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

[sealsdaily]

Today's Sea Lion Is: Critical Hit

[softgrungeprophet]

genealogy always one of those things i'm curious about but is too much of a pain in the ass to bother with

[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

[adrienneleclerc]

A Cinderella Story

Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N, a McLaren mechanic, dances with the prince of Ferrari, at a Rolex masquerade charity ball. Charles has no clue who he danced with and is trying to find the girl of his dreams.

Warning: bad writing I guess, spelling and grammatical errors, inaccurate events

A/N: like i said before, I’m new to F1 so I don’t really know what kind of events go on so bear with me, please. Also, thank you so much for liking my other Charles Leclerc one shots, you have no idea how much it means to me that you like them. Y/N’s relationship with the Lando and Oscar is very much like brother and sister. Y/N is younger, mainly because I’m 21, hope all of y’all are okay with that.

Y/N was talking to Lando about his car after the Monaco Free Practice 1. (As a mechanic, she has her hair up)

“I am almost finished fixing your car, I think there’s something missing but it could be that I’m overthinking. You think you can test it out before FP2? That’s allowed, right?” Y/N asked, fishing her bracelet out of her pocket and putting it back on.

“Yeah I can drive it, 10 laps should be enough, yeah?” Lando asked, putting on his race suit and helmet.

“You’re the best, Lando!” Y/N exclaimed.

“I know.” Lando teased as he got in the car.

After the 10 laps, Lando got out of the car, took his helmet off, tied the suit around his waist, and walked to Y/N.

“The car is good, you worry too much, there is a reason why Zak hired you as a mechanic. Listen, I’m going out with the guys from Quadrant, want to come? I’ll invite Oscar too.” Lando said.

“Yeah sure I’ll come, when?” Y/N asked.

“I was thinking after the second practice, we can hit the showers, change, and go straight to the club.” Lando said.

“Okay, sounds good, I’ll go ask Oscar if he wants to come.” Y/N said, she was clearing her stuff and was on her way to talk to Oscar when she bumped into someone. “Que torpe soy, I'm so sorry.” Y/N apologized without looking.

“My fault, chéri, you alright?” Charles asked, looking at Y/N for signs of discomfort.

“Nah I'm good, thank you.” Y/N said flustered, unbeknownst to her, Oscar saw the whole thing go down and he was holding in his laughter. “Don’t you dare, Australia.” Y/N warned.

“Your crush on Leclerc is so obvious, America, it hurts to watch.” Oscar said between laughs.

“Ha ha, like you weren't like this around Lily?" Y/N asked.

"Yeah, I was nervous, but I definitely wasn't as bad as you." Oscar said.

"Anyway, Lando invited us to go out after FP2 with the quadrant gang, you coming? Please say yes, Lando is probably going to spend all night talking to Max anyway, I can’t be alone.” Y/N practically begged.

“Yeah sure, I’ll go, you need a few drinks to erase what happened with Leclerc.” Oscar said.

“Awesome! So Zak sent an email saying that he has a surprise for us tomorrow, do you have any idea what that might be?" Y/N asked, showing Oscar the email on her phone, Oscar took her phone to read it better.

"I don't know what it could be about. Anything that needs to be fixed in my car or is it good?" Oscar asked.

"it should be fine, i checked everything with Henry and Bryan (other mechanics), nothings wrong. It’s ready for the second free practice." Y/N said.

“Great. You'll be watching, right?" Oscar asked.

"Of course! Need to make sure my papaya boys get fastest lap." Y/N said.

"And your monegasque too." Oscar teased.

"Don't make me hurt you, Australia." Y/N said.

"You love me too much to do that, America." Oscar said, walking.

"Whatever." Y/N replied.

Two hours later, FP2 started, Y/N was watching everything with the rest of the team, eating chips.

“Is that necessary?” Andrea asked.

“You have no idea how much.” Y/N commented.

FP2 went well, Charles Leclerc got fastest lap. Lando and Oscar took off the helmets and balaclavas, tying their suits around their waists.

“Great free practice, sorry you didn’t get fastest lap though.” Y/N said.

“No your not.” Lando commented.

“Bet you were happy when Leclerc got it.” Oscar said.

“Well I can’t say I wasn’t happy.” Y/N said.

“Alright so let’s start getting ready. Will you drive or am I driving you?” Lando asked.

“I carpooled with Henry, drive me?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah sure. Shit, i can’t, gotta pick up Max.” Lando said.

“I’ll drive you.” Oscar offered.

“Thanks, Australia.” Y/N said. “Now both of you hit the showers, y’all are sweaty.” Y/N said.

After the boys showered, they changed, Y/N changed into something more club appropriate and let her hair down.

Y/N walked to Oscar’s car.

“What took you so long?” Oscar asked.

“Im a girl, guys can wear a shirt and jeans and everyone will freak out, if I wear the same thing, I get told I look crusty.” Y/N said.

“But you just had that outfit with you?” Oscar asked.

“If I learned anything from watching Crazy Rich Asians, you should always have a clubbing outfit and a cocktail outfit with you at all time.” Y/N said, getting into the passenger seat of Oscar’s car. “Lando sent you the address right?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Oscar said. He started the car, they listened to music and talked until they got to the club. They got in, Y/N said hello to everyone with a kiss on the cheek because that’s how her mom raised her. She sat at their booth and Y/N spotted Charles at the bar.

“Bro, Charles is here.” Y/N said, patting Oscar’s arm.

“And? You gonna do something or observe from afar like you always do?” Oscar asked.

“Well…” Y/N started but she saw a woman approach Charles. “I don’t want to interrupt his scintillating conversation.”

“I Don’t understand, you talk to Lando and I just fine.” Oscar commented.

“I was nervous around you guys too, don’t lie. I just got used to y’all, but I never had a crush this huge before, I’ve never been in a relationship, had a first date, or even a first kiss, I’m very inexperienced, okay?” Y/N admitted (guilty).

“So you’re just going to be pining away for him?” Oscar asked,

“Yep.” Y/N said.

The table ordered drinks, designated drivers get 2 drinks max. The night was fun, Lando got to deejay again, Carlos was also there so he joined their group. Since they had free practice 3 tomorrow, they needed to rest up. Oscar dropped Y/N off at her apartment, she changed, washed her face, put on a silk bonnet to protect her hair, and went to sleep.

The next morning, Y/N had her hair in two French braids and wearing her favorite bracelet. She drove to the the track and walked to the Lando’s garage.

“Are you as tired as I look?” Y/N asked.

“No, I feel fine, really.” Lando said,

“Lucky, i had trouble sleeping.” Y/N said. Lando was going to say something else when Zak came into the garage.

“Alright, I have an announcement to make. As you know, F1 is partners with Rolex, so we are invited to Rolex’s masquerade charity ball. It will be on Sunday after the Grand Prix. It starts at 8, it gives you plenty of time to get ready after the race and podium interviews.” Zak said. Everyone was excited.

“Would you give me money to buy a dress? And shoes?” Y/N whispered to Lando.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll go shopping with you.” Lando whispered back.

“This is why I love you.” Y/N teased. Zak walked towards Y/N and Lando went to talk to Oscar.

"Y/N, I need you in the McLaren Technology Centre on Monday." Zak said.

"Really? For what?" Y/N asked.

“For mechanical stuff. We’re planning on creating a new McLaren, you like the creative process, and I still need Henry and Bryan here if we have anything major to fix after the Grand Prix. I already got your ticket, first class too. Don’t miss your flight.” Zak said.

“Of course, I won’t.” Y/N said. Zak gave Y/N her ticket and she started checking the information. Her flight leaves at 3am. “Wait, isn’t this flight a little soon?”

“I know, but I need as many people working on the new McLaren as possible. You’ll only be there for 4 days, then you can relax in Monaco before we go to Canada.” Zak said and he walked away. Lands came back with Oscar and saw Y/N’s worried face.

“Whats wrong, America?” Oscar asked.

“If i go to the Rolex ball thing, I would have to leave before midnight so I have time to change and go to airport in Nice. Oh shit, I have to pack my luggage.” Y/N said.

“Can’t you just skip the ball?” Landon asked.

“Dude, when am I ever going to get invited to theses kind of events? I’m going and you’re taking me shopping.” Y/N said, pointing at Lando.

“Fine, but we’re getting food after. You think we can do it after qualifying?” Lando asked.

“I guess, but you’re calling the store, they know you.” Y/N said. “How do y’all feel about this race?” Y/N asked the boys.

“Max is definitely winning, but hopefully we’ll get on the podium.” Oscar said.

“I believe in you guys, really.” Y/N said before hugging them.

“But you also want Leclerc on the podium.” Oscar said.

“I’m just a girl, leave me alone.” Y/N said,

FP3 and Quali went by fast, no accidents. Max got pole, Charles P2, Oscar P3. During the break between FP3 and Quali, Y/N tried fixing up her Jeep Wrangler Sahara, with Zak’s okay so, of course. Lando texted Y/N the address to the shop and she drove there, parking right next to Lando.

“Alright, love, let’s get you that dress.” Lands said, guiding Y/N into the store with his hand on her lower back. “Hello, we’re looking for an evening dress for her.” Lando told the sales associate.

“Of course, all these dresses right here should be in your size, we have a selection of heels that would go well with these dresses as well.” The sales associate, Ana, said.

“Do you have any dresses in pastel blue?” Y/N asked. Ana started looking through the rack and pulled out a dress that she thought Y/N might like.

“Here you go. Because this dress has a slit, I recommend some tall high heels to elongate your legs. I prefer the platform ones like these.” Ana said, showing Y/N the heels. “Here is a dressing room, I’ll be right outside if you need help zipping it up, okay?” Ana said, handing Y/N the dress and heels.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N said, stepping into the dressing room and getting changed. She got the dress on and sat in the chair to put on the heels. After she strapped on the heels, she tries zipping up the dress, but can’t make it to the top. “Ana, I need help.” Y/N said. Ana pulled the curtain and helped Y/N zip the dress.

“You look beautiful.” Ana said. Y/N walked out of the dressing room, and she looked at Lando, who was on his phone, he looked up and his jaw dropped.

“Wow Y/N, you look great. You’ll be the most beautiful girl there.” Lando said, getting up to get a closer look. He made the motion to have Y/N twirl and she did.

“Not bad for a mechanic, right?” Y/N joked.

“Not bad at all. We’ll take it.” Lando said.

“I’ll change and we’ll be on our way.” Y/N said. Lando unzipped the dress, stopping right above her waist and Y/N unzipped the rest already in the dressing room. She changed, putting the dress on the hanger and the heels in its box, she got out and gave the things to Lando so he could pay.

After paying Lando handed Y/N her things and they walked outside to their cars.

“Thanks again for buy it.” Y/N said.

“Yeah of course. Where do you want to eat though? I’m starving.” Lands said.

“You pick.” Y/N said.

“If you say so.” Lando said. “Just follow me.” Lando got into his car, Y/N got in hers, and she followed Lando to Graziella, an Italian restaurant.

They were seated, Lando had beef tagliata with Gorgonzola sauce and French fries, Y/N had penne alla carbonara (I looked up the restaurant menu to be as accurate as possible). When they finished eating, they went to the parking lot to get their cars.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lando said goodbye, they hugged before driving off to their apartments.

When arriving to her apartment, Y/N started playing music as she packed for a four day trip. She hung her dress right in front of her closet. She finished packing, had a late night snack, and went to bed.

Tonight’s the night, after the Grand Prix with Max P1, Charles P2, and Lando P3, Y/N was getting ready, putting on her dress, her shoes, styling her hair down, and putting on her bracelet. Everything looked good, her luggage was already in her car. She drove to the venue where the ball was taking place, gave her name to the people in charge, and Y/N was given a masquerade mask.

(Choose whichever dress you like better)

Y/N walked in and all eyes were on her. She began fiddling with her bracelet until two guys approached her.

“America, you look great.” Oscar said.

“Thanks, Australia, Lando showed you the picture he took yesterday huh?” Y/N asked.

“He did.” Oscar said.

“I had to show you off. I don’t see you with your hair down that often, you know.” Lando said.

“I’m a mechanic, can’t have my hair in my face.” Y/N commented. “I’m gonna get a drink, okay, I’ll be right back,” Y/N said, she walked to the drink table to get herself some champagne and another guy walked up to her.

“You made quite the entrance, you know. You Commanded the attention of everyone in the room.” The guy spoke, his voice seemed familiar to Y/N but almost everyone in Monaco has a similar voice.

“Why thank you, kind sir.” Y/N feigned an English accent as she curtsied.

“Do you go to these events often?” The guy asked, also sipping champagne,

“Not really, it’s technically a work thing, but this is my first time going to a charity ball.” Y/N replied to the mask stranger. His eyes a beautiful shade of blue-green, his eyes feel so familiar to her, why the hell can’t she figure out who this guy is.

“I’m here for work as well.” The guy replied. They kept talking until a slow song started playing. “Care to dance, chéri?” The guy extended his hand to Y/N

“I’d love to.” Y/N said, taking his hand to dance.

“Baby blue is actually one of my favorite colors.” The guys admitted.

“It’s mine too. I love all shades of blue, but pastel blue is just beautiful.” Y/N said. “So since you’re here for work, what do you do? I’m a mechanic.”

“You’re definitely the prettiest mechanic I ever saw. I’m a driver.” The guys replied. What’s going on in Y/N’s mind is that he’s a driver and has a French accent, it could be Pierre, but he’s with Kika. She’s hoping it’s Charles but she doesn’t want to get disappointed either.

“Thank you, that’s cool that you’re a driver.” Y/N said.

They talked and danced some more, it was all going well until the clock chimed, saying it was 11:55pm.

“Listen, Frenchy, it’s been fun, but I gotta go,” Y/N said, pulling away from him.

“I’m not French, I’m monegasque.” The guy said, the confirmed Y/N’s suspicions. He took off the mask.

“Charles.” Y/N said.

“Yes, I’m Charles Leclerc, what’s your name?” Charles asked, Y/N heard the clock chime again.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go.” Y/N said, she exits the hall and puts the mask on the table before running out the the parking lot to get into her car to drive to her apartment. Charles chased after her but she saw her car leaving. He looked on the ground and he saw the bracelet that she was wearing on the floor.

“I will find out who you are.” Charles said, placing the bracelet in his suit pocket.

Y/N made it to her apartment, parked her car, went upstairs, got changed, and went downstairs to her car but it won’t start.

“Hijo de la chingada, this can’t be happening to me.” Y/N said. She got her luggage out of her car and order an Uber to nice airport,

The car arrived and dropped her off at the airport, she was on time for her flight, everything was good, but Y/N noticed her bracelet was missing.

“Ah, for fucks sake.” Y/N exclaimed as she waited in the terminal for them to call her flight.

Meanwhile Charles got into his Ferrari and drove back to his apartment. When he was home with his dog Leo, he was looking at Instagram to see if anyone posting from the event was the girl he danced with.

"What do you think, Leo? Am i going crazy?" Charles asked the blonde dachshund on his lap. He gets no answer. "Okay, maybe a little, but I had a wonderful time with her."

Charles decided to do the reasonable thing and posted a photo of the charm bracelet he found with the caption "Does this belong to you? Found on the floor of (venue) on May 26th. Contact me if this bracelet is yours." Charles turned off his phone and decided to go to sleep.

The next day, Y/N got off the plane, she turned off the airplane mode on her phone, and that's when she started recieving calls from Lando, she answered.

"Dude, what is wrong with you? I just got off the plane, who died?" Y/N asked, confused why she had so many texts and missed calls from Lando and Oscar.

"Charles posted a photo of your charm bracelet last night. You fucking danced with Charles and you didn't tell me or Oscar? We're happy for you." Lando said. "You should tell him its yours."

"No way, I know i told him i was a mechanic last night, but he is definitely expecting someone as beautiful as Kika, he would totally be disappointed if he finds out it was me." Y/N said, getting an Uber to drive her to the hotel Zak also booked for her.

"You are beautiful, Y/N, honestly, if we weren't friends, i would have flirted with you everyday until you gave me a chance." Lando said.

"Thank you but i can't help but feel how i feel. I gott go, I'm heading to my hotel then i'll go to McLaren, talk to you later." Y/N said.

The four days Y/N was in Woking, Charles was answering DMs of women claiming it was their bracelet. He would follow up with the questions "What do you do for work?" and "What color was your dress?" No one has answered those two questions correctly. Charles was starting to think it was a lost cause and he would never find her. He decided to go out with Pierre and Kika and he brought Leo with him.

"Still haven't found her, Charlie?" Pierre asked.

"No! It has been four days, everyone in my DMs who is claiming the bracelet is not her." Charles said.

"Charles, do you even know this girl's name?" Kika asked.

"I don't, i just have her bracelet and there is no indication of a name or anything that could be useful." Charles said.

"I'm sorry, Charles." Kika said, rubbing his arm.

"I felt we had a connection, even if she did call me frenchy." Charles said.

"Well there isn't a way to shorten 'monegasque' you know." Pierre said.

"Yes, I am aware." Charles said.

It was now the Canadian Grand Prix, Y/N flew with Lando and Oscar obviously. When they landed, they went to their hotel rooms, to leave their stuff and went to the hotel restaurant to order some food. Y/N had her hair down becasue she was not risking a ponytail headache. She was sitting with Oscar while Lando was talking to Carlos. Charles came downstairs and he spotted Y/N with her hair down. It looked remarkably similar to the girl he danced with. She saw Lando with Carlos so he sat right next to Lando.

"Hey Lando, quick question, did Y/N attend the Rolex thing?" Charles asked.

"She did, yeah, why?" Lando asked the monegasque.

"Does this happen to be her bracelet?" Charles asked, pulling out the bracelet from his pants pocket.

"Okay, why are you carrying that around?" Lando asked curiously.

"Just answer the question, Lando." Charles said.

"yes, yes, thats her bracelet." Lando admitted.

It all made sense, Charles started thinking about the first time he met Y/N and she called him 'Frenchy'.

It was Y/N's first day in the paddock and she walked into Charles's garage by accident. She was looking around and she bumped into him, Charles exclaimed something in French.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, frenchy, I'm just a little lost." Y/N said.

"First, I am not French, i am monegasque." Charles said.

"Oh my god, you're Charles Leclerc! Sorry, I'm Y/N, I'm looking for the McLaren garage." Y/N said, holding her hand out for Charles to shake, which he did.

"Its on the other side actually. So why are you here?" Charles asked.

"Oh, I am McLaren's new mechanic." Y/N said.

"Nice to meet you, I'll walk you to McLaren." Charles said.

Charles had a tiny crush on her since that day but Y/N hardly spoke to him so he thought she didn't like him. He wlaked over to the table where Y/N was with Oscar.

"Y/N, can i talk to you for a second?" Charles asked. Y/N looked at Oscar.

"I'm gonna sit with Logan." Oscar said, getting up. Charles took his seat.

"I think this is yours." Charles said, showing Y/n the bracelet.

"Are you disappointed to find out that i was the girl you danced with?" Y/N asked, too shy to look at him. Charles lift her chin with his finger so she could look in his eyes.

"Why would i be disappointed? I don't know if you noticed, amour, but I've like you since you came into my garage by accident." Charles admitted. "Were you disappointed to find out you danced with me? Is that why you rushed out so quickly?"

"No, of course not! I had to go to Woking for some McLaren business and my flight was at 3am so I had to leave to change and have time to go to the airport in Nice. I was so shocked that it was you though, like i was dancing with my celebrity crush the whole night." Y/N said.

"Good to hear I'm your celebrity crush. Let's get this bracelet on." Charles said, opening the bracelet, Y/N held out her wrist, and Charles successfully secured the bracelet on her wrist. "That's better."

"It is. Thank you for finding it, I would have died if i lost it." Y/N said.

"It's no problem. So i was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me, we could go after FP2." Charles suggests.

"I would like that a lot." Y/N said.

"Perfect. Is it alright if i kissed you? I've been imagining this moment for months." Charles said.

"Go ahead." Y/N said. Charles moved her hair behind he ear and kissed her softly. They pulled away. "That was way better than my dreams."

"You dream about kissing me, mon ange?" Charles teasingly asked.

"You imagined kissing me too." Y/N said.

"True, I'm glad i don't have to imagine it anymore though." Charles said, wrapping his arm around Y/N's shoulders as they looked over the menu.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! Was it too long? I thought it was okay

[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.

[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.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

grumpy! remus and sunshine!reader on their honeymoon <3 cutest ever

you have to hand it to your husband, he truly knows you better than anyone else.

the honeymoon had been the 'project' remus wanted to work on by himself as a surprise for you, and when you saw the plane tickets to reine you almost cried.

"remus, we can see the northern lights!" you all but scream the words as you push open your hotel door.

he only nods, but there's the smallest hint of a smile on his face as you shut the door and strip out of your 'airplane clothes.'

when you're just in your underwear you plop on the bed and sigh.

"maybe not tonight though," he mumbles as he watches you yawn. "we could go to a cafe or a pub tonight instead." remus opens your suitcase and finds a pair of soft loungewear for you.

"we'll have to have all our energy to stay up to see the lights too! do you know why we see it remmy?" you sit back up in the bed as remus gets closer.

"not even a clue, dovey." remus has every clue as to why the lights are visible, but he wants to her you ramble.

"from the sun!" you giggle madly and remus knows playing dumb is worth it. "basically, there's solar winds, which are different from sunlight that blow through space with electron and proton particles," you start and the shiver and remus holds the sweater towards you.

"arms up," remus instructs softly, but your rambling doesn't stop.

"the solar winds have to be really strong for us to see the lights too!" your head pops out, hair covering your face. remus' hand is gentle where it pushes the hair away, the gold of his wedding band cool against your forehead and it speeds up both your hearts.

"anyway, when the winds reach earth, it meets the northern and southern magnetic fields but they can't just let anything come through to earth." your rambling is getting more excited and remus can see your ches rising higher and higher and mumbles a,

"take a breath dove," your inhale is childlike but remus smiles all the same.

"so the magnetic fields push the solar winds away from earth and that's how we see the northern lights, or well, the aurora borealis. and then obviously there's the aurora australis which you see in australia."

remus kisses your forehead as he says, "obviously."

as he gets ready to change his own clothes, you start again, this time about norse mythology- remus eats up every word.

[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

[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.

.

[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.

[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.

[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.

[quill-of-thoth]

Letters from Watson: The Boscombe Valley Mystery

Part 1: The fun bits.

If Watson has half an hour to pack and catch a cab, and it takes 10-15 minutes to get from Kensington to Paddington station, he's having breakfast at about 10:30.

(Note that Google maps does not have "horse drawn carriage" as a travel option, so I'm assuming that the late Victorian London cabby has a speed somewhere between "car in the city" and "leisurely bicyclist.")

Holmes' paper wad isn't mentioned after he tosses it into the luggage rack. I imagine the next people in that carriage were somewhat baffled by it.

My personal omnibus copy of Holmes has the spellings modernized, so every time clue is spelled "clew" in the emails I laugh about it for a few seconds. Makes a great scrabble word though.

There are so many place names in here that I'm not going to go into where they are / if they're real places.

Literally every time someone mentions Australia there's potential blackmail involved. The moral of these stories is that you should never go to Australia. (Sorry Aussies, I would actually love to go there. Mostly to meet your smaller marsupials.)

Holmes states that he and Watson are middle aged - if my timeline holds Holmes is still in his early to middle thirties, and Watson is not yet forty. If we go by Baring-Gould's timeline, they're each most of a decade older than that.

A coat or a plaid: instead of just the pattern, a plaid is also a traditional scottish garment. Usually a long, folded rectangle worn over one shoulder that can be unfurled for use as a cloak or blanket.

Petrarch was a humanist scholar in early renaissance Italy. Often considered the father of humanism. Judging by Holmes' list of name dropped authors so far, he's literally only interested in philosophers. Even the novelists are following a trend of realism and humanism.

[girl4music]

From Apple Music: "In the 18 months after Taylor Swift released Midnights, it often felt as though the universe had fully opened up to her. The Eras Tour was breaking records and blowing past the billion-dollar mark; its attendant concert film became the highest-grossing of all time. She generated interest and commerce and headlines everywhere she stepped foot, from tour stops to the tunnels of NFL stadiums. In 2023, she was named both TIME magazine’s Person of the Year and—just as iconic, tbh—Apple Music’s Artist of the Year. 

But do songs about that level of success speak to you? As the news broke that her highly private six-year relationship to Joe Alwyn had ended, Swifties started Swiftie-ing, quickly recirculating a clip on social media of Swift a few weeks earlier, onstage during an early Eras show, in tears as she sang “champagne problems”—a song she and Alwyn had written together. It was a reminder that, despite the superhero-like aura she now radiates, Swift, at her peak, still hurts like the rest of us. What sets her apart is her ability to sublimate that pain into pop. When she announced her 11th studio album in early 2024—while accepting another Grammy, as one does—we probably shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“I needed to make it,” she’d say of THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT a few weeks later, to a crowd of—[rubs eyes]—96,000 in Melbourne, Australia. “I’ve never had an album where I’ve needed songwriting more than I needed it on TORTURED POETS.” Working again with trusted collaborators Jack Antonoff and Aaron Dessner, she returns to the soft, comfortable, bed-like sonics of Midnights. But the stakes feel noticeably higher here: This isn’t so much a breakup album as it is a deep-sea exploration of everything Swift has been feeling, a plunge through emotional debris. 

On “But Daddy I Love Him”—over strings and guitar that faintly recall her country roots—she lashes out at the crush of scrutiny and expectation she’s been subject to from the start. Naturally, catharsis comes after the chorus: “I’ll tell you something right now,” she sings. “I’d rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning.” On “Florida!!!” she and Florence + the Machine team up for a pulpy escape fantasy wherein they Thelma and Louise their way down to the Sunshine State in hopes of starting over with new lives and identities: “Love left me like this,” they sing. “And I don’t want to exist.”

At turns hilarious and heartbreaking, TTPD is a study in extremes, Swift leaning into heightened emotions with heightened, hyperbolic, ALL-CAPS language and imagery—how we think when we’re drunk on love or flattened by its sudden disappearance. Note the dark humour she weaves through the Post Malone-enriched opener “Fortnight” (“Your wife waters flowers/I wanna kill her”). Or the thrilling self-deprecation of “Down Bad”, a foray into science fiction wherein Swift likens the warmth of a relationship to being abducted by love-bombing extraterrestrials—only to be left “naked and alone, in a field in my same old town.” 

But this remains her most candid and unsparing work to date: As a listener, you frequently get the feeling that you’ve stumbled across emails she’d written but never sent, or into conversations you were never meant to hear. There’s a density and a specificity and a ferocity to her lyrical work here that makes 2012’s “All Too Well” feel sorta light by comparison. If you’re the kind of Swiftie who likes to live in the details, well, this one might be your Super Bowl. “You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues?” she asks on the devastating “So Long, London”, a high point. “I died on the altar waiting for the proof.” Alone at a piano on the haunting “loml”, she flips the script on someone who’d told her she was the love of their life, by telling them that they were the loss of hers: “I’ll still see it until I die.” 

The story, as you likely know, doesn’t end there. We get a glimpse of new beginnings in “The Alchemy” (“This happens once every few lifetimes/These chemicals hit me like white wine”) and something like triumph in the montage-ready synths of “I Can Do It With a Broken Heart”, when Swift, shattered on the floor, “as the crowd was chanting, ‘More!’,” still finds the strength to deliver: “’Cause I’m a real tough kid and I can handle my shit.” 

But we also get a sense of acceptance, of new-found perspective. On “Clara Bow”—named after a 1920s movie star who was able to survive the jump from silent film to sound—Swift reflects on the journey of a small-town girl made good, sung from the vantage of an industry obsessed with the next big thing. She zooms out and out and out until, in the album’s closing seconds, she’s singing about herself in the third person, in past tense, acknowledging that nothing is forever. “You look like Taylor Swift in this light, we’re loving it,” she sings. “You’ve got edge she never did/The future’s bright, dazzling.”

I'm not restricting or limiting her artistic potential or anything but I really think Taylor Swift's niche in genre is dream, folk or synth-pop. That ethereal soundscape goes well with her small-ranged voice and her lyrical style works best when it's telling stories about stuff that isn't even necessarily about her, but about someone or something.

It's her niche. Where she sounds her best. When she's at her best.

I like the fact that in this album she's not worried about singles because most of these songs are too long for radio play unless they have to cut them down, and we all know how she feels about that. It's an album meant to be an album. It's a proper concept album. She doesn't need to worry about singles anyway. She'll sell regardless.

It sounds bloody fantastic in lossless 24-bit 48kHz ALAC/FLAC.

She's done it again. Created a musical masterpiece.

Like we'd expect anything less from Taylor Swift.

"As a listener, you frequently get the feeling that you’ve stumbled across emails she’d written but never sent, or into conversations you were never meant to hear. There’s a density and a specificity and a ferocity to her lyrical work here that makes 2012’s “All Too Well” feel sorta light by comparison." Yeah, you do with every great songwriter. The difference is great songwriters that are actually the musical artists of what you're listening to don't often exist in the pop industry.

Taylor Swift takes up space in pop music because she demands it. Most people would scoff at it. Even call it egoic. I highly respect it because she brings to pop music the point of the music. Art - not just entertainment. There's a phrase I use: Art is meant for expression, not impression. And she provides and delivers both seamlessly within each other. That's why the space she demands, she deserves. Not just any pop artist can do that or have that mark in the pop industry because most of them don't even write their own fucking music.

So if you feel like you shouldn't be present when listening - you feel put out or uncomfortable in any way - that's how you know you're listening to a true and great songwriter because they all DO THIS.

[libertyreads]

Book Review #20 of 2024--

Everyone on This Train Is a Suspect by Benjamin Stevenson. Rating: 4 stars.

Read from March 16th to 17th.

This is what I've been longing for all month long. I had zero intentions of finishing this book in less than 36 hours, but the heart wants what the heart wants. It's an especially surprising feat given I spent half of that time either working or commuting. My brain found a hyperfixation to override my depression and said "All Aboard!" (Train reference. Ha.) I was surprised to see that I also gave the first book in this series a 4 star rating since I thought this one was actually a bit better than the first. But I also remember feeling the need to bump it up last time based on the writing style and structure.

In this one we follow author Ernest Cunningham who managed to survive a serial killer on the mountains in his last book and who somehow has to survive a train full of murderous authors. He's invited to an author convention aboard a famous train in Australia and things roll along from there (is this stretching the metaphor a little too far? Probably.). I really like the way this series is written and the whole structure of the story. Ernest as a narrator is just so fun. I agree, though, with what Gavin from GavinReadsItAll who said that continuing the series from here might be difficult just because they'll have to try to keep it fresh and new which is hard to do in this format. Based on the way the story ends, I can see a few ways the author can achieve it. I just think it's going to take thinking outside of the box a little bit. I always enjoy a reliable narrator and when the clues are on the page for anyone to pick up and solve the case. There were a couple of things I figured out well before Ernest gave his big reveal at the end, but a few surprises that didn't feel unbelievable.

I think this one had to find its footing a little bit in the actual mystery. How do you follow up the success of the first book? How do you give more twists without being an unreliable narrator? And how do you have subplots that are worth the page time? I think some were more successful than others but can I really fault this book too much when I read it in a day and a half? I don't think I can. I hope there are more in this series in the future and that it manages to keep the structure and writing style fresh and fun.