#Give Louis his flowers

[themotherofallthings]

Someone give Louis Tomlinson his flowers already!

I woke up early this morning, as I often do, thanks to years of working and horrible insomnia. And like most mornings these last few years, I grab my phone and begin to scroll my twitter feed. Louis had a show last night and I wanted to catch up on anything I might've missed once the show had ended and I headed to bed. Per usual, there is a lot of beautiful pics and tweets from concert attendees, waxing poetic about how good the show was and how proud of Louis they are. Typical fare for this fandom, nothing new to add.

I keep scrolling and I land an account, tweet sharing what looks like snippets from an "article" or "blog piece" (not sure which) from the "Medium". I stop dead in my tracks and read the multiple tweet thread of the most biased, vile drivel I've come across in a long time. And I've been here a while.

Firstly, opinions are just that, opinions. And this person's opinions are theirs and theirs alone but sadly, speak to a larger issue within music, the industry and the fandom experience itself.

This writer attended a Louis show with a friend who was a fan. Their only "knowledge" of him coming from this friend & any indirect knowledge because of his time in One Direction. But from the outset, the writing and pov, comes off immediately biased and judge-y.

"a sea of teeth in braces, puffy cheeks and pigtail buns" - commenting on the appearances of the young fans - note - very young fans "Most attendees are too young to drink legally". Because that's what matters about attending a show. Moving on.

"There are no dancers, there is no set piece, there is no stage show, no performance, no outfit changes"

Every artist curates their live show for themselves & their fans. To achieve the best possible experience and set expectations of how the night is going to go.

Louis has no illusions here. He is not "the greatest showman that ever lived" and HAS NEVER PRETENDED to be. He is a straightforward musician who's job it is to sing and engage with the fans. Which he does. For anyone paying attention, he's definitely come a very long way from those 1st early shows and is far more relaxed than he was back then. BUT and this is a huge but, to see and understand this, you have to know his journey and his story, which this person does not (though she does allude to knowledge of AOTV).

She even comments on it by calling him "the least memorable person in a lineup of five" the very criticism he levelled at himself. It's a gut punch to read a rando say something like this, which, we as his fans know, is something he had always been made to feel like while he was in the band, despite most of the 1D fans acknowleding the loved Louis, as did all the guys. Niall, calling him "the glue; the guy who made sure they didn't lose the plot". This is all surface, she doesn't know really know or see him or his lost potential. Nor is she likley to care.

The other thing that I find troubling, aside from her personal views of his singing talent and lacklustre show and personality, is the comments levelled at fans and their enjoyoment/appreciation of 'good music'.

I won't get into the 3 "types of fans" that she describes present at the show she attended because it doesn't matter to the point of my rant (though is it pretty basic & lacking nuisance but I digress). The one label that did stick out was the "cheerleader fan" and her opinion that these fans are only here to support Louis - who by her own opinion and pov, stated was the least successful/memorable and "is forever defined against his more popular former band mate" for unknown reasons. I'm assuming she thinks they are here because they find him cute? Not sure.

"For the Underdog Cheerleaders, it’s not about music so much as it is about identifying with... the least memorable person in a lineup of five" because identifying with an artist is problematic? Dumb? Unimportant? Allow me to show you the stadiums filled with Taylor's fans, who all identify with her and her music.

That is sort of the fan's job. To support and champion their fave, especially when they are not given their proper due. Now I'm not mentioning TS and comparing her to Louis or vice versa, that woman has GOTTEN ALL HER FLOWERS and good for her, but she goes on to claim that "his lines are almost comically generic" speaking about his songwriting. This clearly tells me she wasn't paying attention or was at the bar or bathroom & must've been absent when Copy of a Copy of a Copy was performed. Or when he sang All this Time or Holding on to Heartache. Because you would have to be dead inside to not have had a reaction to the bridge of HOTH & not hear the emotion in his voice as exhales those words, "Nothing's ever easy, to be honest, I'm not easy on myself". Those lines cut me and left me bleeding on the side of the road when I first heard them. But you know, comicially generic. Whatever.

This entire article reads like a hit piece bought and paid for by some industry insider. She literally lists every critiques antis, toxic Harries and Swifties and even Simon himself have levelled at Louis over the years. But this article doesn't require a conspiracy theory to explain. She doesn't like Louis. Or his music. She finds him boring, and apparently isn't a "deep enough lyricist" for her cold, cerebal mind to engage with.

"I’m left wondering what all these thousands of young fans really care about...it doesn’t really seem to be about the music...at its innermost core, this fandom is about itself."

Let me first say this, music, like most are is subjective. It's personal taste. Some fans love country. Some love rock. Some love Classic metal punk with a side of Beethoven. It's music and because it is one of the most uniquie artforms, its enthusiasts will engage and appreciate it for different reasons. And one of the most amazing things about being a fan of music in this day and age, is fandom.

I am old as fuck. And I can genuinely say that being a fan of music since I was 8 years old and first discovered what the radio did in my parent's living room, I have been a fucking fan. But I grew up in a time where there were no online fandoms. No one to scream about Simon's cute outfit or Billy's snarling at an interviewer that one time, or dying with when Jon BonJovi cut his hair. It was a different fan experience back then. There was no online community. No fandom family to go through it with you when Wham broke up.

Fandom has always been controversial because it has always mostly been made up of young women. And young women have had their taste in music disrespected and vilified for decades (starting with the Beetles). Research it. So I find it kind of sad this writer questions why these fans love Louis and his music so much. Because the reasons don't matter. There are many or none. They just are. That's sort of how art works. You feel it. You don't really see it with your eyes but your mind. Your skins senses it before your heart does. And that is how music is or should be. It should not just be about catchy pop one liners or streams or charting. It's about how it makes you feel. The memories it in invokes when you hear a song many years later. It's the way we still remember the words to that one song from the summer during our 3rd year of high school. How do you quantify that? You can't.

I grew up during a very rich and varied musical landscape, so when I tell you that I have loved almost every genre of music, I have loved it for many, many different reasons. Sometimes (when I was younger) because the lead singer was cute and dressed nice and other times because the beat/bop was too good to ignore to not want to sing from the top of my lungs. NEVER ONCE DID I CARE IF THE LYRICS WERE "GENERIC" or that it wasn't popular among my friends or that it didn't fill my head with mythical imagery. If it made me happy and it entertained me, then it was enough for me. Not every artist is going to be Bob fucking Dylan or Taylor Swift. And that's okay. But Louis IS a great song writer and he himself has said he's not big on writing metaphors and cares more about conveying an emotion and a moment in time and we find that engaging. We are still moved when he sings "Saved by Stranger" or Paradise or Change. Because they are good songs that convey a particular moment, sentiment or emotion we can all connect with.

Look, I respect that not everyone is going to 'get' everyone's fave. I don't get Taylor Swift, but I can acknowledge that she has talent but I don't fucking need a show to enjoy her music. But she does that because SHE enjoys that and it definitely helps justify the cost of her tickets. No disrespect, I blame TM for that, mostly.

"To his credit, he really doesn’t pretend to be more than he is — that’s all other people‘s doing"

And that is sort of the point of him. He is not pretending to be something he is not. He is geniune and down to earth and not full of himself like so many other successful artists are and can be. He earned the right to put on airs coming out of 1D and their success. But he doesn't. He says, "this is who I am, take it or leave it" and for his fans, they take it, in spades.

So go read the article for context (or don't - it's probably better for you blood pressure & mental health) but understand that this one person's pov, is not going change who we are as a fandom. We see something in Louis that resonants with us. Maybe it's the "underdog" mentality. Maybe it's the 'cute lad from the north of England' vibe. Maybe it's his no nonsense approach to song writing and performing, but there is no denying there is something about Louis Tomlinson that draws you to him. You want to engage with him. You want to sing his songs. And you do. We all do.

So please, someone give this man his flowers. They are long fucking over due.

[mad-hunts]

LOUIS MATHIS, THE INTELLIGENCE GATHERER — a walking collection of information to use against enemies and who's responsible for 'scaring' problematic clients a little to keep them in line.

[miraculan-draws]

Jacob Anderson gets a lot of very well-deserved praise on his accent work in IWTV, especially in the sense that it goes back and forth— the thick NOLA Creole drawl to the sterile, stripped-clean, carefully blank American that he uses in Dubai, and then back again. If you listen closely, you can hear him very subtly letting that drawl "seep" back in during really intense Dubai scenes. It's absolutely phenomenal.

BUT! I would also like to give Sam some flowers that I don't see mentioned much. Mostly because we only hear it in two scenes, with very few lines: the reunion scene in 2x08, and the S3 Teaser. Sam is doing! Two completely different accents at once! And I KNOW it's intentional bc it's a book thing and our boy has a doctorate in Lestat.

In Louis' account of events, Lestat was fresh off the boat. The French accent is very thick, and he also peppers in a lot of French into his sentences. (Most fic writers tend to lean into this). But by our start date in 2022, Lestat has been living in Louisiana for over a century. In TVL, set in the 80s, Lestat describes LOUIS as the one having an accent.

So what is Sam doing with this?

FOR STARTERS. There are whole stretches of words, entire lines in those scenes even, where Lestat sounds pretty casually American: "shut up" like "shuddup", "and I thought, who better to carry on the great work", "Siri, pause". The French thickens a bit when the emotion intensifies, but even then it's not entirely present like it is in the rest of the show. The nasality and softened "T" of "nineteen sevendy three" "Did you hurt yourself?", the "I can't, Louis." THE WAY HE SAYS LOUIS' NAME SOUNDS DIFFERENT. not lew-EE anymore, but LOO-ee.

The teaser?? Very fun. The entire line "There's a goblet on the table." And "but, then again...it might not." AND!! Of course accents of all kinds tend to soften when singing, but in the song he only sounds French when speaking French.

And these HAVE to be conscious choices, they have to be planned and the ratios played with because neither of these are Sam Reid's speaking voice. He is doing two accents at once and it's so subtle but it's also doing so much to make Real Lestat distinct from Memory Lestat. What a GIFT what a TREASURE what SUBLIME leads we have for this show.

(Assad I see you scheming too, I will gush about you too)

[soobnny]

dating him | lee felix

❝ if you win this round, i’ll give you a kiss ❞

chan | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | FELIX | seungmin | jeongin

lee felix

the pda king that u are

sorry to get straight to the point but

he’s always touching u in some way 😭

obsessed i’m telling u

whether that’s a hand on ur back pocket, maybe ur intertwined hands in his hoodie pocket, his legs over urs on the couch

he just wants to be touching u all the time bc he is just a lovestruck boy at the end of the day

and there is no feeling more blissful than having you so close to him

i 100% stand by the idea that he would be so insufferable if circumstances were to separate u for a moment

would send u 91837473 texts

calls u too if u aren’t busy

most preferably facetime so he can see u

the boys end up gifting him a pillow with ur face on it bc he just would not shut up about missing u

he is also the saw this n thought of u texts

yes that’s why u receive a million texts

bc a million things remind him of u

he sees a spoon?

hey! u use a spoon too!

the weather is nice?

he has to tell you that! he knows u love when the weather is nice!

speaking of texts, good morning and good evening texts at the most abnormal hours

(sent at 3:24pm) good morning princess ❤️

(sent at 5:11pm) goodnight my love

moving on

u two actually dated bc of hyunjin

look i know felix is extremely good looking and handsome and could pull 92848 girls

but he is honestly just such a shy boy

“hi, felix lost his number. can u give him yours instead?”

“did u just hit on me for him?”

😭😭😭😭😭

TEARSSSSS like hyunjin is shameless

but whatever, it worked

sometimes felix sends him a gift too on ur anniversary bc it’s all thanks to him

one of his favorite memories of u two dating is when u taught him how to braid his hair

who knew it could be so convenient

and look THAT good too

u catch his hair braided while gaming when u surprise visit once

it isn’t as neat as it would’ve been if u were the one who did it

but u could recognize that technique anywhere

it’s the one u’d taught him noooooo 😭

love language: physical touch and baking sessions and teaching u to game

physical touch done

next up .. baking sessions

u could either make the best batch of brownies or almost burn the kitchen down bc u two were too busy making out

u’d also get into a mini food fight

would 100% put red icing on ur lips and blue on his and say u two should make purple

he thinks he’s so cool and smooth

who’s gonna tell him

he’s a LEWSERRRRR but your loser

felix just honestly is happy he gets to combine two of his favorites: baking and u

and then there’s him teaching u to game

he would be so patient with u

and if u were playing, he’d be by ur side the whole time and coaching u

he’d take videos and photos for sure

if he’s the one playing, best believe you’re on his lap if the game isn’t all that competitive

“boooooo! hyung!” — jeongin 2024

he says that bc while felix was communicating, he heard u

felix also strikes me as the type to build u a world in minecraft

he’d make you a cute little house with cherry blossoms around and a garden and a pet

and he calls you just to RAMBLE excitedly about it

man he’s just too cute what the hell 😭😭😭😭

his dates are actually kind of expensive

and his gifts too

he’d be like “no no no i swear it isn’t expensive”

and it’s a louis vitton necklace or smthn

u have so many cute dresses

he especially loves picnics with wine and fresh fruits and carefully made sandwiches in a basket

and FRUIT PICKING

he would love that so much

i think felix would also love if u helped him dye his hair

bc again .. he loves having u close

so i said changbin fails at legos right

felix is too good

he LOVES legos

he even buys u those flower ones

he would do anything to spend time w u

including legos

he particularly loves that it takes kind of a long time so u two would be together the whole time

anyways felix is honestly just such a sweetheart

very very very green flag behavior

he respects ur needs

listens to u without judgement

u have such a healthy relationship with his family

like his mom calls you

“hi! felix isn’t home rn”

“oh no no, i called to say hi to you”

oh they love you

gagged felix

u have dates with his sisters

and it confuses him too like

u would come over their house and he’d tell his family like oh! my gf is allergic to this!

his mom replies “i know”

LIKE WDYM YOU KNOW

felix couldn’t be any more happy anyway

it’s great

congratulations ❤️

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[daisyblog]

English Love Affair

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN plays ‘English Love Affair’ to see Harry’s reaction.

based on this request.

YN scrolled through her phone, trying to find a song to play from her Spotify to put on whilst she cleaned, recording herself to upload to her TikTok later on.

“Guys does anyone else need music on whilst they clean?”. She asked the silent audience, knowing that nobody could answer her. “I just love a sing and dance as I do it”.

As YN scrolled through her never ending playlists, her eyes lit up when she saw the popular 5sos song that was popular in the directioner world. “Fook off…how could I forget this song existed!”.

“It started on a weekend in May…I was looking for attention, needed intervention…Felt somebody looking at me…With a powder white complexion, feeling the connection”.

YN began to mouth along to the words knowing Harry would appear any minute to tell her to turn it off. “I’ll give Harry ten seconds before he appears”. YN continued to dance as she placed some dishes in the dish washer.

“The way she looked was so ridiculous…Every single step had me waiting for the next…Before I knew it, it was serious…Dragged me out the bar to the back seat of her car”.

“Turn it off!”. Harry voice echoed in the distance.

YN stopped her dancing as she placed a hand up to her mouth to stop her laugh from bursting out. “What did you say? Can’t hear you!”.

“When the lights go out, she's all I ever think about…The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain I can't forget, my English love affair…Today, I'm seven thousand miles away…The movie playing in my head of a king size bed means I can't forget…My English love affair”.

Harry appeared in view as he stood with an unamused look. His arms folded across his chest, the muscles of his biceps shouting out as they tensed.

YN rolled her lips inside her mouth, trying her hardest not to let out a hint of amusement as she looked at Harry’s harsh frown. But her internal battle failed her as she sang the next line.

“My English love affair”.

“Why are you listening to this song? There’s millions of other songs you could listen to…and you choose this fucking one!”. Harry voice was calm for someone who was clearly annoyed and irritated.

YN shrugged her shoulders as she gave Harry an innocent smile. “It’s a good song”.

“It’s about my sister…yah know…and yeah”. Harry tumbled over his words, not wanting to say what the song was about out loud. “Imagine having to listen to a song like that about your siblings”.

YN knew what Harry was trying to do, but she was one step ahead of him when it came to arguing the point. “Yeah…at least you know how Louis felt listening to Watermelon Sugar!”.

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to find a way to defend himself, but his lack of words failed him.

Wanting to push his reaction further, YN continued to sing along. “Gemma’s a queen for this one!”.

“YN!”.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994 @macy-tpwk @mrs-anna-styles211994

[1d1195]

Invitation

~3.5k words

From me: I mentioned I had a kinda rough weekend. This just sort of wrote itself. Def a stand alone. Second chance at love. I wrote it mostly in the drafts page and didn't do a whole lot of editing for continuity so it's probs not very realistic nor will it make a ton of sense. But anyway.

Warnings: MC parent death; funeral, angst, angst angst. But I'm hoping if you read it you'll see some cathartic, comforting fluff.

Summary: She and Harry broke up years ago and it was completely fine. But seeing her again, even under sad circumstances has his heart pulling him closer to her.

It had been eight years since he had last laid eyes on her. But when he read the piece on her mum off a mutual friend’s Facebook page he was transported back to one of those moments he spent so totally in love with her.

The idea that her best friend was gone made him terrified for her well being. It was the reason he was in a hotel room, straightening his tie in the mirror. Double checking he didn't miss any spots while shaving. He looked simultaneously presentable yet solemn. Her mum was special, beautiful. She made Harry feel at home the entire time they dated. Bought him thoughtful gifts for his birthday and Christmas. Made sure she bought his favorite snacks and always inquired about school, work, or his favorite show. She joked with her that Harry was too good for her and she didn’t treat him well enough (which was inherently false). She was the perfect girlfriend and had the perfect mum.

He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling.

Harry didn’t want to make his appearance about his arrival at the funeral home at all. He stepped in line silently, tried not to make eye contact with anyone and slowly made his way through toward the front, pretending he was invisible. He looked at the picture boards as he walked along his favorite girl and her mother in so many of them. Both were beautiful and Harry thought she was going to look just like her mother when she was older and so he was really lucky that he would know she was beautiful for the rest of his life. But he would have predicted that anyway.

Their relationship ended amicably enough. They were changing, time moving on, and quite frankly it felt like they couldn't spend enough time together so it didn't seem fair. "Shouldn't we want t'spend time with each other, beautiful? Shouldn't we feel feel bad we're not spending time together? It shouldn't be forced. You're m'favorite person in the world, kitten. S'not fair."

He was right of course. She agreed. So they went their separate ways. Since they were still in university at the time, they saw each other frequently. Their friend groups overlapped a bit so they weren't rid of each other all that much until after graduation. There was even a picture of the pair of them together on that day--her mum's suggestion. It was apparent more so then, that they were changing and moving on but Harry was grateful for that picture. When he saw the notice of her mum's passing, he looked at it fondly and felt something in the pit of his stomach. Wanting and wishing he had made more time for her. That she wasn't so busy and their time apart hadn't lasted as long.

But that was eight years ago. Harry was thirty now. He had a few girlfriends during that time and maybe it wasn't a surprise they didn't work out. When he inquired of his friends if he should go to support her, they said it was up to him. Louis and Eleanor were out of the country so they would send flowers. Mitch and Sarah were waiting for Sarah to give birth at any moment so they too, would send flowers.

"I'll be at the funeral," Niall assured him. "I can't make the visiting hours, sorry, Harry," Harry could hear his frown as they spoke on the phone.

"S'okay, s'nice y'can make it t'any of it. She'll appreciate it."

"I hope," a frown in his voice, a sigh in his tone.

"No, she will," Harry was confident. She would never make Niall feel bad--anyone feel bad. It was just the way she was.

Harry was in front of the urn containing the ashes of her mother and he knelt and said a short prayer for her and her sweet daughter. He tried not to think about his own mother at such a sad time and how he would feel if this was her. He shook his head, blessed himself automatically, and stood to greet the receiving line. It was filled with aunts and uncles who were surprised to see him. He didn't fully understand their surprise (of course he would be there for her--even if things were different now) but moved to each one, quietly apologizing for the loss of their sister and only answering how work, life, and everything was with as few words as possible. It was just her and her mom. Dad was out of the picture before she was even born. It wasn't a bad thing because she was her mum's whole life and she never made her want for anything. "Where is she?" Harry asked quietly. Usually the children were first in the line but she wasn't there.

"Another spat with the boyfriend," her aunt rolled her eyes. "You are by far our favorite," she smiled at him encouragingly. "Don't leave till she gets back, if you can. She deserves to see someone who will make her happy right now," she winked.

Harry felt his eyebrows crawl up his forehead in surprise. He nodded. Pride bloomed inside him for being the favorite. It wasn't the time but he couldn't help it. His heart felt heavy, worried she was with someone horrible. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

So Harry stayed in the little seating area, watching people walk through the receiving line, looking at the slideshow of pictures that somehow managed to boil down to one person's life. There was even a picture or two of him. It made sense, he was in her life for nearly four years and they were inseparable until they weren't.

Harry smiled fondly at the memories within the pictures and wondered where she could be right now. He had seen the full slideshow twice.

"Harry, you're still here?"

He cleared his throat, stood, and shook one of her uncle's hands again. "Yeah... um... haven't seen her yet."

"She went outside with the boyfriend ages ago. I'm assuming they're still arguing or she's trying to calm herself down enough to come in and fake that everything's fine."

Harry frowned. "Maybe I'll go check then," he suggested and headed for the door.

Why was she dating someone if it was clear no one in her family liked him?

The men at the door, let Harry through and he quietly walked to the side of the building wondering where she could be having a private conversation at a funeral home. The side was dark except for a flood light that perfectly illuminated the couple. Harry stepped out of sight but strained to listen.

"What do you mean, 'you have to go'? You're seriously joking right?"

Harry didn't know her voice could take on a tone that sounded so angry like that. They never fought that way. No more than who's pizza topping was better or if they had to pick which dinner place to go to on a busy Saturday night.

"Babe, you know with my work--"

"This is my mother," she croaked. It felt like a bullet through Harry's chest to hear her choked up like that. All that grief wrapping in her throat and pulling on her vocal cords.

"I know, but don't you think she would want me to continue living my life and doing what I need to do so--"

"She's my best friend," her voice cracked because she was crying so hard. Harry wanted to run over, unceremoniously knock him to the ground, and comfort her. "You're supposed to be here to support me!"

"Well you know death kind of freaks me out, babe. I'm trying to support our future. I've been here all day."

Her tone was so biting, he truly couldn't believe it. "You've been here for an hour."

Harry winced and shook his head. No one liked death. Everyone was freaked out by it to some degree. But he was supposed to love her; be there for her.

"If you leave, we're done," Harry felt intrusive for listening in but he couldn't move.

"You don't mean that."

"I do, mean that. I really, really, really, really mean that," she sniffed. Good girl. Harry thought. "I have put up with your bullshit like this for way too long and you're unsupportive and if you leave this is it," she assured him. "Work cannot be more important than me."

"It's important for us, babe. So when we get married--"

"And when will that be?" She shouted.

"For the love of God, we're going to do this now?"

"It's been three years. I'm thirty and wanted kids and you are just..." she trailed off. "Fine. Go. We're done anyway."

"Babe, you don't mean that--"

"I will pack my stuff up when I get home."

"And where are you going to go? You don't have a job right now--"

"BECAUSE I WAS TAKING CARE OF MY DYING MOTHER."

Why was she even with this guy? Harry couldn't fathom it. It was so unlike her to date someone so crass and careless. Or maybe Harry was just filled with rage and envy of a man that couldn't help her the way she deserved.

"Well..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I have a plane to catch. Maybe after you've calmed down and aren't grieving we can have a more pleasant conversation."

A silent moment passed between them. Surely he heard it as he said it. It couldn't have been just her and Harry that heard what he implied. "Do... do you... do you think I'm supposed to be done grieving?" She hissed.

He sighed, mumbled something about calling her when he landed, and walked away. He didn't even notice Harry pressed to the building.

Harry watched him get in his car and pull away as if this wasn't the worst day of her life. Harry took several deep breaths to calm himself. This wasn't about him or how he wanted to strangle him. This was about her, her grief.

She was leaning against the wall. She was heaving, sobbing into one hand. For what, at that point, Harry didn't know. He could only see her from behind, the same figure he could have picked out in a lineup and if he was blind. But she seemed smaller. Withdrawn of course. Her free arm wrapped around her stomach like she was trying to hold herself together.

"Hey beautiful," he murmured softly. She sniveled, spun around. Harry was met with her face grief stricken, heartbroken, and tear soaked. But yeah, she was still as beautiful as he remembered. "Aw, kitten," he cooed gently. "C'mon s'cold outside. Let's get you--"

She threw herself against him as he approached. Her arms around his neck and she continued her sobbing against his shoulder. Sighing, he wrapped his arms wrapped around her waist and back, she fit effortlessly into his embrace even after eight or so years since he last saw her. It felt natural to hold her like this. "I know," he murmured comfortingly. "I know, kitten," he kissed the side of her head, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down her spine.

"Please don't let go of me," she cried. "I can't--"

"Shh," he hushed. "M'here. M'not letting go until you do," he promised softly. He hoped she wouldn't pull away because he wanted to take care of her the way that asshole couldn't. It didn't matter what the past was it only mattered that her sweet self could find some sort of contentment.

"Please don't leave me," she begged. "I can't do this alone."

It felt like a switch changed in him. Or maybe it was the anger he felt for her ex-boyfriend. Or perhaps a combination of missing her when he didn't really know he had been missing her and all the frustration he felt for the reasons she was so distraught. He would do anything for her. "No way, beautiful. M'not going anywhere," he assured her pressing his lips instinctively to the top of her hair. Patiently he listened to her cries, held her tightly, and lightly brought a hand to the side of her neck. He carefully pressed his fingertips against her skin, hoping that if she was aching (which he assumed every part of her was) it relieved the smallest bit of tension.

"How much did you hear?" She sniveled pulling away enough to glance into his eyes. Her face was blotchy and red, she was sure. Harry looked like he just left his modeling job for ties and cologne. She wanted to look more beautiful--so it would have at least made sense that Harry had ever decided to date her--even if it was years ago. But she was so overwhelmed with sadness, she couldn't feel anything but that and not even her horrendous look could deter her long enough to utter more than a quick apology for snotting all over him. "M'sorry. I look--"

"Shh," he hushed immediately. Harry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket--Mum was always insistent he have one when he wore a suit. Someone is always crying when you need to wear a suit and it's not to work. Carefully, he dabbed under her eyes, and swiped the fabric across her delicate cheeks. "You look beautiful," he assured her a kind, small smile made his lips curl up just enough to get the dimple in his cheek to appear. The one she had told him she was going to stick her tongue in back when they laid on a mattress that was too small for two people and resulted in a giggling tickle fight between two people who were much too old for tickle fights.

What he would have given to make her laugh now.

Harry kept one arm around her waist taking over her own job to hold herself together. "How much did you hear?" She repeated.

He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Too much, probably."

She frowned; if she could muster an emotion other than sadness and grief, she probably would have been embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry. I was waiting inside, but then your uncle said y'were out here and I wanted t'see you and--"

"Do you need to leave?" She asked quickly. "I'm sorry I'm holding--"

"Kitten," he said gently pinching her chin between his fingers so she had no choice but to look in his eyes and process what he was saying. "M'staying here until y'tell me t'leave."

She sighed. For the first time in what felt like months she felt relief. "Okay."

*

She dragged him alongside her to the front of the receiving line. Harry felt slightly embarrassed and out of place but the rest of her family paid no attention to it. Like he was supposed to be there. She hugged and cried a lot over the next two hours. Harry handed her tissues and water.

“What if I don’t tell you to leave?” She whispered. Harry was standing so close to her that no one else could hear. Like it was just the two of them. She was sipping from a water bottle and Harry was stroking her hair back with his fingers while wiping below her eyes with a tissue.

“Then I’ll never go," his voice was quiet, like hers. He kissed her forehead softly.

"You don't have to obviously, you have no obligation... but is there any chance you were planning to be here tomorrow?" She asked.

He nodded hurriedly. "Course, kitten," he smiled gently, almost sad that she thought he wouldn't. "Niall's going t'come too. He's really sorry he couldn't make it tonight," he explained. "I have a hotel room right nearby so I can stay s'long as y'need me. Do anything y'need, too. And Niall m'sure would be happy t'help if y'need anything requiring two people, as well."

"Really?" A fresh well of tears filled her eyes and Harry's grin grew even if it was sad she was so surprised.

"Of course, beautiful. We... we want t'be here for you," he assured her.

She pressed her face against his shoulder again and sniveled against him. "I owe you a new suit," she mumbled into the fabric.

"Shh..." he hushed. "M'here," he promised. "Don't worry 'bout anything else."

*

His hotel room was dark when they entered. Harry didn’t want anything to happen that could be misconstrued due to her grief but she seemed adamant and sure that she wanted to spend the night. Harry was planning to sleep on the floor but instead they chatted way too much. Much later than a girl who had her mum’s funeral the following morning should have chatted. She giggled the way Harry loved and smiled despite how sad she was. Harry told her all about the last eight years, his job, his mum, their old friends and everything in between.

When he looked at the clock, his phone said it was well past one in the morning and she needed to be up early. “Think y’need t’sleep, kitten,” he was lying beside her, fully clothed except he lost the tie. He was brushing her hair away from her face watching her eyes droop.

“Mom didn’t like him,” she whispered. “She didn’t like anyone that wasn’t you,” she told him.

Harry swallowed nervously. Not because he was worried about her sentiment but because her grief was fresh and the tire tracks of where her stupid ex peeled out of the parking lot were still warm. Her mind had to be jumbled and as much as he wanted to kiss her and make promises, it wasn’t the time. Harry was older and more mature now. The way he wasn’t but wished he had been when they broke up. “After that performance, beautiful,” he sighed with a shake of his head. “M’surprised she didn’t poison him.”

“He didn’t even like her oatmeal raisin and white chocolate chip cookies,” she grumbled bitterly.

“Kitten,” he tutted. “How could you let that continue?” He joked, nudging her playfully.

She turned on her side, their faces inches apart on the same pillow. “Thank you for being here for me,” she whispered.

“There’s no where else I want t’be, beautiful,” he promised.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed you. It’s sad this is what it took.”

He leaned forward, pressed his lips to her forehead and let the kiss linger there. “Do y’want me t’sleep on the floor?”

“No,” she shook her head. “This is the first night I’ve felt tired in months. You have to stay here if you want me to sleep through the night.”

“If you’re sure,” he reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off. He didn’t want to change into different clothes or anything. He just wanted to be there for her.

“This is also your hotel room that I invited myself into," she reminded him.

He grinned at her in the dark. “You’ve always had an open invitation, t’me, kitten,” he brought her closer toward him, kissing the top of her head.

There would be about a thousand and one things to discuss after the funeral. But right then it was late, and they needed to sleep because the day was going to bring more exhaustion and sadness that was inevitable. “Did you mean it?” She whispered quietly after Harry thought she had fallen asleep.

“Mean what, beautiful?” He murmured.

“You’ll never go?”

He nodded. “Mmm,” he hummed inhaling the scent of her shampoo. “I meant it,” his words were slurred with sleep and she knew it because she had heard it in his voice hundreds of times in their time together. He was on the brink of dreaming and her mind was reeling.

“Mom wanted us to get back together,” she whispered. “For ages. She had our graduation picture on the fridge,” she explained. “When I was taking care of her these last few months and he was useless, she kept mentioning you. Told me it wasn’t too late to start over. I guess... I guess this was one way she thought she could bring us back together.”

There was no response because Harry had fallen asleep, and she was close behind. She brought the hand that held his to her lips and kissed his fingers inhaling the comforting smell of him as she finally felt like sleep.

“Your mum was the best,” he mumbled. “She brought you into this world, just for me t’find you.”

The words were lost in her mind, her throat, and her aching heart. But she liked to believe that Harry knew already because he was there, and he wasn’t planning on leaving again.

“We can start over, beautiful. M’not going anywhere,” he whispered one more time as sleep overtook her tired mind.

--

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@angeldavis777

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[fleurn1igh1]

Be my only love ❝𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧❞

T.W:- Language {?}, use of chloroform Note:- forgive me for any errors 😓, they are unintentional Synopsis:- "Be my only love, will you do that for me?"

Anger is an ugly emotion and feeling the unbinding rage is even worse, you stood at the door of the bedroom where your boyfriend hurriedly put on his clothes in shame of being caught, you wanted to say so many things but all that could come in your mouth is a choked sob as you walked out the door, crushing the bouquet you had just brought for him, hearing your name faintly called from behind the same velvety voice that once used to make you fill with joy, you didn't stop at the calls because you knew there will be nothing but pathetic excuse to tell.

For the next few weeks, he sent you flowers, gifts as an form of apology, but you threw them trash but one day, Louis came himself with a sheepish smile and eyes full of regrets "you really have no shame, do you?" you said with cold eyes "Y/n I just wanna apologize, I can explain--" "We are over, Louis, just accept it" you cut him off firmly "Please, I love you" his eyes very telling the pain he's been through ever since he lost you "Don't make me laugh" you scoffed in disbelief "I'm being honest, I was a fool, please forgive me" "Fuck off" you said closing the door on his face, Alas Louis wouldn't give up he clenched the bouquet in his hands and left the place feeling defeated but he knows just the way to keep you all to himself.

It was Midnight of Friday, the moon was casting a soft, silver glow on a quiet street. as a black silhouette brushed past the street to get to certain somebody's house, lucky for the figure they know just the way to get inside that house, creeping inside the figure walked up stairs to went inside the bedroom, a grin flashed across the figures face as they removed their hood and used the napkin to put on your nose, the scent of chloroform filled up your nostril as you woken up to a force firmly pressing the napkin against your face, you looked at the person and noticed the same black eyes with brown messy hair, Louis.

"I'm sorry, darling but you left me no choice" all your struggles went in vain as everything went black but before you were fully unconscious you heard his voice saying "Be my only love, will you do that for me?"

[starkeyisthelastname]

hello lily…. i just had a thought…… about dealer!rafe and me on my birthday his girl celebrating her bday 💖💖……. i cannot stop thinking about him

hi baby! 💖 you better get ready because this man is ready to spoil you even more than already he does and take you to pound town 😜.. hope you like it sweet angel and have the best birthday!!! @oceandriveab

The morning of your birthday, you get awoken by his head between your thighs. His tongue deep in your wet hole and nose hitting your clit just right. He would look up at you just as your sleepy eyes met his, a smirk on his handsome face as he pulled back. “Happy birthday mama.” His voice raspy, watching you bite your lower lip as he then dived back down into your ocean of a pussy.

It was when you walked outside, as he was going to take you shopping that you saw your dream car wrapped perfectly in a pink bow. Rafe did most of the driving, but when he was taking care of “business”, you occasionally needed to go somewhere and what better way now with the brand new luxury vehicle that cost him a pretty penny. Not that he worried how much it cost, he paid for it in cash. (Dirty money at that. 😅). You would open the door, the passenger seat holding a giant bouquet of flowers, along with neatly wrapped boxes that read Dior, Chanel, Cartier, Louis Vuitton and stacks of cash wrapped in silky ribbon. You always wondered how much money this man really made, but never questioned it as you enjoyed the princess treatment too much.

He would then take you shopping, letting you have a pamper day before a beautiful private dinner on the waters of the Outer Banks. He needed you blissfully happy and tummy full before we gave you a brutal birthday fuck.

You may have been drunk off expensive liquor, but you felt every thick and long inch of your man’s cock as he slid it in your soaked little hole. He made sure your knees were bent back, giving you that deep shit all while talking dirty to his birthday girl.

“Shit… that’s it my pretty fuckin birthday princess. Got that pussy soaked for daddy, huh?” Rafe drawled out, tone low and cocky as he watched his massive pipe stretch your fluttering hole out.

“Daddy…” You whined, your pretty eyes rolling back as he hit your sweet spot over and over. He was already about to give you your first orgasm of the night and you knew there were many more to come. “I.. slow down..” You gasped, the feeling almost too much as you reached out how to tap his toned stomach. It wasn’t that you wanted him to stop, but you were about to explode and embarrassed how quickly it was coming on.

“Move your hand and take this fuckin big dick. You know I’m not done with you yet, we are just getting started.” Rafe said between breaths, your plea following on deaf ears as he continued the hard thrusts to your sloppy cunt. “Giving my girl the birthday dick she deserves, yeah?”

He was about to give you round after round, making your birthday end with your pussy sore and the sheets soaked. A new car in the driveway, diamonds, designer bags, fed expensive food, and getting a dick one dreamed of having.

[cece693]

Could you an Interview with a vampire Lestat x fem reader Louis sister. She’s been sick for most of her life but the last illness that took out the rest of their family got to her. Louis tries to ease his sister’s pain while burying his own but it’s hard to. Lestat turns Louis and is curious about what he keeps in the east wing of the mansion. He sees a sleeping beauty and senses death is also watching. The reader wakes and tries to sit up to be polite/ introduce themselves, since they’ve heard from the servants her brother has brought a guest home, but Lestat turns on the charm and tells them to save their strength. Oh Louis it’s not nice to keep secrets🌹

Sleeping Beauty (Lestat de Lioncourt x GN! Reader)

tags: female reader, open-ended, Lestat being himself, dying reader, no specific Lestat in mind

The air in the east wing of the mansion was heavy with the scent of wilting flowers and fading life. Louis moved quietly, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet, the candle in his hand casting flickering shadows along the walls. He took a deep breath before he opened the door to his sister's room.

She lay on her bed like a fragile porcelain doll, the fever having stolen much of her vitality, leaving only the faintest bloom of life on her pale cheeks. She had always been delicate, sickly since childhood, but this last illness, the one that had claimed the rest of their family, had nearly taken her, too. Louis's heart ached every time he looked at her—his only remaining kin. He clutched her cold hand in his, feeling the fragility of her bones beneath her thin skin.

"Louis." she murmured weakly, her eyes fluttering open. Her voice was barely above a whisper, each breath seeming to cost her more than she had to give. "You've brought someone home, haven't you? I’ve heard the servants talking."

“Yes.” he whispered back, forcing a small, reassuring smile to his lips. “A…guest.”

Outside the room, Lestat had been observing. The subtle hints, the secrecy of the servants, the hushed tones of Louis—all had piqued his curiosity. Louis had been a deliciously melancholic creature, so careful to keep certain doors closed. But this—this was different. The east wing had been carefully avoided, like some forbidden garden Louis did not want him to tread.

Lestat pushed open the door without knocking, his presence a sharp contrast to the soft light and gentle atmosphere of the room. The air seemed to grow colder, and even the dying flickers of candlelight trembled at his arrival.

He tilted his head, his eyes sweeping over the frail figure on the bed. She was a delicate creature, her beauty untouched by the disease that sapped her life away, and yet she was fading. Lestat could almost see Death standing in the corner, an unseen visitor waiting patiently.

Louis turned sharply, his body tense, shielding his sister from Lestat’s gaze. “Leave.” he said, his voice low and strained, like a thread about to snap. But Lestat’s eyes were fixed on her. She was a curiosity, a fragile mortal soul teetering on the brink. And, like a cat with a cornered mouse, Lestat found himself intrigued.

The girl, sensing the tension, tried to push herself up, her limbs weak but her spirit evidently polite. “I’m sorry.” she began, her voice barely a breath. “I didn’t mean to not greet you properly.”

Lestat’s face softened into a smile, a beautiful yet predatory expression that seemed to steal the very air from the room. He moved closer, kneeling beside her bed with a grace that bordered on theatrical. “No need for such formalities, ma chère.” he murmured, his eyes catching hers, his tone dripping with dangerous warmth. “Save your strength. You’ll need it.”

He turned his gaze back to Louis, his smile widening with wicked delight. “Oh, Louis. It isn’t nice to keep secrets from me. Especially not such...charming ones.”

Louis’s jaw tightened, his hand trembling slightly as he held his sister’s. “This is none of your concern.”

“Oh, but it is.” His tone was softer now, meant only for their ears.“Because I can smell it—the scent of death lingering so closely here. You’ve kept her hidden away, like sleeping beauty, waiting for a fate you could neither prevent nor accept.”

Lestat’s gaze flickered to the girl, who was watching them both with a calmness that only came from years of suffering. She wasn’t afraid—no, there was something else in her eyes, a quiet acceptance, a resignation to the life she had been given.

“However, I’ll give her the same option I’ve given you.”

Louis felt a surge of panic rise within him, the very idea of his sister becoming like him—cursed with eternal life, forever tied to the darkness—was almost too much to bear. “Lestat, no.” he breathed, his voice trembling. “She doesn’t deserve this. She’s suffered enough.”

But Lestat wasn’t looking at Louis anymore. His attention was fully on the girl, his smile softening, though his eyes held the gleam of someone who saw a rare, precious opportunity. “What do you say, ma chère? Would you like to be free of this suffering? To escape the clutches of death and live beyond the reach of time?”

The room held a stillness that seemed almost alive, each second stretching longer than the last. Lestat watched her intently, his smile never wavering, yet his eyes glimmered with a secret that she couldn’t quite grasp. She was weak, teetering on the edge of life and death, and his words—his promises of a life beyond this one—were both enchanting and terrifying.

“Brother…what does he mean?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What is he offering me?”

Louis's lips parted, but no sound came out. He didn’t know how to explain it, how to tell her the truth about what he had become—what Lestat was. His mind raced with a thousand thoughts, each more painful than the last. He didn’t want to frighten her, but he also didn’t want her to be lured by Lestat’s honeyed words into a fate she didn’t understand.

Lestat chuckled softly, the sound almost musical. “Oh, Louis, do you see how you torture her with your silence? Your brother is worried, ma chère, but he should not be. What I offer is freedom—from pain, from weakness, from death itself.”

Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of fear crossing her face. “You speak as if…as if you’re some kind of…” She trailed off, uncertain how to finish the thought. “What are you?”

Lestat’s smile widened, his fangs glinting ever so subtly in the dim light. “Ah, now you’re asking the right questions. We are something different. Something eternal. And I am offering you the chance to join us.”

Louis stepped forward, his voice breaking with desperation. “Please, don’t listen to him. You don’t know what he means. You don’t know the cost of his offer.”

She looked between them, her breath shallow, but eyes determined. "I don't want to die, brother."

Louis's face fell, his expression a mix of despair and helplessness. His grip on her hand tightened, his desperation clear in the way his fingers trembled against her skin. “I know.” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “I know you don’t want to die. But what he’s offering…it’s not life.”

She could feel his fear radiating from him, could see the torment in his eyes, but her own fear of death—a slow, creeping end she had felt drawing closer every day—was stronger. She had lived with the shadow of death her entire life, felt its cold breath on her neck as she lay in bed, too weak to move. She was tired of it. Tired of waiting for the inevitable.

She felt tears well up in her eyes, her heart torn between the brother she loved and the lure of a life free from suffering. She could see the anguish in Louis’s face, the way his soul seemed to cry out in protest. But she could also see the hope, the promise of something more in Lestat’s gaze.

“I want to live.”

Lestat’s smile widened, his expression one of pure, almost childlike delight. “Oh, you will, ma chère. You will.”

[the-witch-and-her-husbands]

Omega���s Day

‘Are we going to wake up your Papa? Yes we are!’ Lestat cooed to his fourteen-month old son, Lestat de Pointe du Lac-de Lioncourt, first of his name. One of the maids was following behind with a tray laden with a breakfast feast. Lestat was also holding a giant bouquet of flowers, trying not to let their son smush them. Louis was still asleep, or pretending to be.

A similar scene was taking place in Daniel’s household. He was creeping into their bedroom with a breakfast tray and a small vase of flowers. His mate was pregnant with their first child, a son. He was so proud that he had to mark the occasion for his omega.

Jil sat staring miserably out the window, curled up in a small ball. Omega’s Day, where omega everywhere would be celebrated by their Alpha for giving them offspring. She knew the reasons they didn’t have any, and yet she still felt sad. Left out. And Hannibal had risen and kissed her and gone off early somewhere. Band business, he had said. She sighed, trying not to cry and failing.

@doctorwillseeyou

[elicypher]

a place to belong — william j. moriarty x wife!reader

tags: fluff, family dynamics, comfort and care, short drabble

author: for rose from the ask here. i always love her little ideas lol, they're so cute. also, this is kinda funny because i had the freakiest rap playing in the bg while i wrote this 😭

"this will be your room for the next few days," william stated, pushing open a door to reveal a spacious chamber, warmly lit and outfitted with four small beds, each with a thick quilt. "make yourselves comfortable."

he turned to look at the children—a ragtag bunch, clothes tattered, face smudged with dirt and eyes wide with awe and cautiousness all at once. they limped as they stepped inside, blood slowly dousing the bandages they had just been treated with before coming here.

the eldest kid, perhaps twelve, stepped forward cautiously—taking a protective stance of the three kids behind. the kid audibly gulped, hesitation clear on her face before finally speaking. "...why are you helping us?"

william's gaze softened just slightly. "because i can."

before he could elaborate, a voice called from behind. "william? i thought i heard you come in—" you appeared at the doorway, clothed in your nightdress. your face swept over the scene, the wounded children clustered together, scared and looking like cornered animals, and softened. "and who are these little ones?"

"they've had a rough time," william smiled warmly at you, his expression becoming gentle upon seeing you. "i thought it would be best if they stay here while they recover."

"alright then." you said, nodding your head. you approached them slowly, before crouching to their level. "i'm (name). you'll be safe here, i promise." a pause, and then: "have you eaten?"

the youngest, a boy about six, shook his head. the others followed suit. "well," you got off your knees. "that won't do. let's see about getting you all fed. how does stew sound? louis has only made fresh bread today, too."

the children exchanged hesitant glances, but when the youngest nodded, the others followed—guarded faces easing a little.

over the next few days, your warmth had gradually brought them out of their shells. during the day, you led them through the gardens, and they all seemed impressed by flowers and herbs. even fred looked happy teaching them the names of the flora growing there. the children shared their meals with you, and at night—you read to them before they fell asleep.

the younger two children followed you like shadows while the older ones began to pepper you with questions about the manor and it's mysterious rooms that they weren't allowed in. they really thought of you as a mother figure—one time, the youngest one had even accidentally let the word slip, calling you 'mom'.

it was the younger girl who asked one evening, after supper. "can we see mr. william's study, mrs. (name)?"

the other children perked up at the idea, their curiosity plain and present on their faces. you paused, pretending to consider.

"his study?" you whispered, feigning shock. "hmmm, i'm not sure. that's where he keeps all his most serious and boring things. are you sure you children are ready for such a place?"

the young boy tugged on your sleeve—giving you the biggest puppy eyes. "...please, mrs. (name)?"

you had to bite the inside of your cheek to hide the grin that was creeping it's way up your face. you sighed theatrically. "alright, but you all must be very quiet. agreed?"

the study was dim and imposing, it's walls lined with shelves brimming with books, maps and strange instruments. the children tiptoed their way in, eyes wide as saucers.

"wow! look at this!" one of the girls whispered, pointing to a celestial globe on the desk. another flipped through a book of intricate mathematical diagrams, while the remaining two crowded around a large map pinned to one of the walls.

you moved among them, explaining what you knew. you picked up an item, pretending to use it—which made the children giggle. their innocent laughter rang softly through the room.

unbeknownst to them, william stood just outside the door—leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. he watched quietly, a faint and warm smile playing on his lips.

"mrs. (name)," one of the children curiously inquired, pointing at an item on the low shelf. "what's this thing?"

before you could answer, william cleared his throat. "that," he explained as he stepped inside of the room. "is an astrolabe."

the children flinched, caught in the act. they face him slowly, the youngest muttering a little "oops." you shrug your shoulders, speaking smoothly. "we were just.... admiring your collection."

"is that so?" william asked, raising an eyebrow but his tone was mild. he walked to his desk and picked up the celestial globe. "If you're going to explore, you might as well learn something."

he set the globe on the table and motioned for them to gather around. the children hesitated at first, but eventually crowded close as william began to explain the constellations. his voice was calm and patient and he seemed to take genuine satisfaction in their wide-eyed fascination, unable to stifle his soft laughs at the children's amused "ooh"s and "ah"s.

you leaned against one of the bookshelves, watching the scene unfold in front of you. warmly smiling your husband guide their little hands over the globe—it was an endearing sight.

[filthyslashertoad]

Slasher First Date Headcannons

Oh yeah guys, guess who’s adding more characters! ME!!!! So…introducing…PETER STRAHM AND… MARK HOFFMAN!!!! (air horn noises)

Also just to be clear I’m writing for lestat and Louis from the movie NOT THE TV SHOW(It’s just not that good imo)

Peter Strahm

Is a hopeless romantic that 100% believes in love at first sight.

Talks way too much and gets very passionate when sharing his own interests.

Is the type to bring you multiple different flowers because he wasn't sure what you'd like.

Prefers first dates to be at restaurants or cafes.

Mark Hoffman

Is an asshole to you the first time he meets you because he thinks that it counts as flirting?

Quickly becomes absolutely enamored by you and wants to know everything about you.

The day after he definitely finds you walking down the street and blares his sirens to get your attention and say some cheesy pickup line to ask you out on another date.

Michael Myers

The closest you're gonna get to a first date with him is him showing up at your house and eating all of your food while staring at you from a nearby hallway.

Don't expect a first date kiss, but do expect a sentimental staring contest before he leaves.

Amanda Young

Your first date was probably being in a jigsaw trap she either made for you or both of you being in the same trap. (She doesn't have much of a social life)

Quickly becomes attached to you and goes out of her way to make you survive the trap.

Bo Sinclair

Hits on you when you pass through the town and invites you to have a picnic on his lunch break(Which consists of beer, crackers, a few blueberries, beer, and hotdogs)

Tells you all about mechanic stuff and some of the prettier parts of the town.

After lunch, he invites you to go out with him if you're passing through(fixes your car for free).

Vincent Sinclair

Teaches you how to make candles and mini wax figurines. (It's harder than it looks)

Makes a tiny doll version of you and him and gives them to you.

Not much talking happens during the date(obviously) but he makes up for it with hand gestures.

Patrick Bateman

Hears one of his buddies talking about you and how beautiful you are and automatically decides he needs you to be his girlfriend.

Pulls out the nines, I'm talking Dior suit, Givenchy shoes, and he even buys new hair gel before your date so he looks as fresh as possible.

Will most likely talk almost the entire date about his accomplishments while using business jargon.

Lestat(Interview with a Vampire)

Most likely had the intention of seducing you to suck your blood but realized that you had more to you than what seemed.

Invites you to go to the opera with him and Louis but ends up taking you to a much more secluded section of the opera house.

Wants to turn you into a vampire on the first date(I don't even know what base that reaches)

Louis(Interview with a Vampire)

Isn't much of a romantic(anymore) so it's more so a deep conversation shared between the two of you in a beautiful garden.

Asks you what it's like to be human and what you admire about life.

Gives you a bouquet of his favorite roses as a surprise.

Michael Emerson

Wants to really really impress you so he takes you to a bunch of places that are "hidden" and brings a bunch of snacks. (Doesn't mind also going to see a movie)

Definitely tries to kiss you on the first date.

After your date Sam teases him all night about his crush on you.

[1dcommunityficrecs]

Rec List: New Authors!

Welcome to 2025! And as we say goodbye to 2024, this list is taking a moment to shout out new authors who ventured into 1D fic this year -- welcome aboard. It's truly amazing to me that 15 years since the band was formed, and 9 years since they as a group put out new music or performed together, new people are still joining the fold -- or dipping their toes into writing and posting fic, after hanging out in other spaces for a time. I'm sure plenty of people are joining via the solo music, but it still warms my heart to see this community that has meant so much to me continuing to grow and flourish. New fans are just as valid as old fans, and are absolutely essential for a healthy fandom ecosystem.

So with that said, here are 9 fics from people who started posting for the 1D fandom in 2024. And some of these writers have been incredibly prolific -- two of the fics listed are over 100k, and one of the authors has sixteen 1D fics already! Here's hoping we see more from them in 2025 and beyond -- please join me in giving them a warm welcome to the community!

Notorious by violetlilachyacinth (64021, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: period-typical homophobia, implied/referenced rape/non-con

1946. WWII has just ended, but there's still work to be done. To help bring Nazis to justice, U.S. government agent Harry Styles receives a new assignment: recruit Louis Tomlinson, the American son of a convicted German war criminal, as a spy. Neither knows the full extent of the task they're asked to complete nor the full impact they will have upon each other. The stakes are quite high.

Reccer says: This fic blew me away! It's an adaptation of a film, and I can imagine how much work the author did to make it their own. Harry and Louis' connection leapt off the page. And no spoilers, but I loved the ending.

freaky friday by tracksuitponytail (1700, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post Warnings: dubious consent due to body swap

It’s Friday the 13th—a day like any other for Louis until he wakes up in the middle of the night... in his best friend's body.

Reccer says: SO well written! I enjoyed it so much, and it really cheered me up on Thanksgiving

Coffee and Confessions by Vyshv (676, General, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles)

A cozy coffee shop in New York City, with the warm aroma of roasted beans and the soft hum of chatter, two lost friends find each other.

Reccer says: This fic so so soft and lovely! I love the feelings it evoked

Hazelnut by BlackRose_Lilly28 (100, Not Rated, None)

Another drabble based on a twitter prompt. This time: "Hazelnut."

Reccer says: Fun to read, and very sweet!

here for the thrill by worldsofdreamers (3357, Explicit, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik)

niall wore a cowboy hat and he was just saving a horse

Reccer says: we needed a fic of niall in his lil cowboy hat and this fic DELIVERS. always love fics from this author. they’re very good writer and they are a good go to if you’re in need of a ziall fic.

All in the Golden Afternoon by leighllbealright (126028, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

When Louis Tomlinson needed to find a new preschool for his daughter, he wasn't expecting the one across the street to be everything he and Goldie ever needed. Or: the one where Louis is closed off, Harry is the weirdest person ever, and Gemma may as well be a psychic. Somehow, calico-cat-style, they forge a beautiful family from pieces that don't quite fit.

Reccer says: This series is one of my top 10 from 2024. Brilliant characters, gorgeous writing, Harry’s sweaty elbow-pits, everyone is a flower, naked treehouses and more.

Whole Lot of History by Blue_Green28 (73592, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

With 3 children coming out of their twelve years long marriage Harry and Louis are essential parts of each other's lives even though they have moved on with new partners since their divorce ten years ago. Or have they?

Reccer says: Exes to Lovers, Miscommunication, mpreg

everything of mine is yours by blueskiesrry (33000, Explicit, Harry Styles/ Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

With Harry in New York finishing up his PhD and Louis in London working as a solicitor, they try to navigate their eight year situationship including almost-daily phone calls, the occasional indulgence of casual phone sex, and endless gossip sessions as the feelings they have for each other get harder to ignore.

Reccer says: The scene where Louis reads a Lincoln biography out loud to H in the bath? Swoonworthy!

The Handbasket Diaries by Hazel_tea_dreams (160326, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

London’s expensive and work’s a grind but everything is a little better when you have good mates who understand you. The narrow brick flat building in Brixton, home to Louis, Liam, and Zayn and affectionately referred to as The Handbasket, is more than a place to catch winks and reheat leftovers. When Harry stumbles into its midst (and Louis' lap) with flatmate Niall in tow on a particularly hot Pride weekend, none of the five of them will be fully prepared for the shenanigans, tomfoolery, true friendship, or steamy romance that will unfold over the year.

Reccer says: This was so fucking lovely. I binged it in two days—only put it down to scream about it on Bluesky (and sleep and like, essential stuff). The writing is witty and tender and, apparently, communication kink is my jam. This is the only fic (in recent memory) that I finished and then wanted to restart immediately.

[mcsstydia]

Hate you - Louis Tomlinson

prompt: your best friend's boyfriend's best friend is Louis Tomlinson. Sounds complicated, is not. Louis may be a superstar, but to you, he was just super annoying. You hate him, and he hates you. Right?

pairing: Louis x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

word count: 2.2k

Masterlist

Another evening you had to spend with him. Louis Tomlinson. One of the world's brightest shining stars. Admired by many, loved by more. Loathed, by you.

Louis was David's best friend. And David was Madelyn's boyfriend. And Madelyn, well, she was your best friend. Madelyn was your best friend ever since 5th grade. Your paths had somehow drifted after high school because you started going to different universities, but you always stayed as much in touch as you possibly could.

Madelyn was your ride or die, no one was as important to you as she was. You would die for her. You would kill for her, even. What you really had trouble doing for her though, was spend time with Louis Tomlinson.

A month or so after Madelyn and David started dating, they wanted to introduce each other to their best friends. And what better way to do that than by simply inviting them together to a nice restaurant ? So, you went to the restaurant. Excited to really get to know David, and open to meeting whoever his best friend was.

Turns out, his best friend was star Louis Tomlinson. But that was, of course, not the problem. The problem was that he was a huge jock. He took one look at you as you walked in, and somehow decided you were not worthy enough of his conversation. He didn't speak to you the whole night. Sometimes, you found him staring at you in a weird, relentless way, but that was it as far as conversation went.

So, ever since, you couldn't stand him. But, of course, for special occasions, you had to endure his presence. Such a special occasion was today, approximately one and a half years after meeting Louis for the first time. It was Madelyn's 27th birthday, and you, as well as Louis, were going to attend her party.

''He doesn't hate you, I swear!'', Madelyn promised, a drink in hand and almost screaming as to the loud music blaring through her apartment. You rolled your eyes at her repeated statement. You hadn't believed it a year ago, and you sure as hell wouldn't believe it now. ''Mad, I promise you, it's whatever. I don't have to talk to him tonight.'', you replied, trying to sound as if the fact that he hadn't showed up yet didn't make you nervous.

You hated him, and he hated you, and you knew he would have a strong opinion about your appearance, so that's why you were nervous. Not because of him, not because of the way your body did whatever it wanted when you saw him.

As if on cue, Louis came in through the doorway into the stuffed living room you were in right now. You took a sharp breath and held it for an unusually long time. The world stopped, and spun at the same time somehow. All the noise in the room seemed to seep away although minutes ago you had to yell to be able to hear your own voice. When he scanned the room, and your eyes locked with his, was when you were finally able to breath out and look away

Your heart started pounding rapidly in your chest, and you told yourself it was because you loathed him so much. What else could be the reason, really? He's here. Okay. It's okay. You didn't have to talk to him. You didn't even have to look at him if you didn't want to.

Your gaze returned to Madelyn, and you realized you hadn't listened to a word she was saying. ''Sorry,'' you grinned sheepishly. Madelyn scanned the room to look at whereabouts of your distraction. It didn't take her long to spot him. Somehow, everyone in every room seemed to turn towards him, always. He was the sun, somehow, and all the flowers in the world turned to him to get some warmth.

''Oh,'' Madelyn said, turning back to you. ''He's here,'', she continued, eying you to assess your reaction. You willed you body to not give anything away, to not give away the hurricane of thought streams rushing through your head.

You tried to sound nonchalant. ''Yeah, I know.'', you replied. You were annoyed. Annoyed by his arrogance, annoyed by the fact that you had to see him the whole evening, as if thinking about him wasn't torture enough. You glanced at the freshly mixed drink in your hand and before Madelyn could stop you, drowned it in one sip.

Your face scrunched up at the sour and strong taste of the alcohol that just wakened up all of your taste buds. Madelyn looked at you wide-eyed, and concerned. ''Eh..'', she started, but you raised a gentle hand to silence her. You shook your head to let her know that any tries of a lecture were unnecessary.

Only half an hour later, your vision was blurry and you were sure the room was spinning just the slightest bit. You were on your way to the bathroom, another drink in hand and stumbling only slightly over your own feet.

''Bit drunk there love?'', an all too familiar voice rang in your ear. You rolled your eyes before you could even turn to look at him. You leaned against the occupied bathroom door and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

''What do you want, Louis?'', you asked, annoyance lacing your voice. His eyes traced your whole body, then he took a sip of the drink in his hand. ''Just looking out for ya'', he replied, winking. You were just about to tell him to go get lost when the bathroom door you were leaning against was opened from the inside.

For a split second, you thought your body would hit the cold tile floor of the bathroom. However, you were grabbed by two strong arms that prevented your body from losing its balance. Louis' grip was strong, but gentle, as he pulled your body a little too close to his own.

Your eyes met his and for a moment, neither of your breathed. His gaze dropped down to your lips for a fraction of a second, but you were sure it happened. What was going on here? He was supposed to hate you, and now he was looking at your lips? He must be even drunker than you were.

Louis cleared his throat and slowly let go of his grip on your body. Your eyes followed his hands as he traced ever so slightly over the skin of your arms. Your drinks must have dropped to the floor during the last few seconds. When, you couldn't tell.

''I'll....'', you started, and then turned towards the now empty bathroom. ''I'll go.'', you simply said, wanting to escape whatever situation had just occurred. You were just about to close the door when Louis appeared in the doorway, and squeezed past you into the bathroom. A bewildered look adorned your face as you turned towards him, trying to decipher what his plan of action was.

''Uhm, I was here first.'', you stated stupidly after closing and locking the door behind you. ''Just makin' sure you don't fall again.'', he countered and grinned. For what seemed like the hundredth time that evening, you rolled your eyes at him.

''Get out, will ya?'', you demanded. ''You locked the door.'' You groaned at his reply, the anger and annoyance in you rising. ''What the hell is your problem with me?'', you couldn't take it anymore, you just had to confront him. And, you know... you were drunk, so there's that.

Louis raised one of his eyebrows at you in confusion. ''My problem?'', he asked, you nodded in reply. Your hands were once again crossed in front of your chest, your frame leaning against a washing machine behind you. ''I have a problem with you?'', he inquired further. ''Uh-uh'', you nodded. ''I don't have a problem with you.'', he stated, leaning against the sink and mimicking your posture, although it seemed mocking.

''Don't mess with me, Louis. You couldn't stand me since the first time we met, and ever since, you're just fucking with me. Always dropping comments, always getting on my nerves.'', you brought out. Both of Louis' eyebrows now shot up. ''I'm getting on your nerves?'' ''God, can't you do anything except answer with a question?'', you huffed out irritated.

Louis took a step towards you, the grin never leaving his lips. ''Then why were you looking at me the whole night?'', he leaned in closely as he whispered this question, pure amusement in his eyes. You gulped. ''Because I wanted to stay as far away from you as possible.'', you replied. Which wasn't a lie, technically.

''How's that work out for ya?'', he grinned. ''I mean it, Louis.'', you found your voice, but it felt unsteady. You were too drunk to have this conversation, and at the same time not nearly drunk enough. ''You hate me.'', you stated, and you saw something change in his gaze. ''But why?'', you started sounding desperate for an answer at this point, but you couldn't stop yourself. ''Am I not pretty enough? Not interesting enough? Not dull enough to be able to fuck me and then throw me away afterwards? What have I done that's so bad that you wouldn't even talk to me?'' You let your insecurities get the better of you at this point, but you couldn't care less.

The grin was wiped from his lips, and his eyes no longer held amusement, but disappointment, sadness even. He let his arms drop to his sides, but yours stayed firmly wrapped around yourself. You were scared you would start trembling otherwise. ''You really think that?''. he asked, voice low, hesitant.

''What else am I supposed to think, hm? It's been a year since we've met and you never made the effort to get to know me, talk to me even.'', you answered. ''I didn't know how,'', he replied, voice even quieter. ''What?'', you said.

The gaze that had previously been fixed to the floor finally found yours again, making you nervous. ''I found your absolutely fascinating when we first met.'', he said, and it was all you could do to not let your jaw drop to the floor. ''But you're so educated, so smart, so well-read. I was afraid you'd find me dull.'', he continued, the thoughts racing in your head.

''I thought maybe it was just a quick feeling that would pass over time, but it didn't. I don't know why but you've been in my mind every day since we met, and it's really fucking annoying,'', he laughed, brushing a hand through his hair, not able to look at you. ''And after a while, I just figured you didn't like me, so it was easier to blame it on you.'', he said, now finally looking into your eyes again.

So many things were whirling in your brain, but you couldn't suppress a small smile forming on his lips. ''Superstar Louis Tomlinson doesn't know how to talk to a simple girl?'', you teased. He turned away, embarrassed, but you caught his wrist and tugged at it, pulling him towards you.

His yes dropped to your hand touching his, before he looked into your eyes again. The blue of his eyes was even more mesmerizing when you got to see it this close. You were building up all of your courage now, and as he hesitantly interlinked your fingers, you found just what you needed.

''I was instantly into you,'', you started, and your word choice made him chuckle. ''I was just so sure I'd never have a chance. And then you wouldn't even talk to me, so I thought I was right.'', you explained.

''Well, this must come as a big surprise to you,'', he began, and he slowly raised his other hand and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ''But you're not always right.'', he whispered. A laugh escaped your mouth. ''You might be onto something,'', you grinned. His hand gently found its place on your cheek. For a second, you froze, but you looked into his eyes and saw it was okay to let this happen.

You slightly leaned into the warmth of his touch, all the while never breaking the comfort of his eyes locking with yours. ''Not to rush anything, but can I kiss you, darlin'?'', he asked, your heart skipping a beat at this question. You chuckled. ''Do you always ask that?'', you replied.

''No,'', he said, sounding certain and serious. ''Only you.'' You looked up at him and saw certainty in his eyes. Certainty about you, about wanting this, about everything he previously said. ''Yes, please.'', you whispered.

He slowly leaned into you until his lips finally touched yours. One hand was still cupping your cheek, the other released yours to softly grab your waist, pulling you closer into him. You willed your body to obey and tried your hardest not to sigh into the kiss.

His lips were soft, and he tasted of alcohol and cigarettes. Your lips moved perfectly against each other, and you wanted more, grabbing his shirt and pulled him impossibly closer.

A loud knock on the door interrupted you and pulled you back into reality. ''Oy, you fuckin' in there?'' a loud voice echoed through the door. Louis and you both laughed, before he placed another gentle peck on your lips. ''Do you wanna leave?'', he asked, his thumb stroking your cheek.

You arched an eyebrow at his question. ''No, I mean-'' he stammered, trying to explain himself. ''I know what you mean,'', you assured him, kissing him again. ''And I would love to.'', you grinned.

[daisyblog]

Suspect Challenge

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN and Louis do the TikTok ‘Suspect Challenge’.

YN begins the video by recording Louis jogging lightly down the enclosed garden on their grandparents house.

“Suspect claims to be 5ft 9 but is really 5ft 7!”.

YN bursts into laughter behind the camera as Louis gives her an unimpressed look, as he pretends to be hurt by the teasing.

“You’re fookin’ rude!”. Louis’ run comes to a halt as he points towards his sister, waiting for her to stop laughing.

Louis now ran alongside YN as she ran down the path, looking ahead waiting for her brother to speak.

“Suspect only dates her brothers friends!”.

YN gave Louis a frown as she turned to face him, ready to correct him. “Fook off Lou…it was one friend and it’s been like thirteen years!”.

“Still me best mate though!”. Louis shrugged his shoulders as he bumped into his sister playfully.

“Suspect likes to act tough, but really he’s a big softie!”.

“Hey…that’s suppose to be a secret!”. Louis childishly stamped his foot as he and YN shared a laugh over his sarcasm.

“Oops!”.

“Suspect claims to like other singers but really only listens to One Direction!”.

YN holds her hands up in surrender. “Oh waw! What a fookin’ crime”.

“Such a fan girl!”.

“Suspect forgets the words to his own songs!”.

“Ohh give me a fookin’ break will you? How many songs do I have? Can’t remember every single one of them”. Louis chuckled loudly at his sister’s attempt of calling him out on the many times he’s forgotten the words when singing.

YN couldn’t stop herself from adding to the comment. “But your fans can remember every word to every song and album!”.

“Fook off smart ass!”.

“Suspect is obsessed with her husband!”.

“Hell fookin’ yeah I am…have you seen him…absolutely-”. YN’s face lit up with happiness as she thought about Harry.

Louis interrupted knowing YN wouldn’t stop once she started. “Yeah yeah we get it!”.

“Suspect only knows how to cook one meal!”.

“You’re jealous of me amazing cooking skills”. Louis lovingly pointed at YN. “Have you seen me chopping up a cucumber…absolute chef!”.

YN rolled her eyes at his words. “Master chef eat your heart out!”.

Tag List:

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[allywthsr]

Christmas shopping | (l.norris)

summary: you and Lando go Christmas shopping

wordcount: 1.1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: spending a lot of money

notes: tell me your thoughts!!

advent calendar

”Lando, come on, you’re so slow.“

You were Christmas presents shopping with your boyfriend, Lando.

Due to you both living in Monaco, you were currently roaming around shops like Louis Vuitton or Dior. It was harder to get presents than you thought. The cold air was slapping against your skin, whenever you were walking from store to store.

Today were Lando’s parents, his siblings, his sister-in-law, his nieces, and your family on the agenda. Obviously, you weren’t going to get Mila and Athena something from the expensive stores, for that you wanted to drive to Nice and see if you could find something, as well as for the others if you didn’t find anything here.

Lando’s sister Cis and you talked over the phone yesterday and she told you that she wanted this Louis Vuitton scarf for a while, but it was too expensive for her to buy it on her own, so you called Oliver this morning and asked if they would be down to pay for the rest, that Lando and you wouldn’t cover. He gladly agreed and now you were looking through the different kinds of scarfs there were.

”Do you think she‘d want a rose or a beige-colored one?“

”I would choose a beige one, fits better with the rest of the clothes.“

You nodded and called for an employee, to help you. Quickly you had bought the beige one, Lando and you agreed to cover four hundred pounds and the rest four hundred pounds would pay Oliver and Savannah.

On your way out you looked at the different bags, you slowed down and tugged on Lando’s hand.

”Look at that one!“

”Y/N, we’re not here for you.“

”But they’re beautiful.“

Before you could say another word, he dragged you out of the Louis Vuitton, too scared you would feed your handbag addiction. ”Flo talked about this necklace, it’s like silver with a horseshoe pendant.“

”Where do we get that?“

”Tiffany & co?“

With intertwined hands, you made your way to the next store, Tiffany. Immediately someone came up and offered you a champagne, but you declined and went to an employee, wanting to see all the different necklaces. Different colors, silver, gold, or rose gold were shown to you, but in the end, you decided to go with silver, like Flo wanted. The necklace cost two-hundred pounds, but Lando held his credit card against the machine, and it didn’t hurt him one bit. He earned enough money to spend a bit more on Christmas.

Again, Lando had to drag you out, because he knew how you loved looking at (and buying) jewelry.

”What are thinking for your parents?“

”I have absolutely no clue, they have everything they need and if they’re missing something, they buy it. Do you have an idea baby?“

”Not really, maybe like a small trip to Monaco? And we can rent a boat for the whole family for a day or something?“

”I like the idea, mum always likes quality time more than material things, we should invite your parents and the rest of your family as well, then we have a present for them too.“

”Uh yes, I like that.“

He grabbed your hand and put it in his pocket, you’re always cold, he knew that.

His parents and yours were checked off that list, now for Oliver and Savannah. Savannah was a simple girl, she was happy if you would give her a bouquet of flowers, but you weren’t going to do that. Oliver was more difficult, sure he would be happy over something small too, but he had everything he needed.

”What about a spa day for Savannah? I would sacrifice myself and go with her.“

”And of what do you need to relax from? I get Sav needing some time off from being a mum, but you?“

”I need time off from being your girlfriend?“

He looked at you, with a shocked look on his face, but he knew you were joking.

”I‘m kidding, I‘m kidding.“

You put one of your hands on his cheek and pressed your lips against his, for a quick kiss, but Lando being Lando, he tried to deepen it, holding your head with his hand. You tried to wiggle out his grip, ”Baby, we’re in public“, you knew Lando didn’t really care, he wanted to be a normal boy that had a girlfriend, and that’s how he sometimes acted.

With a groan, he let go of you, and pulled you to the next store.

”Alright, Sav gets a spa day and for my brother, I thought I‘d get him a bracelet and one of my helmets.“

”Your helmet?“

”Yes, he always says how he wants to have my podium helmets because they’re beautiful.“

”But then, what do I gift him?“

”We can share the bracelet.“

You hummed and looked around in the different jewelry store, Lando had pulled you in. After looking at a few, you decided to go for a brown one with silver details.

”We only have the kids and the dogs left.“

”The dogs? Are you serious, Y/N?“

”Of course! They can’t get nothing.“

Lando only shook his head with a smile and kissed your cheek.

”Should we go to Nice? The toy store is supposed to be beautiful there.“

”Sure, let’s go.“

You two sat in his car and Lando drove you to Nice, he parked the car safely on the parking spots and you two went inside. You tightly held Lando’s hand, or else he would’ve been in the car section already, swooning over the different cars. He was a little boy at heart.

”Mila likes dolls nowadays, should we get her one?“

”Yes baby, I talked to Sav about it and they got her this specific one, so I know what to buy“, with that you pulled him to the dolls.

With a scan, you looked at all the different girls and found one with a dog, it had a leash and everything.

”Lando, please. It has a little dog!“, the pout on your face was big and Lando could just laugh at you.

Quickly he grabbed it and put it in the basket, now you two only had to get something for Athena, she was still a baby, so it wasn’t that hard. You got a toy, that played different music and would light up when you pressed different buttons, she would love it. Next to the toy store, was a small pet store, you couldn’t resist buying a toy for each dog, they needed to get presents too.

When you returned to your shared flat, in the evening, you looked at all the different bags. You love shopping for Christmas presents, no matter how stressful it is.