#(It's in australia though so we have a clue)

[sealsdaily]

Today's Sea Lion Is: Critical Hit

[finelinefae]

semi-finals [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n gets distracted and harry just wants the girl he likes to like him back

word count: 10.7k

contains: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, first kiss(es), jealous!h, jealous!yn, inaccurate height of certain characters who may actually be taller in real life but this is an au so it's fine, a crazy confession but not really bc we all saw it coming

this is part 3 of the game! read part 2 here

. . .

Y/N watched him from across the room, studying the way people walked up to him as though he was some kind of celebrity. He smiled and laughed but it didn’t reach his eyes, not in the way it did when they were together. 

But it wasn’t his charismatic smile and booming laugh that constantly grabbed her attention when she was trying to listen to Sarah’s story about the cat her parents had fostered back home. It was the blonde girl beside him, the one who hadn’t left his side for the entire night, who laughed along with him and stole glances whenever he wasn’t looking. 

Her opponent for the next tournament that was now a month away. 

Astrid Anderson had once been a student at Crestwood. They’d all been in the same infant class together and every boy in their year group was obsessed with her. Harry and Astrid hadn’t started dating until the year before Harry left for Australia. They were the ‘It’ couple of Crestwood, everyone treated them as though they were some kind of celebrity couple. 

All that lasted until Harry had to leave for Australia. He broke things off and then Astrid moved to Trinity Academy which was Crestwood’s biggest rival in most competitive areas. Y/N didn’t know or care what Astrid had gotten up to since she left school. There was no bitterness between them but they both knew they weren’t the type of people to share the same social circle. Whilst Astrid cared more about her social life, Y/N was completely focused on academics and there was nothing wrong with either of those things but it didn’t give them much to talk about. 

“Right Y/N?” Sarah asked, her head whipping around in her direction only to realise she had no idea what she was talking about. 

“Right,” Y/N nodded, having no clue as to what she was agreeing with. 

Adam held back a smile as he sat on the couch across from her, “Mitch, come get a drink with me,” Sarah stood up, tugging the hem of her skirt down, “I need you to push past all the tall people.”

Mitch, all five foot eight inches of him, rose from his place beside Jake on the couch with a self-satisfied stretch, as if flaunting his height as proof that his girlfriend needed him. "Coming, babe," he declared, a hint of smugness in his voice.  Everyone laughed as Mitch winked, following behind Sarah through the crowds of dancing bodies. 

Y/N glanced over at Harry who was now standing with his back to her, talking to Astrid with his hand propped up against the refrigerator. “If you’re not careful, you’ll burn holes into his back,” Adam spoke from beside her. 

“That’s the idea,” Y/N murmured. 

“Hm, I thought you didn’t like him?” Adam asked the question causing her to turn and face him. 

“I don’t,” She answers immediately but the words are like metal on her tongue, “I-I mean I-” 

Adam’s lips curve into a knowing smirk, “I see,”

Y/N wanted to protest but found herself unable to muster the words. Her mouth seemed to glue itself shut as she attempted to argue against Adam’s assumption that she liked Harry even a little bit. Her emotions had been all over the place ever since she asked Harry to coach her. He seemed to bring out a part of her she didn’t even know she had. One moment she was angry, the next she was laughing, and sometimes her heart would beat so hard against her chest that she felt like it was trying to leap out and walk right into the palm of his hand.

She couldn’t comprehend how the wires in her brain had seemingly rewired themselves, transitioning from loathing someone to now seeing visions of them before she drifted off to sleep. It both frightened and excited her, this inexplicable shift in her feelings consuming her thoughts and diverting her attention from the actual game - a game that had never required feelings before. 

“We both agreed on not seeing anyone if this was to work out,” She confessed.

“Did he make that rule or you?” Adam quirked a brow.

“It was a mutual agreement I guess,” Y/N shrugged. 

Adam nodded slowly, his eyes darting to and from Harry. “C’mere,” He motioned with his finger. Y/N leaned in at the same time as he did, until they were only inches a part from each other, “Laugh,” He says.

“What?” Y/N questioned. 

“Trust me, just laugh.” Adam glanced over her shoulder again before smiling. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment before complying, a hesitant laugh escaping her lips to which Adam joined in. The more he laughed, the more she laughed with him until he stopped, “Uh oh,” He smirked, leaning forward and grabbing his drink from the coffee table, “Looks like you started something now.” He motions his head behind her and Y/N turns to find Harry no longer with Astrid but striding towards them, anger radiating from him. 

“Adam, what did you do?” Y/N exclaimed, sitting on the edge of the couch as Harry approached them. 

His eyes were darkened, his jaw tense, “Y/N,” He said her name over the music, “Can I talk to you?” Each word was tense as he spoke them like he was trying to control himself. 

Maybe it was the bit of alcohol she’d had that was taking over her senses but she felt a sudden boost of confidence. Y/N folded her arms, “Ask me again,” She smirked. 

Harry scoffed, “Can I talk to you?”

Y/N’s expression was smug as she spoke the next word carefully, “Again,”

Harry’s jaw tightened, gritting his teeth he spoke again just as she asked, “Can I talk to you, please?”

Adam snorted beside her and Y/N’s lips curved, “Okay,” She stood up, ignoring the way her head spun, and stumbled as she followed him down the hallways of his apartment to a room near the back right by the bathroom that people were queuing up to use. He stood in front of an unopened door and pulled out a key from his back pocket to unlock it. 

Stepping inside, Y/N glanced around the room and noticed how different it was from the rest of the apartment. It had calming blue walls and a simple bed with white sheets. A big window let in soft light, making it cosy. There were personal things like photos and an old music player. There were posters on the wall and pictures of his friends on the corkboard by the desk. On one of the shelves in the corner, she saw the trophies she had previously seen in boxes now displayed on his shelf. 

She smiled but it quickly disappeared as she faced an angry-looking Harry. “What are you playing at?” 

“What do you mean?” Y/N crossed her arms.

Harry's eyes narrowed, his frustration evident as he took a step closer to Y/N. "Don't play dumb with me, Y/N," his voice tinged with a raw edge. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You and Adam? I thought we agreed not to date anybody?”

Y/N scoffed, “So did I until I saw you hanging around your ex-girlfriend who - might I add - is my opponent for the next game!”

Harry took a step forward and Y/N took one step back until she was backed up against his door. He placed one hand on the wall right by her head and hung his head to look down at her. Y/N’s breath hitched at how close he was, “Are you jealous?” He murmurs. 

“Jealous of who? You and your ex?” She emphasised the ‘ex’ like she was reminding him that Astrid was his ex-girlfriend. 

Harry's eyes flickered with a mixture of emotions, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. "You are, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice low and filled with a hint of amusement.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she felt the heat of Harry's body so close to hers. She swallowed hard, refusing to let herself be intimidated by his proximity. "I'm not jealous," she insisted, her voice tinged with defiance.

Harry's smirk widened, his hand still resting against the wall beside her head. "Really?" he challenged, his breath warm against her cheek as he leaned in closer. “You don’t think I didn’t see you and those pretty eyes staring holes into the back of my head?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, her frustration evident. "You're more arrogant than I thought," she muttered under her breath.

"Do you like him?" Harry's question caught her off guard.

"I've already told you I don't," she replied, a hint of annoyance colouring her tone.

"You know it kills me?" Harry's voice softened, his expression pained. Y/N's confusion was clear as she waited for him to continue. "It kills me to see you with him, to see you with anybody but me. Especially when you laugh like that, I only want you to laugh like that with me."

"Well, unfortunately for you, you don't tell me what to do," Y/N shot back, her heart pounding against her chest.

"I thought I was your coach?" Harry smirked, attempting to lighten the mood.

"You're my coach, not my keeper. If I want to talk to Adam or laugh around him, I will. In fact, I'm going to," she declared, spinning around and pulling the door open, the noise from the party flooding her ears.

As she walked back into the living room, Y/N spotted Adam with Mitch, Sarah, Jake, and some others playing beer pong at the dining table. Adam's smile faltered when he noticed Harry behind her. "Hey, everything okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Y/N nodded determination in her eyes. "Can I play?"

"Sure, it's my round so you can be on my team if you want," Adam offered with a smile.

Y/N grinned. "Who are we playing?"

Suddenly, the boy she had been locked in the room with stood at the opposite end of the table. "Mind if I join?" Harry's question hung in the air, his eyes fixed on Y/N.

Y/N tried not to react as Astrid approached him, placing a manicured hand on his shoulder. "I'll be on your team, H," she said with a smile, and Y/N's jaw tensed at the sight.

Harry smirked, glancing at Y/N, “Alright then,” 

“You sure about this?” Adam asked.

“Mhm,” Y/N nodded, “It’s just…How do we play?”

Adam laughed which caught Harry’s attention as he spoke to Astrid, “Just follow my lead, you’ll get the idea.”

As the game started, Y/N sensed Harry was intentionally trying to make her jealous when he laughed and spoke to Astrid far too enthusiastically. But she refused to let it bother her the way he wanted it to. She focused on the game with Adam, watching as he tossed the ping pong ball into one of the cups.

She noticed Harry scowl whenever they got remotely close to each other, high-fiving or giving each other a hug whenever one of them managed to get the ball into a cup. It gave her a sense of satisfaction whenever she’d see his eyes narrow as Adam placed a hand on her elbow to help her aim the ball in the right direction. 

Towards the end of the game, Y/N could feel herself slowly starting to fall under the effects of the alcohol. She had only ever drunk alcohol at functions or dinner parties with her parents and now she was countless drinks in. Her brain was turning fuzzy, there was no thought behind her words whenever she spoke and every time she aimed the ball, it would fly off the table somewhere across the room. 

As Y/N took her last turn, she was already very drunk and she knew she'd feel bad about it in the morning. Even with her friends cheering her on, she struggled to focus. She aimed carefully at the last cup, but the ball bounced off the table and landed in a plant pot nearby.

"Oops," Y/N slurred, her lips curving into a drunken giggle. "Looks like it's my turn to drink."

Before Adam could reach her, she took a step forward, catching her foot on the table edge and tumbling to the floor. Y/N laughed as she lay flat on her back looking up at the ceiling, “Are you okay, Y/N?” Sarah’s voice called. 

"Are you alright?" Adam asked, helping her stand back up again.

"Whoa," Y/N said, putting a hand to her head as it started to pound.

"Okay, I think that's enough for you," Adam chuckled.

"Are you okay?" Harry appeared in her view. "Hey, look at me." He gently lifted her chin with his finger.

"I'm fine," Y/N swayed. "I'm really, really great."

"Yeah?" Harry smiled. "Your knee's bleeding."

Y/N's brows furrowed. "It is?" She looked down.

"Mhm, c'mon, let's go clean it up." He took her hand.

"Oh, but the game!" Y/N looked over her shoulder to see everyone returning to their own groups.

"The game's over, love," he sighed when he realized she wasn't going to take another step on her own. He threw her over his shoulder and carried her down the hallway to his room.

"Hey, quit calling me that!" she slurred, banging her fists against his back.

The noise from the party softened as Harry closed the door behind him. Y/N found herself on Harry's bed, her body bouncing lightly as he carefully laid her down. She gazed up at the ceiling, her legs dangling over the edge of the mattress.

Harry stumbled into his bathroom and dampened a cloth under the cold water before walking back to her. Y/N propped herself up as he approached, observing him closely as he knelt between her legs.

He gently took her calf in his hand, “Are you drunk?” Y/N asked. 

Harry chuckled, his cheeks flushed. "Just a bit," he admitted, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "Maybe more than a bit."

Y/N giggled, “Me too,” She confessed.

“I know that,” He chuckled, his hair falling in front of his face, “You play a mean game of beer pong.”

“If it weren’t for you I probably wouldn’t be so competitive,” Y/N admitted.

"But it was fun, right?" Harry's smile softened. “You like spending time with me?”

Y/N relaxed, her shoulders dropping, “I think…” She starts, her mind whirring, “Okay shhhhh,” She puts her finger to his lips and his lips pout automatically against them, “Don’t tell anyone this but everyday I wake up and I look forward to spending time with you.”

Harry smirks, “You do?” 

“But don’t tell anybody,” She insists.

“Okay,” He nods, “I won’t tell anybody.”

“How do I know you won’t tell anybody?” Y/N frowns. 

“Hmm,” Harry thinks, “How about I tell you something?”

Y/N nods, “Okay.”

Harry’s eyes look into hers, “No amount of time in the day is ever enough for me. I want to spend every moment of my days with you, every second of time and even more than that.” 

“Woah,” Y/N’s eyes widen, her hand resting on his shoulder, “That’s a lot of time.”

“And it’s still not enough,” Harry whispers, his head leaning closer to hers. The cloth slipped from her thigh, Harry’s cold fingers wrapping themselves around her ankle that was right by his knee as he knelt on the floor. 

“Harry,” Y/N murmurs, “Do you still love her?”

Harry shakes his head immediately, “No,” He says, “For someone so brilliantly smart how do you still not know?” 

“I’m not smart when it comes to people,” She whispers, “Or you. I think that’s why you frustrate me so much.”

“You frustrate me for an entirely different reason,” His hand lifts to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She could feel his breath fanning her face, smelling the scent of alcohol. 

Her hands go to his shirt, scrunching the fabric into tight fists, “Tell me,” Her eyes flutter shut as his lips ghost over her cheek.

“Not today baby,” He says. 

“Y’ said it again,” Her lips curve, “You called me that in the car too.”

“You remember that?” 

“I remember everything,” 

As Harry parted his lips to reply, Y/N seized the moment, her hand darting to the back of his neck as she planted a quick peck on his lips. His eyes widened in surprise as she giggled, "Whoops."

Before she could fully retract her hand, Harry leaned in, closing the gap between them and pressing his lips to hers once more.

Y/N melted against him, feeling his lips merge with hers as he caught her bottom lip between his. Her eyes were closed and her senses were overwhelmed with the taste of alcohol and the scent of his aftershave. His lips were soft and everything about him was so warm. Every time she would try to catch her breath he would just steal the air right out of her as if she were his source of oxygen. 

They both pulled away. Y/N needed a moment before she could open her eyes again as she tried to regain her breath. When she did, green, hazy eyes looked into hers. Her lips curved before she spoke, “I haven’t kissed anyone like that before,” She admits.

"Really?" Harry asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

Y/N shook her head, her laughter bubbling up. "I mean, I kissed Jamie Keller once in the fourth year, but it wasn't a proper kiss."

Harry rolled his eyes, a hint of amusement in his expression. "Fucking Jamie Keller," he muttered.

Y/N laughed, unable to tear her eyes away from him. "Yeah," she murmured, "Fucking Jamie Keller."

Harry's fingers brushed against Y/N's cheek, “Do you think we’ll remember this in the morning?” He asked. 

Y/N couldn’t find an answer, instead, she brushed the curls in front of his eyes to the side and wondered just how much she had had to drink to end up in the one place she’d been trying to avoid. 

. . .

“Shit,” Y/N hissed, “This isn’t real.”

Her head was pounding like someone was hammering against her skull and her spine felt like she had been sleeping folded in half as she sat up straight in bed. She was in a room, a room she didn’t recognise and hoped it wasn’t just some random stranger’s. 

The last thing she remembered vividly was sitting on the couch with Adam and Harry standing somewhere across the room with Astrid, everything afterwards just seemed to blur all into nothing. 

It was her first time getting drunk and probably her last too from the awful state her body was in. She wanted nothing more than to shower and sleep in her own bed, eat foods high in sodium and drink gallons of water. 

Her heart leapt inside of her chest when she heard soft snores coming from somewhere in the room. She looked down and saw Harry curled up asleep on the floor, his arms wrapped around her ankle and holding it to his chest like a teddy bear.  

Y/N's heart swelled with a mixture of confusion and tenderness as she gazed down at Harry's sleeping form. She couldn't deny the warmth that spread through her at the sight of him, even if she couldn't quite understand how they had ended up in this situation.

Carefully extracting her ankle from his grasp, Y/N shifted to the edge of the bed, wincing as her head throbbed with each movement. She needed to get home. She had so much to do and prepare for now that her first game was over. She cursed herself as she tiptoed past Harry, not before grabbing a blanket to place over him as she walked to the door. 

Harry sighed, “You don’t remember do you?” 

Y/N frowned, wondering if he was talking in his sleep or actually asking her a question. She shrugged and pulled the door open, closing it softly behind her. 

Harry’s apartment was a mess. 

There were beer cans littered across the room and silly string on bits of furniture. She wondered whether or not she should stay to clear up but then remembered it was technically Mitch’s party which also made it his responsibility. 

She tried to spot someone who might have been able to offer her a lift home so she didn’t have to get the bus back to her dorm. Fortunately for her, Adam was lying on the couch asleep so she walked right over and gently shook him awake.

“Hey,” She whispered, “Sorry to wake you up,”

“Y/N?” Adam groaned, “I thought you went home,”

Y/N didn’t know why she was suddenly blushing but she replied, “Any chance you can give me a ride home?” She knew he had a car because he lived with his parents.

“I’ve been drinking,” He groans.

“Please?” She was desperate, “I know you only drank water for most of the night,”

He yawns, “Fine,” 

In the car ride back to her dorm, Y/N tried to recall the memories that had been missing from the previous night. She vaguely remembered playing beer pong and Harry playing alongside Astrid but the more she drank, the more her memory seemed to fade.

“You okay?” Adam asked, glancing over at her from the driver’s seat. 

“No, I can’t remember anything from last night,” Y/N groaned, running her hands over her face. 

Adam chuckles, “So you don’t remember falling over?”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she turned her head to look at him, “I fell?”

He nodded, “You tripped over the dining table when we were playing beer pong. Harry took you somewhere to fix up your knee,” 

Y/N looked down at her knee and frowned, “My knee?” She murmured, seeing the cut on her knee and the blood that had dried up around it. 

Seeing the cut on her knee must have triggered something in her brain because all of a sudden everything was beginning to piece together. 

Harry’s eyes look into hers, “No amount of time in the day is ever enough for me. I want to spend every moment of my days with you, every second of time and even more than that.” 

Harry's words echoed in her mind, sending a shiver down her spine. She could almost feel the warmth of his breath against her skin as he spoke those words and when he leaned and… 

“No fucking way,” Y/N blurted after everything came flooding back.

“Are you okay?” Adam looked at her concerned.

How could she possibly answer that? Was she okay? Clearly not, considering she had ended up in the bedroom of her longtime rival and kissed him.

She had kissed him.

And she had enjoyed it enough to want to kiss him again.

This wasn't good. It felt like she was breaking all the rules she had set for herself. Harry wasn't just any boy she went to school with; he was her coach, her rival, and someone she had known for years. He was the boy who used to tease her on the court, the one who always seemed to be one step ahead.

It must have been a drunken mistake. Y/N had no idea what she was like when she was drunk and clearly, she wasn’t the most sensible. It didn’t matter if things had suddenly changed between them, she couldn’t be with him, she wouldn’t allow herself to. Her focus was on winning that scholarship at the end of the school year where afterwards they’d be on two separate paths moving away from each other. 

Her feelings weren’t forever, tennis was. 

Thankfully, Adam had pulled into the front of her dorm building. She opened the door and leapt out of the car, “Thanks for the ride, Adam.” She tries to smile. 

“Hey Y/N,” Adam stops her, a look of concern on her face, “Are you okay?” He asks again and she realises she never answered him before.

She bit the inside of her cheek and gave him a tight-lipped smile, “I’m okay,” She lied and closed the door, spinning on her heel and walking to her dorm where she hoped she’d be alone so she could have time to work through her thoughts.

Even when she felt like she was winning, he always managed to one-up her, and this time was no different.

. . .

Y/N walked into school the Monday after the party at Harry’s house. 

When she returned back to her dorm, the first thing she did was shower and then spent the rest of the day wallowing in self pity and trying not to cry at the thought of kissing Harry. 

She had managed to go avoiding him the entire weekend and planned on doing the same today. He had sent her text messages asking her if she was okay but she’d ignored them, putting her notifications on silent like it was enough to trick her mind into believing nothing happened between them. 

Sarah had walked in on her hiding under her bed covers, watching episodes of Gilmore Girls and eating cold pizza. It was a sight she had never seen before which left her wondering if something had happened at the party but Y/N refused to tell. 

People congratulated Y/N in the hallways as she walked to her locker. She wasn’t used to getting attention from everybody. Most of the time, people didn’t really acknowledge her unless they needed help with their homework.

“Heyyy court queen,” Sarah beamed.

Y/N immediately shook her head, “Sarah, no,” she snorted, trying not to laugh.

“What?” Sarah frowned, “I’m trying to think up a catchy nickname so it catches on and people put it on merch and signs for your game.”

This time Y/N did laugh, “Are you trying to make money off of me?” She teased.

“No, of course not, I’m just being a supportive friend. You know my mother is designing a new clothing line? I can totally get her to design something for people to wear for your games.”

“Sarah,” Y/N put her hands on her friend’s shoulders, “I’ve won one game for a school competition. As much as I love you for it, I don’t need you to create merchandise or give me catchy nicknames.”

Sarah’s shoulders slumped, “I know, it’s just… You’re playing against Astrid Anderson. Not only is she popular at her new school, but she’s also still pretty popular here too. Jake told me he saw her volunteering at a homeless shelter, offering them invites to come to the semi-finals.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “We’re playing tennis. It’s not a beauty pageant. Whatever happens, won’t be up to how many people turn up or what everybody’s wearing.”

“But don’t you think she’s trying to do it to throw you off?” Sarah asked, “I’m pretty sure she still has feelings for Harry. Isn’t that weird?”

“Weird?” Y/N replied quickly, “Why would it be weird?”

Sarah looked at her suspiciously, “Because she’s Harry’s ex-girlfriend? And your opponent for the next game and did I forget to mention Harry ‘your coach’s’ ex-girlfriend?”

“What Harry does outside of our training is none of my business,” Y/N cleared her throat.

“Did something happen between you two? At the party, Mitch said he saw you two go off somewhere and now you’re being weird,” Sarah questioned.

“Nothing happened, Harry was just being his usual, annoying self,” Y/N hoped she was convincing enough to drop the subject, but Sarah continued to look at her like she knew there was something she wasn’t saying.

Thankfully, the bell for the first period was a perfect interruption. Y/N slammed her locker shut, “I’ll see you later?”

Sarah nodded, “Lunch, right?”

Y/N froze, remembering that Harry was a member of their usual lunch group, “Um, I-I have tutoring.”

“What?” Sarah furrowed her brows, “I thought you tutored on Wednesdays?”

“Change of schedule?” Y/N blurted out, grasping for an excuse.

Sarah’s eyes narrowed, “Something very weird is happening… Are you pregnant?”

“Okay, love you so much, bye,” Y/N rushed, giving Sarah a quick hug before walking quickly past her to avoid blurting out any more hideous lies.

As she turned the corner, she accidentally bumped into someone, her shoulder colliding with theirs. Y/N looked up, and her heart was in her mouth when she saw Harry looking down at her, something flashed in his eyes, his lips parting the same way hers did as she finally laid eyes on him after ignoring him all weekend. He was wearing his blazer for once, but his tie was loose around his neck.

“Y/N,” he breathed.

Y/N’s eyes softened, she wanted to speak to him, but then her cheeks flushed as she remembered the night in his bedroom. “I-I-” Her throat felt like she’d swallowed cotton wool as she tried to get her words out, “I can’t.” She shook her head, walking past him and ignoring him calling her name.

. . .

Y/N had hoped by ignoring the things that were bothering her, everything would fix itself on its own. It was a bad habit she hadn’t learned to kick and the situation with Harry was no different. 

They hadn’t spoken a word about their kiss since it happened, in fact, they barely spoke about anything at all. Y/N had hoped Harry would go back to their usual back-and-forth arguments and forget about everything but whenever she tried to say something that would push his buttons, he’d just ignore her or use one-worded replies. 

During tennis practice, he’d barely even look at her when she asked him a question and stopped arguing with her when she wanted to do things differently from the way he worked. She was even beginning to think her friends had figured out that something had gone down between them from the way Harry would completely shut down whenever she opened her mouth to speak during lunch break, 

As much as she hated herself for it, she missed him. Missed the way they would argue over everything but smile at each other because they both knew it wasn’t serious, missed the way he calmed her down whenever she would get too passionate about something and the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the room. 

She had tried to forget the kiss but she went to sleep dreaming about it. Every time he got anywhere near her, thoughts of his lips on hers flashed through her mind like a showreel. His low, drunken mumble when he spoke to her outplayed the music in her ears whenever she tried to listen to the playlist he had made for her. 

Worst of all, it was affecting her gameplay. Y/N was pretty sure she had never seen such terrible volleys or groundstrokes in her entire life. Every time she would try to aim the ball, she’d get distracted by Harry wiping sweat from his brow or watching her so intensely when she wasn’t looking like he was trying to set her on fire with his own eyes. 

The game was two weeks away and the dream of winning that scholarship was slowly slipping out of her grasp with every passing day. 

It was the end of the week and Y/N was sitting in her dorm room, eating cereal at her desk with her pyjama bottoms and her school shirt on. She was finishing up the last few questions of her math homework when Sarah walked in. 

“I need to show you something,” Sarah dropped her bag on the floor and pulled out a newspaper. 

“What’s wrong?” Y/N frowned, taking the rolled-up paper in her hands and unrolling it on her desk. Y/N’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open when she took in the image before her. 

It was a blown up picture of her and Harry on the front cover of the school newspaper. Harry had one arm around her waist and they were both looking into each other’s eyes, a smile on his face and a surprised look on hers. 

To everyone else, it looked like the front cover of a Nicholas Sparks novel and it probably didn’t help that the title was written in big bold letters with the words ‘The coach and his student’. 

“What the fuck!” Y/N stood up, gripping the newspaper in her hands she thought it might rip apart. 

“I know,” Sarah cringed, “I had no idea they were going to do that, Y/N, if I did I would never have gotten Luke that interview.”

“Sarah, ‘The coach and his student’? What is this? The title of a porno?” Y/N couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “How many people have seen this already?”

Sarah didn’t answer until Y/N gave her a stern look, “Everybody,”

Y/N groaned and threw the newspaper in the trash can beneath her desk before sliding on her trainers and storming down the hallways of her dorm. 

“Wait where are you going?” Sarah ran after her. Y/N ignored her as well as the people whispering about her as they held copies of the newspaper in their hands. She made a beeline for the car park, her gaze drawn to the familiar sight of his black Audi parked in its usual spot. There he was, leaning casually against it, engaged in conversation with Mitch, Adam, and Jake.

Mitch’s head turned when he saw her pacing towards them, Sarah still running behind her. Harry’s attention shifted to her. She saw the flash of amusement on his face before it fell flat again. 

“Have you seen this?” She held the newspaper up in front of him.

Harry’s eyes darted to the newspaper before landing on her face again, “Yes.” He said the usual one-worded reply he had been giving her all week. 

“And you approved of it?” She could feel the anger bubbling beneath the surface of her skin. 

“No,” He replied, “But it doesn’t bother me as much as it bothers you it seems.”

“Of course, it would bother me!” Y/N exclaimed, “If I’d have known they would make it look like we were a-”

Harry stilled, his jaw clenching, “If we were a what?”

Y/N paused before answering, “A couple.” He seemed to react in a way she couldn’t put her finger on, “I would have never done that stupid interview in the first place.”

Harry scoffed, “Why does it bother you so much to like me?” 

“It doesn’t bother me,” It did but she wouldn’t tell him that.

“You haven’t talked to me since Mitch’s party,” Harry started but she cut him off before he could say anything else.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” She stressed.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” 

“Harry you’re being ridiculous,”

“Says the girl who ran out here in her pyjama pants,” He quips.

Y/N looked down to realise she was, in fact, still in her pyjama bottoms. She glanced around at her friend’s who quickly looked away to act as though they weren’t all watching their argument like it was some kind of reality TV show moment. 

Harry’s shoulders dropped and he let out a sigh. He reached for her wrist and pulled her in closer. Y/N inhaled, it was the first time he had touched her since the party. “Look,” He murmured, keeping his voice low, “If I’d have known this was how you’d react I would have never have done it.”

Y/N looked surprised, “Really?” She couldn’t help but feel a sting at his words but she ignored it. 

He nods, “I went too far and I know things with you are different,”

“What do you mean?” But before Y/N could get a reply, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. 

She pulled it out and felt a pit form in her stomach when her mother’s name lit up the screen. She immediately answered it and walked to the back of Harry’s car to speak to her. “Mum?” Y/N answered. 

“Your father got an email this morning,” Her mother replied. No hello, no how are you or how’s school, just straight to the point. 

“He did?” Y/N already knew where this was going. 

“It was a copy of the school newspaper,” Her mother’s voice sounded as though she was trying to keep her anger at bay, “We opened it hoping to see our daughter somewhere on the scholar’s page but low and behold there you were right on the front cover - with a boy no less.” 

“Mum-”

“We want to see you,” Her mother snapped, interrupting her, “Your father has reserved us a table at Château Blanc two weeks today. It’s the only day off he could get so be grateful.” 

Two weeks from today was the day before the semi-finals. She needed to train but she couldn’t say no to her mother, “Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Good.” Her mother replied before hanging up the phone. 

Y/N slipped the phone back and sighed, “Are you okay?” Harry’s voice sounded. 

“My parents have seen the newspaper,” Y/N’s jaw clenched, “They want me to have dinner with them.”

“Do you need me to come with you?” Harry looked at her with genuine concern.

“No, what I need you to do is leave me alone.” Y/N had shut down. It was the way she always got whenever she spoke to her parents. 

“Y/N I didn’t know-” He reached for her hand as she walked past but she quickly pulled it away. 

“Leave me alone Harry,” She said, completely defeated. 

Y/N made her way back to her dorm and collapsed on her bed letting out a sigh of frustration. She looked up at the ceiling and wondered if she would ever find the off switch that would finally offer her a break from the life she was living. 

. . . 

Harry stood on one side of the tennis court, sending tennis balls flying with his racket toward Y/N, who stood on the opposite side, swiftly striking them back. She tried to ignore the intensity of his gaze, which seemed to linger on her every move as if he were observing more than just her technique. 

Every time she attempted to slice or backhand the ball, it would completely falter landing somewhere off the court. Whilst her body was on the court, her mind was elsewhere like it had been every day since her parents had called. 

She made an attempt to drop-shot the ball only to end up missing it completely. “Fuck!” Y/N cried out and hit her racket against the ground over and over again in a fit of rage and frustration. 

“Okay, slow down there, love,” Harry chuckled, “Y’ gonna break the racket and I’m pretty sure it’s school property.”

“It’s my own racket,” Y/N replied. 

The corner of his lips tilted upwards, “You still mad about that kiss?” 

Y/N glanced around them to see if anyone heard him. It’s not like it would change anything, everyone already thought they were dating after the school newspaper came out, “No, I’m not mad. In fact, I’ve already forgotten it ever happened, my brain has fully wiped it from my memory.”

Harry’s lips transformed into a smirk, “Oh really?” He took a step forward and she took one back, “Replaced with all those books…and…tennis,” His eyes dart down to her lips. 

“Tennis…” She whispers, her heart thudding in her chest. 

“So you don’t think about it at all?” He asks. 

“N-not at all,” She lies, terribly. 

“Okay,” He shrugs, wiping the smirk from his face, “Well clearly something’s bothering you because those hits were the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N gives him a look, “It’s my parents. I’m meeting them for dinner this Friday and I haven’t seen them since they dropped me off here at the beginning of the year.”

“Are they that upset with you over the paper?” Harry looked concerned. 

“I guess so. My dad even reserved a table at Château Blanc. It’s his favourite place to get mad at me and my mum. He can book a booth and then try to control his anger whilst eating steak and mashed potatoes - honestly, it’s his dream scenario.” Y/N laughs but Harry doesn’t see the humour. She sighs, “I’m worried it will throw me off of the game.”

This time, Harry does smile, “I don’t think anyone could do that.” 

“Everything is piling up and I just feel so mad and I don’t know where to put it,” She huffs. 

Harry's smile softened. "Here," he offered his racket, "Use mine. Can’t have you breaking yours when you have a semi-final to win."

Y/N hesitated, then accepted the racket, seeking confirmation from Harry. With his nod, she began to hit the racket against the floor repeatedly, releasing her frustration with each strike. 

"Ugh," she screeched, "I’m so pissed."

"Oh, yeah, let it out," Harry encouraged with a chuckle.

With each slam of the racket, Y/N vented her frustration. "I just wanna play tennis!"

“I just want to win my next stupid game!”

“I just want my parents to like me!”

Suddenly, Harry joined in, mirroring her actions. “I hate that I have this stupid injury!

“I think my dad’s disappointed in me!”

“I just want the girl I like to like me back!”

They continued hitting the rackets on the ground until they started to crack and split from the force. As the rackets began to splinter, they exchanged a glance, a mix of exhaustion and relief evident in their eyes. With a final forceful slam, they both dropped their broken rackets to the ground, the sound echoing in the quiet of the tennis court.

Y/N looks down at their broken rackets on the floor, her chest heaving up and down. Unable to help herself, she starts laughing feeling relieved to have finally gotten all her anger out. Harry watches and then starts laughing with her. 

“Feel better?” He asks. 

Y/N nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Yeah," she replied softly, meeting his gaze, “I do.”

. . .

Y/N’s parents sent a car to pick her up on the night of the dinner. She sat in the back of the car in a pair of tights and a navy blue dress with a pair of brogues laced up on her feet. Her hair was in loose curls fastened with a clip at the back. Whenever she was around her parents, she always had to dress smart. 

She glanced at her phone to make sure she wasn’t running late as they pulled in front of the restaurant. She tipped the driver before leaving even if her parents wouldn’t agree if they found out later. 

The dimly lit restaurant looked elegant, with fancy lights and dark wood furniture. There were long curtains on the windows and the tables had white cloths and polished silverware. Gentle jazz music played in the background as people chatted across tables.

Y/N spotted her parents in their usual booth at the back. She made her way towards them but immediately began to panic when she realised they weren’t alone. 

Sitting across from them was Harry’s mother, Anne, who Y/N had last encountered briefly before when she had visited his apartment for the first time. She looked regal in her fancy dress and matching pearl jewellery. 

Beside her sat a man wearing a finely tailored suit and tie who resembled an older version of Harry, with grey hair and a face lined with wrinkles, but he didn't seem a day over sixty. His eyes were a darker shade of green than Harry’s were and his demeanour wasn’t as friendly. 

“Y/N,” Anne was the first to acknowledge her presence, smiling as she walked over.

It caught the attention of her own parents, who turned and forced a smile as though to project a united front in front of Harry’s parents. “Hello,” Y/N bent over to kiss her mother and father on the cheek in greeting. 

“Y/N, you remember Anne and James from the country club?” Her mother, Theresa, spoke.

“Of course,” Y/N sat in the chair beside her mother.

“We invited them to eat with us considering this matter contains them both.” 

Y/N nodded, not knowing what to say in response. She knew the dinner with her parents would have something to do with her participation in the Academy Slam but she hadn’t been expecting to see Harry’s parents too. 

“Did you see Harry on his way in?” Anne asked, “He said he was on his way earlier.”

“Mind if I sit here?” His voice appeared out of nowhere and Y/N’s entire body reacted in a way she couldn’t control around him.

Her head lifted to look up at him and the air knocked out of her. Unlike his usual casual attire, he was wearing a black suit with golden buttons and a black tie. His hair was better styled than the usual unruly mess of curls. He smiled down at her, his eyes seemed to brighten beneath the dim lights at the sight of her. 

He winked and sat down in the chair beside her, “Sorry I’m late.”

His presence overwhelmed her senses, the faint scent of his cologne filling the air as he settled into his seat. Whatever this dinner was meant to be had completely changed for her; she suddenly felt less alone.

“Harry,” Y/N’s father, David, spoke, “Haven’t seen you since you left for Australia.”

“It’s certainly been a while,” Harry spoke, smiling forcefully. 

After ordering their food, David speaks, “I assume you know why we’re here,” He directs the statement towards Y/N who feels everyone’s eyes on her.

“The newspaper?” She says.

“The tennis,” Her father replies, saying the words with a hint of disappointment. “Y/N, you don’t seriously think you’re going to get anywhere with this tennis thing do you?” 

Y/N’s cheeks warm in embarrassment, “What?”

This time Theresa spoke, “We understand you enjoy it for fun but don’t you think you’re being greedy taking the opportunity of a scholarship away from girls who want to waste their lives on it?”

“Mum,” Y/N starts, “Tennis… tennis is everything to me. I-I’m not doing this because it’s some game to me. I’m doing this because I don’t have a choice.”

Y/N feels Harry’s knee bump hers beneath the table like he was silently praising her for sticking up for herself, “Don’t be ridiculous Y/N,” David says, “All you’ve ever talked about is going into medicine.”

“Because it was all you were willing to hear,” Y/N quickly responded.

A throat cleared from across the table and Harry’s father looked directly at him, “Don’t think this doesn’t apply to you.”

Harry frowns, “What are you talking about?”

“Coaching Harry? Seriously? After your injury? You know the doctor said you could worsen the damage if you continued and you disobeyed that for what? A silly game of girl’s tennis?” 

He scoffed, “Here we go,”

“Harry,” His mother warned. 

“You know we all agreed that if you were to go back to school you’d need to pick up on other subjects so you could actually go somewhere in life? Instead, we have to hear from your teachers how your grades have fallen only to find you on the front cover of the school newspaper with a girl who can’t hire her own coach and has to put you at risk?” 

Harry’s hands ball into fists beneath the table. Y/N didn’t know whether she felt more embarrassed or ashamed, all this felt like her fault and she didn’t know what to do. 

“I-I didn’t mean to put him at risk, Mr Styles,” Y/N stutters. She feels Harry place a hand on her knee. 

“Y/N, this will stop at once. I’m requesting the school pull you out of the competition.” Her father says and Y/N swears she feels her heart breaking.

“No please,” She was willing to get down on her hands and knees and beg, “Please Dad, this means everything to me.”

David raises a hand, “I won’t hear any of it. If it means you can focus on passing your exams and Harry no longer has to think about his injury then you can quit.” 

“N-no, I won’t let you take this away from me. I’ve been good, I study every day and I’m top of all my classes, why can’t you let me just have this one thing?” She didn’t care if she sounded childish or insane, this competition was all she had been working for. 

“Oh quit blubbering Y/N,” Her mother spoke, rolling her eyes, “You know I hate it when you do that.”

“Please, please,” Y/N doesn’t know what more she can do or say, they wouldn’t listen. 

Harry pushed his chair back, the sound catching everybody’s attention as the legs scraped against the floor, “I think Y/N and I will eat elsewhere,” Harry spoke, taking her hand beneath the table and flipping it over to intertwine their fingers. His thumb rubbed over the pulse point on her wrist in a way to calm her down. 

“What are you talking about?” James huffed. 

“Do any of you actually know how hard Y/N works?” Harry spits, “I doubt it because you’re all too busy counting the paper in your wallet to look up at your own fucking kids.” 

“Harry,” Anne gasps.

“No,” He glares at both his father and Y/N’s parents, “Y/N studies six hours a day, every day. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her take a break from it. When she’s not studying, she’s on the court blistering her hands just so she can get at least one perfect shot. She is the most brilliantly smart person I know and you may not care or fight for her but I will. I always will and right now I will not let you take away something she has worked so deeply hard for.” He stands from the table, still holding Y/N’s hand and everyone can see it as she refuses to let go. 

“Harry, sit down,” James orders but he ignores him.

“You’ve been disappointed in me since the moment I injured myself. I know you think I’m no good to you anymore, in fact, I’ve accepted it and I am glad for it because I have never been so happy and if you looked long enough you’d realise it.” Harry looks down at Y/N, his eyes filled with passion and anger and sincerity, “I am happy.” He says, “Because of what she has given me.” 

James scoffs, “And what is that?”

Harry’s head spins in the direction of his father, “Something you know nothing about.”

And with that, Harry tugs on Y/N’s hand to lead her out of the restaurant. 

Before they could fully walk away, Y/N felt her mother pulling her back, “If you walk out of this restaurant…”

“You’ll what? Never speak to me again? As if that’s anything new,” Y/N scoffs, “Nothing I do will ever be enough to either of you, will it?”

Y/N ignored the throbbing in her chest at her mother’s lack of reply, instead, she walked alongside Harry, holding his hand as they left the restaurant and reached his car.

Outside, the cool breeze felt nice on her warm skin. They shared a glance before Y/N started laughing so hard she started to cry. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she sobbed softly. Harry looked at her with a gentle expression, giving her space to let out her feelings and make sense of everything that had just happened.

“I don’t normally cry so can you look away?” Y/N sobs, unable to help herself as the tears fall from her eyes.

“No I don’t think I can do that,” Harry says, “You’re too pretty,”

Y/N huffs a laugh through her tears as she tries to wipe them away with the back of her hand, “I feel stupid,” She whispers to herself, her head falling forward. 

She sees Harry’s shoes on the ground and lifts her head up to look up at him towering above her. He smiles and pushes her hair out of her face, “Hi Y/N,” He murmurs.

“Hi Harry,” She whispers.

“Sorry for kidnapping you,” He says and Y/N chuckles.

“S okay,” She murmurs, her hands balling at her sides when he steps closer until his face is right in front of hers. 

“Can I admit something? You can pretend to be a little shocked if you want,” Harry asks. 

“Okay,”

“I’m crazy for you,” He admits, the words stealing her breath, “I’ve been crazy for you since third year since you followed me around the playground threatening to beat me up with a tennis racket if I didn’t show you how to use one.” 

Y/N’s lips parted, unsure of what to respond with so she let him talk, “And I’ve spent all these years pining for your attention even if it was just a scrap but I don’t think I can take it anymore. I like you Y/N, I like you so much I don’t know how to breathe until I’m around you. I thought tennis was what bought me happiness but I don’t think it ever has. The only reason I ever loved tennis as much as I do is because of you.” 

“Harry,” Y/N’s eyes glisten at the boy in front of her. The boy she had spent her whole life arguing with because no one had ever frustrated her as much as he had. 

“Do you hate me?” He asks, his eyes worried, “Because after that kiss I thought you did for a moment.”

Y/N shook her head, “No,” She murmured, “I don’t hate you.”

He let out a sigh of relief, “Okay, well that’s good.”

“No one has ever stuck up for me before,” Y/N says, “Or believed in me the way you do. I’ve always done it all on my own.” Harry’s expression softens, “I think all this time I thought I was hating you, I was actually afraid of you because you make these things happen in my brain that I couldn’t seem to ever figure out.”

“Have you got them figured out yet?” Harry cups her cheek in his hand, it’s warm and soft and everything she needs.

“Not everything, but I do know one thing,” Y/N stands on her toes, looping her arms around his neck and smiling harder than she’s ever smiled - ever. “I like you an awful lot, Harry,” 

Harry’s smile outshone the moon. It was the happiest she’d ever seen him and maybe the happiest she’d ever been too. A sense of relief seemed to feel the air, Y/N felt lighter like she was a tennis ball flying through the air right into the palm of his hand, “You mean that?” He murmured, lips ghosting her cupid's bow. 

“I do,” She says, “But if you make me say it again I’ll lie and say I don’t mean it,”

“Okay,” He whispers, his mouth grazing hers as he holds her face in his hands, “I won’t make you say it again.”

Instead, Harry surged forward with such urgency and kissed her upper lip between his. Y/N’s eyes flutter shut but the whole world becomes brighter when she does. She was consumed by him, all of her senses had just become Harry. His tongue darted and tangled with hers, his hands pulling her in impossibly close trying to mould them together. 

When Harry’s lips pulled away, Y/N’s eyes remained shut and she was immediately desperate to experience that feeling all over again. Harry chuckled and she opened her eyes, his lips were pinker from the lipstick she was wearing, his eyes hazy and she was pretty sure her own pupils were carved into hearts just from looking at him.

“Can we go back to my place?” He asks.

Y/N didn’t even need a moment to think about it, “M’kay,”

. . . 

Harry could barely contain his desire as they made their way to his apartment. With a forceful push, the door swung open, and he pressed Y/N against it, his lips hungrily exploring every inch of her face and trailing down her neck. Despite her attempts to remove his shirt, her hands kept gravitating back to his tousled curls, pulling him closer for more intense kisses.

As they tumbled onto the couch, Harry hovered over her, his gaze filled with desire. "Harry," Y/N's voice quivered with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, "I-I've never done this before," she confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"What? Never kissed anyone? That's hard to believe because you're really good at it," Harry teased, peppering kisses along her neck.

"No, I mean... I've never..." Y/N trailed off, the implication clear.

Understanding dawned in Harry's eyes. "Is that what we're doing?" he smirked, enjoying her flustered reaction.

His expression softened. "Would it make you feel better if I told you I haven't either?" he confessed.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "What? But what about Astrid? You were together for a year."

"Astrid's family is Catholic," Harry explained. "And if it ever came to that, I don't think I could go through with it."

"Why?" Y/N questioned, her curiosity piqued.

"Because," Harry shrugged, "I've only ever wanted you."

Y/N's heart fluttered at his words, a rush of emotions flooding her. "Don't act so surprised," Harry chuckled.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Y/N inquired, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because..." Harry paused, his gaze locking with hers, "I knew I needed to be careful with you.”

Y/N huffs, “I’m not fragile,” 

His smile is sweet and gentle when he replies, “Maybe not to everyone else,” His breath fans across her cheeks, “But you are to me.” 

Y/N melts into the couch when he kisses her again. She didn’t know kissing could be so magical but suddenly they were eight years old again where life was simpler and games were just for fun, books were read for enjoyment and Y/N’s emotions weren’t so difficult to navigate. 

It was strange having someone understand her the way Harry did. Her whole life she thought no one was paying attention to her, not even her own parents, but he had been admiring her from afar for most of their lives together. 

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry says, “I don’t want to rush this with you. I want to do it right,”

Y/N’s lips curve, “You could never do it wrong,” 

He holds her to him, their legs intertwined on the end of the couch. Y/N had always thought the court was where she was meant to be but maybe this was where she needed to be all along. After all, tennis would not be in her life if it weren’t for Harry. 

. . .

“Okay, you gotta go baby,” Harry slurs against her mouth as she continues to kiss him. 

“Wait,” She whines and he smiles, feeling delirious whilst their lips connect repeatedly. His hands reach are holding her thighs as they wrap around him, her hands in his hair pulling him closer. 

They hear Y/N’s name from the umpire once more and Harry has to find the strength to pull away. His lips ghost the skin of her cheek, “Y’ gonna go and win this?” 

“Mhm,” She sighs, releasing herself from his hold and grabbing her tennis bag.

“Hey,” Harry pulls her back into him and she makes a little ‘oof’ sound. He holds her face in his hands, “You think you’re so hard to read? Not with me,” 

Y/N huffs, “I’m nervous. What if I don’t win? She’s your ex-girlfriend and everybody’s made a big deal about this because they already think we’re dating.”

“We are though aren’t we?” Harry quirks a brow, “Dating?”

Y/N looks at him blankly before hitting him on the shoulder, “Obviously Harry!”

He chuckles, “Okay, okay,” His hands slide down her arms to thread his fingers with hers at their sides, he lifts them up so their hands are pressed against each other and leans in close, “Remember what I told you about your anger? And how it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and now that you’re my girlfriend I’m allowed to say that but honestly it’s the hottest thing ever and I almost die everytime I watch you play and I see you get all mad and-”

“Harry, focus,” Y/N snapped before she grinned and kissed him quickly, “But thank you, your ass looks pretty good on the court too.”

“Are you being for real?” Harry says, his mouth falling open, but he shakes his head to bring himself back to the main point at hand. He couldn’t pull her away for another make out session not when they were already late as it was, “But anyway, this game is no different to the others just because you’re playing against Astrid. Use everything you have and channel it against her.” 

Y/N nods, her eyes twinkling when she looks at him, “You’re a pretty good coach,” 

“You’re a pretty hot tennis player,” 

“Okay stop,” She pulls away and grabs her tennis bag.

“What?” He throws his hands in the air and laughs, “Now that I’m your boyfriend can I freely look at your ass under that skirt whilst you play?”

Y/N spun on her heel and glared at him, “That’s misogyny.”

“But I’m obsessed with you,” He argues.

She pauses for a moment and then nods, “Fine but don’t make it obvious,” 

. . .

Harry stood on the sidelines, his heart pounding as he watched Y/N prepare for Astrid's final serve. The tension in the air was palpable; it was match point, and the game had been intense.

Harry had always considered Y/N the greatest tennis player he had ever seen. Maybe he was biased because he’d also been hopelessly infatuated with her since they were in third year but nothing compared to seeing his girl play on the court. 

He couldn’t seem to breathe as Astrid threw the ball into the air and hit it so hard with her racket, the sound echoed across the court. 

Y/N ran to retaliate, backhanding it straight back to her. His eyes stayed fixed on the girl who he had confessed his feelings to just last night. 

Astrid had tried to throw Y/N off multiple times during the game. Waving to her fans in the crowd whenever they would take a moments break or trying to remind her that she was Harry’s ex-girlfriend. Harry had told her to ignore it but Y/N didn’t exactly need advice on how to hit back at her opponent, she’d do it all in the game. 

It was a long match of back and forth before Y/N finally decided to go all in, hitting the ball with so much power and precision it landed in the line and bounced straight off the court. 

Crestwood students erupted in cheers as Astrid threw her racket to the ground having lost the game. Harry could feel the rush of elation over his entire body, his fist pumping the air when the scores appeared on screen with Y/N winning the entire thing. 

Y/N didn’t need to go anywhere to celebrate because the one person she wanted was standing right in front of her. She dropped her racket to the floor and ran into his open arms, “That’s my girl,” He spun her around, “You did it, baby, I knew you could.” 

Y/N was beaming, leaning down to kiss him in front of the whole crowd of people. “We’re going to the final,” She squealed, hugging him tightly. 

“You and me,” Harry responded. 

. . .

taglist: @storyschanging @lilbredsticc @esposa-do-harry @st-ev-ie @itschelseacisneros @hermionelove

[laneywrld]

call out my name | Lewis Hamilton

request: heyy, can we get a story with call out my name by the weeknd as the base line of the story .

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none

When you first met Lewis, you had a feeling it'd end like this.

If you could go back and change that night, you would, with no hesitation. You missed the days when Lewis was a nonfactor in your life when you didn't know he existed.

You remember that night all too well. Miami was always alive when the Grand Prix came around, your friends, like the partygoers they were enjoyed taking the opportunity to take on the vibrant nightlife and enjoy the crowds the race brought in.

It was an annual tradition, you could say, to party like tomorrow didn't exist when the lights shut down and engines roared to life.

When you first moved to Miami, you hadn't understood the essence of the sport or the crowds it brought in, until you met an overly enthusiastic Daniel Ricciardo.

You had no clue who he was when he quite literally stumbled into your path; his boyish smile and golden retriever energy made it almost impossible to be mad at him as his drink soaked your dress.

"I'm so sorry!" He calls out, stumbling over himself.

"You're not from here?" You called out as you reached down to help him stand up straight. His thick accent was a dead giveaway.

"No, I'm Australian."

"Long way from home," you shouted over the music, dragging his frame into an open seat further away from the dance floor.

"I'm working." He slurs, smiling up at you.

"Mhmm, doesn't look like you're working," you trail off, "what's your name?"

"Danny. After work fun."

"Ahh," you hum, "okay, understandable. I'm going to get you some water, okay? Did you come here with friends?"

"No. Was actually planning on making some friends." He laughs, and it makes you chortle as well.

"Miami is not the place to make friends Danny." You informed. "Stay here, I'm going to grab that water."

You saunter away, keeping an eye on the lean man as you approach the bar. You order a water, paying for the overpriced bottle with your Apple wallet, and quickly return to the drunken man. You don't know why you helped him; it was just in your nature to assist anyone you could.

Danny smiles up at you with an appreciative smile as you uncap the bottle for him, "Can you hold it, or do I have to give it to you?" You inquire.

"Give it to me, please."

You both break out into childish snickers at his words. "Easy there, buddy," you warn, tilting his chin up and directing the bottle to his mouth.

You pull it away, tightening the cap and placing it in front of him on the table. You then slide into the booth beside, "I'd feel better with myself if I stay with you for a while, just to make sure you're okay."

He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, "Yeah, I get it; I'm so shitfaced right now."

It is quiet between the two of you for a while, you constantly reaching over to make sure he's hydrated and him smiling at you all dopey-like.

"You from here?" He asks as he starts to regain his sober mind.

You shake your head, "No, just moved here though."

"You can be my Miami friend." Danny grins.

"I'll probably never see you again after tonight, Mr Australia." You joke, nudging his shoulder with your own.

"I come here every year around this time." He announces. "Work."

"Work," you nod. "Right."

"Yes or no?" He prods.

"Have to see if you can hang; it doesn’t look like you can." You joke.

He scoffs, leaning away and eyeing you. "Please, I am a good time, the best time."

"Sir, I've just met you, and I'm taking care of your drunk ass." You cackle.

"How about this, stick with me for the rest of the night, and if we have a blast, every time I'm in Miami, you ride with me."

"You're going to get white girl wasted every time?" You inquire with a raised brow, and he laughs hard.

"Probably."

It was safe to say that Daniel was a blast. Even if he did party like a fratboy, you enjoyed his company. He gave you the energy of a teenage coming-of-age movie, doing whatever and saying whatever with his friends. It was a connection you hadn't experienced before.

And you enjoyed it, you liked spending time with your Australian friend. Which is how you ended up meeting Sir Lewis Hamilton six years later.

Lewis didn't know why he allowed his enthusiastic coworker to convince him to spend a night in Miami with him. The only solace he found in the situation was knowing that he wasn't the only driver there. Everyone was there, in a section booked by no one other than Daniel Ric himself.

It was nice for sure, and Lewis was curious as to how Daniel, of all people, knew so much about the lively city of Miami and their restless nightlife.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Lewis, just felt out of place a little bit, without his usual crew.

"Hey Guys, I'll be back in a second, I'm going to grab my friend."

Lewis rolls his eyes taking another sip from his glass.

He doesn't know who he was expecting, a Ken doll, a high-energy frat boy like Daniel, or even a valley girl with a high-pitched voice. This was Miami, so logically his smartest anticipation would be a surgery-riddled Kim Kardashian lookalike. But not you, Lewis would never expected you to enter the section, arm wrapped around Daniel's waist as you cackle at whatever nonsense leaves his mouth.

He is instantly intrigued, his phone being powered off and stuffed into his hoodie pocket.

You were beautiful with your rich complexion and beaming grin as he walked you down the line introducing you one by one.

His eyes never leave you as he watches you interact with everyone. You cloud his vision as you get closer. His eyes trace your hair and flow down to your brows and your alluring eyes. His view travels down your nose and lingers on your spread lips. And he physically lets out a sigh as he traces over your body.

You would drive him mad. He knows it.

-

As you take the time to introduce yourself to Danny's coworkers, you aren't surprised to see, well, to make it short, people who are not of your crowd.

But to your surprise, they're all friendly and welcoming. You're not surprised to see that you have met some of them before on your trips with Daniel or when you fly out to see him.

When you reach the end of the line you see him and your confidence falters as your eyes meet his. You should've known by the way his eyes were drinking you in that he'd be a problem.

With conviction, you approach him, bearing a sly smirk on your face.

"I'm y/n." You declared, and Lewis returned the same decency.

"I'm Lewis."

Your hands meet in the middle and he has a soft grip on you, refusing to let go.

"What's a girl like you doing with Daniel."

"He's my friend." You reply.

"Just a friend?"

"Just a friend." You confirm, and the way he looked at you through his fluffy lashes was evidence enough of what was to come between the two of you.

-

Lewis wasn't all that the media portrayed him to be. He wasn't overly confident or carefree. He actually worried a lot and was stressed a lot.

You knew that he felt like he had something to prove. You met him at his peak, and even now, when he feels like he's at the worst in his career, you're still here.

"So you're going to leave?" You hum, rubbing your fingers through his parts.

"Do you think I should?"

He looks so stressed out that is it has your heart is aching for him.

He's slumped like a kid in your lap with his face set in a frown. "I think that if you're unhappy and there are ways that you feel can change that, that you should look for something new, yes."

"Did you mean what you said last time?"

You think back to the last time you were in his presence, how he had gotten drunk for the first time in years. You wince internally as you recall how you had to nurse him back to health that night, how he cried like a baby when he mentioned how alone he felt at Mercedes. Lewis Hamilton wasn't used to being an afterthought.

"Yes, I don't think they appreciate you, Lewis. I don't think they are valuing your feedback or honoring your talent. I think they are making you miserable." You confess. "There are so many other teams that would love to have you, who would fight for you to reclaim your eighth. I don't think you should keep going through this with that team. Look at how they have you."

"Is your favorite team still Ferrari?" He opens his eyes and stares up at you.

"Duh,"

When you first met Daniel, you had only heard of the sport, but as time went on, he fully immersed you into the world of Formula One. You quickly took a liking to the red team and its intricate history in the sport. When you met Lewis in 2018, he was shocked that you knew so much about them (and barely anything about him).

"Don't tell me you're considering Ferrari, Sir Hamilton." You grin and he only smirks up at you.

"We'll see."

-

After the eventful first night you had spent with Lewis nearly six years ago, Miami has become a frequent destination of his. And New York of yours. The two of you guys had a chemistry unlike any other, every night filled with breathless pants and chants of each other's names. It was electric and erotic all at the same time.

You were fully aware that you and Lewis weren't necessarily together.

You were fun for him and him for you.

It was a mutual agreement, a bond strictly built from the amazing sex that the two of you had together.

You were aware that when the time came for Lewis to settle down and spend the rest of his life together it probably wouldn't be with you. You had believed you'd come to terms with the fact. But the idea of you two being together in the future still lingered in the back of your mind.

But as you scroll through Twitter, images and small clips of Lewis walking hand in hand with a Brazilian model have your heart tightening.

It wasn't like Lewis hadn't given you that false hope of a relationship, because you'd like to think that all of those little small things were him giving in. Surrendering that stupid ideology of his that made him believe he was a permanent bachelor.

You'd been by his side and in his bed over and over again for the last six years. And you’d be doing the same again tonight.

You almost feel grimy, sitting and waiting for him in his hotel room as he takes another woman out on a date, but a part of you knows that you’d accept anything from Lewis. You had standards and you had morals, but for a man like him, you always seem to throw them all out of the window.

Your phone vibrates and pings as your social media erupts in a frenzy.

That was another thing that had your mind in shambles right now.

How open he was when it came to you.

How quick he was to show you to the public, none of his other flings had gotten that opportunity, well until whoever this chick was.

Before you, Lewis hadn't introduced his "fun times" to his friends or even bothered to take any of them to the track.

That was something reserved only for you, though, you feel sort of naive, watching the tan and leggy woman prance around hand in hand with Lewis as he leaves the paddock.

You feel like you're stuck at the crossroads as you wait for Lewis to return.

He'd flown you out here partly because he claimed he missed you so much and the other half because of how much of a hard time you'd been having with your life in general.

Lewis was also a sort of saving grace for you, when you were with him, none of your other problems mattered. So you were quick to accept his invitation.

You'd never have accepted if you knew that he'd be playing a cruel game with you like this.

When the door creaks open and he emerges with a happy grin on his face, and bags filled to the brim with what you know are gifts for you, you can only grimace. Your attempt at a smile seems good enough for him as he approaches you and places a sudden kiss on your head.

"Hey love," He smiles, "I've got some gifts for you, yeah, knew you'd need a pick me up."

And you can't help to wonder if you'd needed the pick me up from his actions or what had transpired within this last week which was the sole purpose of you going to see him.

"I'm going to wash up, really fast, yeah? And then it'll be me and you tonight."

You say nothing as he places the bags at your feet and rushes into the bathroom.

You don't move, but you allow your eyes to skim through the bags and sigh as you see just how much he spent on you.

You had gone and done it.

Gone and made some glorified elaborate fairytale out of a man, who'd only treasured your body and in return showered you with gifts.

You laugh at yourself as your hand comes up to palm at your forehead.

You were his goddamn sugar baby, not the kind of woman he'd settle down with.

You feel even more stupid at the realization, that all of the nights you'd lay with him and console him after giving him your body were not as you had made them out to be.

It wasn't romantic, it was transactional. Those nights where you offered Lewis emotional solace always came with a hefty reward the next morning.

And now, you feel tainted, knowing that all it took was a simple call of your name for you to come flying to him and land in his bed, wrapped around his body.

You found Lewis in his prime and stuck by his side through his decline. You comforted him throughout his entire descent down the totem pole. Helped him out of that broken place, and gave him reassurance and something to look forward to.

You treasured this man.

Put him on top, time and time again, when he would leave you feeling used after your time together. And if it was up to you, you'd probably continue this cycle. Giving him your all and getting nothing in return.

You really wanted him, you wanted him to want you, which is why you were fine with keeping his bed warm, at least he wanted you in some kind of way, craved you even if it wasn't the way you wished to be desired.

When he emerges from the steamy bathroom, body clad only in a pair of briefs and his body soft and glowing, you swallow back all of your thoughts allowing yourself to take him in.

He nestles beside you on the bed, taking one of your hands in his, "everything okay?"

You can only push out a meek "yeah."

And the night goes on as planned.

The dim light of dusk spills through the blinds of the grand hotel room, casting long shadows that dance across the walls. You sit against the headboard, The melancholic melody of the empty night mirrors the turmoil in your heart.

Six years ago, you met Lewis at a nightclub, your paths crossing in a haze of neon lights and pulsing music. He was charming and mysterious, with eyes that held secrets and a smile that promised adventure. Your connection was instantaneous, a spark that quickly grew into an all-consuming flame. You spent endless nights talking, laughing, and dreaming about a future together. Well at least on your end.

But as the years passed, you began to notice the cracks in your seemingly perfect world. Lewis' past as a bachelor was a shadow that loomed over your situationship, a constant reminder of the freeness he carried within him. He would disappear for days on end with no communication, leaving you in a state of anxious uncertainty, your mind racing with thoughts of where he might be and who he might be with. Yet, you had no right to concern yourself with these sorts of things.

As you lay in bed, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you, you find the courage to ask, "Lewis, do you love me?" His silence is deafening, and the look in his eyes speaks of a love that is nonexistent, a love that is more of a need for you than a want.

"I care about you," he finally whispers, his voice tinged with regret. "But my heart belongs to someone else. I’m sorry."

Your world shatters at that moment, the pieces of your heart shattering like broken glass. You know you have to let him go, to find a way to heal from the pain of a love that was never truly yours.

You realize that you have been holding on to a love that was destined to fade, a love that has left you feeling empty and lost.

You deserve a love that is real and true.

He’s like medicine, he makes you feel good and at the same time, he’s like poison, running through your system and finding a new part of you to sicken. Lewis is a walking contradiction, you don’t know if he’s helping you or hurting you, if he loves you, or if he hates you. Surely, he hates you, why else would he be okay with making you feel like this?

And as the city lights flicker on, you vow to never lose yourself again.

You shouldn't ask, because you know you can't bear the weight of his answer but you do.

"The woman from earlier?"

He sighs, his response weak, "Yes."

"So no more us? Right?"

"I think this is the last time." He admits and you swallow back your tears.

"Okay."

"I still want to be your friend."

"We were never friends Lewis, and we're not going to be friends after this."

Lewis swallows, sitting up to catch your gaze through the darkness.

For years, you and Lewis had maintained a delicate balance, a friends-with-benefits arrangement that allowed you both to keep things uncomplicated. You cherished the intimacy, the shared moments of laughter, the comfort of his presence. But deep down, you always knew that this arrangement had an expiration date, an inevitable end that you tried not to think about.

And now, that end has arrived. Lewis has fallen in love with someone else. You can only turn away from him.

You stand up, the cool air of the room a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed. You begin to gather your clothes, each movement mechanical, your mind numb with the reality of it all. You glance around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings that now feel foreign and distant.

As you pull on your jacket, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are filled with unshed tears, your expression a mixture of sadness and resolve. You know that this is the moment you have to let go, to walk away from a love that was never truly yours.

You think it's kind of ironic.

How you'd been there for Lewis, and when you needed him most, he's leaving you behind.

"Do you love me?" Lewis' voice echoes from his place on the bed.

"No." You lie. "It was fun, was fun being a pit stop for you." You chuckle.

"It wasn't like that-"

"No, it's fine, we weren't anything, you fucked me and brought me gifts in return, I ate that up, that's all. I knew I was only here until you made up your mind, I'm happy you did."

You had a tendency to become a bitch when you were hurt and you knew that your words were low blows, but your pride was too hard for you to allow Lewis to see himself affect you in real time.

In reality, you'd hoped that if the unfortunate and impending doom would occur, that Lewis would have the decency to allow you to fall out of love with him first.

Then it wouldn't hurt.

You knew what the arrangement was, you knew that you and Lewis were technically nothing and you always thought that when the day came for him to finally leave you, you'd be fine. You'd feel nothing. But you do.

It feels like when that one character who doesn't care about dying has a sudden brush with death, how almost dying rids you of every sane thought you have, a person who fears nothing all of a sudden fears death, fears everything.

You always thought you'd feel nothing, but losing, could you even say losing Lewis? 

Being left by Lewis feels terrible, being left by him feels scary, like everything you knew before was not as it seems. 

You always thought you'd feel nothing, but you feel everything you thought you never would.

And in the end, you still wanted him to stay. You wanted him to choose you. Even if he didn't want you.

here you go babes @greedyjudge2 !! I'm sorry it took so long <3

part two in the future fs.

[newtonsheffield]

I have no clue if you have a law like this in Australia but here its illegal for a member of the government to receive a gift of anything over 25 dollars or its legally considered a bribe and I just think it would be hilarious watching Josie turn down romantic gestures in the office bc its illegal. Edwina calls it homophobia, state sanctioned violence she cant romance her wife (not even engaged yet) and Josie just has to keep reminding her she can do this literally anywhere thats not government property

We do have similar laws here.

Imagine the first time she goes to visit Josie at her office in parliament. She’s got the biggest bouquet of flowers she could carry. And she grows when Josie gives her a stilted smile and doesn’t take them.

“Ah, they’re pretty.”

“Okay so… take them.”

“I… can’t.”

Edwina looked around lowering her voice, “Is it… homophobia?”

Josie bit back a smile as she turned to her receptionist, “Pam is it homophobia for you?”

The middle aged woman looked up sighing sarcastically, “Not this time.”

Josie chuckled, “I can’t take that here because you’re technically one of my constituents and if I receive it here it’s a bribe.”

Edwina chuckled, “Sure it’s a bribe. I’m actively looking for sexual favours.” She tried again to give the flowers to her.

“Okay,” Josie sighed, “Now you’ve said it out loud. Babe, I’m not joking. If it cost more than 25 quid: I can’t take it.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“You can give it to me at my place later.”

Edwina glared at the picture of an elderly politician in the hallway as though the deadman could hear. “We’re lesbians.”

“Okay,” Josie clapped her hands, leaning in to kiss Edwina. “This was cute, you’re very sweet. Please go.”

Edwina turned to leave but paused, “Is there a photo of Margaret Thatcher around here I can shock on the way out?”

“Go!”

From that point forward Edwina makes it a point. Every time she arrives at Parliament she has a receipt pinned to whatever she’s brought. She makes sure the flowers cost exactly £24.99. It’s very specific.

“Weird way to brag about being cheap.” Kate’s tutted several times.

“I’m flirting with my wife!”

“Sorry, are you married?”

“I… will be one day!”

Even the very first time she brings tiny Jeremy Bagwell to visit josie at work. There’s a hand written receipt for £24.99 that reads cute baby

“I know this is a bit for you,” Josie sighed, “But please take that off him before someone accuses me of something ridiculous like buying a baby of the black market and my brother is forced to talk about donating sperm on TV.”

“I think Frankie would get a kick out of it.”

“He would, that’s the problem.”

[kestrel-bee]

I need somebody to hear me out on this:

I think Freenoodles is written intentionally to come across as vaguely romantic but not TOO romantic so that the Asian localizations would be able to air without legal issues.

And here’s why.

I begin my essay with a tiny throwaway line in S3 E12, where they’re discussing the whole past lives thing and Tang tries to refute the theory with:

Kind of a weird rebuttal that doesn’t really seem to fit with the rest of what Tang says in this scene. It’s also a strange thing to have him specify, especially with what “meeting the parents” often implies.

But obviously, this is far from solid proof. Tang meeting Pigsy’s parents is definitely not inherently romantic, so on it’s own this argument doesn’t stand.

But THEN we get to seasons 4 and 5.

Particularly, S4 E4.

Okay, implied established pet name, but also could just be Tang being weird and trying to annoy Pigsy. Nothing solid.

That is the most deliberate choice of words I have ever seen and you cannot convince me otherwise.

Because there were SO many different ways to write that, and NO OTHER CHARACTERS talk about each other like this.

This could’ve so easily been written as “I’ve devoted my life to studying this man’s cooking” or something to that effect and it would’ve fit into the scene just fine. Because if that’s what they meant, they would’ve written it that way.

But they DIDN’T mean that. Because they SAID, Tang devoted his life to this man.

How else am I supposed to read that especially when it’s followed up with this.

And not to mention the fact that Tang is like the only main characters to not have an established home, so I feel like it’s not a stretch at this point to say that MK, Pigsy and Tang all live together. It seems Tang had a hand in raising MK to some to degree, considering the baby picture in his wallet.

And so here’s my theory: they were written this way on purpose. Tang and Pigsy are meant to be considered partners to some degree, whether romantically or queer-platonically is left to interpretation. But with some of the context clues, I really do think it’s more romantic.

My running theory as to why I think they’re not just SAYING that they’re partners as opposed to dropping these tiny hints is because of the fact that Asian countries are this show’s target audience, despite the fact that it’s being made in Australia and North America.

I know that China at least has laws against media showing what they consider “abnormal relationships,” and I’d imagine the companies involved in the show’s production would have to be careful of making sure what they made wouldn’t have to undergo any censorship or last minute changes before they can air the episodes.

So, what I think could be happening is that a lot of the lines that have more overt implications are translated in the Asian dubs to be more platonic, or maybe translated to be just as subtle as it is in English.

I don’t have any good way to prove this though, considering I don’t speak Chinese, so take my conspiracy theory with a grain of salt lmao

Anyway, TLDR, I think Tang and Pigsy are canonically gay for each other. The End

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Mile High Club

A/n: Was reading Steven Adler's book and couldn't get this idea out of my head, don't ask where the connection was I couldn't tell you, but have this anyway :3 Also! If you enjoy reading what I post and want to request something please feel free to!

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, oral sex(f!reader receiving), daddy!kink, let me know if I missed anything :3

Being a flight attendant you were used to going on flights of all kinds, obviously, it was your job. Recently you were told that you’d be on a private flight with a big metal band, though you were never told which band, honestly you didn’t care all too much either. You were going to Sydney, Australia and getting paid to do so.

The day of the flight came and you couldn’t be happier, not because you were meeting some big band but because you’d always wanted to go to Sydney, and now you finally were. You got boarded with the rest of the crew though you still hadn’t met the band yet. Your coworkers were talking about them non-stop and it was starting to itch at you. You didn’t want to care who you were with, but you couldn’t help it at this point.

You were walking through the plane when a man with silver hair and sleeve tattoos called out to you. “Excuse me, sorry, can I get something to drink?” He asked in a polite tone. You stopped and stared at him for a second, thinking that this must be one of the members of the band.

“Uh, yeah, there’s a bar right over there.” You told him, gesturing to the bar just down the aisle. He nodded and looked back at you.

“Do they serve non-alcoholic beverages?” He asked with a slightly worried look.

“Um, I’m not sure.” Chewing your cheek, you continued. “I’ll go ask and try to find you something to drink, sir.”

“James.” He introduced, holding a hand out to shake yours. You hesitated before accepting the friendly gesture. “We’re gonna be on the flight for a while, might as well get to know each other, right?”

“Right.” You said with a nervous smile and walked away. He never called you back to ask for your name and you were too scared to go back until you got the drink.

After looking around for a bit you managed to come up with some fruity drink that had no alcohol in it. You were bringing it back to where you had seen James but he was gone, nowhere to be found. You went to a nearby attendant and asked if they knew his whereabouts. “Oh, he said he was going to his room.” They explained. You took a step towards the band's rooms in the back but they stopped you for a second. “Everyone’s talking about the two of you, you know.”

You were confused. “What do you mean? What’s there to talk about?”

“Well,” they started, “the band hand picks out each crew member they want, we were told that Mr. Hetfield chose you specifically.” You could feel your cheeks heating up, you had no idea why he would or what everyone was really  talking about, but now you at least had a clue.

You nodded and went on your way to the back of the plane where the band’s rooms were and found the door that had a paper taped to it with ‘James’ printed in big, bold letters. You knocked but there was no answer. “Mr. Het- er, James?” You heard strange sounds coming from the other side of the door but couldn’t quite figure out what it was. “James, I have your drink.” You called, knocking again.

“Fuck- just come in, sweetheart.” You couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the name. You kept your head down as you opened the door, quickly closing it behind you.

“I have a fruity drink, it has strawberry, banana, um...” You trailed off, trying to think of what else you saw on the juice carton. You turned around and froze at the sight. James leaning back on the bed, cock out in his hand. His head tilted back with his mouth opened in a soft ‘oh’. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything and just stood there, paralyzed.

James chuckled at you and patted the space next to him on the bed. “C’mere, I’ve been waiting for you.” Hesitantly, you made your way over to him, setting the drink on the bedside table and sitting on the edge of the bed. Your gaze glued to his hard member. James' free hand went to your face, stroking your cheek. “I thought you were just the cutest thing when we were picking out our crew, you know.” He said, voice soft and airy. You swallowed, still staring. “What’s your name, sweet girl?”

You took a deep breath before responding, finally tearing your eyes away and looking in his eyes. For a brief moment. Your eyes quickly flickered to his lips. “Um, Y/n, sir.” James let out a soft groan when you called him sir.

“Thought I told you you could call me James.” You didn’t say anything, biting your lip nervously. He leaned closer to you, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Maybe I’ll just have to fuck that into you.” He whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear. You sucked in a breath, cheeks going bright red. “Go lock the door, sweetheart.” You nodded as you stood and went over to the door, quickly locking it and turning around only to be met with James right in front of you. His cock was still out, it was bright red and pushing up against you as he smashed his lips against yours.

He backed you against the door, his kisses trailed up your jaw and down your neck while his hand explored your body. He tugged at your uniform, unzipping the pencil skirt and dropping it to your ankles. He didn’t even bother with your button-up, he ripped it open, sending buttons flying every which way. “Fuck, I-I don’t have any other shirts.” You said with a pout, looking down at your now exposed chest. James’ big hands went to cup your chest, admiring you.

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart, just be here with me.” He pecked your lips again before dropping to his knees. He placed a few kisses over your thighs as he helped you out of your shoes, paying special attention to your inner thighs. He could see how wet you were getting through your panties and brought his right hand up, caressing your thigh for a moment and dipping into your lace underwear. “So pretty, so needy, just for me, right?” He asked, looking right up at him. You bit your lip and nodded. James gave a displeased hum and shook his head. “Now that didn’t sound genuine.” He kissed you over the lace. “Guess I’ll just have to show you, no one will make you feel as good as I can.” Without warning he ripped your panties off, that plus the cool air hitting you making you yelp.

James placed his hands on either of your thighs, spreading your legs for him and pulling your folds apart. “What a pretty girl.” He mused, licking a strip over your slick, tongue dipping into your hole. You tried to hold back your noises as he ate you out, licking, slurping and sucking like his life depended on it. His tongue went as deep as it could in you and his nose kept bumping against your clit, adding extra stimulation. James began sucking on your clit as he pushed a finger into you, starting off with deep, slow thrusts to get you even wetter before adding another finger. “You’re so tight, gotta stretch you out a bit so you can take me, sweetheart.” You whined and nodded.

James curled his fingers in you, finding your sweet spot and making sure to hit it repeatedly. He continued swirling his tongue around your clit. By the way your whines were getting higher he could tell you were getting close. “That’s it, that’s a good girl, come on my fingers.” Your hands went to his head, holding it in place while you rode his face and fingers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck~! Gonna- ngh! Gonna-gonna cum, gonna cum!” You cried, thighs trembling around james’ head. “Fu-ck, cumming, cumming, fuck, daddy!” You cried as you came all over him, hips bucking against his face. James waited a moment for you to come down from your high before he pulled away and stood up, wrapping his arms around you.

“What was that you called me?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your lips. “Did you just call me daddy, sweetheart?” You tried to apologise or deny it, nothing but sputters came out of you. James laughed at you and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart, daddy’s gonna make you feel so good it’s the only thing you’ll be thinking about, alright?” He picked you up, you wrapped your legs around him, grinding against his throbbing member. “Fuck, if you keep doing that-” He cuts himself off with a deep groan. “Fuck it.” He muttered, taking his dick in his hand and lining it up with your entrance before shoving it in. Your head fell back as you moaned, the stretch a bit much but nothing unpleasant.

James waited a moment for you to get comfortable before he started moving. He thrust into you nice and slow, soon picking up pace and slamming his hips against your, fucking you against the door. You couldn’t contain your moans, crying out for him. “Fuck, daddy, feels so good.” You’d whine. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, your face was hiding in the crook of his neck, occasionally falling back when he hit a particularly good spot on your gummy walls. The silver headed man hooked his arms under your legs, pushing your knees to your chest so he could go deeper. “Fuck- fuck, daddy, ‘m close, please.” You whined.

“Please, what? C’mon, use your words for daddy.” James teased, grinding into you in a way that had his pelvis rubbing your clit.

“Please-please, can I cum? Please, let cum, daddy, feels so good, please.” You begged, planting soft kisses to his neck. James chuckled at your pleads.

“Go on then, cum for daddy, cum on daddy’s dick.” Just like that, you came on him, your juices dripping down your ass. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing him just right. “Fuck, so good for me, sweetheart.” His thrusts were getting sloppy and you knew he was getting close to his own high. You started bouncing on him as best you could, it wasn’t much but it was enough for him. “Holy fuck, sweetheart, gonna cum in you, alright? Gonna fill you up real nice.” A few more thrusts and you could feel his seed spurting into you, hitting your warm walls. He kept bucking his hips into you as he groaned, holding you close.

James carried you over to his bed, laying down next to you and pulling you close as he got the both of you under the blankets. “Was that good?” He asked, kissing your forehead sweetly. You nodded and nuzzled against him. James pulled you right up against him, letting you rest your head on his chest. “Good, good, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, pretty girl.”

[far-side-skies]

What country do you think each terra represents?

I started this at work the day I got this ask, and then the tumblr app said "fuck you" and deleted the draft. Thanks tumblr.

Anyway this was a fairly easy question to answer, I've had headcanons for this for a while :3

Terra Rex: Pretty obviously based on England, specifically the rich fancy parts like Edwardian-era London. There doesn't appear to be any royal family ruling the Terra, but since 'Rex' means 'king', I wouldn't be surprised if there was a king or queen hiding in the lore we never got to see. 'The Terra of Kings' should have a monarchy, right? Or maybe these fictional Brits did what us irl lot never could and tossed the royal family into the Wastelands.

Terra Atmos: I was never sure about this one, there were no context clues that implied it was based on any particular culture, old or new. Since I recall it was described as "the centre of the known atmos" by Piper in Home Movie Night, I headcanon it to have started off as a major international trade hub. As a result its people have a very random mix of cultural backgrounds. Many of them come from the families of traders or travelling workers.

Terra Mesa: Another one I'm not 100% certain of in terms of canon, but ever since @todayis-snowy drew Starling in a cowboy outfit I have been a firm believer in Mesa having a Wild West feel based on America in the 1800s. Proper Red Dead Redemption style terrain.

Terra Glockencheime: I think this has a German steampunk basis to it? Sadly the most we see of any irl influence seems to be the accents of the keepers of the time pulse, which struck me as German, so Terra Germany it is I guess.

Terra Gale: So far every Canadian in the Storm Hawks discord is adamant that Gale is based on the Quebec region of Canada, and I'm inclined to believe them. The frenchmen are actually french-canadian!

Terra Saharr: Deserts and their sky knights have australian accents. This is Terra Australia. I wish we'd seen more of it.

Terra Blizaris: Another, slightly more obvious Canada-based Terra, though I can't remember off the top of my head which region the Canadians in the server said it reminded them of. I think it was northwest Canada? Eh?

Terra Bogaton: Another one I'm not sure of. It's lizard culture. Probably based on some tribal cannibal stereotype if I'm being honest with myself, it was typical of the 2000s and it's not the only terra whose people are walking stereotypes.

Terra Vapos: Based on the architecture, Ancient Greece. Based on the fact that it's an ancient terra lost to myth? Vapos is probably the Atmos equivalent of Atlantis. Not a real country, but still based in irl mythos.

Terra Deep: I am doing a big leap in logic for this one, but this might be a reference to the Bermuda Triangle? With the ships going missing? I don't think that's what the writers were actually going for though.

Terra Amazonia: This Terra reminds me of the Amazon rainforest, particularly the regions in Peru.

Terra Nostrus: The same as Amazonia.

Terra Zartacla: Not a country, but the name is literally Alcatraz spelt backwards. A pretty obvious parallel.

Terra Xoam/The Forbidden City: This Terra has a lot of ancient mezoamerican influences in my opinion. Not much else to say since we never got to see any actual culture besides the buildings and traps.

Terra Neon: Vegas, baby!

Terra Wallop: Junko is seen wearing a kilt as part of traditional Wallop garb, so I'd say Wallop has a lot of Scottish influences.

Terra Cyclonia: With no real culture to speak of besides "capital of an Empire", I couldn't tell you which country this one might have canonically been based on. Me personally, I use a number of Greek influences for the history, clothing and mythology of the Terra, and base everything else off of in-universe lore I've come up with for it. With a bit of Russian for the language and alphabet, because ever since I discovered the delight that is Russian cursive, I have forever headcanon'd that Dark Ace's handwriting is just like that, and nobody but other Cyclonians can read it.

And that's all the Terras I can list off in my head. I know not all of them are based on actual countries, but some of them were so specific that I had to scale down from full countries.

[goldielia]

feels like summer (5+1)

a part of: untouchable au

five moments jack and cassy shared at/about the lake house + 1 goodbye

one

jack: okay question

jack: you know we have the lake house right?

cassy: yes?

jack: and you have your summer break in august

cassy: yep

jack: would you

jack: and please don’t feel like you have to

jack: but i would like it very much

jack: if you came to hang out for a couple of days?

cassy: oh

cassy: i wasn’t expecting that

cassy: well

jack: like i said, you don’t have to at all

jack: but i wanted to spend some time with you this summer

jack: and you know, lottie’s there and it’s really sunny and we can go out on the lake

jack: and then september comes and you’re all around the world and i’m wherever

jack: i really just didn’t want to regret not asking

cassy: i’ll see what i can do

cassy: i usually go to australia

cassy: but i can go in the winter, it’ll be summer there then

jack: oh i wouldn’t want to keep you from seeing your family

cassy: they’ve been wanting to come to more races anyway

cassy: i should make that happen in fall somewhere

cassy: autumn? whatever you call it

jack: fall, yeah. you’re around too many brits, lottie is the same

cassy: livin the dream apparently

cassy: i’m around too many americans as well

cassy: there’s not enough aussies in this world

jack: i think if more people had your accent i’d just die

cassy: flatterer

jack: on second thought

jack: all the boys are just gonna fall in love with you

jack: maybe don’t come to the lake house

cassy: too late

cassy: charlie knows and my family has been informed

cassy: one week or two?

cassy: i can’t do three, i think the introvert in me will die

jack: i’ll take all the time with you i can get

jack: so however long you want

cassy: two weeks it is

jack: seriously?

cassy: yep

cassy: do i do first + second week of august or second + third?

cassy: also i will need an approximate list of who’s there

cassy: some stalking and consulting charlie will be done

jack: well the umich boys leave after the first week

jack: you wanna meet them you should come first and second

jack: i’d also understand if you didn’t though

cassy: who’s there after?

jack: honestly no clue

jack: probably gonna be just my family for a while

jack: parents will come by last week of august i think

jack: so you could do the full dose of hughes siblings if you’d like

cassy: i think i wanna do first and second but idk for sure yet

cassy: cool if i get back to you on that?

cassy: i wanna go to greece for the remaining week so i’ll get that set up first to decide

jack: for sure

jack: you can also still only do one week

jack: ’m kinda greedy when it comes to spending time with you

cassy: ur cute

cassy: i think i wanna do two if everything works out

cassy: i’m really excited for break now tho

jack: me too

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 

two

jack had been buzzing with the excitement of getting to see his twin sister and his, well, flirt (?) (whatever) all week. he was closer to vibrating now. quinn had been exasperated by him for hours, spending most of their drive to the airport either shaking his head or rolling his eyes at his little brother‘s antics.

the two of them had taken charlotte‘s white convertible to the airport and had settled in adjoining chairs in the arrivals hall. jack‘s leg had been bouncing non-stop, his lip almost chewed bloody. being away from his twin sister always took a toll on jack but now that they were waiting on someone else, someone clearly important to him, too, his anxiety had seemed to increase tenfold.

jack‘s leg had slowed a bit by the time quinn had extended an arm around the back of jack‘s chair, just touching his shoulder, and then jack had been distracted immediately when a string of people started entering from the baggage claims.

quinn had expected jack to implode before charlotte and cassy even entered with how keyed up he‘d gotten himself, but instead he‘d calmed down significantly when the blonde and red-head stepped through the doors side by side, pulling their luggage behind themselves.

all his nervous energy seemed to have channelled into the smile on his face, because jack was beaming brightly by the time they had caught the girls‘ attention. quinn let jack hug charlotte first, as always, but stepped in to take jack‘s place and hold his sister close as soon as jack had moved on to cassy.

when charlotte had let go of him and they‘d turned around to jack and cassy, all that was visible of him through fiery curls were happy, smile-crinkled eyes.

his cheeks had flushed when he met his siblings‘ eyes afterwards, but he‘d slipped his fingers into cassy‘s and taken her suitcase to the car anyways.

charlotte and jack had insisted on sharing the backseat of charlotte’s car on the drive back to the lake house and cassy didn‘t mind the extra legroom that came with the passenger seat (or keeping her hand tangled with jack‘s while the twins slept curled towards each other).

cassy had intended to keep up a soft string of small talk for the drive back, quiet enough to not wake jack or charlotte and just stimulating enough to keep quinn awake while driving and maybe get to know him a bit but once they‘d gotten started their conversation had just kept flowing anyway.

the two of them had unloaded the car before waking up both peacefully napping twins and tackling the question of where would cassy sleep (probably next to jack sooner or later anyway but for now they‘d set up for her to share charlotte‘s room).

jack had made sure she was settled in, though, had asked her about ten times if she really was comfortable and if she’d find his room if anything were to happen during the night before he‘d reluctantly retreated back to his room to go to bed himself.

cassy: you forgot your sweatshirt here

cassy: so i'm sleeping in it

jack: i did that on purpose

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 

three

waking up in jack‘s arms had been new, but definitely the good kind. miles of tan skin stretching over a summer bulk turned out to be cassy‘s favourite pillow and waking up slowly but surely to fingers tracing gentle patterns over her shoulder beat any other way to start the morning, easily.

the night before had been spent watching all harry potter movies in order with minimal breaks in between and cassy had fallen asleep somewhere between the end of order of the phoenix and the start of half blood prince, snuggled up neatly between charlotte and jack with half the umich hockey team strewn around them on couches and air mattresses.

cassy had been pleasantly tipsy by the time they‘d gotten through the first few movies, quinn had not only put in an order for pizza at the hughes‘ favourite italian place that did turn out to be heavenly, but also added a few bottles of red wine to it. that, and the heat of charlotte spooning up behind her and jack‘s shoulder under her head had lead her straight towards sleep.

she remembered being woken up by jack‘s gentle voice, slowly coming to in between quiet shuffling of people either cleaning up the remnants of their snacks and drinks or just waking up and blearily making their way to bed. charlotte had already gotten up from behind her and jack had wrapped his arm around her instead.

she‘d sat up slightly, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stretched, before settling right back into jacks‘s warmth and dozing for a bit more. she‘d listened to the rest of cleanups tucked under jack’s chin and smiled into his neck when charlotte‘s voice had softly asked „you got her, jacky?“ and he‘d mumbled his agreement into the top of cassy‘s head.

she remembered fragments of being carried up the stairs and being asked where she wanted to sleep, her face heating up when she realized she‘d told jack she‘d like sleeping in his bed. he‘d set her down in his unmade sheets and left her to snuggle into them, surround herself with his scent and through tired eyes watch him undress and ready himself for bed.

she wasn‘t sure if she really did remember him getting into bed or if she‘d already been asleep by then, but soft kisses to her temple disturbed her train of thought anyways. „good morning“ she‘d mumbled into his chest, snuggling a little closer, smiling when he pressed another kiss to her temple and whispered his own good morning into that same spot.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 

four

eyes closed and face turned towards the sun, cassy breathed in clean lake air and listened to the hum of conversation happening on the boat. she felt the gentle rumble of the engine beneath where she was leaning back onto her hands, legs stretched out and ankles crossed in front of her. luke and quinn‘s quiet murmur about when to go to the grocery store crossing over charlotte and jack‘s gossip about someone they‘d seen on their morning coffee run before going out on the lake.

„grapes, please, quinn“ she‘d directed towards the grocery list discussion. „and tortillas, we could take wraps or burritos out tomorrow.“ she‘d opened one eye to look to her left, finding quinn pointing a finger at her in agreement. „we should do that. hey, we could do grilled chicken and, like, a salsa or something. i‘ll add that to the list.“ cassy smiled at him in thanks, turned over to lay on her stomach and open her book back up to her bookmark.

charlotte settled in next to her not long after, bringing the box of watermelon pieces they‘d cut up to snack on and her own book. they‘d been trading books back and forth whenever they‘d see each other and held little book club meetings over face time whenever they found the time. they‘d fallen into easy conversation about both the books they were currently reading and quickly drifted towards extending their reading list and googling release dates for their favourite author‘s newest books.

they‘d let their conversation flow a little and then chose to lay back down on the blanket they‘d spread out on the front of the in boat, only mumbling quietly about whatever came to mind. jack joined them a bit later, pulling himself out of the lake and dropping his cold, wet body right on to cassy‘s sun warm back, startling her out of the light nap she‘d fallen into.

she‘d shivered a bit before slightly turning to one side and peeking at jack over her shoulder, laying her head back down lazily when he pressed a wet kiss to her cheek and grinned at her brightly. she‘d let him press tiny kisses to any patch of skin he could reach for a few minutes, then elbowed him lightly „you should put more sunscreen on, jacky“.

jack rolled his eyes at her but before she could launch into her daily-spf-reduces-wrinkles-and-the-risk-of-cancer-rant he‘d motioned for luke to throw him the sunscreen and sat himself down next to cassy to start reapplying.

„can you get my back, darling?“, he looked up at her through his lashes, never stopping rubbing the sunscreen into his skin. „only if you get mine after“ she answered, sighing once before sitting up and motioning for jack to turn around.

she smiled at the way he leaned back into her immediately, nuzzling his face into her neck and pulling her arms around himself for a second. she‘d pressed her lips to his shoulder briefly before she pushed him to sit up straighter so she could actually spread the sunscreen on his back.

cassy hummed when jack shivered at the cool lotion on his warmed skin, pushed into where he‘d reached his hands back for her before taking her time and lathering his back in sunscreen generously.

a softly smiling charlotte batted a hand at luke when he rolled his eyes at the way jack giggled when cassy painted little hearts and c‘s on his back before working the lotion into his skin properly.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 

five

jack‘s eyes had been fixed on cassy from about five minutes after she‘d entered their little gym. she and charlotte had convinced all three brothers to join them on a little pilates session and they‘d shown up in matching workout sets, chatting idly and setting up a few mats in the corner.

charlotte had taken over the music, shuffling her and cassy‘s shared playlist (a fun mix of boyband throwbacks and current pop hits) before both girls had started stretching. jack had just taken a drink, they‘d been shooting pucks at their little set up for about an hour before and were now indulging the girls‘ pilates idea, and immediately choked on his next sip when cassy sank into an easy split next to where charlotte was dropped into a deep lunge.

he continued watching her lean forwards and back while still staying in her splits, then turn without getting up to get her other side as well. he choked again when luke walked through his line of sight and he‘d realized he‘d been staring for way too long.

he‘d struggled taking his eyes off of cassy through their entire workout, gaze unconsciously following her every move through the rest of their warm up, the pilates flow itself and even after their workout was over and they were sweatily sprawled over their mats, passing water bottles and gatorade back and forth between them.

luke had left first, wanting to shower before anybody stole the hot water, while quinn sat himself down on their bike for a bit more cardio and charlotte soon took off for a cooling swim in the lake before taking her own shower. cassy had chugged the rest of her fruit punch gatorade before getting up and reaching for jack‘s hand to pull him up as well.

he‘d used that exact gesture to pull cassy close to him as soon as he was standing, press their sweaty bodies together and stumble both of them out of the gym clumsily. „didn‘t know you were that flexible“, he‘d mumbled into the sliver of space between them, let his hands roam her body where he‘d leaned her back against the hallway wall.

she‘d smiled at him amusedly, murmured back „yeah, that do it for you?“, then raised an eyebrow and laughed when a strangled sound escaped jack and he pulled her with him towards the bedrooms.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 

five + one

cassy doesn‘t know for how long she‘s just been laying awake in jack’s arms, but when the first signs of dawn start peeking through jack‘s window, she carefully peels herself out of his arms and trails downstairs on her bare feet. it‘s warm enough for her to sneak out into the backyard only wearing the soft pair of shorts and the worn, oversized shirt she‘d stolen from jack‘s dresser.

she stops briefly in the kitchen, locking eyes with quinn over the coffee machine and silently nodding at him in thanks when he turns back to it wordlessly and starts preparing a second cup.

while quinn takes his latte to go onto his daily trek to the little outdoor gym he likes to start his mornings at, cassy instead steps out onto the creaking back porch on the balls of her feet, trying to keep the wood as quiet as possible on her way to the dock, cappuccino in hand.

she shuffles around a little until she finds a comfortable position, lets her feet skim the surface of the quiet, peaceful lake and watches the sun rise over the water, bit by bit. when it‘s nearly up the dock creaks slightly behind her, and only moments later a body flops down onto the wood next to her ungracefully, draping an arm and a comforter over her shoulders in the progress.

cassy drops her head to jack‘s shoulder and takes another sip of her coffee, then lets jack take the mug out of her hands and drink the rest himself. his hand slowly migrates from her shoulder to her hair, twisting and twirling the strands between his fingers.

jack‘s voice sounds rough, from sleep still, when the first words cut through the silence over the lake. „when are you leaving today?“ cassy‘s shrug jostles him with how close they‘re sitting. „i think charlie wants to leave after lunch.“

jack‘s arm falls from her shoulder to her waist as she curls closer into him and pulls the comforter tighter around the both of them, cocooning them into their own little world.

[lucy90712]

First kiss- Carlos Alcaraz

"Do you use tongue on a first kiss?" Asks the interviewer 

Most people would fully expect Carlos to say no including me but no his inability to lie kicked in again. He simply nodded his head and smiled while his cheeks went a bit pink but I think mine were worse I imagine I looked like a tomato. 

Carlos brought me to this interview as I had just made it out to Australia after missing the first few matches due to work and he wanted to spend time with me. I was expecting a normal interview with a few basic questions as I've been with him to plenty of interviews like that but this one was a little different from the start as it felt more like a little game show or quiz show thing. It was nice to have something a little different and I was enjoying it until that question and answer came up. All of the crew shot me a glance as when we arrived Carlos introduced me as his girlfriend now I'm really wishing he didn't. I know exactly what they were all thinking they were wondering if Carlos did that when we had our first kiss and that's what everyone is going to wonder when this interview comes out. 

The story of our first date and first kiss was bound to come out one day but I was hoping that would be further down the road and that people would think it's a cute story but now this interview will be in the back of everyone's mind. It is a cute story though. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Most people never get to experience going on a first date with someone even remotely famous let alone a famous tennis player who is very much well known across the country and the world. Somehow I've found myself in that exact situation who knew looking like an idiot on a tennis court could end with a date with a professional player who somehow found your awful attempt at tennis endearing. 

I feel like I should be nervous but for some reason I'm not. I just don't have any expectations I never thought I'd be in this situation so if  things don't go well then my life hasn't really changed I've just been on another bad first date. It's only if things go well that things will change which is definitely a problem for future me which is why I'm not really that bothered right now. As much as I'm not nervous I do want to make a good impression as Carlos was really nice and he's incredibly attractive. In my mind to make a good impression and not just seem like any random girl I had to make sure I dressed up and made myself look nice. I did some stalking before today so I know that Carlos could probably have any girl he wanted definitely someone prettier than me so I want to look my best and hope my personality makes up for the rest. 

Carlos said he would pick me up from my apartment at 8 and exactly as the clock turned 8 I got a text and the buzzer to my apartment went off. I made my way downstairs at lightning speed not wanting to keep him waiting too long which was exhausting but as soon as I saw Carlos' face and his bright smile running down 5 flights of stairs felt worth it. He greeted me with a hug and we made our way out to his car where he opened the passenger side door for me before getting in himself. When we planned this date he simply asked me my favourite type of food and if I have any allergies and that was it so I assume we are going to a restaurant but other than that I don't have a clue what we are doing. He drove us out of the busy city centre and into a smaller more rural town which I had never been to before. We drove for a few more minutes before he pulled into a parking space outside this small, quaint looking restaurant. It wasn't somewhere that I'd have ever found myself but I'm excited to try it out. 

Being a wonderful gentleman Carlos opened my door for me and offered his hand to help me get out which I didn't need but I wasn't going to miss out on the chance to hold his hand. He kept hold of my hand as we walked into the restaurant and were shown to our table, he only let go to pull out my chair for me and take my jacket. He was being so lovely which I'm not going to say I didn't expect as I'm sure his parents raised him right but you never know how someone with such a big following is going to act I mean I've had a run in with a footballer who was the rudest person I've ever met. Carlos is different though he's been nothing but kind since we met and clearly he hasn't let his success get to his head. 

We both ordered our food and got to talking properly for the first time since our brief interaction when we met. I really thought we'd have nothing in common as our lives are nothing alike but we actually had so many common interests and our lives growing up weren't as dissimilar as I thought they would be. We ate our food which was so delicious but we both just wanted to keep talking. I've never wanted a first date to keep going as much as I do with this one I think I've finally found my person and when I least expect to as well. 

After dinner Carlos drove me home and this time he came up to my apartment with me as he wanted to make sure I got in safely. While he was there I gave him a quick tour of my apartment before the time came that we had to say goodbye to each other. As we were saying goodbye there so much built up tension we were both looking into each others eyes and then at one another's lips. Carlos took the initiative and leant in finally attaching our lips, the kiss was amazing feeling his lips against mine everything felt right in the world. He took me by surprise when he added his tongue to the kiss I wasn't complaining but I didn't expect him to be so forward on the first date or with our first kiss. When he pulled away he pecked my lips before saying goodbye with a smirk on his face and me with the biggest smile on mine. 

~~~~~~~~~~

I was so distracted reliving my first date with Carlos that I had zoned out of the rest of the interview. I only came back into reality when I felt a kiss be pressed to my cheek by none other than the guy I was thinking about who has made the best boyfriend. He smiled at me and helped me up from the chair I was sat on before giving me a proper kiss which also garnered a look from everyone else in the room which made me blush.

“Are you ok?” Carlos asked 

“I’m fine just next time you do an interview maybe don’t tell everyone that you use tongue on the first kiss or at least not when I’m in the room it attracts attention” I said 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to embarrass you” he apologised sincerely 

“Its ok I’ll forget about it in a few hours but don’t you dare go telling anyone about the first time we had sex or I will kill you” I smile walking off to the car ready to go back to the hotel

[koshka-sova]

on minor parsing of the reverse 1999 timeline: where do events fall?

disclaimer: this post is not meant to provide a decoded in-game timeline. its purpose is to sow discussion about how to make sense of it.

minor spoilers up to 1.9 vereinsamt, and mention of versions 2.0-2.2

months ago when 1.4 prisoner in the cave (Ch5) was released in CN, a user posted her findings of the game's timeline based on the IDM in 37's lab and greta's account in the star. you can find the post here. the scope of her findings was limited to the main story and makes sense. although the theorised timeline only goes up to Ch5, we can easily extend the timeline to include the story up until the storm in Ch7, since the progression from prisoner in the cave -> vereinsamt is linear.

QUERY: where have previous non-main events fallen into this timeline?

the official re1999 account posted earlier today some images of a laplace forum board, and two things stuck out to me:

these two comments. one of them is likely windsong, based on the ID end letter 'W' and her ley line device. the other is (likely) mesmer jr's account, and here she mentions 'researcher ezra.' before talking about windsong, lets clear things up a bit with ezra.

in uluru games, vertin already has a sizeable team, such as bringing regulus, darley, la source, and click when the uluru crew first set foot in the stadium. having regulus around means the event definitely happened after Ch0-4 i.e., regulus recruited, team timekeeper is established. but did it happen between Ch4 and Ch5? not necessarily. although we know the storm has a physical radius, nothing is proven yet on which storms had affected australia. besides, ezra seems to have already been an established member of laplace by the time of the event. so, when uluru games happened is still up for discussion.

with windsong, however, one thing is certain: farewell rayashki happened before the main story. a few points infer to this:

all of farewell rayashki (1.8) happened, and THEN windsong was recruited by lucy to join laplace. this means lucy hadnt resigned.

the radio broadcast at the beginning of the event tells of a storm syndrome that turns people's insides into electrical wires. this syndrome doesnt match any storm directly in the main story (comic book explosions in 1966, money = food in 1929, oil paintings in 1914, people turning into blocks during vertin's breakaway incident; this was 1987, per the previous linked post). this might match, however, with greta's account of the storm in the star.

that's all fine and dandy, and windsong's presence in the laplace forum (which happens AFTER vereinsamt, as the forum discusses a charging station in vertin's suitcase to accommodate lucy) means the timeline is still fairly consistent. but what about the other events?

theft of the rimet cup is likely to be before Ch0 this is tomorrow. regulus was still in 1960s london at the time

green lake. horropedia recounts that the zeno campsite story seemed to have been in 1971, but when exactly is that in relation to the game's main story? still unclear, but should be after vertin establishes team timekeeper...

mor pankh, iirc, was also around 1960s, though whether this means it happened before the main story is up for discussion.

uluru games, as discussed above, should be after Ch4 at least, however it might be even later i.e., after Ch7 vereinsamt.

notes on shuori: no clue on this one... the one lead to maybe making sense of the timeline is yenisei, as it's implied she meets the timekeeper at the end of the event. the status of pei city and the storm is a different topic entirely, as well.

farewell rayashki: before one of the earlier storms prior to the main story (Ch0). see above.

after having finished vereinsamt, im quite excited to see where the story is headed next. although arcana is seemingly out of the picture, the manus still exist. what little i could garner with versions 2.0-2.2, without much spoilers, is the active presence of manus vindictae (or at least, one member) through characters like ms kimberly and ms grace. with anjo nala being a major character in Ch8 tristes tropiques, this might mean events 2.0 and 2.1 happen between Ch7 and Ch8. everything else, i have yet to know, however.

[dragonpyre]

Hi, this debate over claiming ethnicity vs nationality has definitely had me thinking. And I just wanted to contribute my Australian opinion. On one side my family has been in Australia for so many generations I wouldn’t even have a clue where to look to find out where we were before, but on the other side I have a grandfather who was born and raised in Ireland and he immigrated here a long time ago. And even though I personally have nothing to do with Irish culture that shouldn’t mean that I can’t claim some sort of connection just based on the fact that I’ve never been to Ireland. In fact, because it is a place of my heritage it is a place I want to visit and learn more about. So yeah, I’m Australian but I’m also Irish.

.

[pynkhues]

Stupid question, not sure if it’s been asked before, but: do you think Armand actually likes theatre/fine art or does he just adopt whatever his partner is into so deeply he has no clue it isn’t (or wouldn’t be) his bag if not for said partner?

That's not a stupid question at all, anon, and it definitely hasn't been asked of me before. Mmm, my gut instinct is to say that I think his interest in visual art is probably more authentic than his interest in theatre? There's that little beat in 2.06 where they're rehearsing the fake play, and Armand's a lot more attached to the projection art as a part of the show than seemingly everyone else, which feels fairly unique given how rarely he expresses that sort of personal preference. It actually could be reflective of his interest in technology too though, which is canonical to the books.

Film and projection art only really started to become a part of theatre in the 1910s and 1920s - probably the most famous magician of all time, Harry Houdini, was actually a very early adopter of that in around 1908/1909, and he was hugely into technology as a performing artist generally (I actually randomly know a bit about this as I've been researching/working on a creative project for a couple of years now about Houdini's 1910 tour of Australia where he brought this tech with him to the Melbourne vaudeville and variety scene [and hilariously became the first person to fly a plane across Australian soil, because he was also obsessed with flight technology, and also Australia is insane], and also just have a general interest in very early cinema).

We don't really know the show's timeline yet in terms of Lestat leaving Paris, nor if the show will follow the book in having Nicki be the one who really founds the theatre, but assuming Armand's at least being honest about the timeline, if Lestat left Paris around the turn of the 19th Century, it will be long before that sort of film/projection art existed in theatre. I think the 2.03 flashbacks were partially about showing us how much the theatre itself has declined / hit hard times / been impacted by the French Revolution and two World Wars, but still - - that sort of projection technology didn't exist when Lestat was performing in Paris, and so someone introduced it. The reality is too that it was innovative in the 1910s and 1920s (it really hit peak popularity - along with vaudeville and variety theatre, which is what the Theatres des Vampires are doing by the time Claudia and Louis meet them - in about 1925), and I think there's a pretty logical read there that that may have been Armand's doing.

It kind of works I think in terms of the creative friction within the troupe too, because both that sort of projection and variety theatre wasn't really in fashion by the 1940s when Louis and Claudia meet them. Armand feeling it's vital to their work and Santiago being over it (especially with Santiago being younger, and having wanted to be a serious actor) actually makes a lot of sense timeline-wise, and I think could be interpreted as an acknowledgement that the sort of theatre they're making is dated (cinema basically killed this type of theatre by the late 1920s, and that sort of projection art played a role, because with it came, well, film). The fact that Armand as the theatre director hasn't really kept up with theatre as an artform I think lends itself to him not being that into it personally / it being something he adopts because Lestat loves it, and he deifies Lestat.

If he is the one who adopted the projection art, and is the one still attached to it in the 1940s, I can see that indicating more that his interest in art and technology is perhaps a bit more authentic and true to who he is? I'm not going to be able to find it now (and don't have the means to check the ep at the minute, just because I'm not at home), but in the ep where Armand and Louis are contemplating what to replace the Francis Bacon triptych with in the Dubai loft, Armand suggests something that's extremely different to everything we've seen / that Louis likes, which I think is indicative of him having his own taste when it comes to fine art at the very least, but how much that might have been informed by Marius is anyone's guess right now.

But I actually, delightfully, think the interest in technology is all him, and I think you could make a case that Armand probably brought that projection technology to the theatre in the 1910s when it was genuinely a pretty innovative new invention to play with. It's interesting to think about!

[lovealwaysmichael]

Nosey press (Micheal Clifford x reader)

Cw: mentions of ed, sh, depression.

disclaimer: my first language is not English, I’m Vietnamese living in Australia so although I’m fluent, I still make mistakes!

-

“So, a fan tweeted something.. ‘obscure’ about you.” The interviewer poked at you with his words; commenting on something he shouldn’t have even brought up.

You blanked him. Your stare glared daggers into his soul, unfortunately letting him run his mouth a little further. “Do you have any comments on your disgraceful actions?”

“Which actions?” Genuinely you had little clue. Multiple posts were spread recently; all of which could be painted as disgraceful with the wrong interpretation.

He shook his head “The colourful scene plastered about between you and Michael Clifford?” He spoke as if it was obvious, yet still as if you yourself had no recollection of the events.

Though you did. - in fact it felt like it had only happened yesterday, so stuck into your mind you doubted you could ever forget it.

Michael frowned, taking your hand in his. “You don’t have to do that to be beautiful, baby.” He sighed; his eyes weren’t full of what peoples typically where. No pity, just love. Love and empathy. “You’re beautiful no matter what.”

“I wish I could believe that.. but I don’t see what you do Mike.” You huffed out a breath, cold night air leaving you able to view your own breath.

He intertwined your fingers, lightly swaying your arms between you. His gentle touch was all you needed in that moment. Yet you felt bad, you just told the boy about your relapse.

The awful escape you’d used all those years back had finally had a reason to bring you back to it. Hate was getting too much and it felt like you were your helpless highschool self being bullied all over again.

back then Michael had saved you from that dark space, your only friend. He’d kissed the scars on your skin, not putting pressure on you to stop, no ‘stop for me please’ no gross grimace, just a simple ‘I’m always here for you, I hope you know that.’

He was what pulled you out of your eating disorder, the thing that taught you it was okay to eat again.

You wished you hadn’t relied on him so much, but he did the same to you, it felt balanced, yet also so very unbalanced. “But it’s not just me, honey. So many people see that you’re beautiful, there are healthier ways to deal with this- talk to me, please.” He stopped in his tracks, just outside the target closest to your house. “I don’t want to risk losing you again.”

Luke had let you know a while back Michael’s thoughts when you’d been hospitalised due to your self-harming, when you’d lost so much blood he had to hold a towel to your wrists as he waited for the ambulance to come, watching his whole world slip in and out of consciousness.

Luke said he’d never seen the boy so distraught, that Michael simply sat in the corner of the waiting room, asking Luke why he wasn’t enough, why he hadn’t realised what was going on.

It broke you, it did. Even now, thinking about Michael’s thoughts on this subject hurt you, but you couldn’t change it. “You won’t.”

“but I could.” He placed a hand on your cheek, letting go of the grip he had on your hand. “And I don’t want that.”

You didn’t want to talk anymore, not on this subject anyway. So you pressed your lips against his. He kissed back straight away, backing you up into the wall, turning his head to deepen the kiss

This was what the paparazzi had caught. An innocent moment (barely even a make out) between two partners after a sad talk.

Photos taken and used out of context to make you both look bad. Being famous was hard. Of course not in a ‘oh woe always me’ kind of way, but more a ‘lack of privacy’ kind of way.

Not being able to do anything at all without somebody making you look like an awful person really sucked.

“How about we talk about the album instead?” You smiled fakely, letting the interviewer’s face drop. “You know, the thing this interview is meant to be about?”

“So that’s it? You won’t apologise to your fans for what you did? You’re evil, everyone knows you are. You-“

-Were leaving, that’s what you were. You pushed up off the chair and made your way across the room; the interviewer still yelled despite you not being in the room.

”you handled that better than I would’ve.” Michael smiled, greeting you as you entered the room he was in. He kissed you softly.

“I do try.” You grinned “god though. I really wanted to punch that guy.” He laughed, that was his partner. The person he fell in love with.

“yeah, I could tell.”

taglist: @thefearedfallen @cass1opi4

(if you want to be added to my tag list, please ask.)

[xplrvibes]

some people on twitter are getting really mad at colby for apparently ‘ditching’ shea for his new girl saying shit like oh he led shea on and now he’s pushed her away lol

they’re fully acting like he’s committed an awful crime like why are they cancelling him 😭

(side note - i’m actually, whole heartedly convinced that half of the fandom genuinely hates colby and everything he does fills them with rage lmfao)

This is going to be a one and done, on this topic. I don't like Shea, don't like what she's doing. Never did like her, as you all know, because she has been an absolutely awful and manipulative bully and generally trash person over the years and I don't want her taking up too much space on my blog because of it.

But I felt the need to just put this out there before I move on, so here we go, behind a cut for anyone who doesn't want to hear it lol.

You know, I find this whole "taking Shea on her word all of a sudden" thing interesting.

According to Shea, they had a 10 year (even though he was still living in Kansas 10 years ago) "on-again, off-again thing" that was "mostly just talking" and was "never official," although it was "almost dating, but not official" for 2 years (even though there hasn't been a 2 year period where Colby hasn't been at least seeing someone, if not hooking up).

She doesn't seem to know any of his friends and not a single one of them follow her on socials - in fact, most of them unfollowed her several years back. Of particular note is the fact that Sam, after all these years of her being Colby's future wife, still hasn't followed her back...but has followed several of the other girls Colby's been linked to over the years, including M.

She never seems to have a clue about what is going on in his life and has been promising (and not delivering) fans content with Colby for years now - including her telling everyone that her and Colby were going somewhere to film a documentary in January of this year when Colby had already told everyone on xplrclub that he and Sam were going to be in Vegas or in Texas filming in all of Jan and then in Australia for most of Feb. She promised to have him on one her streams on a day when he was actually in Hawaii, then another day when he was actually in Kansas visiting family.

She hasn't been invited to a single party or group gathering of theirs since 2019, save for one time when she visited Colby and Sam in Las Vegas - which came across as very awkward, given the above.

She complained about never getting invited to snc's Halloween parties - you know, the ones that have 500-1,000 invitees and snc have claimed include an invite to every single person they know and are friends with? Yet Colby's soul mate gets left on the list somehow, 6 years running?? (One year he had four different past flings there at once. But the future Mrs. Shea Brock just didn't make the cut somehow)

Oh, bonus: she once told a gc full of her fans that Colby asked her out, but she turned him down because she valued the friendship too much. Funny how those turns tabled.

Colby meanwhile, has never hidden that he considers himself single, does not think he's met "the one," uses Raya to find dates, hooks up and has flings....he's not just pretending to be single, he IS single.

So. to recap: They have had a 10 year friendship and emotional bond that Shea deluded herself into thinking was more. Colby comes around her again after having had a cancer that could've easily rendered him unable to have children, and her grand idea is to tell this guy she freely admits she was never even dating that she wants to cash in on some vague promise he may or may not have actually made to her about getting married and having CHILDREN???

I'd have left her ass, too.

But sure. He's the bad guy. By the way, to hear Shea tell it, Colby did the same thing to her that Sam did to Kat. But all the people trashing Colby were the first ones in line to defend Sam from big bad mean Kat and her hurtful words because "he wasn't ready" and wah wah wah. Isn't that funny...and on par.

So yes, lol. Most of the people pissed about this are using any excuse put in front of them to trash Colby cause that is the only enjoyment they get out of life. Trust me when I say they are backing the wrong horse with Shea. She's not the hero victim y/n sainted good girl she pretends to be.

[angelofthemornings]

Finally after a lot of running around I managed to get my sister's friend her HRT

It's just been a couple weeks of "we need the phone number attached to her account" (which is her mother's for some reason) and "you're ten dollars short" and "we need her insurance information even though she's self pay" and the phone tree robot lying to me about all of it.

Also managed to get her to her bloodwork and to Target for groceries. Monday I have to take her to the post office and figure out why she couldn't verify her ID online for an address change (maybe she didn't put in her legal name or legal sex or something and instead her preference), and then walk her through applying for Medicaid. I worry about her because her mother did literally everything for her and has no clue how to do any of this for herself and I think she might have like an intellectual issue.

My sister's cat is picking her skin again and I can't tell if it's because she doesn't like Sister's Friend or if it's because the house is now a mess since Friend does at least have some mental health issues and can't keep up with homemaking. Monday if Friend can still stand the sight of me after we do all her paperwork (she's shy and weird around people she doesn't know) I'll clean up some of the clutter, too.

Worried a little bit about my sister because she's probably going to have to take over all of this when she's back from Australia - I don't care if it's still me though, I'm unemployed - and she's already got a job and wife to look after. I hope Friend grows up a little bit. At least I hope she learns how to drive in this state. I think she *can* drive but we rescued her from one of the red states where the roads are Straight and Long and Flat and she's scared of Winding Skinny and Hilly, that is, every road in New England, so this is why I'm dragging myself all over creation trying to sort shit right for her myself.

I know I'm supposed to be trying to reverse engineer Bad Days so I can figure out why my anticonvulsants/mood stabilizers quit working, but I'll need to engineer a Good Day on Monday so I can actually do all this shit.

[beingdreeyore]

I haven't been around here much lately. Haven't been reading up on everyone or updating about my own world. I'm not really sure why. I'm just busy, I guess.

Life is quiet, but not in a bad way. There have been some setbacks, but they've been manageable. There have been some wins, they've been appreciated.

I passed another assessment last week. I have more results coming out this week. I've prepared to fail the one this week as I know how low the average mark is, how few people pass, and how much I struggled to keep time in the exam. I'm prepared for it as much as you can be. The anxiety will still hit as I'm opening the result and there will be a sense of defeat and disappointment when I finally see the mark there. But I have my plan in place already to resit. I know where I went wrong.

A cardigan I lusted for three Christmases ago was suddenly re-released in a limited run and I spent more than I should on shipping to Australia. I've worked nearly 20 hours overtime this week. I earned it. I'm not even sure that's really who I am or if it's even my style anymore, but I wanted it for so long... I guess deep down I'm still daydreaming about that white Christmas that is unlikely to happen.

My dance studio closed and my teacher deleted a select few of us off her social media. There was no explanation. It was like getting dumped or ghosted without explanation or warnings. I've spoken to others though and it's funny, the thing they always say to me is how shocked they are that I was one of those deemed unworthy given the unwavering loyalty I showed her. It hurt at first but I've made peace with it now. I thought we were friends, she has clearly communicated we aren't. Life goes on. I've started looking at new studios, mainly to force myself out of my bubble but I don't know if I'll go. I'm in the gym four or five days a week and I dance once a week at home. I'm content in the bubble for now. I'm not lonely, but I wonder if I should be. I even thought about joining the weightlifting club in the city, but I don't know... They have a masters team and it would probably be good to meet people. The bubble is so nice right now though.

I'm on track to finally (FINALLY) be done with my psychiatry training at the end of August next year. My compulsory five years of psychiatry training will be up then and by some miracle I may actually finish all the assessments on time (which is very much the exception. The typical time is about 7 years). So big decisions are coming for my life. Where to next...? I think I'll leave the city. There's nothing here for me anymore. My closest friends all live in other cities and other countries. I'm still single. Once the paperwork comes through saying I'm finished I'm free to work as much or as little as my financial situation dictates - the hospital no longer gets to have a say. And for the first time I have some say over which hospital it will be. It gets overwhelming to think about. I don't tell anyone because everyone immediately wants to know what my plans are. I don't know yet. My plan is to keep crawling to the finish line. Beyond that? I have no clue.

So I guess that's me? It's not a lot, but it's okay. There are no men. No prospects. No echoes from the past. It's quiet. And that's okay. It's peaceful. My standards have changed. My non-negotiables too. If that keeps me alone, that's okay. Although if you knew how long it had been since... Ahem... Well, actually, you probably do know. I wrote about it at the time. It was the last time I saw J.

So that's life. And it's not a lot. But it really is okay.