush before you can say anything else. “Look, y’know how protective Grealish gets, especially because Sasha fucking loves you, and then Roy heard that your prick ex was here (not the twat ex) and he said it’s easier for him to get in and out of fights on account of him being a fucking manager but then Grealish said that it’s pretty much expected that fights happen so might as well and anyway, no one’s gonna fuckin’ snitch on any of us because (hate to break it to you babe), but you’re, like, everyone’s kid sister. They’d fucking kill for you so it’s possible that we channeled that into threatening to break all of his bones if he ever ended up in the same country as you again.”

You’re processing all of the things Jamie said plus the incredible speed at which he said them, so all you can manage is a single “Okay,” before he’s talking again.

“Ehm, it’s also slightly-fucking-possible that someone did break his foot.”

“What?” you all but shout.

“Coordinated effort between Isa and Haaland,” Jamie says. “Lad’s a fucking wall, don’t know if you’ve noticed.”

“Jesus, Jamie,” you groan. “I don’t know if I should kiss you or pinch you again.”

“You can do both,” he suggests.

You sigh. “I’m going to kiss you. Like, a lot. And I’m not going to worry about getting caught and after we’ve snogged like a pair of kids in high school- sorry, secondary school, then we’re going to eat a bunch more food and dance with our friends. And if you want to get sloshed, I promise I will only take funny videos for myself, and I will not send them to your mum this time.”

Jamie says, “Liar,” as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“Fine,” you concede, “I will most definitely send them to your mum. And Simon. We’re on a group chat.”

“Not even gonna fucking ask,” Jamie says as he threads a hand through your hair so he can get at a better angle to kiss you.

—

You wake up the next morning (ahem, afternoon) to Jamie’s foot in your face.

“Excuse me, sir,” you say.

He hiccups himself awake. “Yeah?” he rumbles. “What fucking time..?”

“Late, I assume,” you say.

He groans and flips himself around so your heads are on the same side of the bed. He wastes no time in tangling your limbs together.

“Oi, koala boy. Some of us have morning breath.”

“No y’don’t babe,” he mumbles.

You scratch his head and a shudder runs through his body. “I know,” you say, “my breath is perfect. I meant you. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Cruel woman,” he returns before lapsing into silence. The sun slips through the curtains, and you’re sure it’s going to be another gorgeous day

“Jamie,” you begin then stop.

He says, “Yeah, love?” while looking up at you with his gorgeous blue eyes and you take a moment to freeze this image in your head. 

Jamie Tartt, in bed, hair tousled from sleep. Pillowy white duvet, golden freckled skin, warm body pressed to yours.

He kisses your shoulder, rousing you from your thoughts. 

“Jamie,” you say again, “I wanted to say-”

“Don’t,” he interjects. “You’re not fucking allowed to say thank you for the bare fucking minimum.”

“But it’s not,” you reply, opting to skate over the fact that he apparently can read your mind. “Bare minimum is like, making sure I’m not alone with him, not getting your friends together to scare him off and break his foot.”

Jamie’s been kissing your skin wherever he can reach as you speak, so his words are interspersed with pecks. “Technically, the foot was an accident. Ask any one of our witnesses. And besides, they’re your friends too. You’re the one who got ‘em all to like ya despite the fact we’re mortal enemies on the pitch.”

“You’re the one who goes tanning with Jack,” you remind him.

“Lies told by the press,” Jamie grumbles. “This is my natural sexy glow.”

You say, “Okay little British boy,” as Jamie decides that his current position is not enough and he wants to lay on top of you.

He says something but his face is buried in the crook of your neck, so all you can feel is vibrations.

You ask, “Hm?” so he lifts his head.

“What if it were us next year?”

“Tanning or breaking feet?”

“Getting married.”

Jamie goes back to having his mouth on your neck as if the air weren’t just punched from your lungs.

You’re quiet long enough that he lifts his head again to ask, “Is that good quiet or bad quiet?”

“Good!” you hastily confirm. “Good, but, babe- you haven’t even asked me yet.”

He says, “I’m going to,” as if you should have known already. 

“Okay,” you breathe, “can you give me like a little heads up or something so my nails are done?”

“Uh-huh,” he says, “At the end of the week. Been planning it. Ring’s in my bag, even asked Stella if she’d be pissed that it’s the same week she took on the most un-sexy last name in history. She said she don’t give a shit as long as it’s not at her actual wedding. So.”

“I love you,” you tell him. “Not just because of yesterday or right now. I just think you’re great.”

“I am great, babe,” he says like it’s obvious. “Picked you, didn’t I?”

You crack a smile. “Alright, that’s enough out of you. Do you want to get out of bed or go back to sleep?”

“Sleep,” he replies immediately. 

“Thank God,” you groan, “I didn’t want to move. You’re like a weighted blanket.”

“It’s me sexy muscles,” Jamie says. You wiggle under him to get more comfortable.

“Uh huh,” you agree, but the words are hardly out of your mouth before you’re both back to sleep.

[femalefemur]

1. Captains and Cabins.

warnings: mentions of child abuse, mentions of child death, mentions of murder, mentions of dead bodies, mentions of skeletons, mentions of desecrating graves, mentions of piss, please let me know if I missed anything!

word count: 1.2k

synopsis: Kyle, Simon, Johnny and you have volunteered at a summer camp, you've arrived a week early to help with preparations, what could go wrong?

A/N: I am aware that summer camps are not a thing in the UK, I'm also not American so I have no idea if this is accurate, summer camps are also not a thing where I live but camping with other groups are.

“There’s a legend that the camp is haunted, they say that the guy who originally owned this place went crazy and killed all the counsellors one night while they were asleep. Snapped, just like that” Johnny snapped his fingers to emphasise his point as he spoke, a grin spread across his handsome face. 

“Shut up, he did not, that’s just a story kids tell to scare each other” Kyle rolled his eyes as he carried a box into the hall and placed it down with the others. 

“He did too! How else do you explain them all disappearing?” Johnny frowned as he crossed his arms and pouted at the taller man. 

“They probably just got lost in the woods, probably went for a hike and didn’t stay on the path or something. These woods are huge so it’s pretty easy to get lost in them even now, imagine back then when they only had paper maps” Kyle rolled his eyes as he mirrored Johnny’s stance. 

“Whatever,” Johnny rolled his eyes back and turned his attention back to you “don’t listen to him bonnie, the guy definitely went crazy.” “Sure,” you laughed as you looked at them both “I have to say Kyle’s story sounds more plausible than a guy suddenly went crazy and killed everyone” you shrugged as you left the hall to bring in another box, the two men trailing behind you and bickering about what really happened.

The Camp that they were arguing about was the very camp that you were currently at, Camp 141. You had been hired as a camp counsellor for the summer along with your three best friends, Kyle, Johnny and Simon. The three of you were inseparable since you had met in high school and that friendship had carried over into your adult years. 

The four of you had been through it all, helped Simon leave his abusive home, been there for him when his family died, held his hands at the cemetery as he cried at his mother and brother’s grave. You had all watched him piss on his piece of shit father’s grave that very night, hell you’d even helped him smash the headstone and every one after that until they finally stopped replacing it. You’d all been there when Johnny’s family kicked him out for coming out as bisexual, taking him into your homes with open arms, just as you’d all taken Simon in. Been there when Kyle started feeling the pressure of getting into a good university. You’d reminded him to sleep and eat, dragged his fingers away from his mouth when he’d started to bite his nails down to the quick from the stress of it all.

You’d all moved in together into a flat half-way between Oxford and London when you had all finally graduated high school, free to finally escape your small town and leave behind the bad memories. Kyle’s rigorous studying had paid off and he’d been accepted into Oxford University, and Simon, Johnny and you had been accepted into various universities across London. None of you minded the commute as long as it meant you could stay together, your little found family. That all led to the present, you had all graduated university a good few years ago, settled into your jobs and moved together into an infinitely better flat, now that you all had a much better and stable income. 

It was Simon’s idea to volunteer as camp counsellors for the summer, he’d said it would be good for you all to get away from the city for a bit and be close to nature. Though you suspected that he wanted to do something for the children, the camp was for children aged thirteen to fourteen which placed them around the age that Simon’s brother was when he passed. After the three of you had sat around the dining table and looked at every inch of the brochure you’d all happily agreed, not that any of you needed convincing, not with the way Simon’s face had lit up when he talked about the camp. So you’d all taken time off and found yourselves packing into Johnny’s 4WD for the long trip up north to the camp, arriving a week before it was set to open to the children to help set up. 

The camp director hadn’t been there when you’d all arrived, but he had left a note explaining that he’d had to make a trip into town for some last minute hardware supplies. He had also left instructions to bring in the boxes from the storage shed and into the main hall, along with where your counsellors' cabins were and told you to make yourselves at home. You’d all worked tirelessly for the whole afternoon, bringing the boxes in and unpacking the various supplies and activities from them, the thought of children happily following along with the activities making you smile. Your childhoods may not have been the best but you sure as hell could make these children’s childhoods a good one, even if it was only for a couple of weeks. 

“Where do you think the director is?” You had sat down outside on the steps up to the main hall, a cold bottle of water in your hands as you relaxed. 

“Who knows, should have definitely been back by now” Simon frowned as he glanced at the setting sun on the horizon, shades of pink and orange painting the sky as he leaned back on his arms and tapped his boot against yours, a silent “I love you.”

The director still hadn’t returned by nightfall and you’d all made yourselves right at home, settling into the cabin before exploring the kitchen and making dinner. You’d finally settled in for the night, showered away the grime and sweat of the day before slipping into a comfortable pair of cotton sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt you’d stolen from Kyle. It had already been oversized on him and on you it was even larger, it also somehow still smelled of him no matter how many times it got washed, the warm scent of musk, honey and oud clinging to the fibres of the fabric. 

“You know they say he used to be a SAS Captain” Johnny spoke as he lay on his bunk bed and scrolled on his phone before Kyle smacked it out of his hand and onto his face.

“Stop talking about that, we really don’t need to hear about a murderous camp director right before we go to bed at said camp” Kyle scowled as he was hit in the face with Johnny’s pillow. 

“Someone scared?” Johnny teased him as he grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “He’s right, it’s just unsettling to hear about it right before bed” You huffed as you watched the two play wrestle and laugh, snuggling in further under the covers while Simon joined in on the wrestling. 

“Am just saying that he could have snapped, probably saw a lot of shit as a Captain, and it could have gotten to him” Johnny shrugged as the three of them lay sprawled out after the wrestling. “Probably knew how to kill them quietly and hide the bodies too” he kept speaking, “maybe they’re buried under the floorboard” Johnny laughed as your pillow hit his face.

“Please shut up, I don’t need to think about sleeping on top of literal dead bodies” You frowned at him as you picked your pillow up and tucked it back under your head, closing your eyes in hopes that you would fall asleep soon and not dream of skeletons or murderers. Failing to notice the shadow that passed by the window behind the men.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello, thank you for the work you put into this blog. It might be a bit early, but are there any S2 fix-it recs yet?

Hi! We have a plentiful #fix-it tag now! Here are some more to add...

you're the victim of your crime by JustNerdyThings (T)

It's a simple decision, really. It's simple in the way things rarely are, in that it's not much of a decision at all. Whatever Aziraphale might stand to gain by staying in Heaven, it cannot possibly compare to what he's already lost down on Earth. So Aziraphale leaves. He miracles up his letter of resignation, pretends to clear out his still-empty desk, and leaves. And he hopes against hope that somehow, someday, Crowley might forgive him.

hungry work by CCs_World (E)

“You must understand,” Aziraphale had whispered. He was on the doorstep of the bookshop, months after his departure, looking in at Crowley — disheveled, both of them. Broken, both of them. Afraid, both of them. Hopeful, both of them. “I understand, Aziraphale,” Crowley had said back. They had stretched out a hand to Aziraphale. “Come on. Let’s think of a plan together.” And they had. Somehow, miraculously, ineffably, a second apocalypse had been averted. Heaven and Hell were cut off. They were free — truly free. And they had all the time in the universe. So, naturally, they left London. OR: After the Second Coming does not Come, Crowley and Aziraphale move to the South Downs. However, living together is difficult when there are over 6000 years of tension between them - tension which must be resolved if they are to have their happily ever after.

Trembling with tenderness by HolRose (T)

When the former demon Crowley is surprised in his Mayfair flat by a visit from his erstwhile boss and their ex-Archangel partner asking for assistance, Crowley has that familiar sinking feeling that something he did in the past has come back to bite him on the arse. When the current Supreme Archangel materialises in his flat shortly afterwards, Crowley knows the time has come for them to really talk at last. Just as soon as they’ve got rid of their visitors, that is. A post Season 2 fix-it fic in which they communicate properly, and Aziraphale demonstrates just how crafty, and also loving, he can be. This is one for those who might like something genuinely soft and romantic after the ending to Season 2.

We'll make Heaven a place on Earth by arabellas_court (E)

Aziraphale unfolded the piece of paper slowly beneath the horrid lighting. He cleared his throat and looked around, the corners of his mouth faltering just a second when he landed on Crowley. He looked down at the paper. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth—” “Jesus Christ,” Crowley grumbled. “No, dear, he came later, remember?” ------ Crowley knows his worth. He can't take Aziraphale back immediately after how hurt he's been. And for once, Aziraphale has to work for that forgiveness. Both of them are a mess. Both of them go to therapy—unexpectedly, together. Angst with a happy ending.

Snogging on Heaven's Door by Tetrisbiene (M)

What if Aziraphale actually said, 'Do it again. Please. Right now!'? A Post-Season 2 Fanfic. Aziraphale has to go to Heaven to thwart the Second Coming, and Crowley just can't let him go alone. Follow the pair as they meet old and new faces, go to heavenly meetings, sow mischief, and tempt some angels to fall in love with humanity. May the two find a flat surface to talk things over with each other before this big promotion can tear them apart. This is the story of our ineffable idiots in a roller coaster ride of emotions, heavenly bureaucracy, and stolen kisses against doors. Have some angst, some stupid puns in the chapter titles, and an elevator ride that's basically an excuse for me to write a cheesy alternative ending to help me get over the actual finale.

In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you by sunrisesinthesuburbs (T)

Aziraphale stares back at the Metatron with renewed optimism. “I know where my loyalty stands, Sir,” he starts, even managing a small smile. “And I do not need to prove myself to them. When the Time comes, they will enjoy what I’ve been working on.” He sounds convincing, really. Honest, reliable and responsible. Crowley decides this is a good time to whistle: “Someone’s getting all professional up here.” Aziraphale dares to peep in his direction, hoping to convey with one brief look everything he is thinking about: ‘Shut up, will you? I’m trying to do something here.’ Crowley smirks, of course. He really is so annoying. “Well, Aziraphale, you may not need to prove yourself to them,” the Metatron reaches for something inside his jacket, “but you need to prove yourself to me.” Aziraphale fails Heaven's test (of course), and now he has to fix an even bigger mess. Throw a messy break up and a Second Coming in the mix and, somehow, you get a getaway car and a cottage in the South Downs. A lot can happen in a day. (Post Season 2; my very own attempt at fixing things.)

- Mod D

[harrysmimi]

Harry dates the reader's best friend and after they break up, Harry and the reader start dating!!! lmao I want to see drama 😈😈😈

And also related to this and this request. I tried my best to incorporate it all.

I hope this met your expectations as I tried my best. I'm just not the best at writing angsty angsts.

Ps. There won't be a part 2 to this. This has an open ending.

Six Weeks

Synopsis: One where YN's love with Harry but she can't seem to confess her feelings

More of my work

YN had an hour left before she got off work, so she started on lunch as she skipped on her breakfast to get her work done early.

Working from home came with it's own perks, she could work whenever unless she got her 8 hours in. At the end of the day her work was done, just had an hour before she could log out and enjoy her weekend all by herself. Today she woke up super early and started on her work so she can have a relaxing afternoon and evening. Taking a break from her freelance work which she is busy with on weekends.

Just as she was midway sauteing some onions her door bell went off. Lowering the flame to her stove she headed to get the door.

"Harry?" She was surprised to see an unexpected visitor.

"Hello love!" He exclaimed.

"Hi, come in!" She stepped aside to let him in.

"Thank you." He slipped off his shoes bythe door before he walked in, shedding his coat and hanging it up on the coat hook by the door.

"I thought you weren't going to be in town for another week." YN said, shutting the door behind her. "Do you wanna join me in the kitchen? The stove is on."

He followed her to the kitchen. "What are you making?"

"Just some rice, I'm feeling lazy today."

"I was done with my fitting and all early so came back to spend some time with Mum and dad and Gemma, before I go back on tour again." He answer her questions she asked before he got distracted.

They both talked and caught up since they last saw each other which was more than six months ago.

Harry and YN met just after One Direction announced their hiatus and he was back in London. YN was a new student, happened to be living at his mother's as a paying guest. His mum offered a few students to stay in at her's only if they're willing to abid to her rules, which many didn't but YN certainly did.

Harry was surprised how she was so only focused on what brought her to London in the first place. Her only ever leaving the house to go to college or work (though her dad really helped her out as much as he could), gave her a lot of time to spend with her land lady, Anne.

Anne and YN really got along well from the get go. Especially since Anne was fine with her using the kitchen whenever she wanted the girls spend their free time cooking up something. YN was taught few of her baking recipes whilst Anne was introduced to her guest's native cousin.

Mundane and might be boring. But they had fun.

YN ended up staying for the entirety of her degree course at Anne's, and for another six months before she found studio flat to rent and be on her own with a stable job.

YN and Harry met over at Christmas time, a couple of meetings and he got to know sbe doesn't have any idea of his work life.

YN liked to call her the most boring person to ever walk on the planet earth not no reason!

He had long jair back then, he was visiting his mum and sister as they had a fun holiday planned whilst YN didn't. She had to stay back in London and work on her assignments as the new environment and degree course was kicking her arse for good.

For most of the time YN was locked up in her room, going at her assignments and projects. Learning to be a software engineer wasn't easy. Till this day she regrets not switching her career paths.

Though it took a long time for YN and Harry to become friends, it was the best friendship either of them have had. Given the fact that both of them are so much alike yet so different. Cliché but very fucking true. YN didn't needed any friends, in fact she only made friend's with just one girl from her class and that was it, after graduation they grew apart. Where as Harry made friends everywhere he went, even though he's as shy as her and as reserved as her.

Somewhere in those moments YN grew to harbour some (or more) feelings for him. He was kind, yet he found his way to annoy her in most adorable ways.

Just when she was about to tell him about her feelings, regardless of the possibilities of infinite outcomes popping up in her head Harry told her he was seeing someone. That someone was her only friend from College, Elodie.

Yeah, that felt like a punch in the gut.

Since then Harry and Elodie have been in an on and off relationship.

YN grew over her feelings somewhere in those years, Harry released his first album, started on with his solo tour. Her dad passed away so she has to take up the responsibility as the oldest child to look after her family back home. Her mum's a house and her siblings were all little when it all happened. That gave her another reason to just get over her heart break. Though her feelings for him manages to revisit her whenever he's being himself around her. Which is all the time.

But YN's been there for Harry through it all and his highs and lows with Elodie. Especially with his lows. She listened to him rant about things he couldn't stand about his girlfriend anymore. Even when she cheated on him and he cheated on her.

YN didn't liked that. It was all against her morals but she respected him enough to not judge him.

Now him visiting her gave her vibes that he was going to complain about his girlfriend. Surprisingly he didn't. Not until he started asking about her. They had sat down for dinner after YN forced him too join her.

"How have you been?" He asked, filling up his plate, "how's your mum?"

"She's doing great. Having fun picking out guys for me to marry." She chuckled.

"Never knew you were into arranged marriages." He looked at her, eyes wide, "is it still a thing?"

"I am certainly going to have an arranged marriage, unless I find a guy my mum approves of. Which have high likelihood, I won't, given I don't social much."

"Do you have someone in mind?"

"No, not really." She shrugged, continuing to stuff her face with food. "What about you and Elodie? Thought she didn't liked you coming over to visit me."

Of fuck! She shouldn't have asked that.

"Uhh, it's complicated." He hesitated, "she broke up with me for good last week over text."

"What the fu-" YN interrupted herself in time but the sentiments traveled through, "over text? Why?"

"She thought I was cheating on her again just because Kendall came to my show in LA." He explained, "I don't think I wanna do this anymore."

YN kept to herself. They've been through it. She had tried to talk some sense into him but he doesn't like to take advices because he's a grown man.

More like a man child.

YN had a lot of shit on her plate so she didn't found it worth to talk to him about it and them ending up getting into arguments. It put a lot of strain on their own relationship with one another which YN hates so much. So she just settled on humming in acknowledgement to what he shared.

"Hmm."

"Hmm? That's all?"

"What do you want me to say?" She shrugged, "we end up arguing when I'm telling you something which you're not going to agree upon on. I don't find it worth putting out friendship through it all."

"I thought you'd atleast... Never mind." He sighed.

YN tried her best not to roll her eyes at him and have her meal in peace. She put on TV with her favourite show. All for next twenty minutes she heard Harry sighing and being gloomy, which annoyed her. For many different reasons but one reason which had priority was that he's visiting her after a long time. They can be happy for once and not talk about person she has now grown to despise.

"Harry can you not?"

"What?"

"Can you not be gloomy for once?" She decided to cut to it, "we see each other once or twice a year that's mostly when I reach out to you, or when you have problems with your girlfriend who keeps on cheating on you! I can't take this anymore! For once be a good friend you used to be." With that she picked up the empty dishes and walked in the kitchen.

"Okay, I'm sorry for wanting to confine in person I feel safe around." His voice sounded much louder.

"You do this all the time!" She raised her voice to match his too, "all you talk about is what she when you don't listen to me, so now don't even tell me a thing about her. I don't want to hear it."

"Fine I'll leave then!" He grabbed his phone.

"Please, don't be my guest!" She gestured at the door.

Harry grabbed his coat and he was out the door. Did he regret lashing out on her? Of course, he did. But was he going to go back and apologise? No, not tonight.

YN on the other hand felt awful. She had never once asked anyone to leave her house under any circumstances.

She tried her best to be friends with Elodie. Her feelings wasn't a secret from her friend, that she liked Harry. Yet her friend proceeded to go on and date him.

Was it wrong that she said nothing about it? Maybe it was.

Harry seemed happy throughout the initial stage of his relationship with his girlfriend. That she didn't wanted to ruin. But she did warned him around the first time when Elodie was first cheating on him. He didn't believe her.

Then when he found out, he came crying to her after the first breakup. Then it kept happening, over and over and over again. It made harder for her to get over her feelings for him, it gave her false hopes of her chance with him. At least she wanted to tell him how she feels and get it off her chest there. Now when she chose to not talk about it for her own sake she did not expected him to lash out like that.

......................................................................

It was official that YN was moving back home.

It has been a good three months and life has been going on the same as it has been. Her mum has finally found a good match for her (according her it was). Being brown comes with it's own perks of skipping the whole dating option.

It was good she thought. The guy her mum told her about seemed nice. Vihaan was his name. Apparently he graduated from the same college as YN in the same year with a law degree. But he's planning to move back home as well.

Perfect! - is what her mum said.

YN had managed to squeeze in a few dates with him in her busy schedule. Now it something entirely new for her and she hasn't been on any dates really.

Today though, he had asked her to go meet his parents. It's not too early for it being an arranged marriage. But YN had some stuff she had to get rid off, like some pots and pans. A few things she had borrowed from Anne which were long forgotten and buried deep somewhere in the storage.

YN also happened to find a few blazers she borrowed for Harry when she was interviewing for new job (well be forced to wear those to make a good first impression). She never got to give those back to him because he was busy when she was free and vice versa. It was a hassle. So she packed the stuff to return to Anne and make a run to her place before she headed to meet her future in-laws who were in town. She also took the blazers with her to Anne's so she return them to her son who's constantly visiting her.

"Hello darling." Anne greeted YN by the door, "what all of this?" She was surprised to look at the box in YN's hands and blazer covers.

"Just some stuff I borrowed from you ages ago." YN said, slipped her shoes off by the door before she walked in, "like the baking pans for cakes and stuff. I never got to use them by the way."

Anne chuckled, "that's alright, you didn't had to bring these back, dove. What's with the impulsive cleaning?"

"Oh no, I'm sorry I forgot to tell you." She waddled in managing to carry a big box because she couldn't find any smaller ones with her puffer jacket on. "Can I put this on the counter?"

"Yeah, I'll help you with that." Anne gave her a hand.

"I am moving back to India." YN got back to answering her question, "I might be getting married soon, don't worry I'll send you the invitation. And yeah, that's pretty much the reason for me moving back home."

"Awh, YN that's so lovely!" Anne cooed, "who's the lucky guy?"

"He's from my city but he was a student in my college, I didn't know that. His name is Vihaan, he's a lawyer." YN shared, and involuntarily blood rush creeped up to her cheeks.

"Did you mum chose him for you?" Anne was already onto making tea for both of them.

"Yeah, she did." YN nodded as she shrugged off her jacket. "Also can't wait to get out of cold already."

"Yeah? It isn't this cold in your city, is it?"

"No, not really."

"And how long have you known Vihaan?" The green eyes lady asked.

"About three months. I've grown to quite like him." YN shared, "he's sweet."

"And when are you moving back? Got to through you a little dinner." Anne enquired.

"In about six weeks. But you don't have to. In fact why don't you and Gemma and even Michal come over to mine for dinner?" YN said, "you can also meet Vihaan then!"

"Now that sounds fun, will surely come over one weekend." Anne rested the mug of tea in front of her and YN mumbled her thank you, "and what are these?"

"Oh these are blazers which Harry lend to me. Can you give these back to him for me, please?"

"Why don't you do that yourself? He's coming over to visit with his girlfriend in about..." She looked at her phone for time, "five-seven minutes."

The door bell went off.

"There he is." Anne did her little excited walk to the front door to welcome her son.

YN did not wanted to see him actually, especially after the argument that day. Plus he was back with Elodie with new pap pictures all over the internet which Anne's confirmation to hammer the nail to the rumours, it broke her heart all over again. She has been doing great without seeing him and without talking to him all together. She has been able to slowly move on.

Also her moving back home wasn't for anyone but her mum who was all alone. YN get's to still keep her job and be transferred to the branch in her city and she can still work from home.

"YN do you want to stay over for lunch, I made my roast and there is cheesecake for dessert?" Anne suggested.

"I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to pass this time. I'm going to have lunch with Vihaan and his parents." YN shared, "I'll be heading out after my tea."

"Hold on, who is Vihaan?" Elodie asked, excited for some reason considering the fact that her and YN are no longer friends, which everyone is aware of.

"My future Fiancé." YN answered.

"As in your boyfriend?"

"Nope."

"YN, you're already getting married?" Harry butted in, "you told me about this, what? Like, a month ago?"

"Three months ago, Harry." YN corrected him.

"Am I invited?" Elodie clapped her hands like an excited toddler, her dyed hay-like blonde hair moving on her shoulders. "Come with me, whilst Harry helps his mum with something he got her!" She grabbed YN's hand and dragged her to the living room.

YN somehow managed to not spill her hot tea anywhere and sat down on Anne's sofa. The kitties are lounging next tk the fire place under their little blankets. Anne has still got the blanket YN crocheted (which took her about a year to finish with her schedule) for the kittens.

"Tell me about him?" Elodie asked grabbing a throw pillow to keep on her lap, looking behind her to see Harry following his mum to her garden with a pot with got for her as a just-because present. "Hmm, now you can just stay away from my boyfriend, can't you? How fun!"

"What the- what do you even mean?" YN was taken back.

"He's always with you when he's in town. Which he rarely comes back to London. He's always vacationing or touring or filming a movie or recording yet another Album." She complained. "And when he is in London he goes straight to see you!"

"What's the matter with that? He's working. And no we don't see each other every time he's in London so don't sit there and say that."

"Why not? He cheated on me. Wasn't that girl you?" The blonde finally confessed.

Harry confessed to her that he cheated on her ages ago. But he have seemed to leave out the details of with whom. It certainly wasn't her. Hell, YN haven't even thought about even kissing him after he told her he was seeing Elodie. It wasn't like her all.

"What the fuck are you talking about? He didn't cheat on you with me!" YN has had it.

It might not seem alot but her feelings have been bottled up little by little over the last few years.

"Yeah, you always manage to come in between us." Elodie shrugged simply accusing her, "didn't you tell me you like him. No in fact you said you loved him! I'm finally confessing it to you because you're getting married soon, so I don't care!"

"Then why did you went on and date him, didn't I tell you I have feelings for him and I was going to tell him?" YN's eyes welled up with tears this time. "You were my best friend and I trusted you."

If she were a cartoon her face would have been blood red with smoke coming out of her ears. But she's a pro at keeping her anger in check.

She watched the blonde's expressions change, looking over her head her behind her. She found Harry looking right at her. Now how much did he hear?

YN decided it was better to leave now to create any drama at Anne's house.

"Anne, umm, I'm gonna go now." YN grabbed her jacket and coat. "I'll call you later this week? To plan out dinner at mine."

"Sure love." Anne nodded in agreement. She could sense the awkward and heavy vibes clouding her lovely home right now.

YN could feel her heart trying it's best to burst out of her chest raw. As her

......................................................................

YN drove to Vihaan's place and from there he was going to take her to the restaurant they were going to meet up his parents at. Now it was something YN was very hesitant about. Meeting his parents without anyone with her. Yeah it is common tradition to take your parents to see your future spouse's parents. And it was too early.

YN got bad vibes from Vihaan's mum, her future mother-in-law. He had told her he didn't wanted live alone even after they got married as he's the only son and he wished to take care of his parents, which she was fine with. It is a thing in Asia that the older son takes care of the parents, which she doesn't mind as she grew up with those practices and traditions. But his mum gave her weird vibes even though she had talked to the lady a just twice over a video call and text. That's all.

Mother-in-law's have this very bad reputation of being controlling and manipulative, which so far Vihaan's mum fit checks every category off. It started off with talking about her reconsidering her continuing her job after marriage. Be a housewife instead.

Which haven't yet to tell her mother about or else she would have handled it herself. Her mum was very supportive of her focusing on her career and she would have still wanted to focus on her career. Her own mum gave up her career when she married her dad, whilst her dad was a good husband and a father, she struggled to take care of her kids when he passed. Now that was something she didn't want for YN.

YN actually liked this guy. He checked all the bare minimum boxes for her. He was respectful, and respected her decisions so far. She was starting to like him as well. But he ignored her when she brought up his mum wanting her to quit her job by diverting the topic to something else.

Well, she haven't been strong into dating game, having been gone on just couple of dates. Never passed the second date phase with anyone she went out with. It was a very obvious red flag for her. But she's still got a time to be firm and talk about it. At least to her mum first.

She still went on with it. "What's wrong?" Vihaan asked on the drive to the restaurant. She stopped at a red light.

"It's nothing, just had a rough day." She explained. "I wanted to tell you something."

"Hmm?"

"You mum asked me to reconsider keeping my job if we were to get married." She brought up the topic which he managed to divert before.

"She did?"

"Mhmm, she did." YN nodded and started driving again once the light turned green again.

"Well, what is your decision then?"

"You know it." YN shrugged, "I just don't want your mum telling me what to do and what not to, that's all."

"What? She's going to be your mother-in-law, basically she's like your mother." He chuckled, nervousness evident in his voice.

"But she is not my mother." YN pointed out, "even my own mother never told me to consider keeping my job. Like ever!"

"I respect her for that." He nodded, "we'll talk about it later, okay?"

"Why not now? You can tell you mum to not interfere, if we are to get married. We need to talk about it now, or else I would not want to live with your parents."

"So you want me to leave my parents?"

"Well, I'm leaving my mother too. It's only fair." YN tried to keep it cool. She haven't talked this much in a long time and her jaw hurt already. She prefered texting over talking over phone calls.

She's the silent kind of person.

"She have your brother to take of her, and he is now that he's got a stable career."

"You know he just started like two months ago, he's a fresher," YN reminded him. A heavy sigh left her chest as she tried her best to be calm. Or else she was going to run iver someone or run into a pole or a building.

"I am never say you can't. My mum just asked you to reconsider it, not actually quit your job!" He started getting defensive about it, his voice going up an octave.

"Don't yell at me, I'm just trying to have a conversation. Please!" She sighed again.

She was feeling the same heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach she felt every time Harry told her he's got a girlfriend. It felt so bad, and she couldn't pin point what she was feeling. But it was something negative. But she stopped her car on a side.

"You know what? Get out, please." She said.

"What? Why?"

"I don't want to do this anymore." She announced, "go tell you mum I said I do not want to get married her boy."

"Where is this coming from, YN? I told you we can talk about it. Later. Okay?" He said, trying to talk to her like she's a toddler.

"Don't talk to me. Like that. Okay?" She mocked his tone. "Please!" She gestured to the way out of her car. And he stepped out of car as she said so.

It wasn't an over reaction, was it? She knew how it was going to be. Her in-laws are going to manipulate her into quitting her job. That's how it is. Even if they agreed to her (whish they don't het to have an opinion on) keeping her job now, they would guilt trip her into doing it anyway.

Just like her own grandparents did with her mother. Whilst her mum doesn't regret quitting her job for her kids, YN was sure she would.

Growing up her dad always made her life easy. Hell, she didn't even needed to keep a side job as she studied abroad. He even paid for her rent and other expenses along with her tuition fees the best he could, she kept a job just so she could live more comfortably and not trouble her father much more.

It was very hard on her, in every way after her dad passed. Because she had no one to rely on anymore. People looked at her with pity because she's not a fatherless child. It gets to her but she tried her best to not pay any mind to it. She's got her mum for her.

She called her mum the first thing when she got home. Luckily she didn't got her lease signed off, or sold any of her things yet like she planned on. She was going to reconsider other things now!

......................................................................

Harry was furious.

As he stood there on his place watching YN walk out of the door. She didn't even pit on her puffer she was in that hurry to leave. He knew YN wasn't the type to stay and argue, she prefers to take herself out of the situation until it's all cooled down enough to talk about it. He doubts she's even going to talk about it. Or to him at all after this.

Now he knew why YN stopped being friends with Elodie.

He felt like a biggest dickhead and dumbass to ever exist that he never saw that she liked him since the very beginning like he did.

Harry had grown to be infatuated by YN the first time he saw her. That grew into a small crush and he started liking her. Hell and heavens, there was a time where both of would text about hours and hours talking about literally nothing, sending each other funny posts to keep a conversation going. Fuck, how he missed those days!

And to hear YN say that she was going to tell him how he felt but he beat her to telling her her that he was seeing her other best friend from college. He thought she didn't like him that way.

Honestly, he was feeling lonely but his feelings grew for Elodie. He wouldn't lie there but everything died soon when she first cheated on him. He didn't know why he got back together with her.

Maybe because he found out YN was going on a date with this guy she met at work. Though it didn't work out after the second date. He felt even more awful.

God, even his mum knew about how YN felt about him. She never told him either. Well, why should she? They were both grown up adults and it was their personal matter.

If it were him in place of Elodie he wouldn't even consider going out with someone their best friend admitted to like. Well, he did went out with YN's best friend, he ain't a saint himself. But he wouldn't betray his best friend like that.

All Elodie did was feed of off him. The clout, the career boost. And he didn't even saw it until his mum pointed it out to him after he told Elodie to leave. She was bug face in modeling industry all of a sudden, she was getting bigger and bigger campaigns, even big magazine covers. All because Harry did not care if she talked about him because there was nothing to hide. He didn't realise she was using him. Even after she cheated on him twice. Made a huge fuss about it, even in media about him doing the same. He wasn't petty to tell after her. He would never do that. Even to his worse enemy.

He knew what is it to be under media and public scrutiny, 24 by 7, every day of the hear.

YN was probably his only friend who wasn't the part of the entertainment industry in anyway who managed to keep him on his toes. She didn't worked for any celebrity, she didn't even bother to be friends with other of his industry friends. Even his manager. She hates him in fact.

He betrayed her. In a worse way he could only imagine. This has never happened to him.

He went into his head space of thinking about if he would have been patient enough how things would have turned out. With a mug of tea in his hands as he sat on his make shift bed of the sofa at his mum's, Skye and Dotty fast asleep on his legs over the blanket on his lower body.

All he could think about was the stupid fit Elodie threw at his mum's house, like a fucking toddler. Luckily his mum was nice enough to not kick her and him out of her house, he was embarrassed. Yeah, Anne is his mum but it was still embarassing.

"Wasn't it her?" Elodie asked, furious of Harry when he brought up her recent cheating incident.

"It was never her!" Harry exclaimed, "it was never her, now if you're done Elodie please leave. This is my mum's house."

"I know who's house this is!" She hissed at him, "she made you cheat on me because she wanted to take revenge. She told me she's in fucking love with you! But I love you as well! It's not fucking fair!"

"Then why the fuck would you go on and cheat on someone you love?" He pointed out, but he doesn't want a answer, "you on what? I don't want any answers from you, we're done and through. Don't reach out to me again, just leave please!" He walked her to the door grabbing all his stuff. Shut the door behind him taking a few minutes to relax himself there.

His mum saw everything. She didn't know he ever cheated on any of his partners. But he did. He never wanted to tell him mum, because she raised him to be a better person. But she heard everything. And there was no way his mum didn't knew, it was public affair that he had a hook up. Elodie made sure to make it a public affair. But he knew his mum chose not to believe those.

"Hey, it's alright." Anne still approached him with a hug.

"I'm sorry, I didn't wanted you to know!" His face was smooshed in her neck, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." He kept chanting as he sobbed and sobbed.

"It's alright!" Anne assured him, letting him get it all out. After he calmed down he did talked about it to his mum.

He did hooked up with this random person, he doesn't remember their name, he was drunk and high. It was after he had an yet another huge argument with Elodie. He ended up taking that person his place he shared with her when she was on a trip for her runway show.

Confessing it and getting it all out was something which put him at ease there. He had one less thing weighing on his shoulders.

His mum convinced him to stay the night, so he made the sofa his home where Anne's cats usually sleep at night. But none of them were asleep really, running around like they're in a forest. Well half them were asleep on him though, so he couldn't move much.

He remembered, YN adores Anne's cats so much! And the feeling are mutually from the felines as well. They're not as kind to him as they're being now, maybe they can sense he's sad and feeling low. With Skye and Dotty both purring loudly on him, he didn't mind the smuggles. He needed that.

He was really sad. Not because he broke up with with his girlfriend. God, no! He wasn't. He couldn't bring himself to love Elodie again after this second time she cheated on him. They were through it, talked it out, but he saw that still coming through.

He was sad because YN was there the whole time. If he had waited for some time. Only if...

He feels bad being an asshole to her that day. She was still being nice to him, made extra food because he was over just in time. They were sat in her living like usual, not having to talk much and just enjoy one another's company there. He fucked it up.

YN was probably tired of his shit that she refused to talk about it. He gets it now. She probably still feels hurt though he doesn't want to assume, she was seeing someone else now.

But that doesn't mean he can't talk it out. So he tried to reach for his phone and immediately called YN to check in on her. She seemed so hurt when she walked out. But her line was busy. He felt even more horrible.

......................................................................

It has been a month, and YN was still miserable. She just had two weeks until she could finally go home for a while.

Everything started to feel overwhelming to her. Even working from home. She ordered groceries online to not having to leave her flat. Her car was probably going to hate her. So was her body when she eventually has to leave her flat for something or the other.

But she lost it and called her mum to tell her everything. Better share it with anyone than bottle it up. She was in her bed crying her heart out talking to her mum on the call. This is something she would go to Harry to talk about. But he's the reason she's crying now. And maybe that asshole Vihaan.

She liked him. The feelings were real. Her intuitions were never wrong. Well, maybe they were wrong with Elodie but with Vihaan they were not.

Apparently there was a huge scandal made of this issue back home, she had not energy to deal with whatsoever. Typical brown people behaviour it was. All she needed to know was that the marriage was going to be a total scam for her.

"Mumma, I really don't know what to do!" She sobbed into her pillow.

"I know it's going to be hard. Why didn't you tell him that you like him? You have." Her mum tried to console YN the best she could over a phone call.

"Because he was dating my best friend. Or he is, I don't know. I don't want to get in between my best friend and her boyfriend. That's not me!"

"And she did the same to you, did you tell her that you like this guy?" Her mum pointed out.

"Hmm."

"Now, we'll keep everything aside, okay? Come to see us for a week." Her mum suggested, "it'll help clear up your mind, hmm?"

"Okay." YN agreed, sniffling, "I love you Mumma."

"Hmm. Now go to sleep." Her mum scolded her, "and I love you too."

"Mm bye." YN hung up her call and put her phone back on the night stand.

It was early morning for her mum. She felt bad for starting off her day with whining and crying and complaining. But she has been crying non-stop since midnight and it's now half past three in the morning for her. Her head was throbbing as her eyes burn from dried up tears. There is so much of crying one can do.

She didn't even know why she was crying, that was making her cry even more. Her whole body ached which just added to her misery.

Yeah, YN you're probably overreacting, just go to fucking sleep! - she scolded herself.

Just as she was about to go back to sleep, sinking deep into her fluffy blankets with her hood on, her phone started ringing. It was from Harry she noticed from the red heart emojis which were on either of his initial letter. She turned her phone to silent.

It was nine in the morning. She hadn't slept a blink. But when she finally was going to sleep, there was a knock on her door.

Contemplating she gave up just ignoring him for many reasons, he might make more noise and her neighbours would be mad, or he might sit there entire day and night, talk to her through the door because she lives in a studio flat and her bedroom is literally in her living room, he'd do anything but leave.

"Hey, YN it's me, Harry." She heard him through the door before his knuckles met the hardwood again.

Harry on the other side of the door, tried to knock on her door, hitting his knuckles again on the door.

YN somehow managed to pull herself put of her bed. All she wanted to do was be miserable on her weekend before she could continue to be miserable back home for a couple of weeks. But here Harry was, knocking her door. Wrapping her fluffy blanket around her, she went to check on the door.

"Hi," Harry sighed in relief seeing her finally. "I, I wanna talk to you, cam I come in please?"

She just stepped aside to let her in. Right away he noticed her flat was pitch dark, with the light blocking curtains still closed up. He also noticed how red, puffy and swollen her eyes her, eyelashes still wet from tears.

YN just wanted to sleep in compensation of what she missed at night. That's all.

"YN-"

"Did I left out something to return?" She was already ready to sift through her boxes which were meant to shipped back home but she never got to take of those, so now half of them shoved into her closet and piled up in a corner.

"No, no— what, what are these boxes for?" Harry stuttered seeing all the boxes. She just shrugged for his dismay. "Came over to check up on you. You alright?"

Does her puffy, red eyes, runny nose and rosy cheeks look look alright to you, Harry? He thought to himself. He also noticed a big pile of laundry eating up her laundry basket by the bathroom door. She did not liked to leave dirty clothes piled up like that, whenever he was over, her washer in the kitchen was always running with something or other. Her electricity bill was mostly from running her washer, he wondered.

"YN!" He sighed and grabbed her hand to drag her to the bed, he made her sit there and found a place for himself on the floor in front of her. "YN, I'm so, so, so sorry, my love!" He proceeded to lace his fingers through hers because she let him as she stared right back at him. "I can't tell you how sorry I am for not seeing through it all. Everyone knew, even Dotty knew and I didn't. I'm so fucking sorry!"

He was referring to the conversation he heard of YN and Elodie. His ex took advantage of everyone. It wasn't fair.

Only if, he wasn't stupid and dumb and blind and dickhead it would have all been so fucking different! Only if!

"It took me six long weeks to come and apologise. I don't want to ruin anything between us. I don't want to loose you as my bestest friend!" He sniffled, "I know I've already ruined everything but please consider giving me another chance, please!" He looked up ather with his puppy eyes brimmed up with tears threatening to escape.

YN hasn't said a word since she opened the door for him. There is no use in ruining her friendship with him. Yeah, he went on and dated the person once she called her best friend — well, it was her fault to even consider a shitty person like Elodie a best friend — but he was her only friend. She have gone through being only his friend but was it worth it?

Was it worth it? Of course there were many different factors contributing to her low time now which is making her depressed. It was winter, her seasonal dipression was already kicking in, although she wouldn't say she's depressed. She's just sad.

She wants to be sad.

No one qas letting her be sad in peace. Not her mum. Not her brother. Not her Boss. No even herself.

"I don't know what to say." Is all she said. And that made him fall in silence as well. His shoulders slumped as a puff of air sighed through his nose.

Harry didn't know how he felt, truly. He had been worse. He had just managed to pull himself back from falling into his drinking habits. He had managed to keep his hands away from his favourite vodka for a week, to clear his mind and think straight. All he did was sleep all day if he was not being asked to work.

Right, asked to work. He had no motivation to work. His head was empty.

"I'm so sorry for what she did." He broke the silence. "I'm so sorry for not listening to you."

"Hmm." She sounded, accepting his apology.

Well, it felt so good to accept an apology for what it is rather than just waving it off and giving it a label of "it's okay".

The room fell into deep silence again. An awkward one this time. Before Harry spoke again here. "So, am I invited to the wedding?"

Give him a break please. He's been suffering too!

Whilst he knew thay was probably not the right time to invite himself to her alleged wedding, he was just trying to snip the thread of awkwardness in the air which was coming to his throat.

"I'm, I'm not... getting married." She shrugged taking in a long break.

"What, what are these boxes for then? Thought you were going back..." He stopped there. He was falling straight into his typical behaviour with her, he knows he needs to earn for his apology to be truly accepted.

"Yeah. I am. I am going back." She admitted.

Well, she'll be back after her vacation is over, which is for less than a six week. But still she would be working from home back home. She just hadn't had the energy to unpack her clothes from the boxes, and her pots and pans were laying homeless all around the kitchen.

A part of her didn't wanted to tell Harry about it though. Not at least until he's all riled up in anxiousness and panicking.

Cruel. Yeah, she knew.

"What? Why?"

And like she expected he panicked, so she just shrugged.

"YN!" He sighed, "why? You said you're bever going back."

She was partially joking all the times she have told him that. YN decided to stay quiet again there.

"Okay." He nodded. "I'm really sorry. Really very sorry."

"I know."

"Okay." He nodded again, keeping his head down. "Do you want me to make you breakfast?"

"No."

"Okay." He sighed again.

"You know Harry?"

"What?" He lifted his head to look at her, found her getting comfy in her bed by the missing head board on her single bed.

"I'm so glad you came to terms with everything with Elodie and now you know why I'm no longer friends with her." She spoke, her voice was dry, nasally and hoarse from crying so much. "I've always had bad luck with friends I guess and I continue to do so. Thought you'd not be like everyone else. I was proven wrong the moment you told me you're seeing my best friend. Well, best friend back then. While all the time I have been very obvious about my own feelings towards you being more. Still, letting it go was the best thing I could do, but I'll admit it that I always felt happy each and every time you came to me and told me you're done with her. I'd gather up everything in me to finally, finally go upto you and tell you everything but I just couldn't. And it hurt so fucking much, hearing you be so freaking heartbroken pouring your heart out to me for you to just to get back with her. I'm do not want to sit here and hear another break down just for you to go and dump everything in gutter. And for you to tell me you reciprocated the same feelings for me. I can't bring myself to trust you on this."

Platonic heartbreaks hurt like a bitch if not more than a romantic break up. And YN couldn't bring herself to tell him everything just because Elodie qas once her friend. Doesn't matter they were no longer friends. It all went against her morals. And he never trusted her as a friend when she told him about his now-ex cheating on him shamelessly, without any remorse.

"I don't know if I just want to take your sorry and tell you it's okay, because it's not. To me it's not. It still hurts. I forgive you but it's not okay." She concluded her little confession. All Harry could do was sit there and process everything she said to him.

"I know. I know it's not okay, YN. I just... don't want to ruin it with you. I know I should have said that, not atleast now. But you're my best friend. My only best friend!" Now he could see his vision getting blurry with tears brimming up in his eyes, as he choked and stumbled on his words. "I swear I'll never talk about yet another break down of mine. I just don't want to loose you as a friend, YN. You're my rock!"

"Don't you think it's going be harder to stay friends after all of this?" YN asked. She felt a sting in her heart seeing his teary eyes. She barely falling for it though.

"And don't you think it's going to be better to be friends especially when we know how we feel about each other?" He counter questioned her, just to to get a dry and blunt answer from her.

"Nope." She shook her head, "I can't trust you or anyone for the matter of fact." And Harry's head dropped again as a few tears fell onto the fabric of his grey sweats on his thighs. "I need time."

"You promise we'll reconciliate?" He asked. "As only friends."

"I don't know."

"Please."

YN truly needed time to think about everything, get herself together. That's why she was going to take a break.

"I'm not going to promise anything to you, Harry. Really. I'm going back home for six weeks and we'll talk about it after—"

"Alright." He agreed in a heartbeat cutting YN midway.

"Alright."

"Can I hug you?"

"Mhmm." She agreed. Least to say he was just way too eager to hug her finally, nuzzled his face in her neck.

......................................................................

N O T E :

Hope y'all liked it, this was requested on Tumblr ages ago.

There won't e a part two to this one, hence why I left an open ending.

Ik the character of Vihaan should be explored more here but quite frankly I didn't know where to take that character so I left it there.

Please, please leave a comment about how you liked it and what you think about my writing. Reviews are great encouragement to write more. <3

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @japanchrry @onlyangelrain @originalsoulcollector @harrysgirl-1d

Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

[live-laugh-lenney]

Here for something with Mr Lenney pls🙏🏼

Spent the evening binging his react to Love Island vids and now just wanna be sat in the sun on holiday with him. Maybe a group holiday with other YouTube lads and they’re all single so it’s reader on a lads holiday essentially but Will does little things like making her breakfast, taking her on little dates away from the lads (particularly if their all hungover from partying the night before), napping together before getting ready for dinner (also together). Idk that’s all just suggestions, I just want Will on holiday, by the ocean and in the sun so I can fulfill my willne and moana dreams at once so do anything you like with that!! ☀️🌺🥥

ohhh, that's so cuteeee! this is definitely someting we can talk more on! the scenario of the boys being on holiday, in any of the stories, has me weak.

she considers herself 'one of the lads'.

the lads consider her as 'one of the lads'.

whenever they hang out, they always made sure to invite her so she didn't feel left out and they always made her feel welcomed into the group by including her in conversations, letting her partake in any of their silly drinking games that they played, and they let their softer side to come out when teasing her - no horrid nicknames that made her feel small or belittled, no taking the piss out of her when she did something or said something that they found funny, no singling her out for their own humour and for the benefit of their out laughter. she was like a little sister to them; and she always felt comfortable and safe around them.

so, of course she was going to be invited to their annual trip abroad.

much to her excitement... and much to will's liking.

four months is how long they'd been secretly 'seeing' each other.

they weren't scared of what their friends would say about them being a couple... if anything, they'd be over the moon knowing that their two friends were finding happiness with each other. they just enjoyed the secrecy of no one having a clue that they were spending time together, alone, on the days that they'd not all hang out together.

sending silly and flirtatious texts every so often when they missed the other, staying over at each other's flats most nights of the week and spending their days off together, going on secret dates in the parts of london they knew they'd never get seen, and keeping calm and very collected when they were out together to not give anything away.

wedged between calfreezy and chip on the flight to croatia, because cal had insisted he had the aisle seat so he could stretch out his legs and chip hadn't been willing to sit anywhere but in the window seat... as much as she wished she was sat beside will, who was in the row of seats to her right and squeezed in between harry and chris, she was happy to have had some peace and quiet and some time away from the geordie accent she'd been listening to for the last twenty-four hours. having stayed at his place the night before they were due to fly from heathrow airport, the two of them insisting it was easier to get picked up from the same place and go together opposed to her being a solo traveler to meet the rest of them at the airport since she lived the furthest away... although, that's what they told the boys... which they were surprised they'd understood as a valid reason.

reev and callux, and theo baker in the middle of them, were sat in the row behind her and she could hear them either talking to a camera as they vlogged their trip away or informing their instagram followers on how they'd pulled the short straw in sitting next to theo for the next few hours. much to her amusement.

once they landed, heading straight to the villa that they'd rented for the next ten days, the lot of them were eager to get settled in before heading out to find a supermarket for their necessities and to scope out the local bars and restaurants that they were going to spend their nights in. all yn wanted was a shower, and her cleansing products, as the plane air felt sticky and gross on her skin.

with their rooms dibsed by the time they walked through the front door, their suitcases and bags thrown on the beds to claim them as their own, it didn't take long for the boys to ready themselves with a spray of their deodorant and a spritz of aftershave and a splash of water to their faces to clear the sweat building from the humidity.

much to yn's appreciation, who wanted the shower first.

she stood in her room once she was feeling fresh, having stood under the shower head from a couple of minutes so she felt cooler and a lot more cleaner, air drying as she rummaged through her suitcase for a more suitable outfit for taking a walk in the twenty-degree heat.

"just give us a text when you're ready. we'll go find a good lunch spot. i think we're all starving," calfreezy's voice echoed around the empty villa and yn couldn't help but pinch her brows together in confusion as to who he was speaking to, "no going to sleep for six hours. the jetlag is nothing."

"you have my word."

it was will's voice that echoed back and there was a tingle in her belly that made her feel weak at the knees. and when the door closed, the voices of the guys trailing off in the distance as they made their way down the main road outside their villa, it wasn't long before she heard his footsteps rushing up the stairs. his shoes scuffing the cool and tiled floor which lined every room in the house.

"what do you reckon? an hour to ourselves before they get suspicious of us?" will questions as he steps foot around the door to her room and sees her standing in her towel, "was hoping to hop in with you, save water and all that."

"you snooze, you lose," yn grins cheekily at him and he rolls his eyes in a dramatised fashion, "i was fine meeting you guys in the town, you know? it's not that far of a walk for me to do by myself in daylight."

"i know but i wanted to keep you company here," he perches himself down on the edge of her bed and watches as she pulls out different articles of clothing to see if they went together, "fancy going out for dinner one night this week? me and you?"

"won't the guys get a bit suspicious if we go off together?"

"i don't really care," he admits and she glances at him, "what?"

"nothing, i just," she sighs softly and sets a pair of denim shorts and a cropped white t-shirt on her bed, pairing it with an oversized shirt that was decorated with stripes that she was going to wear over the top and knot at the front, "i like the sneaking around. the enjoyment and the excitement of almost being caught. all that goes out of the window when they know."

"but we could kiss and hold hands in public," he reminds her and she drops the towel to her feet, her underwear already clinging to her skin having done that when she got out the shower, "we could be a proper couple."

"are we not now?"

"of course we are," he laughs softly, "but i get to show you off. i get to bat away the boys who stare at you and not sit back and get jealous because we have to pretend not to have any feelings whatsoever. i get to brag about you."

the room is filled with silence as she slips her clothes on and finishes off getting ready, pairing her outfit with a pair of nike socks and her comfortable white trainers, but she can't ignore the eyes that watch her from her bed.

"the last night," she suggests, "we'll find a place, we'll dine, we'll wine and we'll come clean to the boys."

"yeah?"

"yeah," she nods and he grins widely, standing to his feet and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "if they find out before then they find out before but... yeah, the last night of our holiday should go out with a bang."

"a bang i can get behind," he smirks and she smacks his arm playfully with the palm of her hand, "i'm sorry, i'm sorry." xx

[archiveikemen]

『 Villain's Night 』 Story Event: Chapter 1

Jude Jazza

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

Costumed Young Man: You’re so cold… didn't you hear me say trick or treat?

Kate: … I’m waiting for someone.

Costumed Young Man: If you don't want a treat, then I’ll have to play a trick on you.

(H-He’s creepy…)

Jude told Ellis to buy some things, and so we went to the bustling town where some Halloween festivities were happening.

While waiting outside a store for Ellis, I was pestered by a young man wearing a costume.

(I’ll be separated from Ellis if I leave this spot…)

(Then it’ll defeat the whole purpose of me coming along to help carry the shopping bags… how do I shake this person off me?)

Costumed Young Man: Hey, are you ignoring me?

Kate: ? Let go of me…!

The young man grabbed my wrist, yelling and glaring at me. At that moment—

???: You're awful and choosing the men you throw yourself at.

Costumed Young Man: What?

(... This voice.)

Someone pulled me backwards by my shoulder, and I turned around to see Jude standing there.

Jude: You feeling (sexually) frustrated?

Kate: No…! This person has been pestering me and refuses to leave me alone, that’s all.

Jude: Oh?

Costumed Young Man: Eep!

A brief glance from Jude was enough to make the young man sense danger, and he fled with a cowardly cry.

Kate: … Thank you for saving me.

Jude: You were standing there defenselessly like an idiot.

Jude: As a former postwoman, you should know that there would be such fools going around being festive on Halloween.

I turned my gaze toward the lively streets of London, and Jude took his hand off my shoulder.

The spot he touched felt cold, my eyes instinctively followed his hand as he pulled away.

He was fundamentally an unfeeling and sadistic man, but he would sometimes do something like that, and they never fail to make me nearly lose my composure.

Jude: It honestly baffles me that you’ve lived this long unscathed.

Kate: … I would've bit him and escaped if I had to.

Jude: Oh really? What bravery.

Jude: However… I saved you this time, so you owe me one.

Kate: !? I’ll repay you right now, I’ll do it immediately!

(I have to propose a suitable compensation before he demands something utterly outrageous!)

(What would be good… confectionery? Nope, bad idea. He might label me as “one of those fools going around being festive about Halloween” and flat out reject them.)

(Hmm…. let me think…)

Jude: Seeing as you're wrecking that pea brain of yours, I’ll tell you what I want as compensation.

Kate: Huh…!?

Jude: Don’t roam around aimlessly tonight, be obedient and stay in your own room at the castle.

Jude: I’ll let you off if you can promise me to do that.

Kate: … You’re fine with just that?

Jude: You want something more extreme?

Kate: NO! Okay, I promise.

Ellis: I kept you waiting, Kate. Sorry, I took quite a while because the shop was crowded…

Ellis: Jude? Are you done with work already?

Jude: I wouldn't be standing here if I wasn't.

(He went to work today too, even though it's a holiday. He’s really always so busy…)

On top of having to complete missions as a member of Crown, he also had work at his trading company… I couldn't help but admire how he was capable of shouldering that heavy workload.

(He doesn't like his job… and he’s not a huge spender who splurges excessively on luxury.)

(I wonder what his reason for working this hard is…?)

…

In the end, Ellis only gave me the lightest bag out of everything he bought, and the three of us returned to Crown’s castle.

Victor: Happy Halloween! What do you think of the splendid decorations in the dining hall?

Alfons: What wonderful decorations! They make me want to ask, who put them up?

Victor: Yes, yes, I shall not keep it a secret. These were put up by yours truly!

Kate: Wow! As expected from Victor!

Ellis: *clap clap clap* 😐

Jude: …

Kate: Jude, could you please at least comment something…

Alfons dragged me into the dining hall the very moment I stepped foot into it, and I was amazed by the extravagant decorations.

Victor wore a satisfied grin, unbothered by the lacklustre reactions.

Victor: Hmm, Ellis and Kate’s kindness, Jude’s icy stare…

Victor: My cursed ones and fairytale writer are functioning normally today!

Victor: … But that’s only for while the sun is still up. I’ve already said this to Alfons.

Victor: Ellis and Jude should be careful tonight too.

Jude: I don't have the time to be chit chatting with a weirdo.

Jude dodged the topic and left.

Kate: … Is there something happening at night?

Alfons: Fufu, I guess we could call it a strange thing about curses.

Alfons: Once every few years, when there's a full moon on Halloween night, the “sinfulness” of people born with curses intensifies.

Victor: At the same time, the Nightblooms (actual name: Dutchman’s Pipe Cactus or Epiphyllum oxypetalum) in the palace will be in full bloom, thus this phenomenon is known as the “Night of The Nightblooms”. Based on what I know, the last time it happened was 20 years ago.

Kate: What do you mean by intensifying “sinfulness”...?

Alfons: Cursed people have certain traits, yes?

Alfons: For example, William’s traits are “self-righteousness” and “condemnation”. As for Jude’s… “ruthless”, “haughty”, and “vengeful”.

Alfons: I think it's not wrong to say that these traits will become stronger tonight.

Kate: Does that mean that Jude will become more ruthless, haughty, and vengeful than he already is now…?

Victor: That’s right. As for the cursed person, they find it harder to control themselves… something like that.

Victor: It’s a dangerous night for both the cursed person and the people around them.

(It’s dangerous even for the cursed person…)

Alfons: And despite knowing that, it looks like Jude has plans to go somewhere dangerous tonight.

Kate: Somewhere dangerous?

Alfons: Yeah. Roger told me about Jude’s plans for tonight.

Alfons: Have you heard of the illegal way of gambling called “Duel Gambling” which involves killing each other?

Kate: N-No…!

Alfons: There's word going around that the man who embezzled money from Jude’s trading company has been squandering the stolen money there.

Alfons: Sad to say that the little rascal has already died a rather nasty death.

Alfons: It seems that Jude wants to put the screw on that gambling establishment and take all of their money.

Alfons: It’s chilling to think about the possibility of bloody violence.

Kate: Going to such a place on a day like this makes it even more dangerous…

Alfons: Doesn't it? But that’s the perfect place for someone who loves money and the misfortune of others to be at, don't you think?

Alfons: He might get himself arrested or even killed if he goes too far, but… well, he’ll be alright.

(Wha… that won’t be good.)

Kate: He’s already working so hard at his job and completing missions for Crown… he doesn't seem to be in need of money.

Alfons: Could it be because of the “vengeful” trait his curse gives him?

Alfons: He will never be satisfied until he gets back what has been taken from him, and never forgive a broken promise until he's taken revenge.

Ellis: Also… Jude needs a lot of money and manpower to achieve his goal, I guess?

Kate: His goal…?

Ellis: He made a promise to someone in the past.

Kate: Is it something that can be done with money?

Ellis: It’s said that it is 99.9% impossible.

(What…?)

(For that 0.1% chance… he’s making himself this busy and even risking his life?)

Ellis: … Anyway, because Duel Gambling is illegal, the other party has to back down no matter what. He said that he’ll take back twice the amount of money he lost, and that tonight’s the best time.

Kate: Will you be going with him?

Ellis: I… I’ll be staying in my room tonight, I guess.

Ellis: Because I don’t know what will happen to me tonight… :)

Kate: … I-I see… you’re right.

Victor: … None of the cursed people in the castle can help tonight, Kate.

(So Jude might… die alone… in some unknown place…)

Alfons: You look worried about him. Why not go see for yourself what’s going on?

Kate: … I promised him that I’ll be good and stay in the castle tonight.

Alfons: Haha! As long as he doesn't catch you, it won't count as breaking the promise.

Kate: … Please don’t tempt me. A promise is a promise, and it should never be broken.

Alfons: Fufu, that’s too bad. I forgot how upright and serious you are.

Alfons: I’ll lend this to you in case you have a change of mind.

Alfons: You’ll only be allowed to enter that gambling den today if you’re dressed up.

Alfons whispered in my ear and handed some items to me — a pair of cat ears and a tail that looked very questionable.

Kate: … How do I put this tail on…?

Alfons: You can’t tell just by looking at its shape? This part goes inside you—

Kate: T-Take them back…!

Alfons: I’m not accepting returns ^-^

Alfons stuffed them into my pocket and left in a good mood.

I couldn't bring myself to touch those items, so I left them untouched in my pocket.

(I- I’ll get rid of them when I’m changing my clothes…)

(I want to keep the promise I made to Jude.)

(But…)

As much as I knew that I was being unnecessarily worried, I couldn't help being curious about what happens on “Night of The Nightblooms”.

…

I walked to the palace garden.

(This is the garden where the Nightblooms are. They’re still buds at the moment…)

(When they bloom together… it must be a very beautiful sight.)

Unmistakably — beautiful enough to drive people insane.

???: My… is that a little robin lost in a garden full of Nightblooms?

Kate: William…

William: Have the flowers driven you mad yet?

Kate: No… I just learnt about the Night of The Nightblooms a while ago — I got curious about them.

William: — The troubled look on your face tells me that what you're feeling is more than pure curiosity.

Kate: I promised Jude this morning that I’ll stay in my room at the castle tonight. But…

Kate: I think he’s deliberately trying to keep me out of harm’s way, because he knows about Night of The Nightblooms.

Kate: The promise was supposed to be a means for me to repay what I owe him, and yet I’m being protected by him again…

Kate: I feel like I’m not doing anything to repay him at all.

William: … Fufufu. You’re a sincere little robin. By the way, Kate.

Kate: Yes…?

William: Trick or Treat?

Kate: !? Sorry, I don't have anything with me right now.

William: I know. I only said that to justify my act of mischief.

Kate: Huh…?

William: Perhaps because the sun is setting — I’m feeling slightly more selfish than usual.

William: “Tonight, do as your desires tell you to”

Kate: …!?

William: This is the place Jude went to. You can go look for him if you’d like.

My hand moved on its own to receive the memo William held out, like a magnet being attracted to metal.

Kate: W-Whoa… William, this is…!?

On top of that, my feet seemed to have also gained a mind of their own and carried me towards the garden’s exit.

(I… Am I headed towards where Jude is!?)

William: Go ahead, Kate.

William: — I hope you have the most sinful Halloween you’ve ever experienced in your lifetime.

[listerbirdloml]

this was probably from ages ago but some fun asks for you; favorite lister headcannons? [I]

OOH idk man i’m shit at head cannons ALSO THIS WAS SAT IN MY DRAFTS FOR AGES IM SO SORRY I THOUGHT I POSTED IT

- well in my mind i always read him with a northern english accent and i’m not sure why. i know he’s from kent like Rowan + Jimmy but he just gives off northern vibes idk. and after learning that his dads scottish i can also see him using lots of Scottish slang terms.

- i think he’s a slag for a bit of pop too. Britney, Ariana, Taylor, Reneé, you name it. he gets a bit embarrassed though so he turns off his AirBuds when he wants to listen to girly pop music. he has the widest music taste out of the ark, so his Spotify wrapped is always mental. he posts them every year and not once has the same song appeared in his top listened to

- ik he’s not like blonde blonde but i think his natural hair is a lot darker but he’s been dying it blonder since he first met Jimmy and Rowan. when the ark are on hiatus he lets it grow out to his natural colour for a bit.

- he tried to grow a stache one time but Rowan shaved it while he slept. Also he didn’t know how to shave when he first met Jimmy and Rowan, so Pierro taught him. Pierro also taught him how to tie a real tie rather than use a clip on one.

- Joan LOVED lister. she would always fuss over him when he would come over. When he’d come round he would help her in the garden, but really he was terrible and Joan would always have to fix his mistakes. when he told her about how he and his mum would listen to albums together when he was little, she began showing him her collection of old records from when she was a teen/young adult. when she died she left Lister a few of his favourites. Lister keeps them hidden at all times so when he was hosting parties there was no chance they’d get damaged. after they stopped having so many people over Lister kept them displayed in the living room.

- i think that before he and Jimmy got together he had healthy and fun relationship with someone unrelated. it’s not anything ridiculously serious but it helps him see what he should realistically be looking for and what he deserves. it’s not like he’s using the person though, and he actually really likes them. they eventually end things amicably though, and stay good friends.

- it says on the WIKI article alice wrote for him that he has three half siblings. as far as i can think there’s no canon information about them other than that, so i like to HC that they are all from his dads second marriage and they don’t talk much since Lister hasn’t been to visit his dad in years. the ages are;

1.) Lister (19-20)

2.) a sister who’s like 17ish, she’s super embarrassed about the whole ark thing and is reluctant to rebuild a relationship with him again when he reaches out to her post IWBFT, because she remembers how he used to constantly fight with their dad when he’d come over for christmas / two weeks in the summer holidays. when they do start to reconnect and get closer she helps him bond with their dad too. (maybe she’s called Maya?)

3.) a younger brother who’s 13ish and a total TWAT. they look really similar and he’s just like how Lister was in school but he’s hilarious and really admires Lister. somehow he’s stupid smart though, even if he’s class clown. i think he reaches out to Lister when he’s still in the hospital after the incident. i also think it would be funny if the younger brother’s celebrity crush was Jimmy but his image of jimmy is completely shattered when he meets him properly. (i call him Brodie in my head)

4.) his youngest sister who’s like 7 who barely remembers lister but once they get closer she has him wrapped around her little finger. he almost bought her a horse once but Jimmy and Rowan had to remind him that a 7 year old who lives in a city centre can not logistically look after a whole horse. (i think her names Eilidh)

- the ark move from the flat into a house just outside london and he makes sure they all have a room so they can visit whenever they want to.

- after getting to know them better, he gets really close with Angel and Juliet. the three of them and Bliss have “girls” nights in the arks flat. when Listers hair grows they teach him how to pleat it. he gets really good and when he starts seeing his half siblings again he pleats his sisters hair for them)

sorry idk man i yapped a bit 🤷‍♀️

[thelarriefics]

STRANGERS TO LOVERS FIC REC, Part II: Below you will find more fics that have Harry and Louis barely knowing one another before intimacy. (Part I)

📖 Let Your Heart Be Light by @cyantific (77k)

Louis Tomlinson, a self-proclaimed holiday-hater, loses his job two weeks before Christmas. Broke and desperate to see his family back home in England, he takes the only job left at the mall as one of Santa’s helpers. Harry is an unconventional mall Santa, the youngest one they’ve had in years, but with as much holiday spirit as any other seasoned Saint Nick. He’s determined to un-Grinch the new guy in Santa’s Village if it takes until Christmas, then he finds out the devastating reason Louis has lost his Christmas cheer. Will Harry be just the thing Louis needs to help him get his sparkle back?

Featuring Liam as the manager at Santa's Village, Niall as an easy-going Irish elf and Harry's best friend, grumpy Grinch Louis and his best friend Zayn and one matchmaking Mrs. Claus.

📖 where the tide takes you, i will follow by @pinkcords (53k)

There’s no way around his departure, their inevitable fate. Harry will leave and he will return to London and when he sits in his new flat, wherever it might be, he will think of this summer and the warmth the sun brought him and the way it felt to be loved. He will compare all his future relationships to Louis and when they fall short, he will be disappointed. Harry knows this.

Or, Louis lives in Gloucester and Harry tries to find a way to stay.

📖 You're The Christmas Wonder, That Makes Me A Believer by @lousluv91 (44k)

There were two things that every person in Louis Tomlinson's life knew for sure.

First, he was a perfectionist. A hard-working person, a caretaker who took his responsibilities seriously and often appeared to be kind of intimidating. Though those he trusted also knew his very soft and loving side.

The other thing they all knew was that Louis hated Christmas.

or the one where Louis is a grinch and Harry teaches him to love Christmas. Maybe Louis falls in love with more than just the holidays.

📖 Purring In My Lap (The Kitty Fic) by @yoursolosong (40k)

Louis and Harry are two strangers who find an abandoned kitten at the same time and argue over who's going to keep it. Begrudgingly, they decide to co- parent because they're both stubborn and don't trust the other to take proper care of the kitty.

📖 now you're in my life (I can't get you off my mind) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (32k)

In reality, it’s a little different. Because as much as Harry loves the concept of dating, the reality sucks.

📖 Ding-Dong! Daybreak by @thinlinez (28k)

All it took was a flat bike tire, confusing usernames, pumpkin flavored biscuits, a chaotically supportive dog and food deliveries at daybreak for Omega Louis to fall hard.

📖 Sweet as Honey by @teamlouis2023 (21k)

Louis has always been shit at cooking. When he discovers Sweet as Honey on Instagram, owned by chef Harry Styles, he intends to mock him by recreating his recipes with his awful skills, posting photos on his own Instagram account, Nailed It. It's all fun until Harry asks to meet him.

📖 I Just Want To Start a Flame in your Heart by @peachbootylouis (21k)

Harry’s impending album release meant promo season was in full swing. While at an industry party with his manager, a harp player catches his eye and Harry is instantly bewitched.

📖 Checking Them Out?: How To Use Your Library Science Degree To Get an Alpha by @insightfulinsomniac (20k)

When a flirty, attractive alpha patron checks out an entire shelf of literature on omega behavior and omega rights, Harry can’t help but wonder why the man is so interested — is he a really attentive partner, or is he just a creep?

It doesn’t help that this alpha visits weekly to exchange his books… and that he smells absolutely divine.

Whether he likes it or not, Harry has a crush.

📖 lucky me, lucky you by @sun-lt (17k)

He wants to let Louis have that—have him, on his knees, easy and good and willing—badly.

📖 Be Mine? by @softfonds (11k)

Getting dumped the week before Valentine's Day wasn't in Harry's plans, and neither was being dragged to a concert to forget about it. But a sign Zayn brings manages to turn his night around in more ways than he hoped for.

📖 i need something, so tell me something new by @alwaysxlarrie (10k)

Louis goes on vacation to New York City to enjoy the good weather and good food - he even has a list of restaurants he wants to eat at. Much to his delight, his first restaurant stop includes a gorgeous curly boy and his nosy but supportive best friend. Maybe he'll get more than what he came here for.

📖 Wait by the Light of the Moon by @jaerie (5k)

Being a single parent of a newborn was not in Harry's plan. He can barely keep himself together doing everything on his own. He can't explain why he finds comfort in his neighbour next door, but apparently it's mutual.

📖 Get Nesting & Soft Knots by @pocketsunshineharry (5k)

AU where Omega Louis who runs a nesting materials Youtube channel meets Alpha Harry who knits his own blankets

📖 Perfect, For Now by @parmahamlarrie (4k)

Moving to a new city is always hard, being away from home, finding your new community - none of it is easy. Dealing with all of this while being touch deprived is even more difficult.

That is where omega Harry Styles finds himself a few months into his move to Brighton.

Then a mysterious alpha's scent enters his life, and he finds that he can't stay away.

📖 Unplant by @hellolovers13 (4k)

Louis should've looked where he was going, then he wouldn't have to desperately try to save a little flower now.

📖 She is Beauty, We are World Class by @exquisitelycloseted (3k)

A 70's London AU where Louis loses himself, and Harry finds him before he gets lost.

📖 Netflix Original by @allwaswell16 (1k)

Harry's hot neighbor overhears that he doesn't have Netflix.

[thestarkerisobvious]

Saltburn - A Starker Story (With Footnotes)

This is a spoiler-free story, starring Starker, with amazing art by @mrstarksbaby Enjoy.

Peter’s father has a title.(1)  Peter’s family lives in a castle.(2)

Throughout Oxford(3), that is what people say about him.  The first thing they say about him.  Sometimes the only thing they say about him.  His father has a title.  His family lives in a castle.  What else would you need to know?

Unless, of course, you talked to Peter.  Then you would find out a few more things.

Like how his mother had been a ridiculously famous groupie, knowing all the bands that had been hot in London in the 90’s, to the point that she had songs written about her(4).  Like how his father would throw lavish parties for almost-strangers, just to give him an excuse to wear his family’s armor.  Like how his parents were so comically out-of-touch with the real world they had once asked him “where Liverpool was located.”(5)

He would also tell you about the many other people that lived at Saltburn.  And, if you were VERY special, he might tell you about Mr. Stark.

Mr. Stark was an employee of the family, but in many ways he was a family friend as well.  It was often that way when people worked together for decades.  Peter’s father trusted Mr. Stark with his life, and with Peter’s life as well.  Technically Mr. Stark's title was “Head Butler.”  Which is why the family called him “Anthony.”  It was customary for the royalty to call the help by their first name, and the help to call the family by their last name.  Only Peter insisted, even as an adult, on calling the trusted man “Mr. Stark.”  It sounded overly formal, but it was completely the opposite.  Peter trusted Mr. Stark more than any other human being on earth.(6)

And with good reason.  It was Mr. Stark that saw that Peter wasn’t doing well at school, not because of his title, but because of his brain.  It was Mr. Stark that convinced the family that Peter SHOULD graduate a year early - that the challenge of the extra coursework would help Peter thrive where he had been floundering.  It was Mr. Stark who convinced the family to let Peter take a math track,(7) rather than try to fulfill any vague artistic dreams his mother once had for him.  Yes, the boy had the soul of a poet, but the mind of an engineer.  A mind that would be be so much happier with a practical degree.(8)  

And so Peter excels at school.  You should know that about him.  You should know that he went to Oxford a year early.  And that he loves every minute of his studies. (9)

But not of going to university.  Peter is a real brain, and a complete softy, but no one ever sees that.  His cousin MJ never lets him forget, or lets anyone forget, that he has a title and lives in a castle.  Peter MUST be a careless snobby playboy partier because everyone in the upper-upper-crust crowd is a careless snobby playboy partier and Peter, well, Peter fits in with everyone in the upper-upper-crust.   (But that’s not really who Peter is.  Peter is a dreamer.  An artist.   A photographer.  But only Mr. Stark knows that about Peter.  Only he encourages it.)

Peter is not happy at Oxford. (10)

Enter Quentin. (11)

Quentin seems to be everywhere for Peter.  (12)  There when Peter gets a flat tire while biking (13) to school.  There when Peter needs a real conversation (14) while all his friends were doing shots.  There when Peter needs someone to answer the question “Tell me about yourself.”

And so the year at Oxford goes on.  Things are good.  Quentin makes a good mate and Peter makes good marks and MJ doesn’t get too toxic when Peter doesn’t spend his every weekend partying with her friends.  And Peter keeps Tony updated about everything and looks forward to break. (15)

But as the year comes to a close, tragedy strikes.  Quentin’s family seems to have imploded - but the solution seems simple!  Peter will simply invite Quen to Saltburn to stay the summer!  It seems like a great idea - to have his new friend at his side all summer.  And Peter is happy.  Happy that he can help Quen now, the same way Quen helped him in his time of need.  He’s thrilled!! His mother, as batty and clueless as she is, is thrilled!  His father is not bothered!  Even MJ, in her condescending muted way, seems to not-hate it…  

Everyone is happy!!!

Except Mr. Stark.

Peter can’t explain it.  But Mr. Stark is being odd.  Awful.  Mean.  Cold to Quen, hostile, even.  Peter can’t explain it.  Mr. Stark had always been wonderful to him… (16)

Quen is saying Mr. Stark hates him because he is the “common man.”  Not that kind of person that “belongs at Saltburn.”  Peter can’t stand the idea.  He “orders” Mr. Stark to “stop being so dreadful” to Quen.  Sometimes he acts like it’s a joke and laughs it off.  But mostly Peter just pretends it isn’t happening.  Quentin is his friend.  Quentin understands Peter.  That’s why Peter gave Quen the room next to him.

That’s why they were sharing a bathroom. (17)

Okay, the TRUTH is, Peter was really trying to seduce Quentin.  Only… he was bad at it. (18)

VERY bad at it.  As in… Quen seemed to be hitting on… MJ?! Only MJ wasn’t having it!?! Only they were like… a couple now?  Or something?!?!

Peter was NOT happy.

How could he be?

He thought his dream had just come true.  He has a FRIEND(19) at Saltburn.  A friend to spend the summer with.(20) A friend that MIGHT… just might… help him with his little problem. (21)

Except…

Except Mr. Stark does not like Quentin.  At all.  Keeps being cold to Quen.  Mean to Quen. Actively.   In ways that cannot be denied, cannot be ignored.  Seems to always be appearing in odd places, rarely giving the boys any time alone to themselves.  Keeps appearing at Quen’s shoulder saying cryptic, menacing things.  “People get lost at Saltburn”  Mr. Stark had said.  Whatever that meant.  And Peter didn’t know what to do. 

He had hoped this summer would turn out to be like a movie, like a Romantic Comedy, or at least like an 80’s Sex Romp.   But it is quickly shaping up to be a tragedy.  (22)

-------------------------------------------

footnotes below

-------------------------------------------

1  Sir.  Peter’s father is a knight.  With an actual suit of armor.

2  Saltburn

3  A college he did NOT choose for himself.  But going to Oxford was his only option.  It was Oxford or nothing, a shameful secret that Peter has always resented.  

4  See Common People, Pulp 

5  But if you ever said “But Peter, you’re so down-to-earth!” he would go on to explain the influence of his aunt and uncle.  Who lived, along with so many other family members, at Saltburn.  He would explain how his aunt and uncle in essence raised him while his mother continued to globetrot and hob-nob with the famous elite as if she had never had children, or even had married, at all.  He would explain how, when his uncle Ben died, his adulthood had really begun.  It was the first time Peter had taken a hard look around him and made some decisions.  Some decisions about who he wanted to be.

There was another man, an older man, who had a great deal of influence on Peter.  A man who had worked at Saltburn on and off for decades, appearing and reappearing in Peter’s life for as long as he could remember.  That man had taken up permanent residence at Saltburn the year Peter had graduated high school, and had given him the courage he had needed to make his own demands about how his college education would proceed.  Everyone in Peter’s life knew that Peter was going to Oxford if he went to college, but only Peter knew that it almost didn’t go to college at all.  But Peter had a secret - a man with a superpower.  A man who could help him.

6 Like the fact that Peter DID NOT LIKE GIRLS.  It was Mr. Stark (who Peter called Tony, but only in private.  Only behind closed doors) that convinced Peter it was a simple fact that he would be able to speak out loud in time.  Convinced Peter that his parents were so much more open minded about these issues than Peter realized (after all, Mr. Stark knew Peter’s parents well.)  It was Tony that Peter confessed his secret to first, as well as his plan.  To tell the world.  Eventually.  After a year or two at Oxford.   At least.

7  Because Tony KNOWS Peter.  Knows what he’s REALLY like.  What he REALLY likes. How he doubts himself.  Completely.  Constantly.  What he wants to be in life.  What he finds attractive in a man.  Yes, Tony knows everything.   

8  And would that be SO BAD??!!  To have a REAL job?  To be an engineer, or an inventor?  Or an innovator?  To have his own career, his own flat, his own life?  (He wouldn’t live alone, of course.  That would be too scary.  He would bring someone with him from Saltburn, of course.  Someone to live with him.  Someone he trusted.)

(Like Tony.)

9  Well, he loves STUDIES.  But class ends eventually.  You have to stop studying EVENTUALLY.  Put down the pencil.  Shut the book.  THAT'S when the problem begins - when the tightness begins - when the low-grade panic starts.  But Peter ALWAYS knows the cure for that - the balm for that.  THAT'S when he turns to his superhero.  That’s when he gets out a sharp pencil and a clean piece of paper.  And he starts to write  a letter to Tony.

10  SO WHY IS HE STILL AT OXFORD?!  WHY has he not run scared, run back home, run back to safety?  How can he find the strength to get out of bed every day?  To walk out of the door every day??  Because of Tony.  Because of his superhero.  That’s why.

Because Tony writes back.  Constantly.  Weekly.  Sometimes DAILY.  And - hell - let's just admit it - sometimes the letters are not enough and Peter CALLS HIM ON THE PHONE.  And Tony tells him it will be okay.  He can stay.  He can study.  And then Tony starts to ask Peter about his classes, and then they are talking about maths again, and then it's all okay.  Peter is okay.  Because school is a GOOD thing.  It is a hard thing, but Peter can do hard things.  And because, when break comes, Peter can see Tony again.

And when those phone calls last long into the dark night, well, no one needs to know about that.  About what happens after Peter says goodbye to Tony, after he hangs up the phone.  About what Peter dreams about at night.  About what Peter’s hands do in the darkness, while his ears still echo with the sound of Tony’s voice.  

11 …with his stupid soulful eyes and his stupid handsome face.  Peter doesn’t know if he wants to kiss him or punch him in his stupid beautiful face.

12  Really, it DID seem like Quentin was everywhere.  Now that Peter knew his name, he realized he had seen Quen just about everywhere at Oxford.  Funny how life throws you together sometimes.

13  Oh god, that flat tire.  Peter was nothing without his bicycle.  MJ and his mates would forever give him grief about it, but Peter didn’t drive.  He had always been a year younger than everyone, and now he was two years behind, and driving was something that had always been done for his parents, not something that his parents did.  But he had no fear, as long as he had his bike.

It would be different in the future, he knew.  Tony had assured him that driving an automobile was not the mystery his parents made it out to be.  Peter was smart (Tony said) and once Peter saw how it was done he would wonder why it had ever intimidated him.

Besides, Tony would teach him.

Just like Tony had taught him how to take care of his bike.  Taught him how to take it apart and put it back together again.  When you saw Tony in his official suit, you would never imagine what a “grease monkey” he had been in his youth.  In his private time he liked to tinker with cars.  Peter would never forget last summer when he had been allowed to sit in the spare garage and talk to Tony while Tony tinkered.  Never forget what Tony looked like with his arms almost bare, his biceps bulging, sweat caressing his brow.  Peter would remember that forever.

And Tony would actually teach Peter to drive, he was sure about it.  That had been a promise.  Peter thought about it often (mostly at night.)  How Tony had pulled him into a friendly hug, Tony smelling of sweat and oil and something else… something… sturdy.  Something strong.  As if the man were made out of iron.

That’s when Tony had hugged Peter hard, clapped him on the back, and said “I’m your man, Kid.”  

(He called Peter “Kid.”  He was the only one allowed to call Petter “Kid.”)

“I’m your man, Kid,” he had said.  Whispered, really.

“When you’re ready, I’ll teach you how to drive.  I’ll teach you anything you want.”

He let go of Peter then, clapping him on both shoulders one more time.  Letting his hands rest there for longer than a moment.

“When you’re ready.”

14  And while Quen could sometimes be invasive (sometimes annoyingly so) the man was a good conversationalist.  Peter could talk to him for hours.  And Quentin was well-read in all kinds of subjects.  Really, anything Peter had latched onto, anything that caught his interest for a week or two that semester, Quentin always knew a lot about it.  Whatever it was.  It was uncanny, really.

15   Although when Peter DOES get home there won’t be any more letters from Tony.  Which is funny, really.  Peter loves those letters.  Tony sometimes fills them with sketches of Saltburn - the towers or the gardens.  And sometimes with sketches of Peter.  “But I know what *I* look like - I see myself in the mirror every day” Peter complains.  “Send me pictures of YOU.”  And Tony does.  Sends a single sketch of himself.  In the sketch he is looking down.  Looking tired.  Looking a little guilty.  But Peter likes to imagine Tony is looking down at something that has his complete attention.  Something important. 

Something like… Peter.

Yes, Peter likes looking at that picture of Tony at night.  In the darkness.  And then when he touches himself, he imagines his hands are Tony’s hands.  Callused, but gentle.  Knowing.  But commanding as well…

16 …always gentle.  Always helpful.  Always honest.  Because that’s what Tony WAS to Peter… the man who would cut through the bullshit.  Cut through the pretension.  Tell him the truth.

17   Because… and this was STUPID but… but Peter had a fantasy.

In that fantasy, he was done with university.  He had his degree.  He had freed himself, finally, from his family.  And then, with his new career, with his new flat, with his new suit… he rang up Anthony.  

Took him out.  Took him on the town.  They went to a pub together, took in a show.  And then they talked.  Talked like men.  Talked like equals.

And then Peter took Tony home, and invited Tony into his bed.

As men.

As equals.

Only… only that’s where the fantasy abruptly ended.  Because there was exactly one problem.  

WHY would Tony go to bed with Peter if Peter was still a virgin??

And that’s where Quen came in.

Peter had a pesky problem, and he had set out to find another man to take care of that problem.  And Quentin was that man.  Peter had decided.  This would be the summer - the summer that Peter lost his v-card and became a man.  The kind of man that could take Tony Stark as a lover.

18  AND HOW COULD HE BE SO BAD AT IT?!?  He thought he had made it CLEAR to Quen that he was ready.  That he was just waiting for Q to make his move.  I mean, how more obvious could Peter be?!?  How many forehead kisses, blowing-kisses, and goodnight kisses, and jokes about oral sex, and late-night drinking games, would it take?  Peter was being obvious, wasn’t he?  He had given Q an adjoining bedroom.  He had all but invited Quen to watch him bathe.  He slept every night with his door open!  What more did Quen want?  An engraved invitation?? 

19 Okay maybe not so much “friend” as “boy I am using for one thing and one thing only” but hey.  Friends used Peter all the time.  And no matter what Quentin was, he certainly wasn’t hard to look at.

20  And it was going to be so perfect!  Peter had it all planned out - he would tell Q that he spent every summer sunbathing - just like they did in France - completely in the nude.  And then he and Quen would go shirtless and lay about on lawn furniture getting tanned.  Shirtless - and eventually more than that.  Peter had wanted so badly to do that last summer - and this time he would get up the nerve. To position himself outside the Great Hall window where Tony had his office.  To take off his shirt - and maybe more - where Tony would certainly look out and see him.  See his new, adult body.  Realize that Peter was a man, now.  A man to take seriously.  A man that might want another man in his bed…

21  And okay dammit this was a big problem because that meant that PETER WAS STILL A VIRGIN HOW WAS THIS STILL A THING?!?!?!?  Life was so damn unfair.

22  And, okay, maybe everyone is right.  Maybe Quen does NOT belong here.  Maybe everyone can see what Peter has been denying.  Maybe Q IS too eager to please.  Too eager to fit in.  A little too obvious, too clunky, with his manipulation.  But DAMMIT QUEN WAS JUST A MEANS TO AN END and Peter really REALLY can’t figure out WHY would Tony be mean to THIS particular classmate?!  Dammit Peter just wanted to get laid…

At the dock MJ had demanded to know what was going on with Peter.  Actually accused him of being in love with Quentin.  Which was ridiculous - he wasn’t even 100% he would call Quentin a friend.  Quentin was, at best, a study partner.  He had invited Quen to Saltburn because of all the things he was going through at home… come on Quen’s dad having just died and his mom being a mess and…

Oh all right, let's be honest.  He doesn’t even like Quentin that much.  He brought Quentin back here because he thought Quentin had the hots for him.  But in the end, Quentin is just one thing to Peter - a warm body.  A warm body with a stiff cock, which Peter needs.  

Because many things got “lost” at Saltburn, but…

… Peter’s virginity wasn’t going to get lost by itself.

[phoebe-delia]

Hello darling, happy Hanukkah! Would you maybe want to write something to do with... boots. Snowy, mud-covered, detailed with little stars, the world's your latkes. Or, if not: doorway? Windowsill. I don't know why they're all things in my immediate view. Erm... late to an appointment. Antlers!

Darling I just love you very much okay whatever you write at any time is the perfect thing. This whacky prompt or not, you're bringing us all so much light.

Robinnnnn oh my sweetest love I absolutely positively adore you. Thank you for the prompt, and also for being in my life, and for being the absolute best. Here's something sweet and cozy just for you. @rockingrobin69

Here's to Us

Two pairs of worn boots are drying on a towel next to the door. Draco insists that drying charms ruin the faux dragon hide, and Harry refuses to spend money on a boot-drying rack, so this is their compromise. It also secretly makes Draco a little oddly giddy when he sees them; even their shoes belong together.

The two of them lying in front of the fire, listening to the crackling flames and the howling wind against the windowsill. Draco is grateful for Harry's strong sticking charms; the screen door of their little cabin had flown open with the force of the wind and thumped loudly against the wall over and over. Now, it stays tight against the entrance, another shield against the raging storm.

Their legs are tangled together under thick blankets and Draco's body is heavy and warm against Harry. He's trying to be careful, though, not to knock over the wine glass next to him. He hopes Harry is similarly cautious; the rug they're lying on was pricey.

He's just about to fall asleep when he feels Harry's gruff whisper. "I wish we could stay here forever."

Draco's eyes open and his heart breaks, just a little, even as it swells a bit at 'we;' the novelty of being a 'we' still hasn't worn off, even a year into marriage.

He doesn't know how to respond, exactly, but he's learning he doesn't have to fill every silence; doesn't always have to have the answers. So instead, he makes a small sound that he hopes Harry interprets as Tell me more. I want to hear you.

Luckily, Harry continues. "I want don't want to go back. I don't want to go to work, or see him." Him, Draco knows, is Robards, the overbearing asshole of a boss who makes Harry come home nearly every day with red-rimmed eyes. "I'm tired, Draco," Harry whispers. "I'm so tired."

Draco shifts in Harry's arms, turning to look him in the eye. This time, the words come easily. "Darling, I wish I could make it all better. I wish we could stay here. I—" he breaks off, struck by a sudden epiphany. He frowns, thinking it through, as Harry looks on in confusion.

Before Harry can reply, Draco breaks into a grin. "Harry, if you want to stay, then let's stay."

Now it's Harry's turn to frown. "What?"

"Hear me out." Draco sits up, moving out of Harry's embrace to sit up straight. "You hate your job. You do, Harry. I know it's what you thought you wanted, and maybe you're still passionate about some parts of it, but you're miserable there. You have to face that."

Harry swallows and glances away, but he doesn't argue, which Draco takes as a win.

He presses on. "Life is far too short to be doing something that causes you this much strife. And luckily, we can afford for you not to work. In fact, we could both quit our jobs tomorrow and live comfortably for the rest of our lives," Draco feels more adamant now, as if he's convincing himself as well as Harry.

Harry shakes his head, bewildered. "Wait. You're proposing I quit my job, we sell our flat, and we move here—to what was supposed to be our vacation home—full-time?"

Draco grins. "Exactly."

"But what about you? What about your work? The publishing house is based in London."

Draco waves a hand. "I can write from anywhere, now that you've shown me how to use that Muggle compu-tator."

"It's called a computer, love."

"Whatever. I can use it, can't I? And when I have meetings, I can call or go in person using the Floo. Besides, it might be nice to write with such a gorgeous view."

Harry hums, glancing outside the window. "It is beautiful here."

Draco smirks. "I wasn't talking about the view outside the window." He leers and waggles his eyebrows meaningfully, and Harry laughs, blushing a bit.

Draco settles back into Harry's arms, confident that he's got him nearly convinced. "Picture it, love. We can have a garden and grow all sorts of things. We can still have our friends over whenever we want; the city is only a Floo away." He looks up at Harry, tilting the other man's chin down slightly to look at him directly. "I think it would be good for you." He laces their fingers together, their wedding rings clinking. "For us."

Harry's silent for a moment. Draco gives him time, just taking the opportunity to look at him. To silently convey all the love he feels, always present under his skin, and letting it rise to the surface. Say yes, Harry, he thinks. It'll be good. So, so good.

Finally, Harry smiles. "Let's do it. I'll send Robards my resignation tomorrow."

Draco's hopeful smile splits into a wide grin. He flings himself upward and nearly knocks over their wine glasses with the force of his hug. "Yes! Oh, Harry, we'll be so happy. So disgustingly happy, I promise you."

Harry chuckles, kissing Draco, short and soft. "I don't doubt it."

"We need to celebrate." Draco reaches for their wine glasses, handing Harry his and holding his own up between them. "To you, and to the future."

Harry brings their glasses together with a soft clink. "To us."

[green-like-the-sky]

hello! i hate to seem impatient, but did you receive my ask about your time travel au tomtom headcanons? i'm worried that tumblr might've eaten it. thanks! ^^

BESTIE I'M SO SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY tumblr didn't eat it i just forgor

ok, tomtom time travel headcanons! this is long and rambling sorry

full disclosure i started tinkering with a time travel au for them right after i read The Mirror and the Light, so back in 2020(!). Since I got back into Wolf Hall recently, I decided to pick it up again. I don't want to give away all the plot points so some spoilers are under the cut!

they come through to modern London just before More's trial (opening scene of the fic posted here!). The Tower is a crossing point in my mind, so much has taken place there and so many lives have been lost that the temporal walls are thin. Other people from their time have crossed through too. Perhaps they meet up with them in the future... (they 100% do)

Cromwell is convinced modern London is not real, he's just hallucinating or having a fever relapse and it takes him a few days to come to terms with the fact that yes, they're really 500 years in the future. The things that have stayed the same (more or less) convince him. The Thames. The trees on Putney Heath. More being insufferable now as he was then.

More actually accepts the time travel pretty quickly but he pretends not to because he knows that will annoy Cromwell.

they are told by their host (spoilers!) not to google themselves, because they can't know their historical fates in case they ever get transported back to 1500s (nobody knows how the time travel works, or if it will happen again)

(the internet, generally, is astounding and More immediately wants to know what became of Erasmus and who the Pope is now)

Later they both confess to googling themselves anyway. Not to know what their own fates were, but what became of Gregory and Meg. Bonding moment!

After they have acclimatised for a couple of days they are let out to explore London on their own. They get lost on the tube. They go to a coffee shop and don't know how to order so end up just ordering what the people in line ahead of them got (iced mocha with whipped cream nearly kills More)

Cromwell wonders what he could have achieved in Henry's court, with internet access.

Cromwell also wonders what he could have achieved in Henry's court, caffeinated.

They contemplate starting a podcast (thankfully they are talked out of this)

Eventually Cromwell realises the insufferableness of More is not actually insufferable. Sudden overwhelming realisation that perhaps the reason he tried so hard to make him take the oath was that back then he was in love with him. More: didn't you know?

They hook up.

The fic ends with them having been in the future for four years and counting. They're both perfectly happy. More is a university lecturer (his knowledge of european reformation literature is astounding, his colleagues think!). Cromwell has been dabbling in law again. They've got a nice place with a little garden, plenty of room for More's animals (Cromwell makes fun but he does have a black cat of his own)...

ANNE is the only other person from their time period who also came through the doorway in the Tower. It happened just before her own execution so she is slightly ahead of them, in Tudor-timeline. She also has been in the future for 20 years, she's thoroughly established, she fits neatly in to modern London, she has a great job, she's divorced with a grown up daughter.

(her grown up daughter is the person who finds the Toms in the Tower, believes who they say they are and takes them back to Anne's flat the first night).

Anne slaps Cromwell when she first meets them in modern times. She ignores More.

Anne is annoyed they are there, but knows how they're feeling and what they need to do to survive in the 2020s. It's also nice to see familiar faces, even if it is them

They end up all going to a karaoke bar and get drunk, and, well, 500 years is a long time to hold a grudge.

The Toms' girldad instincts kick in around Anne's daughter. She's in the first year of her undergrad and More can't resist helping with essays. Cromwell bonds with her over the weirdness of them both being separated from family by half a millenium (she's desperate to know about her 'big' sister, Elizabeth I!)

I have rambled on a lot here sorry but that's a general overview! if you want to know anything else please do ask!!

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Cities

I know Remus is technically a Cardiff boy, okay? But humour me and let me make him from tiny little Llanwrtyd Wells please??

Imagine living on the end of the earth.

Take that and combine it with the terrestrial rain every other day, and it’s Remus Lupin’s home. A small, hidden Welsh town called Llanwrtyd Wells.

Living in buttfuck nowhere meant that you knew everybody and everybody knew you.

Everybody.

When Remus had his first kiss, old ass Mrs Davies nudged him and said ‘well done’ the next day.

Still, it had its perks. Like not having to come out to his mum, because there were approximately two other gay guys in town, and while Osian wasn’t a bad kisser, he wasn’t quite prepared to date someone who went on and on about how much he loved his small town and basically didn’t say anything else. Also, the nights being quiet. If they happened to have a heatwave (once in a millennia) he could sleep with the window wide open, without worrying about cars speeding past, or getting robbed. Bar the few teenagers in Remus’ classes that liked to shoplift (until one of them got a slap around the head from Arwen for robbing her mum) or vandalise a building from time to time, people were too close for there to be much criminal activity.

It also meant that when Hope finally kicked Lyall out, there was no way he could stay in town. The people had made it clear that he wasn’t welcome back.

Yeah, Remus loved the town, and the people in it.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t excited when he got into Oxford on a full scholarship. A big fuck off English city and a prestigious ass university! Also, a chance to live in a big city, finally.

He wasn’t expecting to find the first 5 minutes so hard. The moment he got off the bus, he realised that in Oxford, people barged into each other without a sniff of an apology, just walking quickly through one another. Also, why was it so big? Remus could blink in the wrong place and he’d be lost! Eventually, he gave up on trying to navigate the overwhelming maze of buildings and roads, getting a ridiculously expensive Uber instead.

Checking in was stressful, getting his key and his ID and finding his flat was stressful.

He had an awful start to a city life.

Everything smelled like petrol fumes, he could hear the cars through the window, everything was grey. Remus had almost thought he had made a mistake.

The first perk of Oxford? His roommates.

James Potter was essentially a big ball of energy who somehow knew the city like the back of his hand, even though he wasn’t from Oxford, so he didn’t have to worry about getting lost. He would smile and talk and somehow make sure everybody felt included at the same time. He had stopped Remus from snapping at everybody and breaking down on his first day.

Peter Pettigrew was from a smaller town in Devon, Clovelly, so he and Remus had plenty of time to complain about the differences between towns and cities. Peter kept Remus sane, making him feel like he wasn’t really odd for not being able to sleep in the city, with all of it’s noise, or exchanging an amused glance at the fact that every building was identical.

Sirius Black was…

Sirius Black deserved an entirely separate perk dedicated to him.

He was the example of a hot Londoner. Christ, with his long, flowing black hair and silver eyes… Remus figured out very early on that he was falling for him, that much was obvious.

Still, he had never really been around someone he fancied before, not when he was falling so hard and fast. Tripping and stumbling from liking him to loving him before he had a chance to catch his balance. Honestly, the last thing he had expected was to fall in love with a Londoner who could sleep through aggressive evening construction, had a posh as shit accent and could look at a train map and just… understand it.

He was well and truly fucked.

Until he realised that Sirius got jealous when other people flirted with him. The revelation that came at the third perk of a big city: a lot of places to get drunk. As it turned out, Remus was the right kind of tall and broad shouldered to be considered desirable to city people. Specifically, to city men, which wasn't something that Remus was at all used to. He had never had to learn to put on a charm, a filter.

More specifically, he couldn't flirt to save his fucking life. That meant he essentially just had to stand and nod while guys talked at him.

Well, until Sirius swooped in one day and snogged him senseless in the middle of the dance floor in a gay club. Then he didn't have to worry about flirting, he was Sirius', nothing but Sirius'.

The city was the fucking best. Without the city, he wouldn't have met Sirius.

Still, his small town was perfect for making his city boyfriend visit over the summer. It was pretty much the highlight of his life.

Sirius was the perk of every city he was in.

[alonetimelover]

Action! - blurb - FIRST DATE - 2017

Pairings: Harry Styles x Director!Reader (she/her)

Category: fluff

Summary: short story abut two people being nervous on their first date

Word count: ~ 2,8k

series masterlist

2017

Being 20 wasn’t as carefree as she imagined. Maybe if she wasn’t who she was, or doing the job she truly loved, it would be different, easier. It didn’t mean she was miserable. It was challenging to manoeuvre between being a student and being a full time director. It cost her many sleepless nights, an uncountable amount of wet tissues, numerous cups of coffee and tons of concealer under her eyes.

She was living alone in London, leaving her family behind in their home. It was hard to get accustomed to the new life. Meeting people was probably the hardest. And being shy didn’t help that.

So, when she met Florence during her first year in London, living there started being enjoyable. She was the sister she never had, best friend she could trust, a companion to explore the World. 

But right now, when she was sitting in front of her mirror that she had forgotten to clean, she was nervous. 5:46 p.m. Just fourteen minutes for breathing exercises, managing that one strand of hair to stay in its place. Too little time to calm down. She definitely was lacking experience. Dating experience. 

“It’s just a date, YN. It will be fine,” Florence said, massaging YN’s shoulders. 

“Fine? Do you remember who this date is with? I don’t know why I said yes in the first place. Mistake. Big mistake,” she said, throwing her hands up and down while talking. “He couldn’t be serious. It’s friendly at most.” 

“If tonight’s date,” she emphasised, “was friendly, I think he wouldn't take you to the poshest restaurant in London, babe.” Florence pinned a persistent strand of YN's hair with a slide and kissed her head.  

“He’s rich, that’s why it’s the poshest one! And he’s also, like - I don’t know - the gold rush or something. Everybody wants him.”

“New experience. A lesson. One call away. Deal.” YN listed what sounded the most important to her.

“Okay.” Florence crouched in front of YN and squeezed her hands. “Listen to me carefully. I know you feel self-conscious and afraid. It’s something new for you, something left-field. And I know it makes you scared. But you don’t need to be. Try to think about it like a new experience in your notebook. Experience that you will learn from and some positives will come out of it for sure. A lesson." Florence sat on her calves, getting somewhat comfortable.

"You said he’s a great dude, I heard the same about him. Let’s give it a chance. Remember, I’m just one call away. If he tries something you don’t like, you call me. I’m beating his ass then." Young woman laughed and continued, "New experience. If you don’t like it, you won’t go on a second one. Deal?” Florence ended her monologue with a smile on her face. 

Girls kissed their cheeks and hugged until their flat’s bell rang. YN looked at her friend with nothing but fear in her gorgeous eyes. 

“Relax. I’m getting the door, and giving him a piece of my mind. You’re touching up your hair and putting those shoes on. Do you need more than two minutes?” Florence was already near the bedroom's door. 

“No. Two minutes are enough. Thank you, Flo.”

The blonde just smiled at her and moved as quick as a flash to the front door. YN, still sitting before the mirror, took three deep breaths. Having never been on a real date was nerve-wracking. She hoped there weren’t special rules for whatever happens during the date. Maybe her outfit wasn’t enough? Or too much? It was a light-coloured dress with long sleeves. Shoes, she was putting on weren't newest but comfortable. She probably should wear high heels. Or at least something fancier. Perhaps, make-up would be…

“YN! Don't make us wait forever for you, babe!” 

And just like that she left the room. 

She couldn’t remember whatever Florence said to her while leaving. Everything just flew over her head. She was so overwhelmed. Just an experience. One call away. She was hearing Flo’s words in her mind over and over again. Try to have fun. He’s a good guy. Trust your guts.

She heard the doors locking behind her, with the sound of a coming lift following. She never realised that the corridor’s walls were painted beige. Or the floor having some funny patterns. 

“YN, are you okay?” 

After hearing the voice she finally looked up. When she met his eyes she knew that whatever happens and waits for them, she didn’t want to ever look away. 

“Do you feel alright?”

“Yeah,” she cleared her throat. “I’m good. I’m good.” 

They entered the lift and Harry pressed ‘0’. When the lift moved loudly, she took a moment to breathe out. He heard it, she thought. He must have heard it. But even if he did, he never said anything. He was humming some melody, a bouquet of field flowers grasped tightly in his ringed hand. He’s nervous, too.

The lift’s ding! whipped her out of her thoughts. They both moved arm to arm to the main doors. 

“M’lady,” he said, holding the doors open for her. 

She nodded her head in gratitude and moved along. The chilly April wind hit her face, making her shiver. She loved cool days, wearing woollen socks and big scarfs. Enjoying the grey sky and greening trees. The flowers that just started blossoming and birds that chirped songs familiar only to them. Nature coming to life. Spring. 

“My car is near Tesco. I didn’t know if you would have a parking spot for an extra. I hope you don’t mind. It’s quite cold.” Harry expressed with furrowed eyebrows evidently bothered by the wind. 

“Of course not. I should tell you that there is a car park near the complex. Florence has a spot left for guests. Sorry about that.” YN smiled at him, hoping he wouldn’t be mad. 

Harry smiled back, “well I’ll know for the next time.” When he didn’t hear anything back, any move, word, sound, he spoke up frantically, “or not. I mean, it’s - it’s our first date so, there’s no pressure. Yeah?”

Harry was a nervous wreck right now. He might have had some experience in dating, or at least going on dates (he didn’t really have time to actually date people) but somehow he felt different today. The word ‘different’ didn’t make this situation justice, only made it barely close to the mark. Maybe it was the weather. He didn’t love London's weather but he didn’t loathe it either. It all came down to travelling so much. He weaned himself of rainy and greyish days. Having spent so much time in the States (sunny California) or in Jamaica (where he had written his album) made him get used to the sun which he actually had hated while being a young boy.

Though, let’s face the truth. It wasn’t the cold temperature and grey clouds, or the rusty clock heard in the distance (that would usually drive him up the wall), or even the wind blowing in his eyes (making it strenuous to simply see). It was her. Just her. 

When his eyes first met hers (it would sound cheesy) but his world stopped at once. Not like Noah’s when he first saw Allie. No. He wouldn’t have climbed up the big wheel to ask her on a date (he was scared of heights). But when she was standing in front of him with those eyes looking right into his, he felt like she was looking right at his soul. He felt naked. Metaphorically naked. He couldn’t bring himself to gaze away, to say anything. He just stood opposite her. And right then he knew, after filming whatever she had written for his music video, he was going to ask her out. 

“You’ve picked a nice bouquet of flowers,” she pointed out, not wanting to accidentally hurt him by saying something wrong. 

Harry felt he fucked up. The date was supposed to go like this: get to her flat, ring the bell, smile and greet her, give her flowers, tell her she looks beautiful (he didn’t need to know what she would wear, he knew she would look astonishing), take her hand, drive her to the restaurant, eat a nice diner, talk to her, take her on a walk, drive her home, and hope she liked everything to go on another date with you. For now, he did do the first two of the list. 

He could see a pattern. Whenever he enjoyed something, it would make him excited and then, somehow it would all go to shit. It was like that with the guitar he had gotten from his dad. It was a one of a kind piece, made specifically for him. It was engraved with his name. He played it for exactly two days. After those two, wonderful days the guitar got smashed by the bookshelf. How did the bookshelf collapse, someone could ask?

Well, when Harry bought his new house he decided to be A MAN (yes, he sometimes also thought too stereotypically, but he was working on it) and put all the furniture together, by himself. He spent two weeks having not been seen by anybody, a caveman in the mansion. It started pretty good. The dining table and chairs came together nicely. The wardrobe was a biggy. But he managed (he literally high fived himself after placing the last screw in the back of it). Then there was the bed, whatnots, cabinets and more chairs and small tables. The last one was the infamous bookshelf. It started easy, a few shelves held by screws and small doors here and there. The tricky part was the legs. You needed to level them. But Harry didn’t have a level so he did the one thing a man could do. No he didn’t ask for help. He did it more or less. 

Firstly, when he put the books in their designated place, the bookshelf held up firmly. And then he placed the guitar right in front of it, just because. That was the perfect time for the books to overload and make the bookshelf collapse. 

Another time was when he had a song idea. These days he could remember it was really good, probably the best he had ever written. How did it went to shit? Just like his homework as a kid. His mum’s cat had eaten the page where the song was written. Talking about luck. What's more, the cat got ill and had to go on antibiotics (something about ink irritating poor cat’s bowels). 

Long story short, whenever Harry was excited it all would go to shit eventually. 

“They’re for you,” Harry finally whispered embarrassedly. “I - I don’t usually - do this,” he threw the finger between them. “I’m - “ Breathe Harry. “I’m just nervous.”

“Me too. Like really nervous. Like right before doing the monologue before twenty people, kinda nervous. Like the shivers going down your spine. But not the good shivers, the bad ones. The ones you feel while bein’ in the Haunted House? You know there’s something that’s going to scare you, but you’re afraid either way.” She was rambling. 

“Yeah. Those are the worst. Whenever I’m at something like that I’m looking from behind my fingers. I recommend that.” Harry smiled, looking at her sheepishly. They were bonding over being nervous around each other. What a way to start a date. 

“Here. They’re for you.” He handed her the flowers which already lost their extra fresh look. Still looked beautiful in YN’s mind. 

“Thank you. I like that they’re field ones. Makes them more special. Did you pick them up yourself?”

“I did. I’ve got quite a wildlife garden that I could finally put to good use. I hope they somehow match each other.”

“They look beautiful together. Thank you, it’s really thoughtful of you.” 

They finally rushed to Harry’s car. The wind was blowing to their faces, slowing them down. Hands slightly brushing, sending their hair to stand on their arms. They walked in silence, with Harry showing her way with almost unnoticeable right hand movements. The air smelt like rain and freshly mowed lawn with a hint of blossoming apple trees nearby. The sun set just over a dozen minutes ago taking the sky’s loveable look. 

The date was going well. Very well. Besides Harry tripping over some nice lady’s chair and YN spilling some wine on her dress. They fell into a peaceful conversation, connecting over their love for music (especially Fleetwood Mac, David Bowie and Prince), good food (even though Harry cannot cook) and poetry. During those two hours in the restaurant they laughed more than they did in the past few months.

“You can’t avoid the answer, YN. I need the truth,” Harry challenged YN after she refused to admit her favourite Fleetwood Mac’s album. 

“I can and I will,” she smirked at him, taking a sip of a dry champagne. “This champagne is so good. D’you know what it is?”

“You’re changing the subject.” He was shaking his head with a playful disappointment painted on his flushed face. “We can ask the waiter when he brings your dessert. Or -” he dragged the ‘o’ reaching for the menu, “it should be here.”

YN bowed over the table, trying to read as much as possible. Her eyebrows shot up after seeing the prices she previously hadn’t paid any attention to. 

“He said dry, white and vintage French champagne, didn't he?” Harry asked rather rhetorically, looking into her eyes. Waiter did emphasise the story of the champagne pretty extensively.

“Yeah, and the story about the monk that started it all.”

“That's right. Alright,” Harry hugged the menu to his chest so YN wouldn’t be able to see the name, “drumrolls, please.” He looked at the woman opposite him provocatively.

“You really are a performer, aren’t you?” She expressed with a laugh but did the drumming motions of her two pointing fingers, hitting the table quietly.

“Dom Pérignon. And now tell me the album.” 

She didn’t. That night Fleetwood Mac wasn’t discussed. Right after Harry closed his mouth, the waiter brought the cake. The pair shared it, making a small conversation about their upcoming plans and projects.

At one point Harry spotted a fan, taking a picture. Then, for a moment, he stopped feeling like Harry, he, once again, was Harry Styles, not a person but a celebrity to follow and disturb (sometimes unconsciously).

Harry didn’t mind fans, he loved them. Without them, he wouldn’t have been the artist he was. And all that didn’t mean that he was okay with constantly having his life being talked about on the internet, to having his photos from grocery shopping there, or his mother’s address being leaked. He appreciated fans and the opportunity they had given him while hating the life he had at the same time. Constantly feeling overwhelmed, without a moment to take a breath and live in the present. Constantly being exhausted. 

That’s why he needed to present all of this to YN.

“Well, it’s a lot to digest. I - I was nervous before the date because of those reasons, to be honest. But at the same time, I don’t want it to dictate my life.” If that's a new experience, let’s make it longer. “Maybe - maybe we can take it slow, like really slow. We both have work and things to follow. Let’s get to know each other and see what happens?” She proposed, looking at him with a shy smile.

“I know that this one date doesn’t have to mean a life-long commitment, but - I - I need you to know what happened at dinner, it’s - uhm - it’s the least that it could’ve been. I don’t have a normal life or a normal career. And I’m constantly being followed by paps, fans and all that. I just need you to know that - I want us to be something and, if you want the same it’s going to be looked at by people. I - I don’t want to put pressure on you - just - it’s better to not start anything if we’re not ready for what’s inevitable to come.”

Soughing trees near YN’s flat accompanying them with their finest canto, created a pleasant sound. Driving them away from the road's hustle and nerve-racking  minds. 

Maybe it was harsh to say by Harry, but it all was true. He couldn’t do a snow job on her. Deep down he had a feeling, they could write a story together. 

He didn’t answer. He just felt the mind-boggling urge to kiss her. Screw taking things really slow, was his one thought. Respect her, imbecile. Take. It. Slow, was the other one. But when she was looking at him with those eyes he couldn’t resist gazing into, he found in them a glimpse of the same desire he had. He succumbed to the first thought. 

“Taking it slow, Harry, doesn’t mean putting your lips on mine,” YN whispered with Harry’s mouth still ghosting over hers. When he didn’t answer and just smiled impishly she couldn’t help, but mirror him. “You’re a trouble, Mr Styles.”

“Well, I’m glad to be anything to you, Miss YSN.”

And after pecking her lips a few more times, they parted their ways with a date having been set up in just a week's time.

[gggreengoblin]

1.838 words, 2nd part of this, Girl!Daniel wanted to move wanted to move away from Monaco to help her move on from her feelings for Max.

CW:: WAG (kelly, only mentioned), Girl!Daniel

It would be good for Daniel's mental health to move and bring some fresh air into her life. Her therapist suggested it. She had considered it for almost a month.

She had been doing the same routine for years, just rinse and repeat. Racing since she was a toddler, traveling since she was a teenager, and moved to Monaco in her early 20s. And Daniel believed that moving to a new place would help her feel better. And maybe living in one place permanently, with less traveling, would give her some sense of stability. Something that she lacked.

She had already told her family about her plan. She had told them about her little apartment-hunting adventure, how she found her lovely one-bedroom flat in northwest London, how she fell in love with it because of its open-bricked accent wall, electric fireplace and tall windows. She also told them about her plan to set a chair and a table in front of one of the windows.

All that remained was to announce the news of her moving to her friends. She wanted to tell Max first. He was one of her closest friends, someone who she hung out with at least twice a month and texted her daily.

Daniel had baked some chocolate cookies. She was letting the cookies cool down on her marble kitchen island. The whole apartment smelled delicious, chocolate-sweet, just like her cookies.

Her cell phone rang. Max was outside of her apartment,  waiting for her to buzz him in.

She opened her door for Max. He was in his casual clothes, with no Redbull logo in sight.

"Smell good, Daniel," Max's first words to Daniel.

"Yeah. Just finished baking."

Max passed the shopping bag he was carrying to Daniel. Inside is a box of chocolates. It was the expensive one from Daniel's favorite brand.

Max went straight to the kitchen, eyeing two baking trays full of chocolate cookies. He took a cookie and blew on it. He took a giant bite of it. "Very delicious."

"Is P staying with you and Kelly?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, she is. She wants to go karting tomorrow."

"Cool. Can I pack some cookies for her? Is that okay?"

Max nodded so Daniel took a small lunchbox and put some cookies for the little girl.

"Thank you. She loves your cookies."

Max took more cookies for himself. Humming while chewing.

Daniel took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "Max I need to tell you something, yeah?"

"I will move to London in two weeks."

Max stopped chewing. He put the cookie he had bitten onto the kitchen counter.

He glanced at Daniel.

"I'm moving to London. It will be easier for me if I live closer to the factory. No more unnecessary plane rides. Good for the environment, you know."

Max turned his back on Daniel.

"Max?"

Daniel saw how Max's ears and neck turned red. Of course, that man noticed how some of Daniel's belongings disappeared from their usual placement. She had packed some of her worldly possessions. Her decorations, trophies, and her vinyl collection had been packed into cardboard boxes that piled up in the corner of the room, leaving her pristine white walls bare.

Daniel did not expect this kind of reaction at all. She knew Max would ask a lot of questions but she never imagined he would be mad.

He took a deep breath and turned around. "Why? What happened? I don't get it, Daniel."

"Yeah, I feel like- I don't feel Monaco is the right place for me anymore."

"But I thought you like Monaco."

"I have liked Monaco, for years, but not now. I want- I need something new."

Max walked out onto the balcony, leaving Daniel standing alone in the kitchen. Too stunned to say something.

She followed Max to the balcony. Max was just standing there. Staring into the dark sea in the distance.  His hands were clenching the railing. 

"I'll be my closet, packing my old clothes, yeah? Find me when you're done staring at nothing," Daniel mumbled.

She sighed when she sat on her closet floor. A huge pile of clothes waiting to be sorted. She took two cardboard boxes, one for things she wanted to keep, and one for old clothes she wanted to throw away.

Her closet was years' worth of clutter she never bothered to sort. Maybe moving to London was a blessing, an opportunity to put her life back together. It forced her to sort things out, take her future to London, and leave her junk in Monaco.

She folded that pile. She folded her old, faded t-shirt. Her dresses that she only wore once. Her old hoodies. She did not want to keep them, so she put them in the put-away box.

She heard sounds from her bathroom. Door closing, water faucet running. She let Max be.

A few minutes later, Max joined her. His face was still blotchy and his hair was a little wet. His face was blank from any emotion. Just like the Max Daniel would find on the track after a horrible race.

"I am sorry," Max said as he sat down among Daniel's colorful mess, "of course, you can move to anywhere you want." He didn't even look at Daniel's face. Eyes focused on the wall behind her.

"Why are you so upset?" Daniel put down the half-folded shirt to focus on Max.

"You are moving to England, Daniel. Of course, I am shocked."

Daniel couldn't believe what she heard.

"We will be seeing each other less and less," Max muttered under his breath.

And it hurt Daniel when Max said it out loud. It is true, they would be seeing each other a lot less than usual, but isn't it the point? Also, she was sure Max would still hunt her down during his stay in England.

"Would you not feel the same way if I move?" The emotionless mask slipped from his voice. That crack showed a sliver of Max's emotion but Daniel was too scared to name it.

"To be honest, I don't think you will ever leave Monaco, Mate. You love the Mediterranean too much."

"Well, there are few places I like better than Monaco."

"You mean a place like a secluded mansion in the south of France?"

"No, l like Australia too, you know."

"Australia is too different from Monaco. The sun is hotter, the waves are stronger because of the ocean. I don't think you would like that."

The thought of Max and Kelly moving to Australia was a nightmare. For a second Daniel imagined Max and Kelly moving to a beach house in Perth with their beautiful blond-haired children. Daniel would rather pack her bags and move to Greenland than share the same city with them again.

"You have no idea, Daniel."

"Would you not feel sad if I move to another country?" Max asked again. His fingers were fidgeting with Daniel's peach and creme-colored cardigan.

"Of course, I'll be sad we won't see each other much. But if moving would be better for you, make you feel happier, then I'll support you."

"This is why you are so much better than me," he whispered.

"Let me help," Max took the cardboard box that had been halfway full. He put the pile of clothes that Daniel was going to throw away into the box. Then he moved on to another stack of folded garments.

"No, not that one."

Max stopped and put the pile back down.

"I don't know what to do with this," Daniel looked at that pile. Her old race suit, fireproof, and balaclava.

"You should keep them," Max traced his finger through them, one by one, lingering on Daniel's name.

"I can't. I don't have enough space. The place I rent is way smaller than this apartment."

"Why did you choose that place then?"

"It is gorgeous." She ran to her bedroom and took her phone. She showed him the pictures of her new apartment. Max just nodded, not impressed.

Max took a new box and wrote "Daniel's racing gear" on the side of the box. He put the pile in that box.

"Just send the things you want to keep to my place. I have enough space. And maybe, if you change your mind, you can just fly back here because you already have some of your stuff at my house."

"I will not come back."

"How can you be so sure?"

Daniel didn't answer. She knew Max was still upset and unconsciously acting like a prick.

"I don't understand why you have to do all of this, Daniel. Why do you have to change your life because of him?"

"It's not because of him."

"Of course it is because of him. Don't lie to me."

"Maybe some of this change happened because of him. But like, It would be easier for me if I didn't see him as much. It would be easier for me to move on."

Max looked down and said, "I wish you never met and fell in love with him."

"No, Max. I will never regret meeting him."

"Fuck, Daniel," He groaned. Jaws already clenching.

"Tell me who he is."

"No."

"Please, just tell me already."

"Why are you forcing me? What will you do if you know who it is?"

"I want to punch him. I want to hurt him for hurting you like this."

He stood up. They were at the same height, maybe Max was a little taller than her by one or two centimeters, but standing face to face with upset Max was too much for Daniel. She knew he would never hurt her, but the intensity of his gaze made her shiver. 

"Tell me something about him. What makes him so special? What does he have that makes you love him like this?"

"Max, what are you talking about? You know how unhappy I am. I complain to you, like, all the time. But is this your reaction when I finally tell you what I need to do to fix my situation?" she snapped "I thought you cared and want me to be happy."

"I need a minute." He walked out of the room.

"No, Max. You need to go home."

He just stood there, in the hallway. Anger slowly disappeared from his eyes. His mouth was open but he said nothing. Max didn't even protest when Daniel led him to the front door.

"I will be back to help you with the packing tomorrow," he said.

"Nope. You'll go karting with Penelope and Kelly tomorrow."

She almost forgot about P. She hurriedly took the lunchbox from her kitchen island and shoved it into Max's hand.

"We will talk again when we've calmed down, yeah." She patted his arm before closing the door.

.....

The very next day, at 10.08 a.m., Max called her. He said he was waiting outside her building with his big car, the one with big enough trunk to take Daniel's boxes.