#royals au style

[folklauerate]

The styling discourse made me think about what kind of style queen kate would adopt. I am not English and I am always quite baffled by the amount of articles written about the Royal Family and dress codes and being boring or too audacious etc. So what’s her style? Especially compared with her style pre engagement/wedding. (And if you want what’s the style of the various family members?) Thank you!

Thank you SO MUCH for asking because I LOVE talking fashion and I’ve been a royal style watcher for most of my life lol! I actually have spent the better part of an hour and a half pulling things and making moodboards!

To address your question about royal protocol and style and stuff; I’m going to go with what I’ve learned in the Harry and Meg doc, which is that there’s no set rule book given to them, but there are expectations that come with being a member of the royal family and you must dress accordingly! Royals will often wear pieces from local designers if they’re on tour, giving a nod to the country/city they’re in, and otherwise usually develop relationships with certain fashion houses and designers that help inform the rest of their looks. Almost all of them have a team of stylists. Royal dressing is important and Kate is going to learn to be incredibly intentional about it because what she wears has the power to potentially change a designer’s life, given that it’ll usually sell out quickly, and because it can be a way to shed light on important causes sartorially.

Royals AU Kate’s on-duty style is going to be really informed by Queen Letizia of Spain and Meghan Markle when she was a working royal. Letizia is always impeccably tailored, as though her clothes are custom made for her, and has such an eye for detail. She’s always fashionable and on trend without being gauche, she’s a very classic but elevated style, and she isn’t afraid to have fun. I picked Meghan’s royal style too because, especially during their last few working royal engagements, she was hitting it out of the park constantly! Bold colors, capes, great tailoring! I enjoyed some of her earlier royal looks, too; plenty of pants, some menswear inspired pieces (that structured jacket/blazer over a feminine self portrait dress is everything to me), and hats. It’s funny that I picked Letizia and Meg for this, since they’re both so petite and short, and Kate is not, so we’re all going to have to imagine lol.

So really classic silhouettes with unexpected/royal nods (aka capes and caplets, plenty of hats), great blowouts or wavy hair, elevated fancy businesswoman workwear type of stuff!

When it comes to her off-duty style, I had a BLAST! I think Karlie Kloss’ street style is perfect for Queen Kate off duty looks. Karlie is really tall (a bit taller than Kate but similar heights) and wears a lot of flats, along with really great fitting denim, plain t’s or sweaters that are all impeccably tailored and very fashionable, and GREAT classic coats! I think Queen Kate would wear something more daring/low cut for date nights, because she’s a modern girl and former movie star—she’s Hollywood royalty! I think the thing to remember here is she’s going to be dressing conservative but still intensely fashionable. Even her off-duty looks are coming from a highly curated wardrobe and follow a set of principles; very very immaculately tailored, structured well fitting denim, and tops/coats that look like she just threw them on and walked out of the house looking fabulous. I threw in Karlie in that fendi jumpsuit pushing a stroller for fun, because imagine Queen Kate pushing Miles around in a pram wearing that lol!

I also made a moodboard for Daphne! I think Daphne would tend to lean more Kate Middleton style, but specifically Kate Middleton during the Meghan Markle years when she upped her style game lmfao. So nothing crazy, everything is very tailored, classic, nothing “out there,” lots of blowouts (there’s a line in the second chapter about Daphne having blowouts and it was indeed a nod to Kate lol), very classic and feminine, leaning a little militaristic-inspired as Kate does sometimes with her coats!

[aychama]

Help me pick hair for Narinder!

[emry-stars-art]

@lyndiscealin your addition to this post… immaculate, I wanted to draw it, I hope you don’t mind I made minor changes 😅

And did you mean for it to fit almost perfectly with the next bit, because I feel like you did, all I needed to add was one panel between - like, fix the mood in the last two panels and it’s like a seamless comic you’re a genius

Anyway THANK YOU everyone is so brilliant with their ideas and additions 💕

[starry-bi-sky]

Who is the more well-adjusted twin; Damian, or Danyal? Why, it's Damian, of course!

And I have an explanation for this! But first I wanna preface this that this is just me like, rambling about this thought I have and it's not an attack on the trope as a whole. I love the Danyal Al Ghul au which is why i'm so deeply passionate about it, because I think it has a lot of potential to be explored. It's no secret that I've mentioned before that I think Danny's psychological development tends to get overlooked and underutilized in DAG aus, and the impact that growing up in an assassin league often goes ignored. This is just me further expanding on that.

Now lets set the stage! This is specifically for Danny who is adopted by the Fentons later down in life. Lets go twin au. At 10 years old, Damian goes to the Wayne Family, Danny is adopted by the Fentons (regardless of their affiliation with the League). By 14 years old, who ends up the better adjusted, more socially aware, spiritually in-tune with themselves, sibling? Why, Damian is! Why is that?

Because he has the actual support he needs compared to Danny. And I'm not talking about good or bad parents Fentons, because either way my opinion doesn't change. Damian would end up the better off twin, because, frankly, his family knows his background. They know he grew up in the League, they know what the League's teachings are, and they know he's a born and raised assassin. Knowing this, they can then help tackle and dismantle the teachings and lessons he has been given and ingrained into by the League. They may be a dysfunctional family, but they're functional enough to at least actively help deprogram all of the League's teachings that have been ingrained in Damian throughout his childhood.

Can't say the same for Danny.

Lets say Fentons here don't know his background -- and even if they do, the results may just stay the same if they play their cards wrong, -- Danny's now just been thrown into the deep end of a pool and is essentially being told sink or swim. Regardless of how he got there -- undercover, faked death, etc -- he has no proper support. He knows the League is meant to be secret, he's not gonna speak on it for various reasons. Whether it be some still lingering loyalty, fear of harm, or whatever. Whatever the reason is, he does not have a proper support system in the Fentons, no matter how nice they are. They can only tackle the surface level stuff and whatever Danny allows them to see -- if Danny ever lets them see it at all. For what do assassins do when they don't want to be caught? They hide. Sometimes in plain sight.

"But Jazz--" Jazz is a child. She is 2 years older than Danyal and no better at giving him a proper support system than the two adult Fenton parents, even with parentification. We don't know when she got into psychology or how long she'd been studying it by the time Danny's 14. We just know she's really into it. Even then, Jazz is not a licensed or reliable therapist, or even an experienced or implied good therapist, and should not be used as one either. It's a disservice to her character to reduce her down to 'supporting female emotional crutch'. Besides, therapy only works on people who want to get better. Danny, who'd be hiding who he really is, has very little incentive to want to, or to even think something is wrong with his way of thinking, even with exposure to the outside world.

When people's beliefs are outright challenged, they tend to double down on them, and Jazz canonically has a habit of psychoanalyzing her family and declaring what she thinks is the problem -- regardless of whether or not she's right about it. Jazz would get into psychology, try and psychoanalyze Danny, and all it would do is cause him to clam up, shut into himself further, and throw up even more walls so that she can't figure out that he has been lying this whole time. It would do more harm than good, and would actively hinder any progress he'd make in trying to open up to them. Roads and good intentions and all that.

That being said, I think Danny's development and dismantling of the League's teachings would be slower than Damian's. Much slower. Because he would be the one having to pick apart everything and figure out what is right, what is wrong, what he wants to keep, and what he wants to toss. Everything he unlearns would be stuff he has to unlearn himself. If he even gets to that point at all -- depending on his experiences, he very well could not change at all, or change very little. The League acts as a purge for humanity, meant to reign in their hubris and retain balance, they just also happen to be assassins for hire. Danny's time spent in Amity Park could as well strengthen his belief in their teachings just as much as it could weaken it, especially if it goes as canon and he gets bullied.

Regardless, being tossed to a civilian family as someone who is very much not a civilian, without any support, would be actively detrimental to Danny's overall mental health and development. Especially to strangers like the Fentons. Damian was closed off and standoffish even with blood family, and it took him time to open up to them -- Danny, with the Fentons, would be even more so. He doesn't know them, he doesn't trust them, he has no rhyme or reason to open up to them, and since the Fentons don't actually know him, they can't help him the way he needs. Once "Danny Fenton" is made, he has even less reason to open up. So long as Danyal allows it, they will only ever know Danny, and they'll never know Danyal.

TL:DR the Fentons aren't the better family option just because they're civilians, and actually that makes them the worser option between the two because they can't give Danny the proper support he needs. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.

[krasytoonz]

A pie for King Wally ☺️

Guess what flavor it is

Uhm… pumpkin pie..!

[rinisdrawing]

the golden princess & the sorcerer prince

[babitim-royal-au]

I swear- every week I gain a new art style..

[u3pxx]

☀️💖 he's a weak, weak man.

[qameronq]

Here they are, all coloured! I even included a quick snippet of their Narinders.

Go check them out because they're art is amazing and the stories are fun.

Full version below.

Top Left: @melled42 Ewen

Top Right: @bamsara Lambert

Bottom Left: @deltamb3r Lamb

Bottom Right: @aychama Royal Guard Lamb

[gracebethartacc]

@annymation hiiiiii I had to draw the villain reprise scene it was haunting me like a ghost (+ doodles to figure out how to translate them to my style but I already showed them to anny in dms lol)

[iamjustaholeforyousir]

Arrogant Son of a Bitch

summary: your father has been searching for suitors for you, and you finally come across an infamous prince, known for all the wrongs amongst the youngs.

warning: slight angst? bit of foul language, bad father figure.

word count: 1222

minors DNI

part1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 part8 part9

You were hiding behind the curtains listening in on the conversation next door, how your father was signing your life away, gifting you to someone like you were a possession. Tears were running down your cheeks as you held your breath, waiting for your guests to make their decision, to accept you or to not. 

You were aware that any choice they made would be disastrous for you; if they said yes, you would be sent with them to some place you don't know, and if they said no, your father would make mockery of you and condemn your life because you were the last daughter and had no luck finding a suitor.

You were aware that you were not the most beautiful princess out there and that you were frequently overshadowed by your sisters and later by other princesses. For you, hiding was easy. Yes, you have had your fair share of crushes, but none of them actually lasted long enough to develop further, and most of them would be snatched away from you by others before they could blossom.

When your name was called as you were beginning to get lost in your own thoughts, you immediately wiped the tears from your cheeks, smiled a couple times, and walked in. You enter the room with manners and grace, keeping your head down and not glancing up at the guests as you stand in front of your father.

When he says, "This is her," you turn to your right and lift your head, and what you see is something from a dream. Shiny brown curls, forest green eyes that seem to encompass the entire wilderness, his bow shaped lips that were the most exquisite shade of pink you had ever seen, he was clad in black, his suit jacket that had a golden pattern, and he stood prim and proper as you were walking in. Taking in his features, you looked at his face as whole, he had an expression on his face, you couldn't name the emotion, but it definitely wasn't one of happiness.

He was not delighted to see you.

And that is what brought you back down to earth from your high.

A more senior man stood next to him; you could tell by the way he looked that they were father and son. This man had a gentler, more forgiving appearance, you bow before them both.

"It is a joy to meet you, darling." The older man said, you tried giving him a smile, but you did not give him a sincere one. It went unnoticed by everyone, except the man in black. He looked at you with a sharp gaze, and something seemed to change in the way he was looking at you. He looked amused now.

you wanted to scoff.

What a twat!

“Y/n, this King Styles of Holmes Chapel, and this is his son Prince Harry.” your father introduced them. This was Prince Harry, who was infamous among the princesses for being a flirt, the kind of man who would make you believe you have something just to spend the night because, from what you heard, he liked having that kind of power over people.

“Y/f/n, if you don't mind, we can send the kids to talk, so they can get to know each other.” said King Styles.

"Of course!  Y/n, show Prince Harry the gardens." There was nothing you could do but follow his instructions. Without saying a word, you signaled to the younger man to follow you and were relieved when he appeared to comprehend. During your entire stroll to the gardens, neither of you spoke a word, and you barely even exchanged glances besides when you needed to give directions.

You sat down on the bench in front of the large fountain in the gardens when you had finally arrived there, and he joined you. you Consider saying something because the stillness was becoming too loud. "Look, I understand that you do not want this, and quite frankly, neither do I." He interrupted your thoughts. You may not have wanted this, but you knew you needed it to get away from your father. He had to agree, and when he admitted he didn't, it clearly showed on your face that you weren't exactly happy. He immediately responded, "I have someone else that I..uh that i have my eyes on, and it's not like.. Look, I just-" "Prince Harry, you are one of the final proposals i will ever get, and i realize that i am not the most gorgeous princess out there, so you do not have to say yes to me, i know all about you, and what all you do,” He clenched his jaw at your oblique charge, “but i really need to get married.” He laughs this off, "Bloody Hell, you are so desperate! For what purpose? Huh? getting dick? That is it?” You were furious at him for using such outrageous language as you gasped at it. "I will have you know, Prince Harry, that I do not intend to do that. I simply desire such a thing because I need to leave this place. I have been forced into courtships for as long as I can remember. You have no idea what it is like for a princess to always be rejected!” “And whose fault is that, then?” He mumbles, you gaze at him in shock, and as his words sink in, your eyes begin to tear up. You turn away from him so he will not see you crying. Harry did not appear to care if he heard you struggle to control the sob that was escaping from your throat despite your best efforts to remain composed.

Until a servant arrived and informed you that your presence was wanted by your father, the quiet between you felt as though it had lasted for eons. Without waiting for Harry, you get up and leave. You could hear his footsteps following you, but you remained reluctant to turn around and look. As you got closer to the door, you slowed down and cleaned your face before waiting for Harry to stand next to you outside. 

He keeps his hands behind his back as you lift your hand to knock on the door, but you can sense his anxiety. What does he have to be worried about? you wanted to yell at him. He is the one who was outrageous and cruel, and he is the one who will return to whatever princess he was pursuing regardless, while you will have to endure yet another encounter with yet another prince.

When you hear your father granting you permission to enter, you attempt to unlock the door once more, but this time he stops you and does it himself; what a prince! He caught you looking at him and noticed the sarcasm seeping from your face, but like everything else, he decided to ignore this as well, moving aside to let you in. Your hand was touching his front, which was too close for you. You looked at him as if to urge him to get away, but he gave you a contemptuous response. When your gazing contest was over, you looked ahead and saw something you had thought you would never see.

@remuslupinwifee @strwbrrydaydreams

[jarofstyles]

Stay Right Here Masterlist

Alpha prince Harry was smitten with omega maid Y/N from the first glance. A taste of forbidden love at it’s strongest.

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing

Warnings: contains ABO elements, alpha Harry, knotting, angst, forbidden love, smut, biting kink, and plenty more.

1. What Started It All

2. The First Meeting

3. The First Day

4. The First Touch

5. Just a Touch

[gurugirl]

how is mean king harry coming along bestie? x

I'm chipping away at it!! I'll be honest... I'm trying to keep the story period appropriate (I'm imagining this being like 1800s??) but it's difficult - the language, the common items, plus all the stuff that goes into what royalty deals with... So it might take me some time because I've been researching things for it, but I've got a chunk of it written up!

Here's a tiny bit of what I have (unedited totally so please bear with me) to get a feel for what the story is going to look like (at least the first part). This takes place before he meets Y/n.

. . .

“Your Majesty, we apologize for the intrusion, but it is time to get to the order of official business.”

“You wouldn’t have to apologize if you weren’t intruding, now would you?” Harry’s groggy voice spoke as he remained sprawled on his back in his warm velvet bed with three naked women lying draped over his limbs still fast asleep and unaware of the two men standing at the King’s chambers door.

“May it please Your Majesty if we return in one half-hours’ time? Our Lord Mayer and the Orders of Council are awaiting you in the Great Hall. This is a very important meeting, Sir.”

Harry knew he had a meeting set up. He knew it was important to keep it and he understood the levity of it all. But he couldn’t resist when he took three lovely young things with him to his chambers and they each let him do as he pleased. He’d just been crowned King for Christ’s sake! He deserved to sew his wild oats before things got heavy and real and it was time to get down to the nitty gritty of his new stifling responsibilities.

“I will find myself in the Great Hall in one half-hours’ time. No need to return.”

“Yes, Sir. And what should we tell our Lord Mayer of your tardiness?”

“Fuck’s sake! I don’t care! Tell them I’ve got my privy member sallying forth and I’m in the sack with three concubines if you like! Our Lord Mayer can wait a half hour. Give him a thumb of brandy. Tha’ should keep him with a smile.”

It was this very attitude that had the folk of Thornekeep nervous. Harry’s proclivity for saying what he pleased with little regard for the people he was saying it to.

[emry-stars-art]

omg i love all of your art but the more cartoony? style u used in that ask about courting is so cute its killing me

Hehe 🥰

Yeah did I ever tell you guys I figured out how to draw chibis :D

[eviesaurusrex]

ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ʟᴏɴᴇʟʏ

Harry Styles x British Royal!Reader

Her Royal Highness Princess YN, daughter to Prince Charles and late Princess Diana, Prince and Princess of Wales, younger sister to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, and Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex, and granddaughter to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and His Royal Highness Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh would’ve never thought to meet Harry Styles by accident—by literally running into him. And Harry Styles would’ve never considered meeting the Princess of England again after that seemingly fateful afternoon.

faceclaim: Saoirse Ronan

author’s note: I still can’t comprehend the immense feedback and support this series got so far! Thank you so damn much for that, it seriously means the world to me <33 Attention: this is long. Like, really long.

series masterlist

;

sunflowerbutterfly Why am I still part of this circus.

Liked by murderbane, archielives, gingerprince and 4 others | 10 comments

archielives 🥺🥲

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I should’ve hidden in your suitcase when you left for the states 💀

↳ archielives I should’ve just grabbed and taken you with me.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly That’s categorized as treason, my friend. Would’ve made you the enemy of the state but not the Will Smith kinda type💀

↳ archielives I don’t care. The President of the United States would’ve understood it.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly … you mean the 🍊? I don’t think so. President Obama? That’s another story.

liked by archielives and murderbane

gingerprince What did Granny do this time?

↳ MacMark Better question: What did she not do?

↳ gingerprince Touché.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I’ll text in our group later ❤️

↳ MacMark Should I bring you something, lovely? Cookies? Lemonade? I think I saw some strawberry lemonade on my way up.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly That would be actually kinda sweet, Meg 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

liked by MacMark and gingerprince

murderbane Who do I have to murder?

liked by archielives, sunflowerbutterfly, MacMark and 2 others

↳ sunflowerbutterfly No one, Mer.

↳ murderbane I would do it.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly No, you wouldn’t because you’re not even capable of killing an insect.

↳ archielives YNN is not wrong.

↳ murderbane I hate you both.

liked by sunflowerbutterfly and archielives

;

“So, let me repeat that to get that straight into my head,” Meredith started while YN sipped her cocktail through the colorful straw accompanying it, chin propped up in her palm. “You have Harry Styles’ number for a week and a half saved in your phone and still didn’t call him? Are you sick, YNN?! Do I have to call an ambulance?” Her voice raised a couple of octaves, but YN only could shrug her shoulders half-heartedly. “It is complicated, okay?” More didn’t leave her mouth before her lips closed around the straw again, and the princess took a long sip, feeling the alcohol seeping into her body and letting her feel lighter. The burdens, usually resting on her shoulders, almost flew above her now.

She knew that alcohol never was the solution, but sometimes even YN couldn’t resist the tempting liquid.

Mer watched her over the edge of her own glass, blonde brows furrowed, and forehead wrinkled. “I saw the pictures, YNN. It didn’t seem complicated in that Starbucks or that park.” Her voice was softer now, and YN felt as if she wanted to cry right on this very chair, in this packed bar, somewhere in London. A thought seemed to strike her best friend while YN started to nibble listless and without appetite on a mozzarella stick. “What did she say?” The princess didn’t need to ask who Meredith meant by she. There was only one she who could ruin her week, and it certainly wasn’t Camilla. Her father’s wife was a nuisance on worst days, but nothing more.

Shrugging, YN let the mozzarella stick fall back into the basket before wiping her hand with the tissue lying next to it. “Rambled something about he isn’t a proper association for a princess and that I have to think about my family and my position.” Her voice was laced with unbelief and something resembling… rage. The latter was unlike YN because she usually was truly a peaceful individual, always searching for a way to solve conflicts—without hatred and anger.

Meredith choked on her cocktail and coughed to get the liquid out of her windpipe before taking a deep breath. “She lost her mind,” her friend decided, and YN laughed joylessly while Mer furrowed her brows even more. “What was her reason for this rubbish?” The blonde princess pulled the straw out of her glass and let it fall onto the tissue next to her hand before grabbing the drink and taking a bigger sip than necessary. “He is a singer, and, most importantly, it’s the way he dresses. His fucking clothes, Mer! Utter bullshit,” seethed the internally boiling woman, and Meredith couldn’t help it but chuckle softly at her rare outbursts, even though the topic wasn’t something she could laugh about. Meredith emptied her beverage and showed a final nod. “It’s official. The Queen of England threw her mind out of the window. No wonder Archie left this shitshow. Sorry.” YN hummed softly; the sound got almost swallowed by the sea of noises around them and the beating music in the background. “Don’t need to apologize, love. It’s true—my life is a shitshow. Think about it. I’m never utterly and truly free, even though they try to mask it that way, but at the same time, ordering me around and trying to control which people I am allowed to consider friends. Utter. Bollocks.” YN fell silent, emptying her cocktail and letting the glass hit the table a tad too hard. “No wonder my mom lost her mind.”

Sadness etched its way into her mind, and the feeling of longing wasn’t an unusual companion for the young woman. In such situations, she missed her mother more than she already did every day of her damned life. YN believed it would be easier to handle if Diana was still alive and still by her side to guide her through the strong tide of protocols, rules, and demanding people. Diana would help her escape from time to time—fully escape. But all of it was a silly, childish dream because her mother was dead, and no power on earth could bring her back.

Camilla would know how to prevent that.

A soft hand clasping hers pulled YN back into reality and out of her spiraling mind. Her eyes found her best friend, a worried and apologetic expression on her face. “Don’t say that,” she pleaded. “You are not your mom. You won’t live like her because I’m here, and I’m here to help and stay. And that’s why I’m telling you to call this angel of a man. I’m sure his personality will brighten up your day. Think about it: He gave you his number. He wanted you to call.” YN swallowed dryly at that thought and lowered her gaze, her pointer finger following the edge of her glass. “He said he wants to see me again. That day of our first meeting,“ the princess confessed to her best friend, and just as anticipated, Meredith almost freaked out but remembered where they were and lowered her tone. “Are you freaking kidding me?! YNN, that’s… that’s amazing! And so sweet!” But the excitement soon died down at the face her friend showed. “Oh no,” the Brisbane mumbled, while the blonde only pulled her shoulders up to her ears—a clear sign of her spiraling thoughts and rising anxiety. “What if he only wants to see me again for the tabloids, the paparazzi, his impact on social media? What if he only sees the princess when he looks at me, the titles, my family, the attention he can gain through me? I experienced all of it, and it never seemed as if that were their intention. Never.”

She really had stood last in line while the universe had distributed the luck a human had in life. She always found the assholes within the sea of individuals. Or maybe she was a magnet for such people; a screaming, beckoning light in the dark ocean that was their miserable life until they could ruin a person. It was exhausting.

Meredith cocked a brow. “Do you really believe a single word you just spat out?” She looked up from her empty glass, chewing on her bottom lip. “I don’t know, Mer. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to think and what not. It’s a mess up here.” She pointed to her head and shook it. “I probably don’t believe a single word floating through my mind, but the fears are there anyway. I can’t turn them down or even off. And that’s probably why I haven’t called him yet.” Her best friend sighed while she softly patted YN’s hand. “What about a deal? You gonna call this poor man who is definitely sulking somewhere in England, asking himself what he did wrong because his phone still isn’t ringing, and if he turns out to be an asshole like everyone else, you hit me up, and I will end this bastard. Deal?”

Swallowing, YN nodded, and suddenly, Meredith pushed the basket with the mozzarella sticks right in front of her. “Perfect. And now, you’re gonna eat those damn sticks because they’re part of your culinary journey in becoming a peasant—and because I paid eleven pounds for these bastards.”

;

sunflowerbutterfly Hi, I’m YN, and that’s 100% me.

By the way: Behold and witness my immaculate photoshop skills. ✨Digital art is my passion✨

Liked by murderbane, archielives, and 3 others | 4 comments

murderbane Do I have to move my ass over to Kensington?

↳ sunflowerbutterfly …no.

↳ murderbane Call him. NOW.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Stop screaming, I’m sensitive!

archielives Call him. NOW.

liked by murderbane

↳ sunflowerbutterfly WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

↳ archielives Call him.

↳ archielives Now.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Remind me again not to send you anything for your birthday.

↳ murderbane I will send you something, Arch!

liked by archielives

;

It took her another day to finally take the phone from its station.

—

Harry had just ended a fresh verse for a new song that had stuck in his head ever since that day, as his phone started to vibrate, announcing an incoming call. His band members had never seen him react this fast; usually, Harry barely acknowledged his phone when writing songs inside the studio, but in the past almost two weeks, he had acted differently, and not only Sarah suspected something.

“Yes, hello?” He sounded out of breath, his heart jumping in his chest and up to his throat. “Mr. Styles, this is the Royal Palace of Kensington. Her Royal Highness, Princess YN, would like to talk to you. I’m connecting the call now. Have a good night, sir,” the authoritative, nameless voice explained without waiting for even a second if that was alright. Well, it certainly was, and probably no one in his right mind would decline a call from the palace, so it made sense. Still, it felt odd to the singer, but those thoughts vanished immediately as a short beeping sound announced the connected call.

Silence settled into the line before her voice spoke up. “Uhm… hi? Oh gosh, is this even the right number? Shit. Uhm… if you are not Harry Styles, then I am truly and immensely sorry for bothering you, and even if you are Harry Styles, I am sorry for bothering you so late. Shit, I did not check the time before deciding this, I-…” Harry chuckled lowly and closed his pen. “YN?” His voice asked softly into his phone and let her pause. “It’s me, and it’s totally fine. You didn’t wake or disturb me,” he promised with a gentle smile spreading on his lips.

Sarah and Mitch, who had wanted to go over some things, now sat awfully still and quiet in the studio and listened to him with wide eyes.

A deep, relieved sigh traveled through the call. “Oh God, for a second, I seriously thought I gave them the wrong number. I am too bad with numbers. This always ends in a catastrophic disaster, so please, keep that in mind if you ever want me to calculate something. I am not even able to remember my own phone number correctly, which I have owned since 2009. And now I’m rambling. Gosh, I am so sorry. And now I’m apologizing again. Universe, please send some help.” The last sentence was definitely not meant for his ears, but her whispering was too precious, and Harry was glad he had heard that. It made her even more human—and so, so relatable. “I keep that in mind,” he grinned, leaning back into his chair but turning a tad serious now. “I thought I’d never hear from you.” He almost mumbled the words, not wanting to pressure her in anything or make her feel guilty. Another sigh reached his ear. “I know, and I’m sorry for that too. I had a lot of responsibilities, and after a day that started at four-thirty in the morning and ended way past ten in the night, I didn’t feel like I would be great company. And… well, I am not self-confidence in person, so that came on top.”

Harry felt his heart leap in his chest at her words. So she thought about me too, the singer grinned before standing up and moving to the cushioned corner in the studio. “I totally get that, don’t worry. I just thought… well. I don’t know what I thought. Maybe that I made a mistake or offended you in any way, I wasn’t aware of.” The brunette heard a chuckle, and he had to laugh softly as well. “Maybe we should decide right here, right now, to just jump into the cold water in any case of doubts and episodes of overthinking,” YN suggested with another chuckle, and Harry thought that he had never grinned this wide in his entire life. “I think that’s a great idea. Maybe we should toast to our deal with another coffee.”

He swallowed hard after the suggestion, which had slipped out of his mouth without a second thought on how that sounded, but her answering voice, instead of the beeping sound of an ended call, saved his rapidly beating heart from exploding. “Smooth, Mr. Styles, exceptionally smooth.” He could hear her grin from the opposite end of London. “What about a day trip? Just… getting out of London and maybe somewhere more peaceful? Don’t get me wrong, I love this city with my entire heart, but-“ Harry continued her sentence. “-but the paparazzi are horrible.”

He knew that feeling all too well.

“Yes! Exactly this. So… Would you be up for it? We don’t have to drive far. Maybe Reading? Oxford is a bit farther, but not as far as Brighton or Portsmouth…” Harry had to admit that he loved to listen to her ramble, slipping into the depths of her mind. It was the most adoring thing he had ever witnessed, and he hoped instantly to hear it even more often. “We can go wherever you want to go,” he returned and meant it with every single part of his being. “Reading, Oxford, Cambridge, Brighton, Bath… Road trips are fun.” He could hear her smile again—she almost always let a very short, very quiet chuckle out while forming her lips into a smile. It was strange how fast he had caught up to one of her habits. Harry had to ask himself what else he could explore when spending more time with the princess. Everything in his body tingled at the prospect of more time with YN.

“Bath is a bit far for only a day trip, don’t you think? And… do I need to prepare something special for a… road trip?” The princess spoke the word as if it meant traveling to the moon, and Harry had to cock a brow. “Your Royal Highness, do you try to let me know that you never experienced the magic of a road trip?” His voice had gained a teasing tone, the nervousness finally disappearing. Her groan made him laugh under his breath. “Do not dare and tease me about my lack of experience and knowledge! Meredith—my best friend—is not particularly hyped for long car journeys, and Archie—my other best friend—didn’t have a driver’s license until he moved to the States. And asking my two shadows always seemed kind of… odd. Not to mention my family, even though Harry would have done it if I had asked really nicely.”

The other Harry—it was funny thinking like that about himself—hummed, interested, listening intently about her life and family. He only had known the things made public, and even those were probably straight-up lies. Well, most of them, at least. “I would never think of it,” he grinned before humming again, deep in thought now.

“We would need a good playlist for the road.”

He could hear her scribble on paper.

“Consider this done,” YN decided, and Harry thought further.

“Snacks and drinks, of course.”

“That’s my job as well.”

“You can cook?” He didn’t intend to sound this surprised, but YN gladly only laughed wholeheartedly. “Yes, I am capable of following recipes and actually am able to cook and bake without them—without poisoning everyone around me, thank you very much.” Harry fully ignored Sarah’s and Mitch’s stares at his loud laugh escaping him now. “I’ll keep that in mind. But I’m providing the drinks. Is it true that you love strawberry lemonade, or is that just a straight-up lie created by tabloids to boost beverage production?” He waited for an answer while already planning to ask his mom for her recipe. “This one is, surprisingly, very true. But don’t believe the things about my morning routine if you ever stumble upon them. Who drinks Earl Grey with raw eggs? Is that even a helpful concoction in the eyes of the beauty industry? I believe not.“

It was official: Harry could listen to her all day long and wouldn’t get tired of her voice. Quite the opposite was the case—he craved more and more of those soft sounds leaving her lips.

“I can outdo this easily. I only have to say three words: bull testicles moisturizer.” Her escaping laugh was almost like music in his ear, and he wanted to write songs about it.

Harry, deep breaths. The century’s biggest crush is showing.

But it was too hard when she was not only stunningly beautiful but also funny, intelligent, and one of the gentlest and most compassionate human beings walking on this planet.

“Tabloids only hire a certain kind of people, don’t they?” YN still laughed but took a deep breath. “Okay, back to the topic at hand: do we need a picnic blanket? I mean, it is still February, and the last snow only melted yesterday, but… I don’t know, the thought seemed so enticing in my head, but it is probably not manageable without getting a horrible cold. Which I cannot cast upon you, fine sir, and I am not allowed to get sick any time soon either.” Harry could hear incomprehensible mumble reaching his ear, and he already figured out what that meant. “Busy schedule?” He desperately wanted to know more about her life; maybe he could help her a bit, and if it would just contain road trips here and there, he would do it. “Kind of. The birthday of my uncle—Edward—is coming up, and Granny is head over heels for the idea of a ball. Nothing big or fancy like the Royal Caledonian Ball in May, but still something I have to attend in a fancy, uncomfortable dress and torturing heels,” she explained with a soft groan, and Harry smiled at her being so completely normal. If the world only knew that… “How about that: We will leave the picnic blanket for now, but we’ll take it on a road trip another time?” He had spoken the words without thinking—again. He wanted to hit himself.

“Are you already planning another trip with me, Harry?” In his panicky screaming mind, he couldn’t process her tone, or if YN smiled, so he stammered around it. “I… It shouldn’t… I didn’t…” But her gentle laugh silenced him, though he could feel the blood rushing into his cheeks. “I was only teasing you, Harry. I’d be honored to have a road trip companion. So… When do you think we can do it? I’d love to say we could leave right away or tomorrow, but I’m visiting a children’s hospital.” His heart almost jumped out of his chest, and Harry had to take a deep breath. “What about next week? Tuesday? Most tourists will be around during the weekend.” He tried to think about anything that would make this day impossible to maneuver around it. “Tuesday sounds perfect. Do you want my number? Just in case something comes up?” Harry swallowed, eyes widening, but he nodded even though YN couldn’t see it. “That would be great, though there won’t be coming anything up.” He would know how to prevent that from happening.

After he had scribbled down her number next to the verse he had written earlier this evening, there was a short silence between them before YN cleared her throat.

“…Harry?”

He perked up. “Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you were my collision partner in that Starbucks.”

The singer could hear her smile appearing again—and he smiled as well.

“Me too, YN.”

;

haroldsmind He can’t stop writing. Wonder why that’s so. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with those phone calls he always accepts within a millisecond, nope 👀 Sincerely, Mitch (yes, I stole his phone for this post)

Liked by annetwist, gemmastyles, pillowpersonpp and 3 others | 5 comments

jefezoff Or that free Tuesday he demands he needs 👀

gemmastyles Phone calls? I need details? 👀

annetwist Mhmmmm 😇

haroldsmind And I wondered where my phone was. Thanks, man.

liked by mitchrowland, jefezoff, and pillowpersonpp

↳ mitchrowland I had to do it.

↳ haroldsmind And why’s that?

↳ mitchrowland Capturing it for the future so I can say “I told you”?

liked by pillowpersonpp and jefezoff

pillowpersonpp Don’t mess this up, Haz, thank you.

↳ haroldsmind I don’t know what you mean.

↳ pillowpersonpp Don’t act dumb, I want to meet her.

sunflowerbutterfly And suddenly, a bouquet of flowers appeared on my doorsteps 🙊🥺

Liked by MacMark, gingerprince, archielives and 4 others | 6 comments

archielives Excuse me while I cry in my pillows (out of pure happiness)

liked by MacMark and murderbane

MacMark Mhmmmm? 👀

↳ sunflowerbutterfly 👉🏻👈🏻

↳ MacMark I want to hear everything after that horrible family dinner tonight.

gingerprince Okay, yeah. Interesting. Do you mind pointing me in the direction of the suitor, so I can play out the big brother act?

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I seriously don’t know what you mean.

↳ gingerprince I call bullshit.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Ah ah ah! Don’t let Grandmother dearest hear that. She could get the impression the Americans rub off on you 💀

liked by MacMark

↳ MacMark What a shock it might be if she learns that Harry was already like that before we even met 👀

liked by sunflowerbutterfly

;

YN would’ve lied if she said she wasn’t nervous as she climbed into the waiting Jeep after Bernard had pulled up in front of the palace. He had handed her the keys with a smile—he knew just as well as she that she hadn’t driven her car ever since returning from Oxford—while Aaron and Egil situated themselves in the black Audi behind her. At least she would have some privacy before picking up Harry, so she could try and calm her nerves a bit.

“Everything will be fine. Everything will be okay. It’s nothing. Just a day with the hottest and most handsome and wonderful male individual gracing this earth with his presence. It’s nothing unusual, YN. Nothing to worry about.”

She tried to calm herself with the newfound whispered mantra but failed miserably, even until the last intersection she had to cross. It was as if she was back at square one and as if the nightly phone—and even FaceTime—calls didn’t happen for the last six days. It was maddening.

Stopping at the given address marked the point of no return, especially because the door leading to his property had already got opened, and Harry bloody Styles appeared in all his handsomely glory. He held a basket in hand on which two thick blankets laid, neatly rolled up, and an umbrella in his other hand—you never knew in England. Harry turned after closing the door and spotted the described Jeep immediately—plus the sleek black Audi waiting behind it.

“Hey,” the man smiled after putting the basket in the trunk and climbing into the car seat. YN released a relieved sigh and returned the smile. “Hey,” was all she could return before—in an impulsive reaction—she leaned over the middle console and pressed a featherlike kiss on his cheek. He chuckled after YN pulled herself back onto her side of the car, cheeks trying to challenge a hydrant. “I guess the flowers arrived?” The princess nodded with another smile and started the engine to leave London behind for the day. “They did. And… and they are breathtakingly beautiful. Thank you. How did you know that periwinkles and cream roses are my favorites?” A curious expression settled on her slightly concentrated face as she maneuvered through the heavy London-ish traffic, and Harry couldn’t stop himself from staring and watching her. “I didn’t,” he grinned softly. “I just went into that flower shop, saw the florist unpacking a fresh box of cream roses and periwinkles, and thought, They look gorgeous, I have to send her them, and the rest is history, as one would say.”

She could feel how her cheeks proceeded with their goal to be just as similar as a hydrant while turning onto the A40, heading to Oxford. They had decided upon her beloved city of scarce freedom two nights ago while talking about their respective lives, and YN had sucked every word of him up like much-needed oxygen. But somewhere along the FaceTime call, during which she had settled in the comforts of her bed, the princess had fallen asleep, and Harry still couldn’t comprehend the burning but soft, warm feeling that had spread through his body at the sight of her peaceful sleeping face—because his voice had guided her into slumber. He still felt privileged because he had seen her in her most vulnerable state so far: in the comforts of her home no one outside her family and friends had ever seen before and her trust to let him see her sleep.

Don’t try to talk yourself out of it, Harry. This crush is still there, and you are falling even harder for this woman.

It was probably very true.

“Then you must be a wizard—or the Fates had their fun,” YN grinned, eyes quickly jumping up to the rear mirror before changing the lane, black Audi still behind her. She could never outrun them, not even if she took lessons with the Fast and the Furious cast. “You know, I can drive us as well.” But at his words, the princess settled into an even more comfortable seating position—almost slouching in the driver’s seat. “Nah-uh. You can drive us back home if you like, but maybe I won’t let you then either because it was my idea.” She paused, and her thumb softly stroked over the steering wheel. “And I missed driving, to be quite honest. Haven’t done it since returning to London full-time.” Harry slouched as well; long legs outstretched and an elbow propped up on the small space next to the window. “So, this is a drive along memory lane?” He asked, and YN nodded with a radiant smile. “It totally is, yep. I always took this road when driving back on Sundays if my presence was needed in good ol’ London. Same car, same black Audi behind me, with the exact same men inside it. But this now… this is much better.” Harry could witness the transformation from that radiant smile into a shy one and—again—couldn’t stop staring.

YN chuckled, embarrassed, and shook her head softly. “That sounded too cheesy, even for my standards,” she mumbled, but suddenly, she felt a warm, much bigger hand enveloping the one resting on the gear stick, lacing their fingers together. The princess only spared a quick glance down but was taken aback at how good their hands looked together; how they fitted almost perfectly. She had never thought that this was possible—that her brain went into overdrive just at the mere sight of two hands together. Or that her stomach fluttered like a tornado of butterflies at the feeling of his warm skin pressed against hers in the most innocent but intimate gestures this world had to offer.

But there was probably always a time for firsts.

“Not too cheesy,” Harry almost whispered, and YN couldn’t stop but push their fingers closer together, getting a better hold on them and reveling in this unexpected feeling. “Okay,” she grinned softly and pointed her finger in the direction of the audio system. “Would you mind? I’m a bit… preoccupied.” Laughing, Harry watched her as she helplessly shrugged her shoulders; one hand at the steering wheel and the other clasped in the soft embrace of his hand. “Of course.” He touched the display to wake it up and was suddenly faced with a fully prepared playlist. Instead of looking through the titles YN had put on there, he only started the list and widened his eyes as the first tunes of Heart Of The Country by Paul McCartney filled the car.

“Where did you…-“ Harry couldn’t even end his question, too stunned he felt, and YN reveled in his expressions. “I wasn’t an A-student for nothing.” The satisfied grin was accompanied by her thumb gently caressing his hand—YN could not not cave into that desire. “I took my research very seriously,” the princess nodded proudly, while Harry leaned even further back into the seat and shook his head unbelievingly. “You constantly amaze me, Your Highness,” he finally spoke as Heart Of The Country ended, and Bridge Over Troubled Water started. YN granted herself one very quick look over to him, saw his slightly blushed cheeks, the small smile on his lips, those mesmerizing eyes settled entirely upon her, and looked back to the traffic in front of her.

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

She really wasn’t sure.

His following chuckle would’ve swept her off her feet if she didn’t sit already.

“It’s more than just a good thing.” So much more.

;

ynismyqueen Excuse me while I sob uncontrollably.

SHE WAS ONLY A HANDFUL OF FEET AWAY FROM ME.

I BREATHED THE SAME AIR AS SHE DID

‼️AND HARRY WAS WITH HER‼️

Liked by royalistsbitch, yn_harryshipper, yourfan1, hsfan1, and 358 others | 99 comments

royalistsbitch I spilled my tea.

yn_harryshipper WHAT?! IS MY DREAM REALLY COMING TRUE

↳ ynismyqueen I THINK SO??!!! They sat SO close to one another 😩 And their expressions were EVERYTHING 😩

↳ yn_harryshipper screaming crying dying right now.

hsfan1 another account posted the pictures of Harry, but I can’t find them anymore!!! 😭

↳ hsfan2 perhaps you mean harrystylesfanpage?

↳ hsfan1 Yes. YES! Thanks so much!

liked by harrystylesfanpage and hsfan2

yourfan1 Can somebody recall a day in the past months where she looked this happy???

↳ yourfan2 Nope.

↳ ynismyqueen Only the day she met Harry in that Starbucks

↳ yourfan1 True! I missed her smile 🥺

↳ yourfan2 +1

↳ ynismyqueen +2

harrystylesforever I probably died, and this is just the afterlife where all your ships become a reality.

Liked by ynismyqueen, yourfan1, hsfan1, hsfan2, harrystylesfanpage, and 1,219 others | 311 comments

hsfan1 i kinda love the content, but i kinda feel bad because those photos violet their privacy, urgh

liked by yourfan1 and 113 others

↳ yourfan1 Same, bestie, same.

hsfan2 Look at how they sit 😮‍💨

ynismyqueen Still not over these two. And it’s so sweet that they do it here in Oxford because Oxford means so much to YN 🥹❤️

↳ yourfan2 Had the same thought. She probably showed him her favorite spots in the city 🥺

harrystylesfanpage We’re really rooting for these two now. Haters gonna hate soon, but we don’t care. We love a happy Harry! And a happy YN!

;

sunflowerbutterfly Who needs cooks when they have a cooking Harry? 🤷🏼‍♀️

Liked by murderbane, gingerprince, MacMark, and 3 others | 4 comments

MacMark Harry Styles is in the palace kitchen, and nobody thought to give me a heads up?

↳ sunflowerbutterfly We sneaked in. No grand announcements possible 🤷🏼‍♀️

↳ MacMark Aha 👀

gingerprince You are lucky I’m not there.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly 🙄💀

↳ gingerprince But seriously, YNN. I wanna have a word with him if this continues.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I don’t know what you mean, Henry Charles Albert David.

↳ murderbane COULD YOU PLEASE STOP WITH THE SELF DENIAL?!

liked by gingerprince

↳ gingerprince Thank you, Meredith. What she said 👆🏻

liked by murderbane

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I hate you both. If you’ll excuse me, I have a guest.

archielives YOU GO GIRL!!!

murderbane Will the cooks keep their mouths shut?

↳ archielives They will. They adore YN to pieces.

haroldsmind Chef Harold is here to save the day👨🏽‍🍳

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Well, the food is already smelling (and looking) delicious

↳ murderbane I can’t see the first reply, but I’m sure it’s Harry, so here is the 1,000,000£ question of the evening: Do you really mean the food or the cook only inches away from said food?

liked by archielives

↳ sunflowerbutterfly 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

↳ archielives Those emojis won’t save you, dear.

liked by murderbane

;

“Do you need anything else, Your Highness?” One of the cooks asked after Harry had divided the spaghetti between two plates—the plain white ones, not the fancy porcelain with the white gold designed edges—and YN shook her head while Harry gathered the two plates and a bottle of wine. She already held the two mugs in hand, out of which they would drink it. Who needs fancy glasses made out of crystal? “No, Chef Laurent, but thank you. You all can head home and to bed—we will be just fine. But please don’t lock the freezer, that would be really great, and I would appreciate it on an entirely different level.”

Who knew, maybe she craved ice cream at night?

The chef of chefs nodded and started to usher everyone out of his realm. “You know it is only Laurent, Your Highness,” he scolded her with a smile, but YN shrugged. “And you know I told you I would start using only your name if you drop the title as well. Good night!” YN coaxed the bottle out of Harry’s grasp, smile on her face, so that he could use both hands for the plates, and guided him back to her apartment after passing the several stairs to the second floor of the east wing. It was far enough away from her brother, Kate, and the kids to be quiet enough but not too far away if YN felt the need for her eldest brother’s hugs or advice from her sister-in-law. And so the entire second-floor wing belonged to her—including the attic above her six-room apartment.

“They really love you,” Harry said, and the princess cocked her head slowly from side to side, unsure. “Maybe. Maybe they are just friendly because they have known me my entire life and always had to keep up with me stealing the cakes out of the cooling room. Maybe they are just friendly because they get paid to be. Who knows.” She always had a hard time believing that people actually liked her for herself and not for the title, her family, or position—the latter containing connections and relationships with powerful and influential people. She had learned early in her life that it wasn’t her title that contained said things because even with a title, one could be as insignificant as a stone in the mud.

Her uncle Andrew was only the most recent example. The thought alone made her skin prickle in the most unpleasant of ways.

But Harry thought differently about the kitchen staff. “I believe they do. I’m not blind; I saw their faces when we entered, and you greeted them. They love you. They would cook you the grandest dinner in the middle of the night if you’d ask. And, to be honest, it doesn’t surprise me a bit.” They had reached the last step and turned right to pass the long corridor and finally reach the french doors to her very own realm. “Why doesn’t it?” YN had to ask. Harry grinned down at the blonde, and if he didn’t carry their dinner, he would stretch a hand out to push that blonde strand out of her face and behind her ear, maybe steal a quick touch of her soft skin. But instead, she did it herself with a hectic move which he knew that it screamed insecurity. “Because you, YN, are a compassionate and loving person. You treat people with unbelievable kindness and tend to them if they need you. I saw those pictures from your trip to the hospital—every single one of these kids, and even their parents and the staff loved you. They respect you. It’s who you are. And it’s inevitable to fall to your feet.”

He swallowed before turning again and walking to the mentioned doors, the princess closely next to him. She opened one of them without a single word and let them into her sacred halls. Harry let his eyes wander again—they had been up here shortly before going down to the kitchen and making dinner—and he still couldn’t grasp the coziness of this place. Everything seemingly screamed “YN” in every octave and sound he could imagine. He may not know her for long, but it was enough to picture the perfect home for the woman now striding to the small coffee table in front of the fireplace to clean it off books and paperwork. Two comfortable-looking pillows found their way onto the softly looking carpet; two fluffy blankets followed just as closely. He carried the two plates over, settled them onto the table, and plopped down next to YN on the ground, watching her as she skillfully decapitated the wine and poured it into the two mugs.

She finally looked up to him again because even while sitting, Harry almost loomed over her. “Which one do you like?” The question got asked with both mugs in hands, raising them now onto eye level, so Harry could inspect each of them more closely. “A fancy and noteworthy selection, miss, and a tough decision.” She nodded, suppressing her grin. “Indeed,” YN answered with the most serious tone she could master. “I will happily take the I survived my trip to New York City mug if you don’t mind.” The princess handed the white mug with the yellow cab over to the singer while taking a better hold of her own mug Meredith had made for her birthday three years ago. The dark blue “YN’s Rule #16 - Never mess with a Princess’ coffee if you want to live” still made her chuckle every time she looked at that mug. She may have graduated with honors, but she definitely had pulled many all-nighters with Mer to watch every single episode of NCIS. She still was a young woman with a burning passion for tv shows and Hollywood movies, after all.

“An excellent choice, sir,” YN grinned before taking the first sip of some white wine she had found in the kitchen—and which suited their dinner if one could believe a world-known chef. But then, she turned serious again, swallowing dryly before opening her mouth and asking the boiling and tickling question. “You said something about it being inevitable to fall to my feet. Does… does this statement include… well, you?” Only a second after the question mark had left her lips, the princess felt the blood rushing into her face, and her lungs stopped working entirely while her heart working overtime. Almost hectically, the blonde turned to their food and tried to find the manual on how to use a fork again in her brain. But emptiness was all that greeted her up there. “I’m sorry,” YN whispered then, not daring to raise her gaze. “I shouldn’t have asked that. It is none of my business, I suppose, so… forget I ever asked.” The muscle in her chest ached, and YN wished desperately to reverse the past twenty seconds to return to the fluffy mood they had created with those silly mugs.

A warm finger underneath her chin guided YN’s face gently into another direction, pushing her to look Harry right into his handsome face, those sea green eyes intently wandering over her face before they stared right into hers. “If you allow it.” His voice was a husky whisper in the silence of her living room. YN blinked slowly, not daring to move too fast in utter fear she would destroy this moment when moving too suddenly. “What?” Her voice had never sounded this breathless in her entire life. Harry softly grabbed her chin with his thumb, his pointer finger still resting underneath it. “If you allow me to fall to your feet, I will happily do it. I’m probably already at your feet without even knowing it, hoping to have the honor to get to know you better, spend more time with you, show you how you deserve to be treated every single minute of every single day. To cook for you after a road trip, full of singing along the playlist, in that massive kitchen downstairs, while you’re sitting on the counter, reaching for every spice I need, adorable smile on your pretty face. To show you my kitchen and living room where we could play Monopoly all night long while eating Chinese takeout, reading the notes of our fortune cookies out loud. To take you out to a proper sushi restaurant because takeout sushi doesn’t count. Convincing you there that green tea and sushi are a delicious combination. I will do all that and more if you allow it.”

Harry stopped for a short moment to take a deep breath and tried to soothe his rapidly beating heart. Forgotten was the steaming pasta next to them, the wine in their silly mugs, the unfamiliar environment the singer found himself in.

Only YN had space in his mind.

Only YN was important now.

“Will you allow it, YN?”

And her barely observable nod was everything he had ever wanted.

;

haroldsmind Incognito 101: how to pull off the sunglasses-hat-combination without a single ray of sunshine.

Liked by pillowpersonpp, gemmastyles, annetwist, jefezoff, and 5 other | 8 comments

gemmastyles I think I just hyperventilated.

↳ annetwist Deep breaths, love 😇

↳ gemmastyles Don’t be the calm one now, Mom!!!!

jefezoff So, this is where you disappeared to today 👀

↳ mitchrowland I told you 👀

↳ jefezoff I know, but I thought it couldn’t be true 👀

pillowpersonpp Excuse me, I have to get my worldview in a new order.

sunflowerbutterfly I just entered this magical realm and suddenly faced myself. That’s surprising.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly (No, it is not because you asked very lovely if you could post this one here.)

↳ haroldsmind 😊

liked by gemmastyles, pillowpersonpp, annetwist, and 2 others

↳ gemmastyles He is using emojis. I’m repeating, he is using emojis.

↳ haroldsmind 🙄

liked by gemmastyles and sunflowerbutterfly

;

Lying between pillows, blankets, and comforters spread over the fluffy carpet in front of the now crackling fireplace, YN held Pride and Prejudice securely in her hands. Harry laid beside her, propped up on one arm, eyes fully taking in the woman next to him, while her lips moved and let the words of her most favorite novel out in the air.

“But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself.”

The singer smiled at the sight of her closing eyes with a deep, comfortable sigh escaping YN and letting the old book slowly rest on her chest. The cover, though… “Wait. Is this the same book…?” Harry didn’t even need to end his question because YN turned her head, eyes opening, and her slight grin gave him the answer. “It looks so old. I remember thinking the same, especially while holding it, but I thought Harry, she would never bring an old book to a Starbucks.” Now, her grin held a piece of secret knowledge, and the princess sat up in their self-made coziness. Harry followed her close, still resting his weight on one hand that rested closely behind her back, and looked over her shoulder to see what she was doing. Her fingers let the pages fall back into their usual position and opened the first page. The tips of her fingers softly stroked over the old, yellowish paper until they reached the printed year of release. His eyes fell on the black ink above her finger, and the singer felt as if his eyes would pop out of his head.

“What the….-“ His voice died down, and he scooted closer, not thinking about it further, and not even the pressing feeling of their legs against each other could pull him out of his disbelieving daze. “This can’t be…” But her chuckle proved otherwise. “It is,” she grinned, and Harry stretched out his hand to intently grace the surface of this first edition. “And you brought this first edition to a Starbucks? Seriously?” YN chuckled again and let her thumb tenderly stroke over the cover after closing it. “It’s a bit… no, very posh, I know. But I never owned another copy of Pride and Prejudice because I never think about it when I’m in a bookstore. And… I’m biased in buying another edition, to be quite honest. They were my firsts, you know? Thanks to them, I fell in love with literature, with books, and the written word. It feels like betraying my one true love.” YN chuckled with a head shake.

But Harry understood it and nodded his head. “It’s like for me with music, with my guitars, my piano. I understand. It’s still more extra than I have ever thought could be possible.” YN shoved him playfully to his side, and the singer laughed loudly, the princess following close. “Better carrying one first edition volume rather than all three, don’t you think?” The brunette grinned up at the woman still sitting upright on their makeshift island of comfort. “True,” he agreed, and after YN had put the book on the soft cushions of the sofa next to them, she settled back onto their island, head slowly resting on Harry’s outstretched arm.

She moved her face to look up at him, furrowing her brows in question. “Is that okay?” The man hummed in agreement at the almost whispered ask—soft expression settling on his face while watching the blonde woman, settling closer to his body without even thinking.

“Was there ever a time when you wanted to do something different than what you do?” Her question pulled Harry back to her after losing himself in the view of her right next to him, head resting comfortably on his biceps. One shoulder got shrugged, and he was quiet for longer than intended because YN had started to play with a loose thread on his hoodie. “Before everything—before X-Factor and finding the boys, starting the band, going solo—I thought of attending university as my sister did. Maybe something along law, sociology, and business. But then everything changed, and I remember how I once sat in my room, trying to figure everything out, and thought how music had changed my life and, finally, that music was the one thing I wanted to do. Plus, I never was a good student, so university would have probably been a struggle throughout.”

While talking, Harry had looked upwards to the ceiling, but now, his gaze settled back on YN, realizing that she had observed him while telling her all these things. And at the sight of her bright blue eyes, which always reminded him of a spring or summer sky, he had to ask something. “Do you mind it?” Creases formed on her pale forehead as YN knitted her eyebrows. “What do you mean?” Her voice was quiet, not to disturb the peace they had found after dinner. “Do you mind I never went to university? Never graduated and earned degrees?” The princess propped herself up on one arm and starring down onto the brunette with still knitted brows. “Are you asking me if I mind that you’re a singer?” At his nod, YN sighed gently and, with her fingertip, booped his nose. “Of course not, silly,” she smiled. “I actually admire you and your decision to do what you love, to follow your heart. It’s more than I have ever done.” Now it was her turn to shrug her shoulder. “My decision to study literature was the only thing in my life I actually decided myself without getting pressured into it.”

Now thinking more closely about it, YN decided that her life was not only sad but pathetic.

“What would you do if you had the choice?” Harry’s question let YN settle back closely next to him—he was so perfectly warm and invitingly comfortable to snuggle up to, and his arm the best pillow in the world. She didn’t need to think long about it. “Probably something with literature. Maybe an editor—finding new talents in the writing industry, publishing them, giving them a voice. Or maybe something with art.” The easel in the other room almost screamed for her undivided attention. Harry looked surprised but impressed. “I didn’t know you painted,” he said, and YN hummed, moving her head slowly closer and closer to his shoulder. “Few people know about it. The public does not belong to this circle of knowing people, though. There are few things they don’t know about me, and I revel in every single one of them—my painting and drawing are a part of it.” Harry chuckled at the mischievous glimmer in her blue eyes. “You little devil,” the singer whispered, a grin tucking at his lips, and, without a second thought, pressed a tender kiss to the princess’s forehead and hairline.

YN closed her eyes at the feeling of his lips against her skin; relishing in it because it had been long since her heart had fluttered like an excited bird in a cage, shortly before it would get opened to release the little creature into freedom. “It’s a lonely life,” she suddenly whispered, barely above her breath, because the princess had never admitted this part of her mind, not even to Archibald or Meredith. “Tell me about it.” Harry’s response was just as quiet as hers. “There isn’t much to tell. It is just… lonely, especially when one of your parents is already long dead and your father has a new wife you never warmed up to, and when you are constantly surrounded by people who do not care for you. I’m barely alone. And yet I feel incredibly lonesome. I have Meredith, of course, but she has her own wonderfully successful life, and I am so immensely proud of her and her achievements. Archibald escaped this life because it was easy for him—too far behind in succession to have a realistic chance. But I cannot… leave. I have to stay and hope to not lose my mind like my mother somewhere along the road and do something irrational and destroyingly.” YN stopped to breathe deeply; trying to fight down the rising tears. “I’ve never expected to be so lonely and to feel like I am trapped constantly,” she finally muttered, feeling Harry’s arm slowly enveloping her shoulders and tightening his hold on her. But it didn’t hurt—quite the opposite: she felt protected in the best possible way.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered into her blonde hair, feeling her shrug under his arm and hand. “I should be used to it by now, but sometimes the feeling and thoughts return like a crashing wave, and I have to figure out how to prevent being dragged down under the surface by the current and thrown into the ocean. I never intend to become a delicious snack for sharks.” The singer laughed under his breath at the comparison but tightened his hold further nonetheless. “If you ever consider finding a job, let me know. You would be a great songwriter,” he tried to lighten up the mood but meant it at the same time because YN was good with words. Probably better than many people in the industry. “Don’t be silly,” she laughed against his shoulder. “I would write novels, short stories, or children’s books—fewer rules, more creative freedom. Songs have to rhyme, have a rhythm, and I am not good with either of those. I preferably enjoy music made by others than me—yours, for example.” YN lightly nudged the man into his side, and while she tried to nuzzle her face into the soft fabric of his—deliciously smelling—hoodie, her eyes fell on top the small clock settling atop the still crackling fireplace, but the flames slowly died down, the wood already half-eaten.

Her eyes shot open, but YN didn’t let her body shoot up in panic. Instead, the princess hummed interested, acknowledging, and Harry made a questioning noise somewhere deep in his chest.

“Do not panic—“

“It’s never soothing to start a sentence like that.”

Giggling, YN looked up and reached for his lips to put her fingers on top of them in order to silence the man. “Shush.” She could feel him smile against her fingertips. “Do not panic, but it’s already half past six.” Her voice lowered itself as if it was forbidden to be still wide awake. Now it was Harry’s turn to look at the clock with wide eyes. “How did that happen,” he asked, curiosity clear in his voice. “I don’t know. Do you mind? Is it bad? Do you have an early morning?”

She should’ve checked earlier—or asked him before they even drove to Oxford, to begin with.

His headshake soothed her bubbling anxiety. “No, of course not. Everything is alright. It just didn’t feel like we spent more than eight hours talking and reading. And I don’t want to… to let this end already.” YN watched how his eyes jumped over every inch of her face, desperately trying to remember every mark and freckle. “Hey.” Her soft voice and even softer skin of her knuckles caressing his cheek let him stop. “I will not disappear, H. I will be right here.” The nickname had slipped without thought, and the singer felt his body burn and heart racing. “Okay,” he mumbled with a dry mouth. “I am only a phone call or text away. And if I don’t react immediately, don’t worry—I will call or text back, pinky promise.” YN moved her hand off his cheek and stretched her pinky out for him to grab with his own. He did it without hesitation. “Same goes for you, y’know?” The princess nodded slowly before taking another glance at the clock.

“I can drive you home if you want,” she suggested, but the knitted brows of the singer let her stop right away. “That’s not how this works. I’m the one who brings you back home. I won’t let you drive alone back here, in the dark and cold. Nope, not gonna happen.” YN sighed with a smile tucking at the corners of her mouth. “Well, okay, fine gentleman. At least let me call you a cab and bring you down to the gate then.” She would’ve loved to ask Bernard if he could drive him so he wouldn’t have needed to wait in the cold, but she didn’t want to wake the poor man in the middle of the night.

This was something Harry could live with, so he nodded and waited until YN had peeled herself off his shoulder to stand up. The brunette stretched a hand out, palm facing up, and the blonde took it without hesitating a second, letting him pull her up, and the woman couldn’t stop her wandering eyes from resting on his strong biceps hidden by his sunflower-yellow hoodie. Calling herself out mentally, YN averted her gaze and slipped back into her sneakers, waiting next to the French doors, and wanted to open them, but Harry was quick to hold the door close. With a questioning expression, the princess looked up, raising both eyebrows, watching the man who stared her down.

“Coat?”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, it will not take hours.” And she tried to open the door again. But Harry was as persistent as she loved to be. “Coat. I won’t let you out without another layer.” Another eye roll followed, but the woman finally rounded him to grab her hanging coat. He turned as well to help her slip into the thick and soft fabric before Harry gave her a once over and suddenly grabbed right over her shoulder to retrieve a scarf. “Oh, are you bloody kiddi…-“ But he had already started to wrap the article around her neck; his concentrated expression made the princess chuckle into the fabric. “Satisfied?” She asked Harry as he seemed to be done, and the singer grinned down at her covered form, plucking the scarf to its perfect position. “Now? Yes,” he agreed and finally let her open the door while slipping into his coat himself.

They walked the stairs in comfortable silence, and as they slipped out the front door, YN shrieked at a sudden movement to her right. She clung to Harry’s side, fingers burrowed into the arm of his coat, eyes wide in shock as they stared at an already working Bernard. “Your Highness,” the driver chuckled while bowing swiftly. “Bernard!” YN pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart and inhaled the cold early morning air deep into her lungs. “I thought you’d still be at home.” The middle-aged man and Harry nodded to each other respectfully before he looked back at the princess. “Your brother and sister-in-law have appointments to attend, but there is still much time in case you need my service, princess.” YN quickly looked from Bernard to Harry—she let go of the poor man’s arm as it dawned on her that she still clung to it—before looking back to her favorite driver. “Actually…,” the blonde started. “Would it be possible to get him home safely? We forgot the time, and I do not want to dump him into a cab.”

The singer tried to protest because he didn’t mind taking a cab, but the driver was faster in his response. “Of course, Your Highness. Mr. Styles.” YN rolled her eyes with a smile and led Harry to the shining black SUV. “How does he know who I am?” He only dared to whisper the question. “He has two sixteen-year-old daughters, plus barely anything is secret within these walls. The bush radio never sleeps,” she whispered back, chuckling softly as they arrived at the back door.

Harry opened it while Bernard had already situated himself behind the wheel and started the engine, his eyes resting on the blonde’s face. She smiled up at him. “This was by far the best day in a very long time,” YN spoke first and let his face settle into her memory, saving everything she could put in a folder up there. But instead of saying something himself, Harry grabbed her hand softly and pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her middle. He could feel her arms encompassing his neck and how she leaned her hairline against his jawline after he had bent his head a bit. “I‘ll call later,” Harry murmured and dared to touch her temple with a feather-like kiss. “Get some sleep first,” YN mumbled back and pulled gently back. “Text me when you get home, okay?” The man grinned tenderly at the evident concern lacing her voice. “Will do.”

With that, he got into the car, and after one last look at her, Harry closed the door, and the vehicle ventured off the palace’ grounds, leaving a squealing YN with reddened cheeks behind.

;

This one got… long. Holymoly. But it’s here! I hope y’all enjoyed it as much as I did while writing it. As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated <3

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New art style..?