#LET FRANNIE BE A MUM

[survivinglifesstruggles]

Michaela Stirling being Francesca’s anchor in the storm of her grief, and the two of them raising baby John Jr (FIGHT ME) together because of COURSE Michaela would help raise her beloved cousins child with her beloved and just being that small little family together.

[look-i-love-u]

Gallacrafts - Theme 29 - Freckles

Welcome to the second part of "let's stretch this theme to its limits" - @gallacrafts edition. This actually is a sequel to this post and crafts here.

There's only one thing that Mickey hates more than Ian refusing to put out in the morning - and that's when his second favorite Gallagher is unhappy.

And this time she's really unhappy. She hasn't talked to Mickey in two days. And she usually calls him each night to at least tell him good night and which shit her mum got up during the day. Mickey often ends up telling her a bedtime story but whatever.

Anyway... Frannie is pissed. At him. And Mickey hates it. He bribes Debbie with Sweet Susan's to tell him what the fuck is going on.

Frannie is jealous. Because Freddie got a monkey and she didn't. And she IS Uncle Ian's "Monkey"! So she's doubly offended.

Mickey knows he has to get active when she calls fucking Lip "my favorite Uncle" in front of him and gives him the side-eye.

Well, played, Little Red. Well played.

Mickey starts his next crocheting project that very evening. Another monkey. For Frannie. He knows her well and so the skirt is detachable. For the days she doesn't feel like wearing a dress.

Frannie loves it. She names the monkey "Freckles" because that's what Uncle Mickey calls her. He's her favorite again (he always was - but ssshhh!).

Freckles ends up being a mafia boss or undercover weapons dealer during their playtime. They're just that awesome.

[dollypopup]

Colin Bridgerton learns early in his life not to be too loud. Too open. Learns not to give all of himself to anything, putting on a perpetual pretense. To be cheerful. Charming. Agreeable. It makes him feel useful. It makes him feel in control.

His papa dies when he is twelve. Colin is still shorter than Daphne. She laughs at him when they play games together because she can reach the taller branches on the tree. He skinned his knee last week trying to run after the family dog, Tippet, or Tippy, as he liked to call her, when she ran off with Frannie's doll. His papa dies when he is 12 and as it happened, all he could think was that Papa would get back up, soon, as he watches him laying there among the flowers, Mum in shambles and the whole family on the steps. Colin learns. He learns no one has the space for his grief in light of their own, and Anthony is the new head of the family, and Benedict is trying to take care of the siblings, and what good is Colin?

Colin can't do anything. Colin can't do anything but try to make it lighter, better, easier. Try to be useful any way he can.

So, he comes to his mum, cradled away in her dark room, the curtains perpetually closed, pale and wane and laying on the bed, always, her palms feeling at the linen on the left side that she refuses to have changed. Because he thinks he can be useful. He thinks he can be good. Make her smile. And he loves her. And he misses her. In confinement, several months pregnant, when she lays on her side, she still cannot adjust to the feeling of a flat bedspread, back perpetually turned to the door. She doesn't want to see anyone. Almost can't even bear to. But Colin sneaks in. Colin sneaks in with biscuits he foists from the kitchens, and paper flowers (like the kind she taught him to make for all those birthday hats, fingers quick and nimble, some of the only time he is ever allowed to favor his left), and flowers he picks from the gardens of Aubrey Hall. He sneaks in, calling a hesitant

Mum?

into the dust, and maybe it's only because he will be gone, soon, off to Eton, that she tolerates it. The time he has left with mum is short so yes, Colin comes into the mausoleum. As often as he can. As often as he is capable of. And he tries to make mum happy. But he can't. He can't make it better for her. He brings her treats and he holds her hand and he tends the tomb. Changes out the funeral flowers when they rot, the way the maids are never allowed to, tucks mama into bed as she blinks glassy, swallows, then turns away.

In his boyhood, he has one final, awful cry with her. The last sobs of his childhood to his mum. Comes in to try to cheer her up again, to bring levity, but today is a bad day, he feels it near instantly. There are always bad days. They aren't always, but there always will be. Mum's voice rings out, soft and disbelieving

he's gone

he's gone

he's gone

over and over as Colin eventually realizes all he can do is hug her. hug her and listen as she cries

he'll never see you grow up

my darling

my boy

he'll never see you get married

never see who you'll become

wringing dry. and Colin has never felt more tiny. He can't hold all that emotional overflow even though he tries. He hugs her and he tries. Tries not to let it get to his heart, all that she's saying. Tries to hold her together. Tries to make it better. If not better, painless. If not painless, not alone. But he just lost his father. and he's small, and he's scared and he'll be leaving, soon, everything familiar to him, all his family. Eton, so, so soon.

Last week, all he wanted was for dad to finally take him out on a hunt, like he did with Anthony and Benedict. Every time it was a

One day, when you're older.

There would never be a one day. Last week, he was betting dad on how many ducklings would hatch from the nest, eager to win from him extra candies, which dad would always give him, anyway. Somehow, the sugar was always the more sweet when he won it from Papa. Never again. Papa won't ever see the man he'd become, and he didn't even know what that would look like. He tries to keep it in, he does, but he breaks at each whisper Mum can't help but spill, trying to assure her until his voice goes crackly and thick and his snuffles snot at the shoulder of her dirty housecoat when he wipes his face and then

he's wailing. Just a boy crying to his mum because he needs her, but it only makes Violet feel worse, cry worse, hurt worse, because she can't be needed. Not now. Can't provide him any comfort, and Colin knows. he feels it. after that moment, he knows. he knows it's agony for his mum to see him upset and he knows she can't help him. he knows she can't handle it and he knows he feels awful asking her to. so, when he leaves the room, completely wiped out, he promises himself he'll never put her through it again. and he sticks to it. because Colin's already lost his dad, he just can't bear to lose what he has left of his mum, too.

So, Colin learns to be cheerful. Is cheerful, up until the day he goes, off to learn about Greek Mythology and Abstract Mathematics, studying philosophy and religion and boxing and learning how to be a man from strangers.

but of course it aches. Colin cries alone. Curled fetal in bed in the secrecy behind a locked door. No one wants his sorrow. Or his anger. He's scrappy as a boy, angry at Eton. His father didn't go here. Nor his brothers, off at Oxford. A distinguished school for distinguished men, men of titles, men of power. For Colin, for a third son, Eton was beyond agreeable, beyond generous of his father to have set the funds aside for. And Colin appreciated Eton, yes, but it was also where he learns to lock his fury behind his sternum and even when it claws to be free, he shoves it down until he can wrap his wrists for a spar. Colin learns to hide in plain sight.

Everything, everywhere, everyone: he leaves.

Colin cultivates a talent for leaving. Until it thrums in his blood, bleeds out into the tapestry of his existence. As a boy, he sneaks snails in Benedict's bed and leaves off to hide in the linen closet from his fury. He waves goodbye to Daphne on the steps, his younger sister already looking so much older and heavier and faraway, leaning on Eloise as his carriage rolls off. His papa dies and he leaves. Each year, Eton, he leaves and finds Mama a shade more vibrant than last time. The world moves on away from him, aside from him, outside of him. Marina breaks his heart and he leaves. Lady Whistledown break his heart and he leaves. and each time he is Back, he is also in the background.

when he returns after his second tour, this time, it's Penelope who's changed. Penelope who looks at him differently. Penelope like he has never seen her. and he feels so much a stranger as he always did each time he left, but never felt with her, before. in a way, their closeness had been his sanctuary. steadfast. like a heartbeat. like a drum. when it falters, when she avoids him, and when she breaks his heart unknowing she could, and when he finds out she's Lady Whistledown, he leaves. and he hides. and he keeps it in secret.

keeps it poorly. because his mum is a smart woman and even though he's tried not to let her see it, somewhere in her, she can always know when her boy is in pain. he's of her blood, her body, a fragment of her soul. and when she comes to him, this time, when she recognizes this heartbreak and he can no longer keep it in, for the first time in a decade, Colin breaks open, and he cries to his mum

and he starts to unlearn.

[gimmiesophiebaek]

VBPS (Francesca’s Wedding)

Rated: G Staring: All of the Bridgertons + partners (Daphne and Colin are married)

Party #4: Francesca and John’s Wedding (2018)

Francesca woke up to the soft, muted light filtering through the curtains of Daphne’s childhood room, a comforting space filled with memories. Today was her wedding day, and the thought sent a rush of excitement through her. In just a few hours, she would be married to John and returning to Scotland, where they had quietly built a life together over the past few months.

Reaching for her phone on the nightstand, Francesca sent a quick text to John, smiling as she typed, Happy wedding day, my love. Can’t wait to marry you. She set the phone down and let herself drift into the memory of how they met.

It was at Colin’s wedding several months ago. The reception had been bustling with activity, overwhelming for someone like Francesca, who craved quiet in moments like that. It was John who had noticed her unease and, with a gentle smile, told her to find a calming space to enjoy the celebration. His thoughtfulness was instant comfort. They had spent the rest of the evening talking quietly, away from the crowd, and from that moment, something between them just clicked. The quiet romance that followed had taken them to Scotland, where they fell in love amidst the beautiful landscapes, and now they were here, ready to begin the next chapter of their lives together.

A soft knock on the door brought her back to the present. Gregory, her brother, poked his head in with a broad smile. 

"Morning, bride-to-be," he said, his voice warm with affection.

“Gregory!” Francesca grinned back. “I can’t believe today’s the day. Where’s Mum? I should help with—"

“Mum’s running around with last-minute details, no surprise there.” Gregory held up a hand, cutting her off. “You know how she is. But don't worry, everything’s under control."

Francesca nodded, knowing he was right, but there was still that flutter of nervousness in her chest.

Downstairs, the house was already buzzing with quiet activity. Violet, their mother, was pacing the hallway, giving instructions as Mrs. Wilson moved efficiently, ensuring every detail was in place. They had planned an intimate wedding, but Violet wanted perfection nonetheless.

“Hyacinth, dear, have you heard any updates from everyone?” Violet asked as her youngest daughter came down the stairs.

“Eloise is upstairs helping Frannie,” Hyacinth reported with a grin. “Benedict is… well, ‘busy,’ as usual.”

“And Anthony?” Violet asked, though her tone suggested she was already prepared to be exasperated.

“He’s making sure the roads are clear for the guests, apparently.” Hyacinth laughed. “Said he’s on his way.”

Violet sighed but nodded, grateful for any help at this point. She glanced out the window as the cake and flowers were being set in place by the staff in the foyer, everything coming together just as she envisioned.

Continue on AO3

[stars-of-kyber]

🧠 ( anthony or kate)

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favourite headcanon for them.

That's an excellent one bc I have several headcanons and the moment I saw the ask I couldn't think of one lol

Hum, I think both Kate and Anthony are early risers although their kids are not and Kate manages to convince Anthony to keep getting more dogs once Newton is gone (of old age, obvs)

Anthony and Kate are their grandchildren's safe port and many times one of their kids has to come fetch their own kids from Ant and Kate bc they'll just... refuse to give them back? Also when there's a fight between the kids and grandkids, the grandkids 100% go hide on Kate and Anthony's (I have a half-finished one-shot about this). Anthony also struggles to return niblings if they ask pretty please.

I have this general Bridgerton headcanon that every single one of the eldest Next Gen kids physically takes after their Bridgerton parent. Augie/Amelia looks like Daph, Edmund looks like Ant, Charlie looks like Ben, Agatha looks like Colin, Penelope looks like Eloise, John looks like Frannie, Katie looks like Greg and George looks like Hyacinth. Idk why, I just do.

As I was already talking about kids and Grandkids I have this headcanon that Edmund and Charlotte (who get married within six months of each other) had this competition between them bc both of them want to name their firstborn after their father, especially after Lottie and Alice get pregnant around the same time. Edmund's kid is born three weeks before Charlotte's and she's giddy with joy when she hears it bc it's a girl! And she's sure hers will be a boy, a mother knows these things! So Ned won't be able to name his daughter after Father! Or so she thought

The sight of a very pregnant, very angry Charlotte having to be held back by her mother and husband so she won't hit her biggest brother who, after passing his newborn daughter to his father, just announced, with the biggest shit-eating grin in the world that she would be called Antonia is a scene that will be remembered forever in the Sharma Bridgerton family. Miles loves bringing it up (He didn't enter this fight, he was very happy to name his first daughter Grace after his mum. Mary named her first Lily)

Let's play the Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask!

[silverhallow]

How would a modern Violet act after her daughter reveals their first pregnancy?

I feel like she would send Eloise a pinterest she has been curating since she started dating Phillip. It's plant themed and over the top. Imagine Eloises reaction.

How would she react to Daphne and Hyacinths baby news?

Also, how would a modern Violet react to Franscescas baby reveal? I don't think she would be as cool as she was in WHWW Epologue

So I think she'd probably be quite tearful with them all but I get the feeling that Violet would be quite respectful of her children's privacy and want to let them come to her with ideas and plans.

Daphne would get Violet in full grandma mode, shopping every weekend for the baby and letting Violet doing whatever she wants.

with Eloise I think she's very much a "let me know what you want and when you need me and i'll be there"

Hyacinth would be very much wanting to be centre of attention with the baby so would do everything she can to keep her mum's attention on her and her baby.

with Francesca... i think the tears would have been more because of Frannie's troubles getting pregnant. in the modern AU i think John and Janet would be IVF babies so when she comes and tells Violet that she's finally pregnant and that the IVF has taken and she's expecting... there wouldn't be a dry eye in the house. Violet would take about 3 hours to calm down only to see Frannie stand out and see her pregnant belly and be gone again.

[butt0nzz66]

Literally this!!!!!

After digesting it for awhile I fully under Colin in ep7 but dragging it into ep8 is where I struggle and it feels a bit like they needed to carry on the drama until the last second for the big finish.

This would have been a much more relatable transition of growth back to one another. Or even if after the scene in the study at Frannies wedding he comes to the bed not even in a sexy way but to demonstrate he’s trying to find his way back to her. Then reads the letters before the ball which solidifies it for him and finally seeing her make the speech he rushes too her. (Still salty about he left her hanging on the dance floor and let everyone and their mum talk to her before him).

With all that talk of Penelope finding her voice, after that first night they should’ve had her tell Colin to just sleep in the damn bed or even had Rae hide the sofa. Really the second night of him sleeping on the couch or the morning after is when they should’ve had her take a minute to talk to him about it. That would’ve been the moment to be like “we can’t keep doing this. We’re married, I know I messed up but I need you to at least sleep in the bed and talk to me” and then that’s when he brings up his difficulty reconciling her with whistledown. Then she says she understands he needs time and he eventually agrees that he at least won’t be sleeping on the sofa anymore. That breaks the ice and from then on we see them slowly become more affectionate again. He rereads her letters (with a voiceover) and finds that she actually kept all of his that he sent when she didn’t respond. By the ball they’re already acting as a couple again, then he gives that you’re so powerful speech to her and they fully come back together again which leads to the sex montage (that they apparently cut). I don’t know I just think small changes like that would’ve made the last episode feel and flow better

[pensbridgrton]

Can you please write one about polin “When were you going to tell me that you’re pregnant?”.. I love the prompting and read some of your work. I’m in love

#bridgerton

note: i’ve been avoiding it... but i think it was time for a modern au. so mixing it up.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re pregnant?”

Colin barely looks up at Daphne from his phone from where he sits on the couch. “Who told you?” His arm is around his wife, her hair curled around his fingers. His thumb draws circles on her shoulders too.

It’s hard not to touch Penelope normally, but now that she’s pregnant -

“Eloise!” Daphne throws her hands in the air, almost pacing in front of them both. She’s frustrated and a little hurt, and if Colin’s honest, it’s quite a bit amusing. “You’ve been here for hours, sat through all of dinner and said nothing!”

Penelope rests her head on his shoulder, mostly likely to hide her amusement. Colin sighs and locks his phone, laying it face down on his lap as he rests his chin on his wife’s head. “I was hungry, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” He may bat his eyelashes for good measure.

Daphne’s eyes narrow and he can feel Penelope laughing. “Do you know how hard it’s been for me to keep my mouth shut and let you break the news yourself?”

“Very hard, I suspect.” 

Penelope still vibrates in his arms, and frankly Colin is impressed at her ability to avoid Daphne’s attention. Though, maybe, his sister is choosing to direct her annoyance at him since it’s not like he’s the one actually pregnant.

He can’t help the grin that creeps on his face.

(They’re having a baby. Him. And Penelope. A baby.)

“Why are you smiling?” Daphne points at his face. “Stop that.”

Colin smiles wider. “Want to know something amusing?”

“No.”

“We told Mum first - then Eloise, because she’s Pen’s second favorite Bridgerton - ”

“For the record,” says Penelope, sitting up here and turning in his arms, “Violet is my favorite Bridgerton.”

Colin narrows his eyes briefly before pretending she did not interrupt him. “And Eloise told Marina obviously, and Franny and Benedict and Sophie - who I believe told Anthony and Kate - and Mum, of course, told Gregory and Hyacinth - and well, if Hyacinth knows something - ”

“You told Hyacinth before me!” Daphne almost shouts, clearly angry, and Colin is very, very amused. “So everyone knew before me!”

Colin shrugs. “You didn’t ask.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Daphne says, collapsing beside her husband in the loveseat, Simon calmly reading a book and ignoring all of them, “Gregory is my favorite brother.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

Daphne leans forward, pointedly speaking only to Penelope. “Congratulations.”

Penelope laughs. “Thank you.” She glances up at Colin, who doesn’t bother hiding his very smug, very satisfied grin. Shaking her head, Penelope smiles at her sister-in-law. “And if it helps - you’re the only one we told in person.”

Daphne mumbles something under her breath.

It sounds suspiciously like I’m flattered.

Colin returns to curling Penelope’s hair around his finger, still grinning.

[irishseeeker]

                                                the story of us

summary:  Five times Kate Sheffield and Anthony Bridgeton were just friends and one time they were more.

find chapter 1 here or here 

------

chapter 2:  I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

Anthony Bridgerton’s summer gets significantly better the minute Kate Sheffield steps off the train.

He’d been abroad for the first two weeks of the summer with friends from university, Kate had only come for a few days before she went away with Mary and her sister, and he returned to England to wait out the rest of the summer with his family. He couldn’t stay away for too long, the guilt of leaving his mother and siblings alone would nag at him until he couldn’t focus on anything else. They needed him.

When they hugged on the platform, the familiar, comforting scent of lilies and soap filled his nostrils and he felt this calm feeling seep deep into his bones.

He’d missed her.

When they broke apart, he took her suitcase and he raised an eyebrow at the bouquet of red roses tied up with brown paper and a ribbon.

“Aw, did you get me flowers?” He teased, and she stuck her tongue out at him. He snorted loudly.

“They’re for your mum, dipshit.”

He pulled up her suitcase’s handle, beginning to wheel it and walk with her off the platform. “Charming. What did you get me?”

“Oh, this.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her middle finger, smirking as she waved it at him.

They walked out of the train station and towards his car. It was a quiet station, right in the middle of the countryside. The main station was in the middle of town, which was a twenty minute drive.

He pressed a button on his car keys and the boot automatically opened. He was driving their Range Rover, one of their bigger cars for the country. They always spent the summer at their country home Aubrey Hall in Kent, leaving London for most of the summer.

The countryside used to be his favourite place.

Now, it just reminded him of his father. Every room and the long hallways were plagued with memories. Memories that would only grow older. His father wouldn’t. His father would never be a part of another memory.

“Jesus, did you pack your entire wardrobe in here?” He huffed as he bent down, putting his weight onto his knees as he hauled her suitcase into the boot.

She scoffed. "You brought at least six suitcases to university.”

They climbed into the car, Anthony clicked in his seatbelt. He turned to glance at Kate, who was tying her hair back in a plait. The golden sun shone through the window, lighting up Kate’s face and dotting it with subtle sparkles.

It suddenly became quite hard to breathe.

“Anthony?”

Her timid voice snapped him out of his daze, turning to her. “Yeah?”

Kate was frowning at him, her nose wrinkling like it always did. “You’re staring. Is there something on my face?”

“I wasn’t staring,” He mumbled, turning on the car and avoiding her eyes. “We better get back. Mum will kill me if we’re late for lunch.”

“I hope your mum hasn’t gone to too much trouble,” Kate murmured, fiddling with her hands with a nervous expression on her face. He knew that look, he had seen it a lot over the past two years. She was biting her bottom lip, which was an unwelcome distraction while he was driving. “It’s so nice of her to let me stay.”

He had been with Kate for five minutes and his mind was already drifting there.

It started a few weeks ago.

He had a dream.

It had started out relatively normal. He was laying on his bed, naked, wrapped in a white sheet. He wasn’t alone.

A woman was with him. A naked woman, her long legs covered by the white sheet. He couldn’t tell who she was at first, laying flat on her stomach tucked against his side.

He notices the dark curls first.

Anthony wraps a thick strand around his hand, watching it slowly twirl around his fingers and wrist. He can see the sharp edge of her jawline, the flutter of her long eyelashes and the fullness of her rose tinted lips.

All of her features form a face.

Kate.

Her face is carved into his memory. He can’t stop thinking about the sprinkle of dark freckles across her nose, the slight pink tint to her cheeks and the delicate leanness of her fingers as they stroked his cheek.

It’s like he never truly saw her before and now she’s all he can see.

The dream always ended the same way. Kate slowly moves on top of him, her hands on either side of his face as her body pressed against his, chest against chest. She leans down slowly, their lips inches apart-

He always wakes up the same way-panting and sweating.

At first, he thought it didn’t mean anything. Kate may be the first woman he had a platonic relationship with that he wasn’t related to and having a sexual dream about her didn’t mean anything.

It couldn’t mean anything.

But-

He kept having the same dream.

The woman was always Kate.

It was ruining his life.

It’s not like he had never noticed Kate. He wasn’t blind. She had always been beautiful. Anthony had just never thought of her that way. He had never allowed himself too.

Kate was his best friend. Kate had sat down in the same tutorial as him and quickly began to argue with him and he had been stuck ever since.

He wouldn’t lose her because of his behavior. His track record with women had been treacherous and Anthony knew it was mostly his fault.

Something had died inside of him when his father did and he had accepted that. It wasn’t fair to expect others to as well. He was emotionally unavailable and he wasn’t ready for a relationship. Siena had proven that.

That painful disaster wasn't something he planned to repeat.

He couldn’t fix himself. There was a part of him that would always be broken.

Anthony realized he hadn’t responded to Kate, so he asked her about her trip. He knew most of the details, they had facetimed nearly every day since they had been apart.

Kate had suddenly appeared in his life and she had remained there ever since. It still frightened him, how in two years she had become so vital. Kate had become his anchor. He never intended for her to happen but it was out of his control. Kate had fit into his life in a way no one else had since his father had.

She was the first person in a long time Anthony felt understood him. There had only been one other person who ever could and he had died.

Kate had lost her dad too. It wasn’t a taboo topic between them. They could speak openly about who they had lost and they understood each other.

He didn’t have to be anything for her. He didn’t have to be her emotional support person like he had to for his mother. He didn’t have to be a surrogate father like he did for his siblings. He didn’t have any pressurizing responsibilities like he did in every other part of his life and he didn’t have to put on a false façade that he was fine and everything was fine.

Anthony would do anything for Kate, he just didn’t have to. It was a comforting thought that lifted the heavy weight off his shoulders just a little.

He had survived two years without crossing that line with Kate.

His subconscious had decided to take it upon itself and do it for him. It was as if a switch inside of his brain had flicked and it was all he could think about. Thinking of Kate in that way.

Lately, Kate was all he could think about.

He was convinced his subconscious was playing tricks on him-if something was meant to happen between them, it would have.

It didn’t matter, in the end.

Kate would never see him in that way. Kate had always been hard to read but he had become accustomed to seeing through the cracks in her built up walls and he was certain she would never feel anything for him but friendship.

He could live with that.

He just couldn’t live without her.

“Here we are,” He said, nodding his head towards the house as they pulled up at the two black iron gates guarding the property. He pushed on the break, reaching out the window to type in the key code to open the gates. “Aubrey Hall.”

“Wow,” Kate said, leaning forward towards the dashboard as they drove up the long pebbled driveway towards the house. “It’s beautiful. It’s finally time to meet the Bridgertons.”

Anthony let out a low chuckle, nodding his head. He didn’t doubt for a second Kate knew every little detail he had told her about all of his siblings, he did talk about them a lot. She had met Benedict and Colin a few times when they visited Oxford and had seen Benedict quite a bit once he became a student himself but she had never met his younger siblings or his mother.

He had never brought anyone to Aubrey Hall before.

His mother, of course, appeared at the front door as soon as the car came to a stop. He didn’t doubt she had been waiting at the window, peeking behind their curtains for them to arrive. Violet Bridgerton had been asking a lot of questions about Kate since Anthony had asked if she could come to stay.

His mother didn’t ask questions without insinuations behind them.

Benedict and Colin had found it particularly amusing, taking every opportunity to take the piss out of Anthony. They gleefully egged on their mother’s eagerness of meeting Anthony’s potential girlfriend despite Anthony reminding his family daily Kate was his friend.

Apparently, he talked about Kate a lot. He obviously disagreed, which made Ben and Colin tease him further. What fun things do you have planned for you and Kate when she comes, Anthony? A romantic picnic in the gardens? What would Kate say about that, Anthony? Aw, didn’t you and Kate do that Anthony? Anthony, are you feeling okay? You haven’t talked about Kate in five minutes. The girls had even joined in. Even Frannie, his sworn ally, had teased him a little.

Traitor.

He was adamant he did not talk about Kate that much.

It was a perfectly normal amount.

They got out of the car and Violet walked towards them, ignoring Anthony as she pulled Kate into a hug. “Kate, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you. Please, come in! Anthony, get her bags darling.”

“Miss Bridgerton, it is so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for having me,” Kate said, handing her the bouquet of tulips and a gift bag. “It’s not much, but I hope you like them.”

“Kate, we have heard so much about you.” Violet Bridgerton smiled at her and gasped at the gifts, ignoring Anthony’s glare at her jibe and Benedict’s snort from the doorway. “Oh! You shouldn’t have. Thank you so much. These are gorgeous, I’ll have to get a vase-girls, stop that right now! Excuse me, dear.”

Daphne and Eloise were on their third argument of the day, right on schedule. They quickly shut up and ran away from their scowling mother who was charging towards them.

They all watched Violet in amusement before turning back to each other, and Benedict grinned at Kate and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Katharine.”

“Benedict.” Kate chimed back at him, reaching up to squeeze his cheek. “You’re so grown up.”

Benedict turned to smirk at Anthony, his eyes sparking with amusement. “Anthony has been counting down the days until you arrive. Marking them off that little corgi calendar you gave him, bless his little heart-”

Kate gasped, turning to Anthony delighted. It made something inside of his chest flutter a little. “You’re using the calendar?”

Anthony shrugged, trying to appear unbothered. “It’s practical. The girls liked the pictures.”

“Ben, I hope you’re not taking the piss out of our brother without me.”

Lord give him strength.

Colin, his 18 year old brother who was about to set off travelling on his gap year in a few weeks, strolled into the room. His brown hair was sticking up in all directions and he probably just woke up.

Benedict, smug as ever, turned to smirk at his younger brother. “I was only warming up.”

“Hey, Kate.” Colin grinned easily at her, crossing his arms as he joined them. “Don’t lie, Anthony. The girls liked looking at it for a few minutes. I drew a penis on it one time and you got all moody-”

Anthony narrowed his eyes at his brothers.“I will murder you, you know that right?”

Kate glanced between the three brothers, looking highly amused. “This is going to be fun.”

Deciding he had had enough of his brothers for the afternoon and validly cautious of what else was going to come out of their mouths, he gestured towards the staircases. He nudged Kate along. “As delightful as this little catchup is, I’m going to show Kate her room.”

“Can we get you guys anything? A snack? A condom?” Colin called after them, Benedict and his snickering filling the hallway. Kate snorted from beside him, jogging up the steps.

Anthony threw the first thing he could grab, which happened to be one of Hyacinth’s tiny pink uggs. It narrowly avoided his great aunt’s blue clay pot on the hall table as it hit Colin smack on the head.

“I’d ask for one but then you’d actually have to be having some to need them, right Col?” Anthony winked at his brother who was rubbing his head, glaring at Anthony from across the hall. “Hang in there, mate.”

“I have plenty of sex, thank you very-”

“Colin Bridgerton!”

His mother had walked into the hallway just as her third youngest opened his mouth and landed himself right in it. Her jaw dropped open and Anthony took the opportunity, laughing at his squirming brother, to nudge Kate upstairs just as his mother started giving out to Colin.

“They’re idiots,” Anthony said, rolling his eyes as they walked along the first floor’s maroon carpet towards her bedroom. His eyes anxiously flicked towards Kate, hoping they could ignore the awkward mention of condoms.

He was going to kill Colin later.

“Funny idiots,” Kate agreed, smiling at him as her eyes moved around the hallway and the painting and pictures on the walls. All of the siblings were on the first floor, except for Gregory and Hyacinth who were on the second floor with their mother.

“I’ll give you a tour later, let's just drop off your stuff first.” He opened the door to the guest room, that would someday be Gregory’s room-it was right opposite his bedroom. “Here we are. I’m just across the hall.”

“This place is incredible. It’s so beautiful,” Kate said, turning to him with a teasing smile. She dramatically bowed, her long dark hair flipping over her head and back as she stood up. “Lord Bridgerton.”

“Fuck right off,” Anthony said, collapsing on the bed and Kate joined him. The familiar memorizing scent of lilies and soap filled his nostrils. Kate had looked up their families on an ancestry website last year and had found out Anthony was from a long line of nobility and had called him Lord Bridgerton for a solid month.

God, he had missed her.

He turned to her, flexing his biceps as he stretched his stiff arms over his head. “Are you happy to be home?”

She nodded, her chest moving up and down slowly as she relaxed on the bed. “I loved being away, but it’s so nice to be back and to be home. Did you get my postcards?”

The last person he had gotten a postcard from had been his grandmother when he was younger until Kate. She’d sent him a few from around Europe, from Rome to Paris, and he kept them all in the drawer beside his bed. He’d started eagerly checking the postbox everytime post had come once she had started sending them. “I did. They were great. They’re in my room. Otherwise, Gregory or Hyacinth would find them and colour them in. I loved the Amsterdam one.”

“I thought you would. Oh! I got you presents,” Kate said gleefully, pulling neatly wrapped bundles out of her bag as she sat up on the bed and crossed her legs. “They’re not much, but I thought you might like them.”

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” Anthony said, completely stunned as he took the presents Kate eagerly handed him. She looked so excited and it made his stomach flutter uncomfortably.

It wasn’t butterflies. Anthony didn’t get butterflies. It was probably a digestion issue or something.

He unwrapped the first present, grinning at the perfectly neat wrapping. It was so Kate. Each corner was perfectly taped and folded properly. He unwrapped a small shot glass wrapped in bubble wrap.

“A shot glass, of course.”

He let out a low chuckle, “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Sheffield. Thank you, this is brilliant.”

The next present was a big box of foreign sweets and crisps, ones that reminded him of being on holiday. There was a mixture of haribos, chewy sweets from Spain and exotic crisp flavors that you could never get in England.

His mouth watered. He had an extreme sweet tooth and Kate was always pestering him to eat some fruit or vegetables. He’d smugly remind her he’d never had a cavity. “This is amazing. I’ll be hiding these from everyone or they’ll be gone in an hour.”

He unwrapped the next package which was an assortment of jams, of different colours and varieties.

She grinned as she pointed out the different flavors. “I thought you’d like them for when we go back to university. I know how much you love jam, I wouldn’t want you to starve. I got them in Normandy, at a farmer’s market. The pear one is unbelievable.”

Anthony had never been gifted in the kitchen. They’d been lucky to grow up with nannies and cooks, and both his parents had been talented in the kitchen-something that was not passed onto Anthony. Besides meals in the catering hall at university, Anthony had solely survived on toast with butter or jam before Kate took pity on him and started feeding him.

“This is the last and my favourite one.”

The package felt soft and he carefully unwrapped it, curiously pulling the little bag out of the paper. It was a brown leather case with a fine detail of stitching around the edge.

“It’s made out of Italian leather,” Kate explained, gesturing to the case. “It’s a case for your pocket watch, so you don’t break it. It can clip onto anything, so you’ll always have it.”

“Thank you,” He mumbled, looking oddly dazed. He reached into his pocket, slowly pulling out the silver chained pocket watch his father had passed onto him. It didn’t really make sense, having a pocket watch when watches and iPhones existed. It was old fashioned.

The watch had been passed through the Bridgertons for years and his father had loved it. He’d let Anthony play with it when he was younger until he had been given it on his eight birthday. It was one of the last things Anthony had of Edmund Bridgerton before he died.

He opened his mouth to say something, failing to find any words that could explain how grateful he was. The pocket watch slid into the case perfectly. “Kate. This is..this is amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Kate said, smiling softly at him and lightly squeezing his arm. He was staring right into her soft brown eyes, full of warmth and kindness. She knew how much it meant to him and she had thought about him and got him this.

He wasn’t used to people thinking about him like that.

He felt something stirring inside of him, a tight feeling in his chest about to burst as he looked at her. She was looking right at him and he swore he saw her eyes flicker between his eyes and lips. “Kate-”

They both jumped startled as their eye contact broke, the moment fading, when there was a loud knock on the door, followed by a voice. “Anthony? Kate? Lunch is ready.”

They stood up slowly, Anthony sliding the protected pocket watch into his pocket and clipping it to the inside of his pocket’s material and headed to the door.

Benedict had been the one sent to fetch them, Colin was nowhere in sight. “Colin is trying to convince Mum to let him eat lunch. His comment didn’t go down well earlier and he’s apparently corrupting our younger siblings.”

Anthony let out a deep chuckle, turning to Kate with a smirk. “If you want to punish Colin, take away his food. He inhales anything in sight.”

Once they sat down for lunch, Kate was an immediate big hit with the Bridgertons. Hyacinth threw a fit until she was allowed to eat lunch on Anthony’s lap, quite suspicious about his new friend. Kate quickly got into her good graces when she put two carrot sticks in her mouth to look like a walrus, making walrus noises until Hyacinth laughed so hard she spat out some of her juice.

Daphne chats away to Kate about her plans to study architecture in Cambridge after her final year in school, which Anthony had spent the last few weeks helping her prepare for her applications and for her interviews. Daph announced she was pleased there was finally another female in the house to combat the massive levels of testosterone, as Eloise apparently didn’t count (who gives her the finger which their mother quickly scolds her for) and Frannie is always disappearing.

Anthony knows he shouldn’t have favourites. He loves all of his siblings, he really does-but Francesca is his favourite.

His brothers are his best friends, Daph is the person he shares a lot of the same hobbies with-riding, swimming and Eloise is the person he debates and watches documentaries with. At six and three, Gregory and Hyacinth are still babies. It’s different with them, they don’t remember their father. Anthony desperately tried to be that for them. He had to take care of them after their father died and Hyacinth was born a month after and their mother didn’t leave bed for weeks. Anthony is definitely their favourite sibling and it does wonders for his ego.

Francesca, however, is Anthony.

They both aren’t the loud ones-they leave that to Colin and Eloise. They’re not the artistic ones either-Daphne and Benedict were the ones who had art shows and were stars in their school plays.

Anthony is pretty sure Francesca is the only other sibling who will join the family business in the future. He can’t say for sure because Gregory and Hyacinth are so young, but he doesn’t doubt if for a second for Francesca. They read the newspaper most mornings together, they send each other articles and book recommendations when she’s at home and he’s at university. They’re both fiercely competitive and play on any sports team they can.

Frannie is very serious for a twelve year old with an incredible emotional intelligence, something Anthony was always told he was like, except for the emotional intelligence part-he’s been told he’s rather lacking in that area-and he knows she worries about him. Their father’s death had given him a responsibility that he didn’t want her to have. Francesca didn’t agree. She had been nine when he passed. Yet, she had always been at this side-helping with the babies, insisting he ate if he had forgotten and talking to Colin when he acted out in grief and fought against Anthony helping him.

They had all helped each other in their grief but Francesca was the one who saved Anthony from drowning.

They understood each other and Anthony wouldn’t have survived that first year after Edmund’s death without her. Their mother had been recovering from a traumatic birth and was still grieving, he had cancelled his gap year plans to take care of the family before university and was trying to stop them from falling apart.

Whenever she needed time alone, she disappeared in the house, usually to her bedroom, the library or the treehouse. Anthony had always retreated when he needed some time to breathe. Her spots had become Anthony’s spots, whether it was in Kent or in London, and they would sit in silence doing whatever.

Frannie turns to him one morning at breakfast, handing him the finance part of the paper and taking a sip of her orange juice. “I like her.”

“Kate?” The topic of their conversation was cooking pancakes with Eloise and Daphne, the three of them laughing about something. She catches his eye, grinning at him before turning to listen to what Eloise was saying.

“So do you,” Francesca said, as if it was a casual thing to say. “I think you should, you know. It would be nice, to be happy.”

Anthony actually stutters. “I-I am happy.”

Francesca sighs, shaking her head. “Of course you are. You have been since Kate arrived. I wonder why?”

Everyone else joins the table, cutting off their conversation as they hand out the pancakes. Anthony stares at Frannie in bewilderment before turning back to his food. If his internal battle and feelings were that obvious, he needed to work on being more subtle.

That summer is the best Anthony has ever had.

One warm August afternoon, Anthony takes Kate away from the house so he can get her to himself for a bit. He decides to take her horse riding to the nearby stables where they used to take lessons and go riding.

Anthony hadn’t ridden since the summer of his father’s death. They had spent every summer in Kent before their father died and before that, they had lived there until Anthony was five before permanently moving to London. Their father had always loved riding and had taken them out for rides and lessons, but their mother was never that fussed. Anthony had been shocked when his mother announced she wanted to go back to Aubrey Hall this summer, having been so insistent on staying in London for three years straight. He didn’t think she would ever be able to go back, but she seemed to be coping well so far or he just hadn’t seen her break down.

His siblings could just go to the stables if they wanted to go for a ride, but none of them were that fussed except for Daphne. She had always loved riding and she had competed in competitions for years before quitting to focus on school. It wasn’t the same after their father died, he had always been at every single one of her competitions. It had usually been the two of them and their father going out for rides together during the summer.

Anthony and Daphne had gone for daily rides since their arrival in Kent, deciding to continue the tradition they had always loved. Convincing Kate to, on the other hand, was not looking likely.

Kate was biting her bottom lip, looking at the horse in front of her. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll be fine.”

She was still hesitant. “Is there like a pony or something? Something smaller?”

“This is the smallest mare they have. She’s very calm. Eloise rode her last week and she’s never been fond of riding.”

“I don’t trust it,” Kate whispered, stepping closer to Anthony as if she was afraid the horse could hear her.

Anthony let out an amused, slightly frustrated huff. He was trying to be patient, but it was wearing thin. “It’s a horse, Kate.”

Kate turned to glare at him, narrowing her eyes. “Not all of us came out of the womb and onto a saddle, Anthony. Horses are large and intelligent creatures. What if it doesn’t want me to ride it and throws me off?

“Do you trust me?”

Kate sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yes,” She said, begrudgingly.

He extended his hand to her. “I promise you’re not going to fall off. I’m going to walk you around before we go for a ride. She’s a good horse, she won’t throw you off. Just get up and shut up.”

“Wow. You’re so kind. With an attitude like that, it’s a mystery to why you’re single.”

He mimicked her, and she mimicked him back, and they stood there mocking each other for a few minutes until she shoved him into the muck.

He wouldn’t talk to her for ten minutes, covered in dirt, and she nearly wet herself she was laughing so hard, and he eventually joined in.

He eventually helped her onto the horse, a gentle brown mare called Iris. Kate clutched at his hand as he helped her up and the electricity sent jolts down his spine. He walked her around for a bit before leading her for a ride across the fields, which Kate seemed to love.

They trotted for most of it and Kate made him take a picture with her with the blooming fields in the background to send to Mary and Edwina.

He definitely doesn’t send it to himself later and keep it on his phone.

It was one of the best afternoons of his life.

Things tended to be amazing whenever Kate was around.

It was becoming quite the problem, especially whenever she smiled or laughed, causing him to get this uncomfortable, warm feeling in his chest.

Kate even gets up with him in the mornings with the babies when he gave his Mum a break, watching cartoons with Greg and Hyacinth who wake up at illegal hours most mornings.

The rest of his siblings slowly join them, everyone tired and weary as they sit on the couch. The early morning silence slowly begins to fade with the chatter in the room.

“I love this.”

“Mm?” He hums, turning his attention away from the cartoon to look at Kate.

“How noisy it is here. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family so much. It could just get quiet at times, you know? I’ve always wanted a big family.”

“Oh,” says Kate softly, looking down at a sleeping Hyacinth against his chest. “She’s adorable.”

“Yeah,” said Anthony, smiling down at his sister. “Until she’s screaming her lungs out after you turn off Peppa Pig after four hours of watching it.”

Kate chuckled softly, “She's quite the character. She looks like you, you know.”

“You think?” said Anthony, his voice softer.

She nodded, smiling warmly at him. “You’re doing an amazing job, you know that right?”

It wasn’t anything like his father would be doing if he was still here. Anthony had made his peace with the fact he could never be the man his father was. However, hearing it from Kate made it feel like he was doing something right.

“Alright, Greg,” Anthony was kneeling down to his little brother’s height, holding him steady. “I’m going to take these stabilizers off, and you’re going to pedal towards Kate. Just like we practiced on Eloise’s old bike.”

Gregory blinked up at him, eyes wide and terrified. “What if I fall?”

“You get back up,” said Anthony, brushing his thumb over his cheek slowly. “Besides, I’m going to be right beside you. I’d never let you fall.”

After a few tries, a few near falls and some tears, Gregory successfully cycles around the front garden all by himself.

He swung Gregory around, grinning at her laughter as the rest of the Bridgertons clapped.

Kate was smiling at him, and the sun made her face glow, and he knew in that moment he would do anything just to see her smile like that at him for the rest of his life.

They sat around the fire on the patio later that evening, roasting marshmallows on metal rods.

“I’m sorry if this is boring,” said Anthony, biting his lip as he glanced around at his family. “I know it’s not the most exciting summer.”

“Are you kidding?” said Kate, grinning at him as she shifted Hyacinth on her lap. She had refused to sit anywhere else, and Kate didn’t seem to mind at all. Anthony was eternally grateful, as he didn’t have it in him to deal with a Hyacinth Bridgerton tantrum that evening. “This is amazing. Thank you for inviting me.”

She’s smiling at him again and it’s getting very hard to ignore the hammering inside of his chest.

“She fits in well, don’t you think?” Violet Bridgerton says to Anthony in the kitchen, one evening after dinner when they’re both cleaning up. “As if she belongs here.”

“Mum,” Anthony says sternly, in a tone usually reserved for a parent scolding a child, but he knew exactly what she was insinuating. His mother’s favourite hobby was meddling in his love life. “Don’t go there.”

He wouldn’t let himself go there.

He had been internally debating it with himself for a while now, but he always came to the same conclusion. His reputation wasn’t stellar. His relationships never worked out.

He wouldn’t risk losing Kate.

It almost felt normal, her teasing him over a girl-as if the last few years hadn’t happened. As if his father’s death and Anthony’s role in the family hadn’t drastically changed everything. As if his relationship with his mother wasn't broken.

“Where, dearest?” Violet said, smirking at her son before walking back into the dining room.

Anthony sighed, leaning against the counter. He pushed the thoughts spiraling in his head and his recurring dream to the back of his head.

The women in his life were going to kill him.

They get the train to London on a Saturday for their friend Rob’s 21st birthday, and they stay for the night. They spend the day wandering around London, grabbing lunch at Camden market before getting ready at his house.

Kate’s dress is black and clings to her curves in a way that forces Anthony to remember to breathe.

Rob’s parents are divorced and his dad spends a lot of his time abroad, so the party is in his dad’s empty townhouse in Kensington. The party is in full swing by the time they arrive and they’re both drunk and laughing within an hour. They haven’t seen their university friends in a few weeks and when Anna sees them, she screams and jumps into their arms.

They eventually get separated, Anthony plays beer pong with some of Rob’s school friends and Rob, Luke and Ethan from uni. His head is buzzing, he feels slightly dizzy but the party is packed, he’s having a good time and he keeps on drinking.

When he eventually spots Kate, she’s leaning against the wall of the kitchen talking to a tall guy. Anthony doesn’t recognize him and the feeling in his chest isn’t warm or fuzzy.

He can’t help himself. “Who is Kate talking to?”

Rob turns his head around, looking in the direction Anthony nodded. “Oh, that’s David. We’ve played football together a few times in uni. He’s decent.”

Anthony takes a long swig of his beer.

Kate eventually finds him outside with the rest of their friends, Anna beside her as they join the group. It had taken everything in him to not interrupt her conversation with David, or whatever the fuck his name was. Kate was far too good for him. He had distracted himself with a blonde girl called Ella instead, who had left the party over an hour ago.

It didn’t work.

“Hey,” said Kate, yawning softly as she climbed onto his lap, pulling his blanket over herself. Anthony tries to look unaffected, but his heart is hammering inside of his chest. She's all he can smell-lilies and soap. The scent is overwhelming. They were all sitting in camper chairs around a firepit, and they stayed there until 5am before Rob told people they could stay over in any bedroom that they wanted.

He carries a drunk Kate to bed, finding an empty bedroom and laying her carefully on the bed.

He takes off her heels, wipes her makeup carefully off with the wipes she had brought in her bag and he leaves a glass of water beside her bed. “G’night.”

“Where are you going?” Kate asked, frowning slightly as lifted her head off the pillow. She looked so adorable, her eyes half closed as she looked at him.

“I’m going to sleep on the sofa.”

“I’m pretty sure someone is having sex on the sofa. Just sleep here.” Kate mumbled, yanking at his shirt to get him onto the bed.

Anthony hesitated, biting his lip. This was definitely crossing a boundary. The rest of the rooms were taken, the couch was currently in use and he didn’t fancy sleeping on the floor. He also knew he wouldn’t sleep at all, knowing Kate was right beside him.

He convinces himself he’s staying to make sure she’s alright, in case she needs to get sick or needs something. Kate is already asleep by the time he climbs into bed, determined to stick to his side. He’s practically falling over the edge of the bed when he falls asleep.

They wake up in each other’s arms the next morning.

“Do you ever think about the future?” Anthony asks Kate one evening, after a long day of eating food in the living room and having a Friends marathon.

Kate’s lying on her back, attempting to throw popcorn in the air and catch it with her mouth. “My only plans are becoming a solicitor and getting a corgi.”

Anthony snorted. “I don’t get your obsession with those dogs.”

“Insult corgis and see how it works out for you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a threat, Sheffield?”

“No, it’s a warning.”

They’re sitting on opposite ends of the long sofa. She kicks his foot, and he grabs her foot and pulls her towards him. He knows exactly what he’s going to do, and so does she-he ignores her protests.

“Anthony, I swear to god-”

He grabs her easily, leaning over her as he tickles her sides. She’s incredibly ticklish at the age of twenty one-and there’s a loud cough.

Anthony springs off Kate like a cat touching water.

“I just came to see if you guys wanted pizza,” Eloise says slowly, a mixture of amusement and shock plastered on her face. “We’re ordering some for dinner.”

“Pineapple, please.” Kate squeaks, avoiding Eloise’s gaze and instead focusing on the screen.

“Pepperoni,” Anthony says, trying to keep his facial expression impassive as he held his sister’s gaze. Eloise leaves after that, an amused hum leaving her lips before she wandered off.

They stay on opposite sides of the couch for the rest of the night.

They go for a swim in the lake the evening before Kate goes home. The sky looks like cotton candy, the sun setting in the distance and the warm air makes the cold lake bearable.

“Why do we have to swim in the lake when there’s a perfectly good pool?” Kate asked, glancing back at the house and back at the lake. “There’s nothing in it, is there?”

“Adventure, Katherine.” He took off his t-shirt, stepping into the lake before feeling his feet sink lower and eventually lose their grounding. “There isn’t anything. Come on.”

Kate hesitantly follows him in at a snail pace, which forces Anthony to stare at the water instead of her yellow bikini.

“What was that?” She squeaked, splashing the water as she jumped up in the air, feeling something brush against her feet. She grabbed him, launching herself into his arms.

“Don’t be such a baby,” He teased, trying desperately to ignore the fact she fit perfectly into his arms.

Kate always fit.

His hands were wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him. This was breaking every boundary and rule he had put in place, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He could feel her soft skin under his fingertips, drawing patterns against her skin.

He felt her body relax, but she didn’t let go of him. She looked at him, pouting slightly. “I’m not a baby.”

“Kate?”

“Mm?”

Their faces are very close.

He lets out a shaky breath. “I’m glad you came here.”

She blinks at him, nodding her head slowly as a small smile erupts on her lips. “Me too.”

He’s going to kiss her. He’s going to kiss her. There’s no way he can’t kiss her. He has to kiss her. He’s going to ki-

There was a scream, and both of their heads flicked towards the two children running towards them, Colin and Benedict behind them.

They quickly broke apart, Anthony swimming towards the edge of the lake in case Gregory or Hyacinth rushed in. He nodded at his brothers apologetic stares, who clearly hadn’t meant for their younger siblings to disturb Anthony and Kate.

He doesn’t kiss her.

“Thanks for having me.”

“Thanks for coming.”

They’re both standing on the train platform, Kate’s train pulled into the station a minute ago. She’s going back to Somerset for two weeks before university starts, and then they’ll be together again.

He tries not to look as disappointed as he feels.

“I’ll see you in two weeks?”

“Not if I see you first,” She said, grinning at him as she slowly pulled him into a hug. She can never reach his neck, so she wraps her arms around his waist instead and leans her head against his chest.

Anthony holds her tightly. Anthony had needed her here this summer. It had been their first time at Aubrey Hall since their father died. Kate had made it easier. She’d made it fun.

As her train pulls out of the station and a waving Kate through the window disappears, he can’t help the pang of regret he feels as he watches her go.

He can’t help but think of everything he should have said, but didn’t.

He has a bitter taste in his mouth for the rest of the day.

“I think everyone’s going to the pub in an hour. Do you want to go?”

They’re finally back for their final year of university, and they’re busier than ever. Before they know it, the leaves have fallen off the trees and the cool November weather has taken over Oxford. The workload, readings and assignments are piling up and they had spent the evening reviewing each other’s thesis proposals and giving feedback to each other.

Kate looks up from her laptop, typing for a few seconds before shaking her head. “I can’t. I have a meeting.”

Anthony looks up from his laptop, raising an eyebrow. “A meeting?”

Kate takes a deep breath, staring at Anthony with a “If I tell you this, you have to promise you won’t make fun of me.”

That catches Anthony’s full attention, “I promise.”

“It’s our last year here,” Kate begins, closing her laptop and standing up. “I want to make the most of it, get more involved. So, I’ve joined the botanist society.”

Anthony blinks. “The what?”

“It’s a science society, about gardening and plants. I always use to garden with dad. It’s actually really fun and interesting. We just drink and chat and they organize trips to museums and botanical gardens. There’s a trip to the Netherlands later just before Christmas, I’m going to go.”

His face softened. He knew what it was like, avoiding things if they reminded you of someone you lost or clinging to them for dear life. He could take the piss out of her, but he doesn’t. “I think it’s great. I didn’t know we had a botanist society.”

“David told me about it, actually.”

“David?” Anthony asks as if he doesn’t know, but he knew exactly who David was. He can hear his hammering pulse in his ears.

“I met him at Rob’s party. He’s in his final year of biology. He’s nice.” Anthony doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything. He just feels sick. Was David going to be there?

“That reminds me,” Anthony says, swiftly changing the subject before he said something stupid. “I got us tickets to the law ball. We should go together.”

Kate blinks at him through her reflection in the mirror. “Together?”

Anthony shrugs, blushing slightly at his impulsivity. “Everyone else is bringing dates. Anna and Luke are going as friends. We’re both single. Unless you’re bringing someone else?”

Kate shakes her head quickly and Anthony has to stop himself sighing in relief. “No, no. That’s a great idea. I’d love to.”

It was getting extremely difficult to fight his feelings.

Kate looked beautiful.

He can’t stop the words coming out of his mouth and tries to hold in his grin when Kate blushes and rolls her eyes at him.

It’s the night of the Law Ball and their entire friend group is having pre-drinks in the common room before they headed to the college where the ball was being held.

Kate’s wearing a long lavender dress, with a V-neck cut and straps that hang loosely on her shoulders. Her hair is long and wavy down her back and he has to count slowly in his head to stop himself from staring at her.

Anthony didn’t like taking pictures but if they involved wrapping his hand around her waist, pulling her close to him-he’d never complain again taking them for the rest of his life.

Anna insists on getting multiple shots of them together, which takes a few minutes. Anthony swore he saw her wink at him at one point or he was just drunker than he thought.

The ball is brilliant, their entire friend group sits at the same table and he doesn’t remember the last time he laughed so much. They’re all drunk and sloppy, confessing their love for each other and how much they’ll miss each other when they graduate. Anthony spins Kate around the dancefloor and her arms are around his neck, and he wants to stay in that moment forever.

That voice rings in his head.

Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her.

He doesn't kiss her.

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

It was around 4am when they all walked back to their rooms, after a quick stop at McDonalds for some food. Kate had a flight in about five hours and Anthony left their friends to walk her to their room.

Kate’s smile is playful as she hands him back his suit jacket . “Not if I see you first.”

Kate flies to the Netherlands with the botanist society the next morning and Anthony goes home to London. He desperately needed a distraction and his family were the perfect fit. He brought Gregory to football, Hyacinth to swimming and spent the night with all of them while their mother went out with some of her friends.

He couldn’t focus on any of his readings for his lectures.

He couldn't stop thinking about her.

Nothing could distract him from his thoughts. The more he thought about her, the more he realized what an idiot he’d been.

He should have kissed her. He should have kissed at the ball, he should have kissed her in Kent, there were a thousand different times he should have kissed her.

It suddenly clicked. He couldn’t deny it anymore. The final piece of the puzzle.

He was in love with Kate Sheffield.

After the long weekend, he arrived in Oxford after Kate did. He had spent the day having a Sunday roast with his family before driving back to university.

His hands were shaking as he heard of his phone buzz, seeing Kate’s name appearing on his screen.

Kate: i’m back! Where are you?

Anthony: Just parked. Where are you? I’ll come to you

Kate: i’m at the pub! come!

He was going to tell her.

He had to tell her how he felt.

They could make it work.

They had wasted nearly three years not being together.

He didn’t bother going back to his room as he sprinted to their local pub, which was only a five minute walk from their accommodation.

It wasn’t just him. He was sure of it. Right? They had a moment over the summer at Aubrey Hall. There had been so many moments over the years. Kate had always been there for him. They had nearly kissed, they would have kissed if he hadn’t been interrupted. His younger siblings had asked if Kate was coming to visit soon while he went home over the weekend. His family loved her.

He lo-

“Anthony!”

His head flicked around the pub, focusing on the voice that called his name. It belonged to Anna, who was sitting at a table with Rob and Luke. He rushed towards them.

“Hey. Have you seen Kate?”

“She’s busy,” said Anna, the frown on her face evident as she nodded her head towards the bar. Anthony raised a curious eyebrow at her expression before turning around to follow her nod.

Kate was standing with her arms around David, who leans down and kisses her.

He felt something inside of him break.

Kate’s face lights up when she spots him and Anthony manages a smile, ignoring the pain in his chest.

“Anthony!” Kate said, walking towards him with a grin as she wrapped her arms around him to pull him in for a hug. “This is David.”

“I really like him. Please be nice,” Kate whispered in his ear, smiling up at him before taking a step back.

Kate looked so happy.

David grins at Anthony, placing two pints on the table before extending his hand. “Hey mate, nice to meet you.”

He had to remind himself, having Kate was better than not having her at all.

He couldn’t be a dick. He couldn’t push her away.

He swallows the vile taste in his mouth, mustering a smile as he shook his hand. “Hi. Nice to meet you. So, how was the trip?”

He sits there and he listens as they talk about their trip. David is a biologist.

It becomes clear quite quickly David is everything Anthony isn’t.

Anthony hated flowers. Flowers and plants usually meant bees.

“I’ll be right back,” Anthony said, standing up and grabbing his coat as he walked out of the pub. He walks around the side, where there’s no smokers or people chatting. He leans his head against the brick wall and tries to breathe.

He reaches for his phone, sending a text Benedict. He needed his brother. He needs someone. He couldn’t have Kate. His chest was so tight, he was finding is hard to breathe.

“I was wondering where you got off to.”

Anthony’s head snapped up as he saw Kate standing a few inches from him, looking at him curiously. He tries to control his breathing. She looks concerned, walking towards him. “Is everything okay?”

Anthony nodded, trying to relax and he stood up straighter. “Long day with the family. I’m just exhausted.”

He didn’t want to ask, but he did. He had to. “So, how did you two happen?”

The soft smile that breaks out on her face nearly destroys him, but he tries to smile back. “We met at the party, but I didn’t think anything would actually happen. We’ve seen each other at events and meetings for the past few weeks. He’s nice, you know? We have a lot in common. He told me he liked me during the trip and asked me to go to dinner. He bought me flowers. It was sweet.”

Kate had once told Anthony that she was the only person to ever buy her flowers. He had sent them to her every birthday and Christmas since then.

Now he wasn’t.

That was another thing David had taken from him.

“Do you like him?” Kate asked, taking a sip of her glass of water. She looks hesitant as she asks the question and Anthony knows he has to be careful. He doesn’t want to hurt her, none of this is her fault.

He had been wrong about everything.

No. “I suppose. I don’t really know him.”

“Anthony.”

“He seems nice.”

“Why do I bother asking?” Kate teased, taking a sip of her drink. “You don’t like anyone.”

Anthony didn’t miss a beat. “I like you.”

Anthony wanted to bitterly laugh at the irony of it all, but he stopped himself. This wasn’t about him.

Kate rolled her eyes. “I like you too. Seriously, though. It’s important to me that you like him.”

He pretends to look at the group of people ahead of them, just to avoid looking at her. “I want you to be happy. If he makes you happy, that’s all that matters.”

Even if it makes him feel like this.

Kate hesitates, before giving him an affirming nod. “I am.”

He swallows hard. “Good.”

She leans her head against his shoulder, and they stand there in silence. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s just silence.

“We’ll always be friends, right?” Kate breaks it eventually, shaking her head. “God, I sound so childish. I just mean-we’re graduating soon. I know we’re both moving to London. I just-I don’t want us to drift apart.”

Anthony swallows his feelings and shakes his head, smiling playfully at her. “Do you think you can get rid of me, Sheffield?”

“Never, Bridgerton,” She said, laughing at him. It was ridiculous how her smile and laugh made him feel so light and free. He didn’t have the right to feel like that with her. Not like this. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Let's go back inside.”

He can’t sit in there for the next hour and watch them. The thought alone makes him nauseous. “I’m going to head back. I’m shattered and I have some reading to do for the seminar tomorrow.”

Kate looks slightly disappointed, but she musters a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” They walked to the font of the pub and he smiled as she walked in, turning around to shoot him a smile over her shoulder as she walked in.

He watched her through the window, joining the table where their friends sat. He watched David’s arm wrap around her shoulders and Kate’s head fall back as she laughed at something he whispered into her ear.

She looked happy.

It isn’t because of him.

That’s a particularly hard pill to swallow.

[blue--cup]

Well Done Sweetface!

Ian had always tried to look out for Liam.

 

In fact, all of his eldest siblings did. With Liam being the baby of the family it was only natural they all took on more of a parental role with him.

When he was an actual baby, Fiona took the lead. She was the one who fed him his formula at odd hours of the night, took care of him at work when everyone else was at school, got him to an urgent care when he had a fever that just wouldn’t seem to break, and many many other tasks that weren’t, and shouldn’t have been her responsibility. Yes, Monica had been his mother biologically, but Fiona was his mum in every other way that mattered, just like she was to all her siblings in some way or another.

 

Lip always tried to look out for everybody . He, along with Ian, was for decades Fiona’s rock, he took Ian’s beating from Mickey when they were still all kids, he tried his best to not let Carl and Debbie get their hopes up that one time Frank seemingly got sober, and when Fiona went to jail he stepped up for Liam more than he ever had before. Lip cared a lot about his siblings, and he had done things for them most of the eldest brothers at his old college never would have dreamt of.

 

Now though, now things felt different.

 

Now Fiona was gone, finally, and deservedly living her life free from the chains of forced obligation to her family, finally living the life her parents had stolen from her at fourteen. He missed her, they all did, but Ian had meant it when he told her to never look back because for all the times he woke up in the morning craving her eggs, or thought about how every Gallagher blow-out felt just a little bit incomplete without her laughter filling the air, he was happy for her.

 

Now Lip had a kid and a house of his own. Yeah, they still saw him most days, but it wasn’t the same as when Ian was fifteen. For now, if asked to hang out instead of thinking about whatever scheme he had planned to help add to the squirrel fund, or whether or not Fiona would be home from in time to look after the youngest Gallaghers, Lip thought about Tammy and Fred. He still tried to look out for everyone, he still loved his siblings, but his kid came first, and that was okay.

 

Ian’s relationship with Liam had always felt unique to his relationships with the rest of his siblings. With Fiona and Lip he was their little brother, their best friend, their emotional support. Yeah, he’s protected them, cared for them, but he’s not parental towards him in the same way they are slightly towards him. Carl on the other hand is his little brother. He roughhouses with him, takes the piss out of him, let’s him do shit he knows Fiona would at least shoot a disapproving glare at if not prohibit entirely. And with Debbie, that’s his baby sister, even if she hasn’t acted like it in a long-ass while.

 

Liam though? Well, he’s not Ian’s kid , but he’s not fully just his little brother either. When Carl started smoking Ian barely batted an eye because what was he going to do? Tell Carl to stop while his own pack burned a hole in his pocket? Fuck no, but if Liam lit a fag on their way to school Ian knows he wouldn’t think twice before plucking it out of his hand, much in the same way Lip would if it was Freddie, or Debbie if it was Franny.

So while no, Liam wasn’t really Ian’s kid - he’d cringe if Liam ever called him ‘dad’, much like when Fiona used to grimace upon being called ‘mama’ - but he still kind of was in some respects, in a lot of the ways that mattered . Especially now, with things being different, because now Ian was the only eldest sibling left really. Or not left, but still able to give Liam the care he needs.

 

That’s why, Ian guessed, he and Mickey took Liam in.

 

After the house was sold and they got their fair share Ian and Mickey moved into a two-bedroom, middle floor flat, and barely discussed it before asking Liam to come with them. Ian had been so sure Mickey would protest because while he knew his husband loved the Gallaghers as his own taking on a kid barely a year into being newlyweds would’ve thrown anyone. Ian had been pleasantly surprised, however, because the night after the sale was finalised Mickey looked over at him from their bed and casually stated “so Liam’s coming with us, right?”

 

No “do we really have to?” No “can’t he just go to Fiona?” Just a statement of fact, and Ian’s still shocked neither of them chipped a tooth with how hard he kissed Mickey in gratitude and excitement.

 

“Hey, earth to Ian” came Mickey’s voice from his left, jarring him out of his thoughts. He looked over at his husband, who was resting the hand holding his beer on one knee while he waved his other in front of Ian’s face, a goofy smile plastering his own.

 

“Spaced out on me there” Mickey continued, resting the hand he had been waving on the backrest, grazing the back of Ian’s neck.

 

Ian shifted, and threw an easy smile back at Mickey “sorry, just thinking.”

 

“Yeah?” Mickey replied, and rustled the slightly overgrown hair at the back of Ian’s head - he’d have to ask Mick to cut it again soon - “what about?”

 

“Ah just, happy we ended up here, you know,” Ian answered, smiling when he saw Mickey’s teasing expression morph naturally into something softer, more adoring. He breathed a short laugh thinking about how much 15-year-old Ian would have killed to see the image before him, the one he gets to enjoy every single day.

 

“And-” Ian added, cutting himself off to shift closer to Mickey and pull his arm around Ian’s shoulders, “-I’m glad we’re able to give Liam the home he deserves.”

 

At that, Mickey’s smile widened, and turned full-on loving, before he ducked his head shyly. When he looked back up, he mumbled out a “god you’re soft,” before muffling Ian’s giggles with a kiss, humming when Ian’s hand automatically came up to cradle his face.

 

At that moment, the door swung open, and the sound of Liam’s backpack being carelessly dropped to the ground boomed through the small flat. Ian pulled back first and kissed Mickey’s cheek consolingly when he grumbled about it.

 

“Guys, guess what!” Liam called, as he came into view of the couple, a piece of paper with red ink at the top being waved about in his hand.

 

“What’s up buddy?” Mickey asked, hand dropping to Ian’s right shoulder after Ian turned around to face Liam.

 

“I said guess ” Liam retorted, grinning cheekily and pressing the paper to his chest, hiding it from view.

 

“Fuck off, this isn’t one of your pop quizzes, what are you holding?” Mickey complained, his grin undercutting the edge he tried to inject into his voice.

 

“Well,” Liam began, theatrically, dropping onto the couch next to Ian, who tried, unsuccessfully, to pry the apparently extremely important paper from Liam’s arms. “You know that paper I was up all night writing?”

 

“I think the one we spent all night sitting up waiting for you to finish” Ian laughed, throwing an arm around Liam and shaking him playfully.

 

“Please, you and Mickey were asleep on this couch for most of it” Liam shot back, shoving Ian’s thigh in revenge.

 

“Come on, come on, cut to the chase” Mickey groused, looking annoyed but Ian knew he was just as excited to hear what Liam had to say as Liam was to say it.

 

Liam just smiled, an air of self-confidence filling his small body, and silently presented the paper to the anticipating Ian and Mickey.

 

“An A+!” Ian half-shouted, before handing the paper to a stunned Mickey and getting on his feet so he could pick up Liam and spin him around.

 

“Well done Sweetface!” Ian cried out over Liam’s giggles, before stilling and giving him a quick kiss on the nose, causing Liam to scrunch his face up and beam.

 

“Thanks, my teacher said it’s my best yet” Liam bragged, clearly satisfied with himself.

 

“You hear that Mick? Says it’s his best yet” Ian boasts, bouncing Liam once before setting him back down.

 

He turned back to his husband, who was looking at the paper with the biggest look of pride Ian had ever seen. As if he could feel Ian’s eyes gazing down on him he snapped his head up, and announced “I think this deserves a spot on the fridge.”

 

“Fuck yes it does!” Ian agreed and turned back to Liam as Mickey hurried to the kitchen to hang it up, “I also think this deserves ice cream.”

 

“Fuck yeah!” Liam exclaimed, almost jumping into Ian’s arms for a tight hug. Ian squeezed back just as tight, ruffling his hair as he did.

 

When they parted Liam smirked and asked “do you guys really need to act like this every time I get a good grade? The fridge door is looking pretty full.”

 

“Well then we’ll get a bigger fridge,” Mickey said, coming back into the room and grabbing his keys from a bowl on the coffee table.

 

“And besides, I don’t see you complaining” Ian pointed out, pushing Liam gently towards the door. Liam wasn’t wrong, it was getting difficult to open the fridge door, but the happiness he felt seeing his baby brother’s achievements was just too much to give up for a little extra convenience.

 

“Yeah well, who would complain about ice cream?” Liam replied, half running towards the door he had just come through.

 

Ian felt a warm hand drop onto his shoulder, and he craned his neck slightly to look at Mickey, who just looked at him with that special look only Ian ever got to see and said “I get what you were saying, about being happy we ended up here, that Liam’s here too.”

 

Ian grinned so wide it hurt, and slid his arms around his husband’s neck, pulling him in for what was possibly the sweetest kiss of his life.

 

“Guys come on, you can make out later!” Liam called from the door, and now it was Ian’s turn to grumble at the interruption.

 

“Come on Sweetface,” Mickey said, kissing Ian’s nose in a sweet imitation of what Ian had done to Liam, “we’ve got ice cream to eat.”

[evan-beethoven]

Off the top of my head I can think of a few:

Pride and Prejudice - one of the most popular books I can think of that fits this description. it's been a while since I've read it so my analysis might not be that good, but I've had it pointed out to me that Mr Darcy's bluntness, dislike of large social gatherings etc. come across in an autistic-coded way

Mrs Miniver - less famous but my mum read this book and enjoyed it very much; the main character has several children, one of whom is very quiet and methodical and dislikes social interaction more than the others. The main character is very accepting and from what I hear kind of just lets him do things his own way

Pretty much anything by JD Salinger - tbh I need to write a whole other post about his books because I'm obsessed with them (that's what inspired this post) but yeah. I'm not just talking about Catcher in the Rye either, I am absolutely certain that Franny Glass from Franny and Zooey has OCD

Honestly one of my reasons for loving classic literature so much is that you get some of the most interesting neurodivergent(-coded) characters...

Like, it's so poignant but still heartwarming to me to see these characters who clearly would be diagnosed as being autistic etc. if they existed nowadays, in stories from a time when those labels didn't even exist!

And yes, sometimes the way they are written and the way other characters treat them is imperfect and ableist, I'm not overlooking that. But what makes me so happy is that, even in these times, there were authors who went out in their daily lives and met neurodivergent people and were just like 'huh, I guess some people are just Like That, better put them in my story!'

No I'm not getting too emotional over this...

[kim-ruzek]

They fuck you up, your mum and dad

Summary: Introspective fic. Jesse asks a question about her father and it sets off all of Amanda's worries and fears.

Warnings: mentions of addiction, gambling addiction.

Word Count: 3k

Read on AO3

Notes: So. I've been rewatching season 15 and I'm in my Amanda feels. This came into my mind last night and would not leave until I wrote so hence my first ever svu fic was born. Although, full disclaimer, I do have the personal headcanon that Nick is Jesse's father, but this is canon compliant in that Murphy is.

The title and poem is from This be the verse by Richard Larkin! (Thank you @fighterkimburgess for the suggestion).

I hope you enjoy!

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.

They may not mean to, but they do.

They fill you with the faults they had

And add some extra just for you.

Amanda always knew that this day would come.

She knew it from the very moment she saw that positive pink line on that drugstore pregnancy test. She knew it when she decided that she was having her baby, that she was keeping her. She knew it when she bumped into Declan Murphy, and the reality that her baby’s father was a career UC was brought once more to the forefront of her mind.

Jesse was a perfect, beautiful baby.

Amanda had such trouble with love, never falling for the right people, never really experiencing real love. But from the very first time she laid eyes on Jesse she loved her, loved her with such a fierceness and strength that she had never felt before. Jesse was the first person who Amanda ever loved, the first love that wasn’t tainted by the darkness of the person’s soul.

Jesse was bright-eyed, beautiful, and angelic. Her soul was the most purest, untouched from any evils. And she was hers, completely and utterly hers.

Of course, that’s not true. There’s no way, biologically and scientifically, that could ever be true. A woman can’t just spontaneously get pregnant—even in the Bible, Mary was blessed by God himself, if she was so inclined to believe.

Jesse is half Amanda’s, half Declan’s. Amanda will never admit—not even to Sonny late at night—just how happy it made her that Jesse took after her in looks, that Amanda’s genes came out the strongest. It’s a petty kind of pride, she thinks, but as selfish as it is, Jesse is hers and she’s always going to happy that’s reflected in her looks.

Not that Amanda would ever love her less if she didn’t. She doesn’t think she physically could—another thing that makes her proud. One of her main wants when she became a parent was that she’d never be like her own mother, that her love would never be conditional, that if she ever had more than one child that she’d never favour the one over the other. And with the fierce certainty that erupts in her at the thought of not loving Jesse, the certainty that isn’t possible, reassures her that she’s at least keeping to that goal.

Still, there are times when Jesse pulls an expression that so strongly reminds Amanda of her old lieutenant, of Jesse’s father, that it brings up the thought, the reminder, that one day this conversation would be had, that Jesse would ask about her father.

Jesse knows who he is, knows the basics. She’s met him, only a handful of times, but she has met him. Liked him, even. They’ll never be like the typical father and daughter, but their moments together has always been positive.

Jesse understands this, knows that Declan is never really going to be around. It’ll make Amanda sadder, if it affected Jesse in any way. But truth be told, Jesse is never that much bothered by it. Not even in a way that’s just her being too grown up, but in a genuine way. A way that it doesn’t mar Jesse’s bright spirit, doesn’t bring any darkness or mess her up in any kind of way absentee parents can do.

Amanda has done good, something that some days she can’t quite get her head around. She’s given Jesse a big, loving, albeit unconventional, family that never leaves her lacking for anything.

She’s got Amanda, a mother who’d quite literally die for her. She’s got Frannie, who’s very much protective over the young Rollins’. And she’s got Billie, a sister, a playmate. Someone who Amanda hopes will grow to be a friend as well as a sister, that the two will be each other’s confidantes. That, especially in the teen years when rebellion is rife, that her daughters will have each other’s backs, even if that means helping to the other to keep secrets from her.

And she’s got so much more. Aunt Liv and Uncle Fin. Her cousin Noah. Even Uncles John and Don, and those rare occasions Nick is in town. And recently, her new uncle, Uncle Elliot. And finally, she has her Uncle Sonny. Sonny, probably the next important person in Jesse’s life aside from her. And through Sonny, even more since they had begun dating, Jesse has grandparents, aunts and uncles and even more cousins.

Jesse is so surrounded by love and people who will protect her with their dying breath. And so, even though Declan is barely present, she’s growing so self assured, with no holes or gaps in her life. This is something Amanda will always be grateful for, that she can’t give Jesse a traditional family but that it doesn’t matter, because the one she’s got leaves her whole.

Amanda had hoped this meant she’d have more time before Jesse came asking about her father.

It’s partly for selfish reasons. Because Amanda has this strong connection with her daughter—both, really—that she’s a single mother, that her daughters are hers and hers alone.

Although as Jesse grows, the less Amanda can think that. She always will of course, because it’ll never change, but it also has. It’s shifted; no longer is Jesse this small, squishy thing who needs Amanda and Amanda alone. She’s a precocious six year old, with her own personality and traits.

Jesse is, biologically, half Amanda and half Declan but she’s fast teaching Amanda just how little genes are important. Because Jesse is made up with little pieces of everyone in her life. She’s taken to using phrases and sayings that Fin uses, she keeps wanting a blazer like aunty Liv’s, and she’s got a Staten Island twang picked up from Sonny.

Amanda loves seeing this, loves seeing her family reflected in her daughter. But it also makes her panic, to cling onto her little girl and never let her go. Because she’s hers.

But this isn’t only why she almost dreaded this day. It’s still her being selfish, but Amanda thinks that everything she feels for her children could be seen as selfish, because nothing else in the world matters more than her two angels.

Declan may, biologically, be Jesse’s father, but Amanda knows who she sees as her dad, in her heart. That Sonny is her father, really. He was the first other person to ever hold Jesse, the second person she first called too, the man she loves and always wants to be with them.

He plays the games he knows she likes, helps her with her homework, takes her to her grandparents and stays with her when Amanda’s busy at work. That he had been doing this long before they were even a couple, that Jesse cuddles had been fixing his bad days ever since she was born.

In Amanda’s heart, Sonny is always going to be Jesse’s dad.

And she so desperately wants it to be true, to have biology support the truth she knows in her heart. She doesn’t put much stock in biology these days anyway, but it would make things oh so more easier. Because Amanda will always think Sonny as her daughter’s dad, but as it’s so, so apparent—Jesse is her own person.

Jesse has her own thoughts and opinions and feelings. And Declan is, biologically, Jesse’s dad. And Amanda knows that what her heart feels, thinks, knows...it means nothing compared to what Jesse’s heart does, what Jesse decides is fact or fiction.

And so Amanda has feared this day, almost. The day Jesse shows an interest in knowing more about Declan.

Fears it because it brings up Amanda’s very real worry that Jesse will reject Sonny, her worry that they’re all just playing at house and if they begin addressing how Jesse has someone else’s blood running through her veins everything will crumple before she can stop it.

And fears because, well, because Amanda’s never really been admired or respected by anyone—especially when it comes to her own blood. But that’s the thing about children, they look at you like you’re their superhero, that you’re invincible. And Amanda knows her daughters will one day see the world less black and white, and she’s prepared for this. Excited, even, because she catches herself often marvelling at the thought of how her relationship with her daughters will be when they’re adults.

But how can she explain how Jesse came to be? How she made a stupid decision and slept with Declan? That she didn’t even realise she was pregnant before Yates, a serial killer, pointed it out. Jesse knows the basics, and Amanda knows that her daughter isn’t asking for these more adult descriptions, but it ignites her ultimate worry in her. That one day her daughter will understand how she came to be, and that she’d think less of her.

Jesse is her first love of her life and the thought of her thinking lowly of her, of judging her, is one that’s too much to bare. One that has brought her to tears in the middle of night just thinking about it, just the idea of her daughter thinking of her in a negative light.

And it’s not because Jesse was conceived after a one night stand, not really. Amanda does worry about that, too, of course—same with Billie. Especially with the girls realising that Amanda made the same mistake twice, and not even with the same man.

But because the story of her and Declan is not a pleasant one. It’s messy, chaotic, unromantic.

How will she ever explain to her daughter that she was only conceived, if you trace it back to the beginning, because she is an addict, because she wasn’t strong enough to stay on the wagon, that she gambled illegally and that she risked everything.

That she only met Jesse’s father because she was outed as a cop, because she was stupid enough to put herself in a situation where being a cop can get you killed.

In general, in a weird way, Amanda feels grateful for her having that lapse. The whole thing with Nate and Lena had hit her like a truck, had stolen her breath and made everything spiral, and made her loose control. Even a year later, it hurt. The betrayal had cut deep and it robbed her of her gambling sobriety.

But then she had Jesse. But then she had stared into Jesse’s eyes for the very first time, and so much of that hurt was instantly evaporated. Because if that didn’t happen, if she didn’t fall if the wagon then, she never would’ve met Declan—she never would’ve had Jesse.

Of course, there’s a chance she still would meet him, because after all he was in charge of svu twice. But Amanda knows, knows, that had she not met him then that she’d never have slept with him, and so she never would’ve had Jesse.

It’s quite remarkable how the act of having Jesse wiped away her remaining embarrassment over it, that she finally accepted that it was just something that had happened.

But there’s always two sides of a coin. And having an addict for a mother, having it be so that your mom only met your dad because she was an addict... How could she ever expect Jesse to know that and not think less of her?

And how does she expand on how she met Declan to a curious six year old? Not quite old enough to deal with bigger information pieces, but not too young to be satisfied with an non answer.

Amanda tries to reassure herself, that at least Declan was a good man. That her conversation with Jesse is infinitely more easier than the one Liv has to have with Noah. But there’s a part of her mind that rebuffs that. That says that Noah is adopted, that Liv is his saviour, whereas she was the one who made the choices that brought Jesse and Billie into the world.

It’s not a fair rebuff. Adoption is always a tough subject, and then there’s the fact that Noah’s biological father was a rapist. That’s never going to be an easy thing to address. Although, if anyone knows how to do it—or rather, how not to do it—it’s going to be Liv.

This reassurance does nothing for her, and she once more wishes so, so strongly that Sonny was her daughters’ father. It’s so easy to just operate on that. Sonny had always been here. He had even been called dada briefly by Jesse when she was a baby.

Even Declan had noted it, on Jesse’s third birthday. He had stopped by, had interacted with Jesse. There was a moment when he was helping Amanda get the cake that he had directed her attention to where Sonny sat playing with Jesse.

“He’s good with her.” Declan had observed. Then he had said something that had taken her by surprise but will forever have a residence in her mind.

“You know, if you ever need me to sign any papers, just say the word. I’ll never be a traditional dad to her, but if you have someone... I’ll sign.” He had said. Amanda had gaped at him, unsure of what to say, but in typical Declan fashion he just moved on easily.

In all this, Amanda has one reassurance, that it’ll be easier with Billie. Billie, like her sister, had called Sonny dada before she could speak much but unlike Jesse, she hadn’t stopped. Most of Billie’s life, her memories, had Amanda and Sonny being an actual couple.

It’s not like Amanda thinks Jesse rejects the idea of seeing Sonny as her father. In fact, she’s fairly certain she does. Father day cards are always addressed to him and since they got together, Jesse’s rather gotten in the habit of just calling him Sonny, not Uncle Sonny. Amanda knows her daughter, and she knows that the dropping of uncle is because Sonny’s no longer an uncle, or at least no longer just that.

But Amanda’s fears go well beyond that. It goes to her fears of how her daughter will see her, if her daughter will think herself as a mistake, as a regret. Her wish for Sonny to be her dad just is so strong not because Amanda wishes for just an easy life, but because there’s so much that could cause Jesse strife in the story of her parents, and Amanda never wants her daughter to feel anything bad.

Jesse is so perfect, so innocent and whole. Her world is small, but filled with so much love. Amanda sees such darkness on a daily basis, and has been through such darkness, but Jesse knows only light. And Amanda knows that Jesse will one day fight her own demons; that Jesse will have her heart broken, that the world will be unfair to her someday.

That thought aches, aches, Amanda’s heart, the desire to protect her daughter from anything bad surging. But it’ll happen, and Amanda can only take comfort in that she’ll help Jesse through it, and that Jesse has so many other people to help her through it.

It’s a source of pride for Amanda that Jesse is having a stable childhood. Amanda herself had such a rocky one, had learnt that home isn’t always as warm and welcoming as it should be. It left a deep scar on her, learning that how and when she did. Sobriety is all about taking responsibility for your own actions, and Amanda doesn’t excuse her mistakes, but she understands that all the chaos she put herself through stemmed from that.

Every day at work Amanda sees just how emotional scars can have an affect on one’s self, and she personally knows that. And that’s why she has feared this day. Because Jesse’s world is whole and balanced, because Jesse doesn’t have a part of her that feels empty, lacking. Because Amanda so hopes that it’ll never change, but that she can’t know that.

Jesse came to be because of something so messy and chaotic. She wasn’t made through love, she wasn’t a purposeful action. Her arrival quite literally changed Amanda’s whole world, for the better, but there’s always the fear that Jesse will see it differently.

There’s so much Jesse can take from Amanda’s life, all with the potential to mar her beautiful life, all with the potential to leave her with scars, with the potential to steal chunks of her soul. And that is what leaves Amanda with a cold fear, because the thought of her daughter loosing a piece of herself, for being fucked up by her parents like Amanda was is something she’s so afraid off. And she’s scared that it’ll be because Jesse will become disillusioned about Amanda, that she’d see her mother only as the bad, disaster of a person she was before, and that’s what will fuck her up the most.

Amanda barely had any time to think about this, however, because she has a rather impatient six year old looking at her and waiting for an answer.

“How did you and Declan meet?” Jesse had asked. She’s never called Declan dad, never knowing him long enough, and Amanda will always feel a little happiness that she’s the only parent in Jesse’s life who’s called Mama, who’s given a title—and gratefulness, of course, that Declan doesn’t mind not being called dad in his infrequent visits.

Amanda looks at her beautiful, perfect daughter and she takes a deep breath.

“He saved me,” She answers simply. Because that’s what he did. Because Amanda got so lucky that he was undercover, that he was a kind cop, that he choose to have her back, that he was so ready to defend her to IAB, to even Liv. There’s so many parts of their story that Amanda can’t quite tell her daughter yet, but she can tell her that her dad is kind, and that’s the important thing.

Someday, she’ll have to tell the full story, and that’s when she’ll have to face all her fears. But for now, she’ll just say this and hope that this is one gene of Declan’s that comes through Jesse; that her daughter will be as kind and understanding as her father, that she’ll believe in Amanda the same way Declan did all those years ago when he saved her life. And that it’ll be enough to save Jesse herself, save her from history repeating itself.

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.

They may not mean to, but they do.

They fill you with the faults they had

And add some extra just for you.

[mrsrcbinscn]

Wilbur Is Not Amused || The Robinsons

@wilbur-robinson​, @mrrcbinson​

Tl;DR: Franny and Cornelius tell Wilbur about the baby. It does not go well.

Date: August 23rd, 2020

 FRANNY:

 So about telling Cornelius she felt fine...turns out that was a lie. Once she got to her ninth week the morning (and noon, and night) sickness began. It got to the point she made excuses to be out during dinner time because she didn’t want to tell the family she was pregnant yet, but she couldn’t actually keep food down. Water and crackers were all that was on the menu these days. Even the foods she was craving she couldn’t actually enjoy! It was frustrating, but overall she was thrilled. 

 Due to her age and her history of miscarriages her doctor wanted weekly ultrasounds to keep an eye on the baby. Now at eleven weeks pregnant and rapidly approaching the second trimester, everything looked great. The baby had a strong heartbeat according to her doctor and that was all Franny had really hoped for. While eleven weeks wasn’t fully out of the danger zone for the most common window for miscarriage, she realized she couldn’t hide it much longer. They’d almost gotten caught already! 

 When Tallulah offered her a glass of wine at Wilbur’s birthday party — the fake one, the one with the family that they always did — she made up an excuse about being on a drinking hiatus to lose weight. Franny hoped her hands hadn’t instinctively gone to touch her abdomen like her brain had been telling her to do. 

 Eleven weeks with a strong heartbeat was already more than she had expected. It seemed like the right time to tell their family and Cornelius as ever took her lead on this. They told his parents first and Lucille squeezed Franny’s hand and reminded her that by loving their son, she’d already fulfilled all of their wishes for their family, and giving them Wilbur was just a pleasant bonus. Franny of course cried. What else could she do? Lucille was sometimes too ridiculously good to her. 

 Next it was Wilbur, and after Franny had stopped crying courtesy of Lucille being too damn wonderful, they called him into their bedroom to talk. Being on her feet was getting tiring, so talking at the window seat in their bedroom just felt more practical than sitting Wilbur down in his room. It was nap time right after this for the pregnant lady. 

 “Why am I nervous? Are you nervous? Am I freaking out again?” She leaned over to catch Cornelius in a kiss and tangled her fingers with his. 

 CORNELIUS:

 Cornelius was still in shock. He partly couldn’t believe it. Almost didn’t if it weren’t for Franny growing sicker and her weekly doctor appointments. It was weird to imagine that at their age - they might be parents again. Just as Wilbur was on the verge of graduation…

He had been caught up in these thoughts all day. Every time he saw Franny now, actually. But especially today because they were telling everyone. His mother had cried. Actually cried. And then hugged him tight while his father made a science pun about atoms - his mother’s crying in his ears had drowned out the rest, to be honest.

 But the kiss and her touch alone broke him out of his thoughts and he looked to Franny. “Oh! I - more like...well, I don’t know,” He admitted. “I mean, Wilbur’s almost an adult. Legally, at least. I know he can act childish sometimes, but he’s a good kid. I think he’ll be excited. He’ll probably teach them to be like his little sidekick and turn them against us at the age of two.”

 He laughed a little at the joke, honestly believing it to an extent though. But he could get where Franny was coming from. Still, he wasn’t nervous himself. 

 Not until Wilbur came in.

 “Hey, kiddo. Come have a seat, will you?”

 WILBUR:

 Wilbur and his parents didn’t really sit down for important talks often. There were a couple times when he was younger (like when they sat him down to say he might be a big brother, or when they sat him down and said actually no he wouldn’t be and his mum would cry). There were other memorable occasions of course, the last one being a dead relative.

 He started going down a list of relatives that could have kicked the bucket, because there were of course some older ones. But could he play guess who? Or was that entirely inappropriate? Wilbur wandered into his parents room with eyebrows furrowed, debating over whether tact was good or bad in this case?

 Wilbur eyed his mum first and then his dad, debating over who would spill the beans first. Then he shrugged and sat down in one of their chairs. “Okay what’s going on? Who died?”

 FRANNY:

 “What?”

 Franny had a brief spiel loosely prepared but Wilbur’s comment threw her off track. Died, huh? No this was the opposite hopefully. Next week would mark the longest she’d stayed pregnant and her OB/GYN said especially considering her risk factors, her pregnancy was healthy. She couldn’t believe her luck at last after nearly twenty years of marriage. 

 A decade and a half of trying to grow their family, until a few years ago, when Franny’s broken hearts couldn’t take it anymore. Cornelius had always been so good, so understanding, and never once blamed her. She couldn’t say the same for herself. 

 It felt too good to be true and too perfect but yet, here they were. Wilbur was going to (most likely, very likely, it seemed) be a big brother. He’d be so much older than his baby brother or sister but he’d be their superhero and the thought of that made Franny’s eyes prick with tears so she took care not to go there right now. 

 “No, your father and I just have to share some exciting news.” Franny began, tightening just barely her grip on one of Cornelius’s hands. “Wilbur, your father and I found out I’m pregnant. At our age, I know, I thought it was a mistake too but I really am. Twelve weeks; in March you’ll have a little minion to teach to get into trouble. Around your father’s birthday, too...everything looks good this time around. Looks perfect.”

 Franny’s grin almost hopped off her face, it was so wide! She reached for one of Wilbur’s hands and squeezed. “Isn’t that exciting?”

 WILBUR:

 There were a few different things Wilbur would have imagined that they’d have to say. Maybe some Great Uncle bit the dust, or they were planning another trip and they wanted him to give them input. Or maybe they were rethinking his request for a horse. You never knew. Wilbur was willing to be imaginative.

 But then his mum started talking, and Wilbur could feel his heart sink. Not sink, maybe it just fell right out of his body and fell into the sea. The bemused look changed so swiftly, any hint of a smile gone from his face as he paled. He could remember the last time his mum had told him she was pregnant. It was years ago, and Wilbur had just assumed (like an idiot apparently) that they wouldn’t try again.

 Why wasn’t he enough for them anyway?

 Wilbur sucked in a breath and let it out again, forcing himself to try not to blow up. He wanted to. He wanted to so badly, because his parents really didn’t think about him at all did they? Wilbur immediately tugged his hand away from his mother, arms wrapping around himself defensively as he glanced between Franny and Cornelius. He was still waiting for one of them to say ‘just kidding’ but...well his parents wouldn’t pull that kind of a stunt with him.

 Which meant no matter how improbable, no matter how horrible, it must be the truth. “Are you serious? Why would I be excited about this? In what world does ‘my mum could possibly kill herself again trying to have a real baby’ sound exciting?” Okay, maybe he couldn’t contain it.

 CORNELIUS:

 Of all reactions, Cornelius didn’t expect this one from Wilbur. Especially faced with the beaming face of his mother right now. But the moment his face changed, he knew something was wrong. And - 

 Real baby? What did that even…

 “Wilbur, what do you by real baby? You’re our real son,” Cornelius began slowly, his mind trying to process everything. Something that was so exciting and joyous suddenly turned sour and was about to become a fight. One that would not be easily fixed either. “Its….you’re not be replaced, if that’s what you’re getting at. Or forgotten or any of that.”

 Considering both of them were orphans, he could put himself in Wilbur’s mindset in a way. But not much. Because this reaction was just - shocking. Were they being selfish though? Were they bad parents to bring this up at Wilbur’s age? He turned to look at Franny, his brows coming together in concern.

 FRANNY:

 Franny first felt white hot anger at her son’s reaction. It was as if for a brief moment she resented him as much as she’d ever loved him. 

 (And briefly, she was angry at Cornelius for not at least gently chastising him for yelling at his mother, but she reminded herself that Cornelius was a better person than she was. He heard Wilbur’s hurt first, whereas Franny first tuned into the anger. Thank god Cornelius was here. She would have shouted right back if not for him.)

 How dare he, she thought though. Now, she expected her son to make a joke about how old she was. She wasn’t stupid enough to think Wilbur, a happy only child, would be thrilled. She expected, however, a quick ‘oh? Cool. Anyway is that all?’

 What she didn’t expect was such a reaction. 

 How dare he, in one instant, rob her of her joy. Franny’s heart sank as she thought to herself this is a mistake. 

 And as quickly as her anger appeared, it subsided, as it always did when she was angry with Wilbur. His words cut but after feeling the impact of those words it was as if she pressed pause on her hurt to instead focus on Wilbur’s, because that’s what moms are supposed to do. 

 She could cry to Cornelius later or perhaps her mother, but who could Wilbur go to? He usually sought her out for comfort but who now?

 “Wilbur…what are you saying?” Franny said quietly as her face fell, before for once in her obnoxious life, she struggled to find words. “You’re not...it...it was an accident, we didn’t mean—“ wait. Was she about to apologize for being pregnant? She sighed and her hand flinched to reach forward and hold Wilbur’s hand, play with his hair, anything, but he’d batted her hand away not a moment ago. “Wilbur, honey. You are our real baby. There is nothing we love more than you and being your parents. Nothing, honey.”

 WILBUR: 

 Honestly, Wilbur thought it was pretty clear what he meant. He was being replaced. By a younger model that would probably be nicer than Wilbur and more likeable than Wilbur because they wouldn’t be as bratty as he could be. They’d probably “try to get it right” this time, and where would that leave Wilbur? Miserable.

 “Really?” He asked, and he couldn’t help but snort. Of course he’d be forgotten. A baby would demand all their attention, and when Wilbur would need them for college things or anything else, he’d probably get ignored. His whole family would probably coo at the baby and focus on what it wanted and needed and he’d be pushed by the wayside. Wilbur wasn’t stupid. He knew babies needed a ton of attention.

 “Why would you still care about having another baby? That’s what I just don’t get! Mum was always so messed up by this shit, and yet that’s always been it. ‘Why can’t I have a real baby to take care of?’ You didn’t say it in as many words, but the implication is pretty fucking clear.” So what if Wilbur was a bit spoiled? Who were the people that had spoiled him in the first place? Oh yeah, it was them.

 He didn’t look forward to watching the way his mum would try to do things differently so this baby, their actual biological one wouldn’t turn out like him. He hated it. He hated it he hated it. He was going to be sick. “I can’t believe you’d do this now! What, I’m going to go off to college soon so it doesn’t matter what I think? That’s great really. Have fun with your new family.” He stumbled to his feet. He needed to get out of here. He wanted to cry, but he was nothing if not determined to do that in the comfort of his own space, without the people who hurt him around.

 FRANNY:

 “Wilbur!” Franny exclaimed, springing out of her seat but not advancing toward her son. She wouldn’t force him to stay but he wasn’t going to storm out without one final attempt to reach him. 

 And, yeah, maybe she said his name in the ‘I’m gonna kick your ass’ tone but with the way he was speaking to his parents right now did he expect any different? His words were hurtful not only to her as his mother, but as a person in general. Franny kept her composure enough to keep from well and truly yelling at Wilbur but under the far too consistent volume of her voice was boiling anger.

 “What do you mean ‘new family?’ For once would it kill you to not be so over-dramatic. Like I just. I just wanna know. You know damn well, Wilbur, that plenty of families have more than one child in them. We wanted a big family because we just did, okay? We just did. There’s no other explanation. We just wanted that. But your father -” 

 Never slowed down. Never could press pause so we could adopt again so I had to try the old-fashioned way even though my body kept telling me I couldn’t do it.

 “- and I just kind of shelved that for the most part. We stopped tryin’ years ago, I didn’t get pregnant to piss you off. Believe it or not, the world doesn’t revolve around Wilbur Robinson. Sometimes it just happens. What was I supposed to do when I found out I was pregnant, huh? What would have made you happy?”

 A beat, and Franny pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. 

 “Get out. Go to bed. Or don’t, I don’t care, just get out.”

 WILBUR:

 So the world didn’t revolve around Wilbur. He knew that already. His mum made it even more clear that he wasn’t that special. He wasn’t enough for them. He’d never been enough for them. If he had, then his parents wouldn’t have cared about a big or a small family. They would have just let that baby stuff be and loved him. 

 Why did mum think he was overdramatic? It wasn’t overdramatic to realize he was being replaced! It would be different if they’d adopted or had another kid when he was still little, when it was a normal thing to do. This wasn’t normal. He’d never felt so unappreciated in his life, and he’d had his moments of doubt. 

 “Oh I know the world doesn’t revolve around me. And it never will, because that new baby’s just going to replace me and that’s just great. I’m glad you get a do over to have a better kid.” And since he was already in it, and he’d clearly already pissed off his mum too, Wilbur headed out, both middle fingers waving at them as he made his way out. He’d break down once he was alone. He wouldn’t cave until then.

[harrietvane]

It's that time of year! Practical Magic. Thoughts? In as much unnecessary detail as you please?

OK so while it might seem now way past that time of year, I’m here to say it’s always Owens Season in my heart. A crunchy leaf autumn is obviously peak Owens, but February is no less Owens-y. You just have to believe.

Anyway. Thoughts. Here goes: Good things about the 1998 delicious cinematic masterpiece directed by actor, Carrie Fisher BFF, and director Griffin Dunne (fun fact: he’s also Joan Didion’s nephew! The more you know.) In no particular order:

What’s a job? Seriously, does anyone do ANY work around here? Neither of the aunts do more than can be charged from the occasional desperate lovesick townie, but like how often is that? Sally has the amazingly bare-minimum aesthetic job of hanging out in her wonderfully chic store and labelling things, from time to time. That is not a retail job I’VE ever had, and I’ve had a lot. Gillian? Hell no, it’s pool parties an undefined nomadic photoshoot life for Gilly.  Husband Number One Michael pushes some crates of produce around? Sometimes? Just to be clear I LOVE THAT THIS MOVIE DOES NOT CARE ABOUT REAL-WORLD EMPLOYMENT BC THAT IS BORING. As far as it cares, you can hang out and live the witch aesthetic all day every day, braiding your hair and drying herbs, and that’s just how it is on this witch of an earth, and I WOULD ACTUALLY LOVE THAT YES THANKS. Idk, it’s an odd reaction, but just watching it gives me this ‘imagine if living was actually like this??’ vibe, quite separate from the narrative. It’s like one of those obnoxious ‘hands around tea cups/chunky sweaters’ aesthetic blogs, but like as though that was an ACTUALLY FUNCTIONAL LIFE FOR AN ENTIRE 2 HOUR MOVIE. It’s extremely soothing and consistent in this regards, re: world building. Why not be someone with no reliable income who makes your own hand-pressed envelopes, go nuts. Love it.

It’s a romcom about women and love, but manages NOT to be about a specifically young single woman finding a specific singular love (ie the standard romcom narrative). Like, it still is a romcom in both genre and tone a lot of the time, but it’s about love, meaning: romantic love maybe actually coming around twice (or more), about love being between sisters, between mothers and daughters, between a community of women, with all the challenges and pains and joys of that. I mean Sally is arguably the protagonist, and she does find romantic love, but the climax of the narrative is not about her finding/saving that, it’s about her and Gillian, and it’s treated as the main relationship of the film. The big ‘oh no’ moment and the big ‘oh yes’ victory moment is all about the love between Sally and Gillian, and it’s given the same weight as a romcom would give the run to the airport moment. I mean Aidan Quinn is great but he’s quite literally an afterthought, plot beat wise.

Speaking of subverting tropes: it’s the husband who gets fridged to further a woman’s narrative. Chistopher Nolan wakes somewhere in fright. Feels good. Feel organic

Anyway THAT GRIMOIRE. Prop designs OF THE GODS. IT’S PERFECT. IT FOLDS OUT. IT HAS BOTANICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. IT’S HAND-WRITTEN. IT CAN MAKE LOVE SPELLS, OR ZOMBIES, WHATEVER YOU NEED.

and connected to that, THE HOUSE. Many many people have an obsession over the house. The kitchen, specifically. The still room (drying room/pantry). The greenhouse. The staircase. The parlour. This amazing house that does not exist because they shot it on federal lands where the filming permission stated all structures where to be temporary and removed at end of filming! It didn’t even have foundations - it was a dollshouse of a structure sitting flat on top of the earth, and it vanished in a puff of movie magic. Actually sort of perfect.

Soooooo a words on the aunts, and the curse: word of god has now clarified that Franny and Jet are sisters, so they’re actually Sally and Gilly of the previous generation, but tbh just going on the movie i feel that you can feel free to read them as Married Witches™ where Jet is the Owens and Fran is her non-Owens wife. Jet snaps ‘what about my poor Ethan’ in reference to her own tragic Cursed Dude Event, but it could be assumed by the viewer that after Ethan shuffled off this mortal, that she met Frances The Lesbian Witch and they got married. I mean if you wanted to infer that, i don’t think the movie contradicts it? If Sally and Gilly’s flashback mum was a ginger, and jet is the brunette sister, then Franny would be an in-law? Anyway, their life is amazing, which ever way you read it. But reading them as married does bring up an interesting what-if: is the curse specific to men? I’m gonna say yes. Maria was specifically abandoned by a man, and i think wording is important in both legal documents and binding curses, which are, after all, related.

speaking of the curse, I find it so tragic and interesting and PAINFUL that Maria’s curse was prompted by her grief and anger at her lover abandoning her, but she didn’t actually curse HIM. Whoever he was he probably lived out his puritan days or whatever. Her curse was directed INWARD: she caused pain to herself and her family. It’s not the townsfolk men who are cursed, it’s the Owens women. That’s what we do. That’s what we’re taught to do as a response to breakups, when they hurt us, there’s not a big societal trend of men getting killed by ex-girfriends: after a breakup we react by hurting ourselves, not them. It’s the worst curse ever because you see it and you KNOW. That curse makes SENSE. and it’s HORRIBLE.

anyway in lighter news don’t you love the Owens Aesthetically Consistent Hair Colour Siblings? They could easily have made the 2 actresses consistently styled, but hey let’s make it fun. Flashback mum, Sally and Gilly, and Kylie and Antonia - One very ginger, one very brunette: it’s so pointless, so unexplained, and therefore amazing. The less explanation the better tbh. I love it.

Did you know Jimmy isn’t even rocking that Dracula Cowboy vibe in the novel? He’s just some american dude. But I guess they cast Goran Visnjic and were like ‘…….but he’s hot being Very Extremely Croatian, so Jimmy is Croatian now’. Excellent call.

all the small magics? Not like big, hand-wavy, nose-twitchy gesture magic, but just like Sally’s tea always stirring itself, and the aunts making toast appear to support an excuse. Sally and Michael’s matchmaking spell not being explained, or being given sparkly effects, it’s just [aunts tense about the time], [bells ring], Stockard Channing gives and incredibly fake ‘…..where are you going dear?’, and you KNOW there’s magic afoot. And of course, Phone. Tree. Day. Slow clap. I love the INFERENCE rather than the overt demonstration of the small magics.

So the cut a potentially endless post short, I will always be emotional about the the comparison between the woman in the first act who comes to the house to the aunts snapping out ‘why the hell else would i come here??’ like just disgusted at even being there, being compared with the image of Margo Martindale and the other townswomen all in the Owens house at the end (especially the woman who didn’t have a broom so she brought a mini-vaccum!) and how they don’t really understand the Owens but they came just because Sally told them she was afraid, and asked for help for a woman in danger.

Lastly, the soundtrack is PERFECT. Stevie goddamn Nicks. Amazing.

[skz-thunderous-stays]

Okay so I wrote this last night and was encouraged by the lovely @roger-drummerboy-taylor to post it so here it is! My first proper piece of writing in three years. A Meet the Robinsons ficlet with my OC Bella Framagucci. Enjoy! Xx

Bella sighed as she slammed the door to her bedroom closed, leaning against it as she closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was to spend some time with her family and her dad but she couldn't beceue she was scared of leaving her room and it was all because of her fear of contamination OCD. It hadn't been that bad up until now but now it made her scared to go outside and it made her scared to spend time with her family just incase she ran into her Uncle Cornelius. She loved Uncle Cornelius with all her heart but her OCD made it hard. She was terrified if anything that could harm her such ad chemicals and well with Uncle Cornelius being a scientist and spending a lot of time in his lab, well it sent her fear into overdrive. She would only leave her room and socialise when her uncle was on business trips but now with him being back for a while, she knew she wouldnt be leaving her room for a while and while it wasn't ideal, she could live with it. She had an en suite bathroom (like most of the bedrooms in the house) and she had plenty of things to keep her occupied and she was sure she would be able to get Carl to being her meals up for her.

Bella flicked the lock on her door before she made her way to her bed, grabbing her phone off the bedside table before she flipped down on her bed, unlocking it and immediatley a message popped up from her cousin..well one of her many. The Robinsons were a large family.

[From: Laszlo. {Hey, what's up? Uncle C gets back and you immediately lock yourself in your room until he leaves}]

Bella sighed as she tried to think of a response. She couldn't leave him on read or she would have him at her door before she could even blink.

[From: Bella. {I'm fine, Laz. It's just a bit hard to explain it when I'm trying to find a way to explain it to my dad before I tell anyone else in the family. Once I've told dad then I'll tell everyone else. I promise. I'm fine though x Just let uncle Cornelius know that I love him and it's nothing person x }]

Bella sighed as she put her phone down beside her. She thought it was stupid that Bella Framagucci was scared of chemicals when her Uncle was a well known scientist. It never bothered her when she was little but it had started whe she got into secondary school and gradually got worse from there. Whenever she had science class as soon as she got home she threw her clothes in the trash and had showers that could take up to an hour. It was the only way her mind could calm down but at least she didnt have to worry about science class for 3 months since she was summer break and then she only had two years left when she could finish high school at 18. She just had to survive 2 more years and she was hoping she would be able to drop science when she went back.

"You know you cant hide this forever right?" Carl spoke as he walked into Bella's room with her evening meal.

"Yes. Thank you Carl. I know that. Everyone keeps reminding me about that" Kim groaned as Carl put her meal and her dessert down on her table before he walked over and placed a cold metallic hand on her shoulder which caused the 16 year old girl to look up.

"Everyone is just worried. You lock yourself up for days and then act like nothing is wrong and you wont tell your dad what's wrong and he's extremely worried.." Carl trailed off and Bella nodded. Gaston Framagucci, Bella's dad, was one of the nicest people alive (he entire family were nice), he never lost his temper, was eccentric just like everyone in their family was, competitive bit extremely loving and caring and would do anything to protect those he loved a d he was slightly protective of Bella ever since her mum died when Bella was only 4 years old and as she grew she resembled her dad is some many ways with the same black hair with the family cow lick, brown eyes and slightly pointed nose with her mom's dimples.

"I know Carl..I'm just trying to figure out a way to tell everyone" That was true but she was also putting it off. She knew her family would be understanding, except maybe Aunt Petunia but she was always cranky and temperamental and Bella had grown used to it. She knew her family would make changes to make sure she wasnt triggered but she didn't want to bother them with that.

"Whatever you say, whatever it is, you know they are going to support you"

"I know Carl and thanks for that little talk and for bringing my food up"

"Well I couldn't have you starving now could I?" Carl laughed as he made his way to the door while Bella laughed.

"Wow Carl, you're so kind" Bella chuckled as she waved goodbye to Carl, then she was once again alone in her room. As Bella walked over to her desk , it hit her how badly she missed sitting at the large table, large enough to sit 13, with her family members while hearing Frankie the frog singing and even form her room, she could hear the mumbled conversation from the dining room.

She missed it so much but she just couldn't risk it. She wouldnt even be able to leave the room if she wanted her, her fear just didnt make it possible. She sat down as her desk, eating her dinner alone as she played music to drown out the conversation from downstairs.

"Any word from her?" Franny asked as Carl walked back into the dining room and all eyes turned to look at the robot who just shook his head in response. Gaston's usual goofy smile instantly fell and Franny noticed her brothers expression and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"She'll tell us when she's ready Gaston..its just important that we don't push her" Franny spoke softly in attempts to calm her brother. She hated seeing him in distress. She had only seen him like this once before and that was after his wife died and it crushed her back then.

"Maybe you should go to her and talk to her after dinner?" Billie suggested and Gaston looked up to look at Billie.

"I know Franny said wait but darling, it tears us apart to see you this worried and upset." Lucille spoke up with the motherly smile on her face and Gaston was so thankful for his mother in law at that moment.

"You really think I should?" Gaston asked and a chorus of agreements welcomed him.

"If we wait for her to tell us then she might never tell us" Corenlius sent a quick smile to his brother in law and he was more than happy to see Gastin return the smile. It was strange to see Gaston without a smile, even when he was injured from his stunts, he was always smiling.

Gasto jogged up the stairs to his daughters room, taking them two at a time. He wouldn't force her to tell him anything but he just wanted to let her know that she could tell him anything and he wouldn't be mad but as a Dad he just hoped that it wasn't anything to serious. As a parent, you just wanted to keep children safe and he couldn't keep his wife safe..he had to protect Bella.

Gaston walked up to his daughters door and knocked on the door, hearing the music playing in her room. He heard movement from behind the door, footsteps getting closer to the door. Relief flowing through him when Bella opened the doors even though it was just a crack.

"Dad?" Bella asked softly as she opened the door all the way.

"Hey sweetie, can we talk?" Gaston asked and he didn't miss the way Bella seemed to tense up but she nodded none the less, moving aside so Gaston could walk in. Gaston walked into his daughters room, looking around at how she redecorated it. Light red walls, her double bed pushed up against the wall with black bedding and black pillows, just like her dads outfit, her bookcase overflowing with books, notebooks stacked up on her writing desk, her clothes hung neatly on the clothes racks she had insisted on, pictures of her family in little and large frames all around her room. The photo of the family on Christmas morning from last year in the large frame on her writing desk, positioned so she would be looking at it when she woke up and he smiled as his eyes focused on it. Bella laughing as she was pulled into a hug by Laszlo and Tallulah, Wilbur sat in front of her as Bella pulled him into a hug with the family laughing and smiling but Gaston couldn't miss the two small photo frames on her bedside table. One of them held the picture from the day she wa born, Gaston and his wife, looking st a sleeping Bella who lay in her mom's arms and the other one was from Bella's third birthday with her mom kissing her right cheek while Gaston kissed her left cheek as Bella was clapping over the cake in front of her. Gaston smiled softly at that picture, feeling tears build up in his eyes.

"Dad..you okay?" Bella asked softly, bringing her dad out of his thoughts as he nodded.

"I'm fine, my little cannonball" Gaston smiled as he sat down on her bed and Bella grinned as she sat down next to him, loving his nickname for her. Dad always did love canonballs.

"So what's up?" Bella asked softly.

"Sweetie, I'm not going to push you to say anything and I am going to support you no matter what..I just want to know what's going on in that little head of yours that makes you hide from us"

Bella tried to keep it in but she couldn't as she burst into tears, the stress, the fear and the isolation finally getting to her. She explained it all to her dad as he held her close, wrapped tightly in his arms as she poured her heart out to him. Gaston knew the family were down the hall, listening to every word but he could only focus on his daughter.

"Bella, why didnt you say anything? You know we would of done anything to help you.." Gaston whispered to his daughter as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "We love you.."

"I didn't want to bother anyone.." Bella spoke, tears still rolling down her face.

"You could never bother us" Came a voice from the doorway and Bella and Gaston looked over to see Uncle Art (Gaston and Franny's brother) stood in the doorway with the rest of the family, including Cornelius who looked freshly showered and dressed in something that wasnt his work clothes (so Bella would feel comfortable around him).

"We love you" Uncle Fritz spoke up with a smile, Petunia on his hand as always.

"And we would do anything to make you feel comfortable" Grandpa Bud joined in as Grandma Lucille nodded.

"And we'll get through this together" Laszlo smiled at his cousin, an arm slightly around his sister's shoulders as he wasnt hovering for once. Tallulah nodded at what her brother said.

"You aren't alone" She added.

"You got us" Wilbur grinned at his cousin.

Bella got up and walked over to her family who had now migrated into her room. She stood in front of Cornelius and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you.." She spoke, her voice muffled by his sweater, her shoulders shaking as she cried happy tears. Cornelius hugged her tightly, kissing her forehead.

"Anything for you Bella" He whispered into her as he pair fell to their knees, hugging and within a minute, the hug turned into the Robinson family hug.

With this family, Bella knew she would be alright. She was a Robinson and a Robinson just kept moving forward. As she looked at her family, she let herself smile as she closed her eyes, relaxing into the hug. She would be okay.

[1dffexchange]

Off the Grid

To: Morgan @redcalvinsharry

From: Hannah @primetimewritings​

Summary: An OU where full time skincare blogger and facialist, Olivia James, finds herself in the middle of a Vogue party and runs into childhood friend, Liam Payne. The two rekindle their friendship that was P.O.D (Pre-One Direction) but their friendship is anything but easy. With her stubborn and independent nature, Olivia fails to see the best things in front of her...which includes Liam. A story about skincare, reconnecting, and discovering true feelings. 

Author’s Note: Morgan, please enjoy! This was quite self indulgent for me but I thoroughly enjoyed writing it! 

For a Tuesday morning, Oxford Street was eerily quiet. Pedestrians normally streamed out of Oxford Circus Station, pushing and shoving to get to their destinations. But that morning, Olivia James ascended the stairs out onto Oxford Street with Topshop appearing in front of her and few shoppers in sight. It was early enough still that people hadn’t made it out yet. Olivia only noticed when she realized she didn’t have to keep checking herself on the sidewalks out of paranoia that she was going to walk into someone.

She had her sights on Selfridges in the distance. The giant iconic department store stood like a commanding and inviting presence on the block. It was where Olivia got her start into skincare and where she loved to return to any chance she got. Selfridges demanded attention sheerly because of its grandiose exterior and the even more inviting temptation of every designer under the sun and levels of shopping inside.

Olivia paused at the curb, checking for oncoming cars before footing it across in her Chelsea boots. Although she loved to browse and wander down in the food hall in the bottom of Selfridges, she had to pop into the Beauty Hall first. She was helping out at the Kiehl’s counter that day where her best friend and flatmate, Frannie, worked. Olivia lended her expertise to skincare brands and stores across London because it was what she did.

She fell into the blogging world in Uni for an assignment set by her professor to start a blog and maintain it for a month. The month passed quickly, Olivia aced the assignment, and kept going with her blog. In the early days, she wrote about whatever she wanted. Mostly about what she bought and her thoughts on skincare and makeup. She spent too many days watching girls go out to the pub wearing five pounds of makeup only to watch it flake and rub off by the end of the night. Olivia eventually figured out it was due to lack of moisturizer which turned into her harping on Frannie to take her makeup off after a night out at the pub.

Like most bloggers shared on various platforms, Olivia never planned to blog full time. Somehow she got picked up by a small PR agency that held its ground with representing bloggers and swinging loads of free products for their clients. Along with blogging, she was a qualified aesthetician. She loved lending a hand to various spas and popping into skincare offices to give facials to their clients. She felt some weird high and passion when it came to massaging moisturizer into someone’s face. Even Frannie didn’t get it but damn if she didn’t love when Olivia would give her an at home facial.

Olivia breezed through the giant doors, smiling as she walked through the handbag department. Some of the employees gave her a friendly wave as she passed. Helping out in stores was like working in retail again but she got to avoid all of the bullshit that usually came with a retail job. Frannie made sure that she didn’t get too far away from her retail roots though by sharing all the crap she had to put up with at the Kiehl’s counter. Olivia would gladly humble Frannie’s moans by pointing out that it was thanks to Olivia that Frannie even had a job. She usually went mum after that.

She spotted Frannie cleaning out some dirt from under her fingernails while leaning over a counter with a Jo Malone rep chatting her up. Frannie laughed and rolled her eyes at whatever the bloke said, but her eyes were glassy. She was completely checked out and it made Olivia snort.

Frannie barely noticed Olivia walk up even though her boots made hell of alot of noise on the tile floor.

Olivia rolled her eyes, pulling her scarf off and stuffing it in her bag. She started to take in the products on the counter too, noting what was new and what had gone away.

At the sound of movement, her flatmate spun around, eyebrows raised at the sound.

“Oh, just you,” Frannie remarked, grinning cheekily.

“Oi, that’s a fine way to greet me.” Olivia hugged Frannie, pressing a cheek quickly to hers. “You seemed busy.”

Frannie rolled her eyes, pushing her hair over her shoulder. “Please, I just like to flirt. He’ll give me all the samples I could ever want if I just give him a bit of attention.”

Olivia shook her head, sorting through what the apothecary brand had on offer for the day. “Right, chat me up. Tell me what’s going on.”

She knew she needed to go ahead and get the work-y bits out of the way before she and Frannie delved into their usual string of gossip and utter nonsense that they usually fell into when they were together. Thankfully the Beauty Hall stayed quiet enough that Frannie could run through the newest products with Olivia without interruption. Even though they were there for customers, nothing was worse than being interrupted by a customer. That loss of concentration and emergence of irritation at the mere phrase of, “are you busy?” made Olivia’s skin crawl to the day.

After Olivia was chatted in, they ended up tag teaming some customers from Italy who spent around 300 pounds.

Grinning after her sale, Frannie rested her bony elbows on the counter. “Okay, so, what’ve you got going on tonight, Liv?”

Olivia was Olivia to her bosses, fellow bloggers, and her followers on Instagram but to Frannie, she was Liv, long time best friend from Uni and reliable flatmate who always hung her towel up after she used it.

Olivia blew a stray piece of hair out of her face from where she messed with it. “Well, I was gonna hang out here until early afternoon cos then I’ve got some conference calls I have to sit in on. Then I’ve got this party with Vogue tonight.”

Frannie twitched, making her stand up straight and her eyebrows flew into her hair. “Vogue?! What the bloody hell? You wait to tell me this!”

Liv jumped, surprised by her outburst. Frannie always thought the events Olivia went to were way cooler than they really were. Olivia was unbothered by the lavish party set up with guests schmoozing each other over what were normally overpriced cocktails. Olivia liked brand events the most out of her job, because they were usually more personal and intimate.

“Soz, I thought I had told you ‘cos I had a plus one.”

Frannie frowned, a fine line appeared between her perfectly brushed and filled in eyebrows. “No you didn’t. Fuck and I have a date with whatshisname from Bumble.”

Olivia glanced from her mobile screen that had just lit up to her best friend. “So? Cancel.”

“Nah, can’t. He’s fit as hell and said he’d take me to the Ivy for dinner. His dad’s got some sort of connection,” Frannie winked.

Olivia rolled her eyes, unamused. While Frannie was a known serial dater, swiping faster than Olivia could like a post on Instagram, Liv wasn’t bothered with the dating world. She’d had a serious boyfriend in high school but when he moved to Leeds for med school, Olivia broke up with him. She dated some after that but her work kept her busy enough and she got enough free dinners from brand events in the city.

Liv wasn’t jazzed about the event with Vogue anyways. She hadn’t a clue of who was going but she imagined it might be people who were way out of her league with actual talents like acting and singing. Frannie told her to stop being silly and make sure she set her makeup really well so she didn’t look like a goblin in the tabloids.

“Wow, cheers Fran,” Olivia replied.

Frannie smirked, wagging a finger in Olivia’s face. “Can’t be looking like Casper the Ghost with that flashback face, honey.”

**

After a brief two hours at home where Olivia blitzed her room before it dissolved into utter disaster, she headed back into central London but thankfully not on the tube. Instead, a black Mercedes came to pick her up. She felt out of her element in the back of the car that probably cost several years of her rent, but at least she looked good. The October weather was starting to turn with a chill in the air, particularly at night. Playing it safe, Olivia chose a pair of light wash high waisted boy jeans and a black lace silk camisole she had tucked into her trousers. She got away with layering her leather jacket over it since it was warmer than it seemed.

Olivia knew of a couple bloggers going to the Vogue event that night which made her feel less of a total loser. Experience taught her that explaining her job and what she did was tricky for people to understand usually. They always gave her a nod like they got it but walked away scratching their heads. Olivia even wondered sometimes how what she did was actual work. She got to talk about skincare with strangers all day. She loved doing that, so was it really work?

This thought constantly followed her but thankfully she couldn’t let it fester any longer since the car had pulled up to the hotel where the party was taking place. She could already tell from the hotel exterior that Vogue had pulled out all the stops to celebrate the new editor in chief and the new era he would bring in. Not only was it a celebration for the editor but it was also to kick off award season in the fashion world. Olivia really didn’t get how fashion awards had a whole season or let alone how many fashion award shows existed but she appreciated the invites when they came in.

Following the trails of gold balloons lining the walkway into the hotel and through the lobby, Olivia trailed behind some other party guests ahead of her, looking exquisitely posh and out of her league. Olivia giggled to herself out of disbelief that she’d landed here.

If the lobby was decked out, it was nothing compared to the top floor where a giant hall had been transformed for all of Vogue and its party guests. There was an underlying yet painfully obvious theme of gold throughout the room. Gold balloons continued through the room, but delicately dispersed so one would forget they existed until they turned a corner and found balloons strung along the walls, floating on the ceiling, and tied up around the room. The bartenders and servers wore tasteful black outfits and gold ties. Olivia even noticed the women working the party had gold highlighter dusted along their cheekbones and temples.

The hall as jammed with people of all kinds. Olivia held her breath when Alexa Chung passed by, wearing an outfit similar to Liv’s but she was looked loads better in hers. Women were tastefully dressed in clothes that were carefully put together for the right Instagram. One would think they just had incredible taste but Olivia knew it was all for the ‘gram.

High off her Alexa Chung sighting, Olivia sought out the bar and soon ran into a fellow fashion blogger she first met at a Jo Malone event years ago. They latched onto one another, giggling behind their cocktails over how unbelievably silly it was that they were there. Drinks in hand, Olivia joined a few more people who were experts at socializing. Unlike most parties that felt forced, Olivia felt the energy in the room inviting. She was moving from conversation to conversation, barely noticing when her drink was empty and a flute of champagne ended up in her hand. It was a bubbly gold of course.

A couple hours later, Olivia’s glass was empty and she wasn’t sure how many champagnes had been rotated through her hand. Excusing herself from a conversation between the head of the British Fashion Council and Made in Chelsea’s Frankie Gaff, Olivia snuck into the crowd in search of a glass of water. She accidentally stepped on someone’s toes at some point and when she turned back to apologize, the person was gone.

Olivia shrugged, turned around, and starred ahead. She blinked a few times, wondering if she was seeing things.

Liam Payne stood three feet away from her, drink in hand and eyebrows raised as he said something to some tall man that resembled a football player from Man United.

Impossible. In what world would he be here? Olivia wondered, still rooted to the spot. She didn’t even feel someone knock her in the shoulder, sloping part of their drink on her boot.

In her next breath, Liam looked her way. He did a double take like Olivia had, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief similar to Liv’s.

“Shit,” Olivia cursed.

She didn’t give him a chance to get another look because she took off in a span of two seconds. Easier said than done, she wove her way through, by passing niceties and just shoving her way out. She breathed a sigh of relief once she reached one of the golden bars set up near a wall.

The bartender in his gold tie eyed her as she popped out between three business suit clad men. “Can I get you something?”

A water. Get a glass of water. “Champagne, please.”

“Olivia? Olivia James, is that you?”

With a voice like honey with a touch of poshness, Olivia could still hear the Wolverhampton accent in his tone. Olivia resisted the urge to smile out of nervousness and looking like an idiot.

Fuck.

“Hi Liam, how are you?” She asked, feeling like an idiot as the words left her mouth. The hell do you know? He’s not even your friend! He’s mister big singer now or whatever!

Liam laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners like they always did. Somewhere in her chest, she felt a vibration. She saw the sixteen year old boy she knew before staring back at her but also a fit, rugged man with hair perfectly messed up and jeans that hugged him in all the right places.

He moved in quickly for a hug, embracing her like an old friend. Technically, they were old friends from the same circle in school. Olivia noticed how good he smelled too. Something significantly woody and a touch of spice. Undoubtedly manly and sophisticated. She tried to place it from all her hours in beauty halls across London.

“Miss, here’s your champagne.” The bartender broke whatever trance she was in, snapping her back to reality.

She blushed, taking the glass carefully so her slightly shaking hand didn’t spill it all over the floor.

“Who’re you here with? Can’t believe I didn’t see you before,” Liam asked, talking quickly and moving closer as some fashion bloggers Olivia didn’t know but recognized shuffled past. She picked up on the glances they threw over their shoulders towards Liam.

“Myself. I was invited,” she said lamely, lifting her glass to her lips.

Liam’s eyebrows went up. “Score Olivia, that’s amazing. What are you doing now?”

Olivia laughed then, suddenly she felt like she was at a high school reunion rather than one of the biggest parties in all of London. “I work in skincare. I manage relationships between brands and stores. I also recently became a licensed esthetician.”

“No shit, that’s amazing. Do you like it?” Liam asked. He kept having to move closer since people kept jostling around them, forcing them to inch nearer.

“Love it. I just sort of,” she shrugged, “fell into it I guess. But that’s how it happens sometimes, isn’t it?”

Liam nodded, sipping on his drink. Raising his hand, Olivia got a close look at the tattoo on his hand, it was so incredibly detailed that she wanted to reach out and examine it in hers. Good call on the champagne, she thought.

They stood rooted to their spots near the bar before someone almost toppled Olivia over into Liam. He suggested they move out of the fray and Olivia found herself removed from the party, perched on a lounger where she could observe the party rather than being caught in the middle of it. Liam sat next to her, his long legs bent towards her so he could hear better over the din of the music.

She and Liam went to school together back before he left for X Factor and never came back. The few friends he had were friends with Olivia’s friends. Olivia remembered Liam wasn’t that social or popular while they were in school but he was always invited to the same things as Olivia. Talking to him made her remember how he said once somewhere that he couldn’t get anyone to come to his sixteenth birthday party. That broke her heart at the time because Olivia remembered the invitation but she’d been on holiday with her family at the time, forcing her to miss it. She couldn’t even remember if she’d given him anything in the end. They weren’t good friends so probably not.

“This is still so crazy I’ve run into you here. I hear things from time to time from my mum, I don’t know if you remember her,” Liam said, pausing to sip his drink. “She might have mentioned once that you’d moved to London but I don’t remember.”

Olivia nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear out of nervousness. “Do you get to talk to your mum often? I’m sure it’s hard to keep up with her. Or, I guess her with you.”

Liam shrugged humbly. “I mean, yes and no. Since I’m always travelling, I’m the one to call her ‘cos I know when I can reach her because she doesn’t always know where I am.” He chuckled at the end of his sentence. “It’s like I’m still a kid and I’ve snuck out and my parents don’t know where I’ve gone. It’s a lot like that.”

“God, that would drive me crazy,” Olivia shook her head.

“Believe me, it drives her nuts. She never knows what country I’m in or where I’ve gone to next.” Liam paused. “To be fair I hardly know myself. But, I want to hear about you. How many years has it been?”

Olivia shrugged, glancing towards the ceiling in thought. “Like, eight? Nine? Dunno, whenever you left to go off and be in the band on X Factor.” She smiled, noticing the way his lips perked automatically into a grin.

He shrugged. “Go on. What made you move to London from Wolverhampton?”

Olivia shrugged again. She told him how she started her blog in uni for a class and kept writing it even after the class was done. Once she graduated with a degree in Communications, she moved to London because Frannie needed a flatmate and Liv had no desire to return home right after uni.

“I moved out a couple months after I got my degree and I haven’t lived there since. Obvs I go home for like, Christmas holidays and stuff but that’s about it. I’m too busy now to go home as much as I’d like.” Olivia loved her mum and dad, her home, and the parks of Wolverhampton but London had her heart and her attention. She loved living in London where everything was just minutes away compared to how rural Wolverhampton could be.

Liam nodded, the soft mood lighting catching his eyes and offsetting the golden tones in his brown eyes. Olivia leaned further into the chaise.

They sat there catching up for a couple more hours while people milled around them. Occasionally someone would come by to say hi to Liam or Olivia (mostly Liam) and they’d exchange an awkward explanation about how they knew each other. Olivia made it awkward out of paranoia of people thinking they were something they weren’t.

At some point, a journalist came by to borrow Liam for a photo op. Claiming they needed photos before everyone who mattered left, Liam squeezed Olivia’s hand, promising to come back as soon as he could.

She watched him go, his tall stature cut through the crowd as he followed the journalist. Sighing to herself, she drained the last bits of her champagne and deposited it on a nearby table. She left the party easily, muttering a few goodbyes to those left that she knew, and slid back into a sleek towncar to take her back to her flat.

**

A week passed since the party and other than rehashing the whole thing to a very excitable Frannie, Olivia hadn’t thought about Liam again since. She rummaged through the goodie bag she was given when she left, sorted through it to find what she wanted, and gave the rest to Frannie.

Frannie kept asking Olivia if she’d heard from Liam again periodically. Olivia eventually snapped one Thursday night in their flat.

“No, I haven’t heard from him and why would I? He’s probably forgotten he even saw me in the first place,” Olivia retorted with a wave of her hand.

The next morning, Olivia was back on Oxford Street with plans to help out in Liberty’s Beauty Hall for a few hours before treating herself to mooch around in the upper levels of the iconic store. Her mobile buzzed in her bag. An unfamiliar number was on the screen, and like any normal person, Olivia would usually ignore it but since she was so close to Liberty, she worried the caller was someone telling her to cancel or plans had changed.

“Hello, this is Olivia James,” she answered in her best grown up business voice.

“Olivia, it’s Liam,” a voice replied on the other end.

Olivia stopped in her tracks like she had at the party almost two weeks ago. A man grumbled behind her at her sudden stop. Ignoring him, she pieced together a reply.

“Oh my God, what?” She replied rudely, instantly grimacing. “I mean, sorry, who?”

Liam laughed. “It’s Liam Payne. We went to school together? We ran into each other at that party a while back?”

Olivia wanted to slap herself on the forehead for answering. “Hi, ‘course I know who you are. I guess I’m just surprised you have my mobile number.”

“Uh, I may have gotten it from the party. For some reason people want to give me what I ask for. Although my mum says I’m stupid if I buy a life size Jurassic Park dinosaur for my backyard.”

“That would be stupid,” Olivia agreed. Great, insult him why don’t you?! God, kill me now.

“Hmm, guess I should cancel my dino order then from Amazon,” Liam suggested casually.

“Oh God, you’ve already gone and done it, haven’t you?” Olivia asked, moving out of the way of other pedestrians. It was Friday morning and Oxford Street was buzzing.

Liam laughed, sending ripples through Olivia. “No, no that would be stupid. But I’ve ordered stuff drunk off Amazon before. Those were some wild deliveries, let me tell you.”

“Please, spare me. It’ll probably just stress me out,” Olivia said. She hated when her PR boxes and other parcels piled up before she could get a grip on them.

“Why? Have you got some beef with Amazon?”

Olivia laughed. “Definitely not. They’ve come through when I need them most. I can’t stand the disorganization though. There’s too many cardboard boxes at my house right now.”

“Why don’t you get rid of them? Or are you trying to tell me you live in a cardboard box?” Liam joked.

“Yeah, that’s my secret. I’ve built a flat out of cardboard,” she answered with a shake of the head.

“No, that doesn’t make sense, because how does a girl like you get an invite to a party for Vogue. They must have thought you were pretty or something,” Liam wondered, his tone switched from joking to genuine. “You did look really pretty that night. Hope that’s okay I say that.”

Olivia blushed and touched her cheek. “Yeah, that’s, uh, fine. Thanks. I hate to do this, but I’ve got to go. I’m about to walk into work.”

“Oh right, I’m so sorry. I just wanted to say that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I ran into you at the party that night,” Liam explained. His voice shook nervously, like he was carefully thinking over what he wanted to say. “I was just wondering if you’d want to have dinner with me sometime soon?”

Olivia paused, watching the traffic roll down Regent Street. “Yes, love to.”

**

Going on a date with Liam was a lot harder than Olivia thought it’d be. It wasn’t the date itself, it was making plans for the date. Liam’s calendar was so packed that he was barely in London through the rest of October. When he happened to be back in the city, Olivia had a full day of meetings, popping into whatever SpaceNK called her name, and staying glued to her phone for conference calls.

They finally had their first date two days before Halloween. Olivia dressed carefully in all black but smart in her black skinnies that made her butt look good. Even though she had on her amazing jeans, she wasn’t sure how she felt about Liam. Being with him still felt like they’re were kids in school. But when he looked at her, she knew something was different.

Throughout their date, he was observant and cheeky. He kept Olivia laughing and smiling as they rehashed stories of their childhoods. Olivia was glued to his stories about travelling with One Direction and travelling solo. They covered so many topics that wove themselves around Liam and Olivia, it was impossible to tell where one started and the other ended.

By the end of the night, they’d ended up at a bar Liam liked to go to because it was hidden amongst its competitors with a posh London crowd. Olivia noticed how relaxed he was when they were sat close in a round both, tucked away from bystanders. She realized once she got home that Liam didn't make her nervous like most dates did. Her shoulders usually shook from the anxiousness of a first date and figuring out the right thing to say. With Liam, she was tuned into him with her hand cupping the side of her face.

Their date ended by Liam dropping her at her flat and gave her a quick kiss good night, which left her with more questions than she had woken up with that morning.

**

October turned into November, leaving the cold weather hanging over London. It’s inhabitants bundled up in their coats, noses tucked behind scarves while they hurried wherever the tube took them. Two weeks passed before Olivia saw Liam again. She was jealous of his trip down to Australia where he was in shorts and t-shirts. Since their date, they talked once a day. The time zones were a bitch, making their conversations even more sporadic on top of all the work they were both swamped with.

However busy they were, Olivia started to getting excited whenever her phone went off with a message from Liam. Even though she was dying to jump up and down, she internalized her excitement and stayed focused on her work. While Liam was singing his way through Australia, Olivia was making appearances, talking skincare, and documenting her skin routines nightly on Instagram. Her Oyster card holder was starting to look worse for wear from how many times she slammed it down on the button.

Performing facials kept her mind off what was going on outside. She zoned in on cleansing her client’s skin, extracting and purifying god knows what toxins out. Olivia got to know her clients in their hour together, something they loved about her. She loved them for letting her tap, massage, and work products into their skin while massaging out any tension she had built up inside.

One afternoon, she’d just finished with a client and had another right behind. Her mobile started buzzing while she cleaned up her products and prepared for her next appointment.

“Hey Frannie, hate to rush you but I’ve got an appointment coming in in about ten minutes.”

“Bollocks, I was hoping you were free,” Frannie replied, the background noise so loud it made Olivia wince.

“Why? What’s up?” Olivia tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, moving on around the room.

“‘S nothing, just wanted to go into The White Company and be talked out of buying five of their Christmas candles. Oh, work gave me the holiday bits they sent out to the bloggers. You’ll die, the whole Calendula range is in here too,” Frannie said, her tone fill with excitement like Christmas had come early.

“Oh my God, if the mask is in there, can I please, please have it? I’ll be your flatmate forever,” Olivia pleaded, chuckling to herself.

“‘Course. But Liv, tell me not to go to The White Company-”

Olivia stopped listening when someone cleared their throat by the door, making her spin around from where she was standing. Liam looked back at her, a small grin on his face.

“Surprise,” he said, his grin growing by the second.

Olivia’s heart pounded, caught somewhere between surprise and confusion. “Frannie, I got to go.” She hung up quickly, cutting off her best friend. “What...what are you doing here?”

“I’m your last appointment, thought you’d be happy to do a friend. I mean, uh, give me a facial,” Liam explained, blushing.

Olivia stifled a giggle behind her hand, her mind still reeling over Liam’s sudden appearance and how she felt about the whole thing. However foggy her brain was, she still knew she had to treat Liam like a client and take care of him like she would anyone else. But this time, she was more gradual and broke out of her calm, monotone-like voice.

As Liam settled into the massage chair, Olivia tugged on her top and ruffled her hair.

Why didn’t I think to wear more eyeliner today?

“So, how was Australia?” Olivia asked, stepping up behind Liam and running her hands over his skin. It was surprisingly soft with minimal texture until she got to his line of scruff. She let him talk while she felt his skin, murmuring when she needed to, assessing his skin along the way.

“Right,” she said a few minutes later once she’d made her decision about what she wanted to use on him. She could smell his cologne on him the minute her fingers touched his face, enveloping her so powerfully she forgot where serums went in a routine. “I’m going to cleanse your face, use this oxygenating facial machine, suck all the guck out of your face, pat in a serum, then moisturizer, and then we’re done.”

“Hold on, you’re going to do what with a what machine?” Liam asked incredulously, trying to sit up but Olivia forced him right back down.

“Pull all the crap out from flying and travelling and God knows what you come in contact with in this city. Now, sit back and let me do this,” she prodded his shoulder again with her fingers. She ignored his wince and dampened his skin, getting right to work.

She found her rhythm, even though Liam’s voice, face, and presence kept getting in her way. He talked and so did she, but when she did, she tripped over her words. Liam’s presence was making her heart race mildly and all he was doing was laying in a chair with her hands on his face.

While she powered on the oxygenating machine, she told Liam about her life for the past two weeks. She couldn’t tell if she was boring him with the details of what she’d done day to day but her focus on the machine made her forget about it.

They moved through the rest of the facial easily, an easy flow ebbed between them. Olivia was particularly proud of how radiant Liam’s skin looked when she was done. She’d pulled so much dirt out of his face that she was thinking about making him get facials monthly.

“So, I want to ask you something,” she stated, taking a seat on the rolling chair near him. Her heart was hammering in her chest but she ignored it.

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you come here today? Of all places after a 20-something hour flight from Australia,” she asked, crossing her legs. The question had been burning in her mind somewhere back during his facial and she still couldn’t figure it out. Why?

The corner of Liam’s mouth twitched, she could tell he was trying to think. “‘Cos I wanted to see you. Heard you were gonna be here today, so I just worked my way in as your last appointment.”

He wanted to see her. He wanted to see her. He could have just Facetimed her at any point but no, he chose to show up and let her run her hands all over his face for an hour and a half. He was either really stupid or just a really nice guy. Olivia hoped it was the last one.

“Well, I’m glad you came. At least you didn’t whine during the oxygenating part. Some people tear up at the pressure, big babies,” she responded with a nod. Slapping her knees, she got off the seat and started to clean up.

“My skin feels amazing. Holy shit, I should have gotten one of these years ago. Thanks OP, you’re the greatest.” He ran his hands over his face, admiring himself in the mirror on the wall.

Olivia snickered when she glanced over her shoulder. She started cleaning up and clearing away the products she used. She had four bottles in her arms when Liam came around the corner and gave her a hug.

“Thanks again, I had fun,” Liam muttered into her hair. She felt his chin rest on the top of her head, her heart was racing against her chest and she wiggled away from Liam, worried he might have felt it too.

“No problem at all. Thanks for letting me run my hands all over your face,” she grinned, looking up at Liam.

“So I’ll see you soon? I should be around for a few weeks before December, let’s do something, yeah?” Liam asked, gathering up his mobile and wallet.

Olivia nodded, already moving on. “Sure.”

She turned back to her products, clearing away the goods as Liam excused himself.

**

If Olivia thought Liam was going to move on and forget about her, she was wrong. He texted and called once or twice after his facial. Once was to thank her again for what she’d done to his face and the second was to get a list of the products she’d used on his face. Frannie’d been up her ass about locking him down and saying hysterical things like Liam was in love with her.

Olivia started to ignore Liam’s calls and texts, telling herself it was because of how busy she was. When she did reply, it was a half-assed apology about how hard she’d been working lately. Thankfully Liam was a good person who also had a demanding career and completely understood. His understanding was like a knife in Olivia’s heart that followed her around, nagging her with the recurring reminder of what an awful person she was.

She liked Liam. She enjoyed spending time with him. He reminded her of a simpler time, when they were kids and Liam aspired to be a singer and Olivia just wanted to pass her GCSEs one day. She’d become too independent since her last boyfriend. She couldn’t hop around from guy to guy like Frannie seemed to do every week. Olivia had too much pride to just let herself give into a boy and risk losing her independence.

**

Two weeks before December, Liam was sitting in Olivia’s living room. She’d been busy all day typing up a massive post for Black Friday and in her frenzy, she’d invited Liam over instead of going out for a drink with him. She’d quickly changed out of the joggers she’d had on all day and brushed her hair before Liam showed up. Of course he looked perfect and soft in some way in his jumper and jeans.

Liam followed Olivia through her flat, leaning against her countertop once they reached the kitchen.

“So, I did a massive order from Wagamama ‘cos one I didn’t know what you liked so I just basically ordered half the menu and two someone gifted me a voucher and I couldn't use it by myself. Cool?” She didn’t really care if he disagreed because either way, she was going to eat her weight in Wagamama.

Liam nodded, stretching his arms above his head. “Good with me. I’ve been eating like shit on the road so what’s another night?”

Olivia smirked. She took in Liam’s appearance properly while he looked around her tiny kitchen. Other than his outfit, he looked tired. Olivia could tell travelling had gotten to him by the look of the shadowy purple tones under his eyes and there were a few dry patches on his cheeks. He needed some moisturizer and probably a lot of sleep.

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, observing the photos and nicknacks on the fridge.

“Erm, maybe almost a year? Before Frances, my flatmate, and I used to live in this absolute cupboard over a pub for a year. It was awful. We were dead lucky to find this place though ‘cos it just sort of fell into our laps.” Olivia gestured towards the large window that took up a corner of the kitchen. “We even lucked out for a window. I never realized how important natural lighting is until I lived alone.”

Liam laughed, glancing her way and making her heart melt inside her chest. Just one look was all it took for some strange lovey dovey feeling to come alive in her chest. The feeling and thoughts alone made her swallow and push down any of those warm emotions.

“So, where is it all?” Liam asked a few seconds later, glancing around the flat.

Olivia’s eyebrows went up. “Where’s what?”

Liam nodded towards her. “You know...all your...stuff. The skincare. Where do you keep it?”

Olivia’s face relaxed and she let out a breathy laugh. “God, I had no idea what you were talking about. But I keep most of it in my bedroom. Do you really care to see?”

Liam nodded eagerly. “Oh you bet.”

She ended up giving him a tour of the flat on the way. Not that it took long to get to her room down the hall. She pointed out the living room where there was a large sectional sofa, the biggest Olivia and Frannie could fit, and a dining table set up in front of the windows. They had another squishy armchair next to the sofa with a coffee table in front. Along the wall was another piece of furniture that held decorative knick knacks carefully arranged by the girls along with photos of themselves, friends, and family over the years.

Olivia said a prayer for cleaning her room the day before because the state of it would have embarrassed her right out her front door. Her hands shook slightly when Liam followed her into her room, anticipation making her fingertips twitch.

“So, there’s my desk where I sit for hours typing emails and debating how fast I could fall to my death out my window,” she pointed towards a white desk from Ikea that took her three hours to build with zero help from Frannie, who was more of a peanut gallery of mocking. It was carefully arranged and organized down to the tiny plate Olivia found at Anthropologie that held a hand cream, lip balm, another lip balm, a couple hair ties, and a tiny Jo Malone hand & body cream. She had a telly set up against the wall facing her bed with her dresser underneath where she kept t-shirts, pajamas, and other bits she could fold up into drawers.

On either side of her bed were wardrobes that nearly reached the ceiling. They were the selling point of Liv’s room and Frannie practically forced her to take the room because of them. Olivia had to agree that they were an asset when it came to her job.

“And over here….is where I keep everything,” Olivia explained, crossing the room quickly to the wardrobe on the right and throwing open the doors. She chose the wardrobe on the right for easier access for a product if she was typing up a post at her desk. Occasionally she got a wild hair and pulled everything out of the wardrobe, spread it around her room, and organized it all over again.

“Holy….shit....OJ,” Liam breathed, his eyes scanning the shelves full of products. Meticulously organized and arranged, Liv had a place for everything. Liam noticed in the corner of each shelf was some tape with words written on them to let Olivia know what was stored on each of them. There was more organization from bins, trays, boxes, and mini drawer sets for Olivia to keep track of everything.

Liam was speechless. He didn’t have a clue where to look or what he was even seeing. “Olivia, this is wild.”

Her eyebrows went up, a slight frown appeared on her face.

“What I mean is, this is incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so organized and neat.” Liam scratched the back of his head. “I mean, I don’t really have the foggiest about what I’m looking at.”

She laughed, holding her hands behind her back. “I try to keep it all together...or else it gets really out of hand real fast. Let me show you part of it.”

She explained how she kept the wardrobe of skincare organized and the different areas of each shelf. Through her explanation, Liam creeped closer towards her out of instinct to follow her every move. He was mesmerized by her, even when she was talking about some eye cream with Vitamin C. He thought Vitamin C was only in orange juice.

When the doorbell went, they both jumped. Olivia turned her head and found herself inches from Liam’s ear. She sucked in a breath while staring at the back of Liam’s head when he glanced towards the sound of the noise.

“Oh, guess we should get that then,” Liam commented, turning back towards Olivia.

They were almost nose to nose, Olivia’s height made her a couple inches shorter than Liam but close enough to brush his skin. She could see every pore on his cheeks, the softness of his scruff and the fullness of his pink lips. “Yeah, I guess we should,” she agreed, glancing at his mouth. Swiftly, she moved around him and left him standing in front of her wall of skincare.

**

“Don’t you have a flatmate? Where is she?” Liam asked once they hauled in three giant bags of food from the takeaway guy. They stood side by side, unpacking and surveying what Olivia picked.

“Yeah, she’s out with her flavor of the week,” Olivia said with a snort. She turned away from Liam to pull some plates out of the cabinet.

Turning back, Liam faced her with his hand outstretched. “Did you just say ‘flavor of the week?’” His eyebrows furrowed as he took the plates from her.

Olivia leaned against the counter, palms supporting her. “Yep, she hops from guy to guy typically. Tries them out and if they get too clingy, she ghosts them.”

Frannie was a major serial dater. Olivia knew she always had been but as long as she didn’t try to bring some skivvy guy back to their flat, Liv let her live.

“What about you?” Liam asked pointedly, his back still to her. “Do you hop from guy to guy?”

Olivia paused, observing the way Liam’s t-shirt hung off his back, hugging each muscle like it was made for him. “No, can’t say I care that much.”

Liam turned around, a slight smirk on his lips. “Hm, I see. Why don’t you care?”

She shrugged, waving a hand through the air. “I’ve got better things to do than mess with relationships. A date once in a while is nice but I can’t be bothered with the faff in relationships. Anyways, should we eat?”

They ended up moving all their takeaway containers into the living room, spread out across Olivia’s coffee table like a massive plastic container feast. Olivia and Liam spent ten minutes arguing over what to watch before she whacked him with the remote and ended up putting on Crazy, Stupid, Love. He removed his jumper at some point, Olivia’s flat was awfully cozy compared to the chilly December night outside.

Olivia was torn between wanting to watch the movie and talking to Liam. She cared too much about Ryan Gosling on screen to listen to Liam but once Liam caught her eye she forgot about Ryan completely. There was something about Liam that Olivia kept trying to pin down. She had a feeling it had to do with how confidently he carried himself while still being so down to earth and humble. She noticed the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled and laughed when she shushed him for talking.

“Hey, I’ve been using all that stuff you told me to buy after my facial,” Liam whispered carefully, trying not to get shushed again.

Olivia’s eyebrows went up, intrigue in her eyes. “Yeah?! Do you like it?”

“Absolutely! I don’t always use that cream but I like washing my face. I feel so clean after,” he put his hands on his cheeks. “So fresh.”

Olivia leaned over, abandoning her plate. “Lemme see that skin of yours.”

“‘S all yours,” he replied with a grin.

She leaned over, observing his skin. Only the dialogue on the telly filled the silence but they didn’t notice. Olivia forgot what she was doing and how her hand was on Liam’s thigh so she could steady herself.

“Sorry,” Olivia breathed, lifting her hand and returning it to her lap.

Liam cleared his throat, adjusting himself. “Don’t be. Y’know...you could stay.”

Olivia cocked an eyebrow and her heart thumped in her ears. Liam wanted her to sit by him? Why? What did this mean? Why did she suddenly want to so badly?

“Maybe then I’ll focus on the movie rather than staring at you every two seconds,” Liam admitted, scratching his nose.

Olivia smiled, then she swiped a pillow nearby and hit him with it. “You’re so stupid. But smart too.”

She laid the pillow up against the cushions and moved over towards Liam. He lifted one arm, letting her squeeze in against him. She tried to ignore her heart racing in her chest that seemed to thump in her head too.

“What about you?” Olivia whispered as Steve Carell creeped around his backyard cutting the grass. Olivia kept having an argument in her head between wanting to ask about Liam’s dating life and leaving it alone. Either way she had every right to know. They were friends, right?

“What about me?” Liam replied, his lips close enough to her ear that she could feel the heat of his breath.

“Your dating life. Are you seeing anyone?” She asked, adjusting her position against his chest.

“I was a year or so ago but not anymore. But I’m not seeing anyone, no.” She felt his chest rise and fall beneath her, steady breaths while her heart picked up the pace.

They didn’t say much for the rest of the movie. They continued to watch Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone go back and forth on screen. While the two had obvious chemistry on screen, Olivia was moulding herself into Liam’s body, growing more comfortable by the second. Even though her eyes were getting heavy, she felt utterly relaxed and content against Liam’s torso. She let him wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and her hand rested on his knee. Her eyes started to droop and she barely remembered seeing Steve Carrell and Ryan Gosling yelling on screen.

**

The next morning it took Olivia a few minutes of waking up and realizing she’d slept in her contacts before she realized that she was squished in the sofa between Liam’s elbow and the sofa cushions. When she came to, she jumped at the sight of Liam asleep on his back, mouth slightly ajar. She watched him sleep for a few seconds before extracting herself out of the sofa equation and practically rolled over the back of the sofa.

Down the hall, she shut herself in the toilet, a million thoughts racing in her head. As she tore off some toilet roll, she wondered Why did Liam stay? Washing her hands she pondered how she was going to get him out. Drying her hands and opening the door, part of her felt like she didn’t want him to leave. She was strangely okay with him being in her presence, her space that she worked so hard to perfect and make into a home for her and Frannie.

Waking him up wasn’t going to be a problem since he was sitting up when Liv walked back into the room. She jumped at the sight, pausing to watch him stretch his muscular tattooed arms over his head and ruffle his hair.

A floorboard creaked when Liv stepped on it and Liam looked around, a sleepy grin on his face. “Morning, soz I fell asleep.”

Liv shrugged, her heart melting at his puppy dog eyes and soft smile. “‘S okay. Dunno where Frannie is, she’s obvo not in her room.”

“Worried what she’d say if she found me?” Liam asked, peering at Olivia through tired eyes. His skin looked soft and plump this early in the morning. The morning light hit his cheekbone in just the right way that most skincare users died for.

“No, I don’t think so,” Liv sat down and shrugged. “She’d probably give me hell for it.”

Liam watched her laugh and run a hand haphazardly through her hair, attempting to look relaxed. He’d been around his sisters enough to know when they were putting on an act.

“Well, I’m starving and I’m guessing you are too because I’m sure I just heard your stomach growl,” Liam pointed out.

Olivia looked around with guilt, but he was right. God, she was starving. It was like she hadn’t ate her weight in Wagamama the night before. Her insides were jumping at the idea of having brunch with Liam which didn’t help the butterflies in her stomach.

“I’ve got the best place around the corner,” she said with a grin.

**

Twenty minutes later they were sat across from one another in the tiny cafe that served brunch all day, cold pressed juices, and fresh baked pastries. Olivia scratched at her arm, even though it really didn’t itch and glanced around the room to give her something to do. She already knew what she wanted, but she was giving Liam a chance to mull over the menu first.

“Do you know what you’re going to get?” He asked, glancing up at her.

“Pancakes. American style with blueberries.” Her stomach rumbled at the mention.

Liam hummed. “Tempting, I’m going more of the protein way. Eggs, bacon, maybe some toast.”

Olivia’s eyebrows went up. “Protein? Since when are you Mr. Fitness?”

He scoffed, “I work out. I go to the gym regularly.”

“Oh I know, I see your Insta stories,” Olivia mumbled, looking down at her menu nonchalantly. She flicked her gaze up to Liam’s face, surprised to find him with a small cheeky grin on his face.

“Do you follow me? Do you like what I post?” He was openly honest and curious, but the grin on his face showed how pleased he was to know Olivia followed him on Instagram. He was awful at the app himself. He only figured out how to follow people a few months ago.

Olivia shrugged. “Maybe. You’re a little heavy on the selfies but I like them.”

They continued to go back and forth about Instagram. Olivia kept giving him a hard time about what he posted and how he had no clue about how picky people were with their content. He joked that she took it too seriously and how he barely knew how to work the app alone. They placed their orders along the way, hurrying back to their conversation that made them laugh and exchange secret smiles that made them feel like they were the only ones in the restaurant.

The more Olivia explained what she did for work, the more Liam got an idea of how hard she worked. Even though it seemed like she was just on her phone all day, Olivia did way more research and reading of her statistics and numbers than Liam ever realized. He could only relate when it came to the sales behind his singles and all the records he put out with One Direction. He did still didn’t believe how well they did in the five years they were together.

They ate their food, Olivia and her pancakes and Liam with his plate of eggs and bacon. Once they paid the bill, which Liam slid his card into before Olivia could grab her wallet. From there, they started to wonder through the streets of Kensington. The conversation continued steadily, every once in a while Olivia felt an inexplicable wave past through her. It washed over her when Liam looked at her with a smile on his lips. She felt it again when they walked into a shop and he placed his hand on the small of her back as another couple passed by them.

She kept her hands stowed in the pockets of her coat since it was cold for the sunny December day. Olivia was thankful there was no wind today to mess up her hair and it end up in her mouth when she talked. She hated the wind, it always got her hair stuck in her lip gloss or half blind when her hair blew in her face.

They came upon Hyde Park after stopping in a local coffee shop Olivia loved. She was thankful for the heat from her oat milk latte since the wind had kicked up a bit once they hit the park. Liam was smart and dug a beanie out of his coat when they got to the shop. She loved how the ends of his hair stuck out beneath the edge.

“I like your hair long you know,” Olivia confessed, their arms bumping here and there.

“Really? I was worried I needed to shave it again,” Liam said, sipping on his cappuccino. Olivia questioned his coffee choice in the shop at first, making him explain that he didn’t like a lot of espresso in his lattes so then he changed to a cappuccino.

“No! You look good with a full head of hair.” Olivia ducked her head, trying to figure out why her cheeks felt so hot all of a sudden.

Liam smiled, “Thanks.”

Olivia smiled before changing the subject. “You know I’ve always loved parks. That’s something I miss about Wolverhampton. The loveliest parks were right in town, remember?”

He nodded, glancing around the surrounding trees and grassy fields. “Yeah, I used to spend hours there in the summer when I was a kid.”

“I’m glad I live close to Hyde Park. I like to come walk through here sometimes to get ideas for my blog or clear my head if I’ve been looking at a computer screen too long. There’s something about the vastness of a park and how it should seem so intimidating...but it’s more relaxing to know that this belongs to everyone y’know? And it’s something we all use for a different reason. I love that,” Olivia explained. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear that escaped, sighing when they got to one of her favorite parts of the park.

One thing Olivia loved about Hyde Park was how the leaves fell and swirled around the park. They shifted once they fell and moved as people moved through the park day after day. The orange and brown tones of fallen leaves accented the matte black leather of her Chelsea boots, making Olivia feel like a walking aesthetic.

“Do you want a picture for your Instagram?” Liam asked a foot away. He stopped to watch Olivia admire the park, admiring her instead.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “How’d you know that?”

Liam shrugged. “I could just tell. Plus, who doesn’t want a photo surrounded by all this?” He waved his arms, gesturing to the green surroundings and falling leaves.

“Okay, but take a few of me, will you? Make them good.” Olivia said, handing over her iPhone.

Ten minutes later, Liam laughed as Olivia scrolled through the pictures he took. Her faced was screwed up in concentration as she pinched and zoomed in before deleting the ones she didn’t like.

“Are they good? Do I need to take twenty more?” Liam asked dryly.

Liv rolled her eyes, glancing up at him from her mobile. “No, I like them just fine.”

He came towards her, grinning as he looked over her shoulder. She looked picture perfect against the dying leaves on the ground and the grassy field to the side. He nudged shoulders with hers. “I like them too.”

She looked up, surprised to find Liam’s face so close to hers. His eyes met hers, noticing how her eyes had flicks of gold and green against the brown irises. She bit her lip, scanning his face as her heart hammered in her ears.

“We should probably keep moving. It’s getting chilly,” she muttered, turning back to her phone and stepping away from Liam.

**

Olivia hadn’t talked to Liam in a week since they hung out in the park. The rest of their walk went fine. They started up their conversation again as they moved towards the edge of the park to head back to Olivia’s flat. Liam figured he needed to head home and quit overstaying his welcome. Olivia was grateful since she knew Frannie would probably return at any second and she dreaded explaining why Liam was still at hers at 3 o’clock on a Sunday.

Since then, Liam started texting her almost daily. He took off for a week in the States for some Christmas concerts but he sent her a text here and there to check in. While her schedule was busy too, her only excuse for icing Liam out, she sent half as many texts as Liam. She kept it short and friendly, not letting her emotions get the best of her and type out four messages like she normally did to Frannie.

Frannie found out Liam spent the night the next weekend when she discovered he’d left his jumper stuffed into their sofa. She resembled the Cheshire Cat when Liv chased her around the living room trying to take the jumper from her.

“When will you give him a chance? Liv, he’s obvo crazy about you,” Frannie tried to reason with Olivia but it was obvious that her best friend was seeing blind when it came to her love life. Frannie may have been a hot mess when it came to boys but at least she owned it. Olivia was precious and deserved someone who would treat her right. Frannie also knew Liv wasn’t some dainty flower to be admired, she needed someone to help her realize her own potential and how fuckign amazing she was.

“I-” Olivia opened her mouth out of defense but snapped it shut when her iPhone lit up on the table with Liam’s name on it. “Fuck off.”

Frannie snorted, watching her phone buzz again with Liam’s name. “I hate to say I told you so,” she sang. “Call me when you finally bone!” With that blunt statement, she left and retreated to her room.

**

A week later, Olivia kept up the same charade much to Frannie’s disapproval. She wrote twice as many blog posts from the comfort of her room or coffee shop in town whenever she had free time. Olivia kept her mind off Liam and how her heart skipped a beat at the thought by focusing on her train and the stop she needed to get off at before she attended another event. She ignored the itch to text Liam about her frustration to find something to wear to the BAFTAs the next night, knowing he would relate to how she felt. She’d caught sight of his latest post on Instagram that morning, liking it quickly before scrolling further down.

By the next night, she’d completely forgotten Liam may be at the awards too. She was too preoccupied with her boobs not popping out of the navy blue floor length dress she’d ordered off ASOS at the last minute from their fancy dress section. The thin spaghetti straps kept threatening to slide off her shoulders if she didn’t stand up straight and her eye started to twitch every time the buckle on her strappy heels rubbed against her skin.

She could have been naked on the red carpet and completely unaware when she saw Liam. He was ten feet away in a black suit that hugged every muscle he worked so diligently for in the gym. She instantly spotted his tattoos on his hands poking out of the coat pockets, sending her heart into overdrive. Blinking, she snapped back to attention of the blokes taking her picture. She blushed, shaking her wavy hair back out and staring back at the camera. Olivia kept glancing over her shoulder in Liam’s direction, as if she had some sort of turrets that made her only look at him. She was grateful when the paps were done taking her picture and she could retreat inside the venue.

Inside the giant hall where the awards were being held, elaborately decorated round tables were scattered across the floor. Glasses of all sizes were arranged on the tabletops along with gold place cards and hefty gift bags in each seat. Guests and honorees were milling about inside, already buzzing from the champagne flutes that were floating through the crowd at the hand of various waiters.

Olivia grabbed a flute as soon as she could, draining in it three gulps and trading it for another. She moved into the middle of the room where she spotted some of her blogger friends, who looked like they’d walked out of a magazine spread. They gushed over Olivia’s dress and even more when they found out where she’d got it. Joking about linking her dress below, she felt considerably more relaxed than she had outside.

She caught sight of Liam once she sat down at her table full of bloggers. He was three tables away with the Editor in Chief of British Vogue, Jourdan Dunn, and Winnie Harlow. He was even more dashing in his suit with a flute of champagne in his hand. Olivia looked away when Liam glanced in her direction. Praying he didn’t see her and try to talk to her, she turned towards one of her friends and started babbling about how hungry she was and if it’d be rude to order Postmates in the middle of the awards.

The awards passed by quickly. Olivia switched from champagne to water once the hor devours arrived. She had started snacking on the Charbonnel chocolates inside her gift bag at one point. She applauded loudly when Winnie Harlow won model of the year, noticing how Liam stood up to clap for her too. She was at a loss for words when Lucy Williams stopped by their table to chat up another blogger sitting across from her. She begged her friend to introduce them at the afterparty.

For the afterparty, the guests relocated to a club down the road that was decorated the same as the awards hall. Olivia once again found herself in search of someone to talk to while sipping on champagne again.

“Hey, did I see you at the awards earlier or did you just come to the afterparty for the champagne?”

Olivia froze, glancing up at Liam slowly. Her heart sped up when her eyes landed on his, the corners wrinkled as he smiled down at her. “I go wherever there’s free champagne.”

“You look amazing OJ,” he said immediately, bypassing the casualties. He was relieved she was here. He wasn’t totally sure he’d seen her at the awards earlier in the same stunning, cleavage-baring gown she had on in front of him.

Olivia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. This is quite a change from jeans and a jumper,” she commented, observing his suit up close. She could see it had velvet lapels that created a bit of contrast against the fine material of his jacket.

He backed up, putting his hands on his hips. “How’d you like it? I’m hoping GQ will get in touch tonight.”

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Don’t know about GQ but I know they’ll be a bunch of wankers if you don’t make the best dressed list.” When he lit up, she waved a finger in his face. “Don’t be getting an inflated ego now. You look nice, that’s all.”

Liam shook his shoulders back and forth. “You think I look handsome. Just admit it.”

“I’m getting a champagne, cheers,” she said dismissively, waving him off. Her whole body felt hot and her heart quickened like she’d just sprinted a large field. Sports weren’t her thing but God she felt like she’d just raced Usain Bolt.

“If I find us a bottle, would you step away with me?” Liam asked lowly. He stepped closer, his lips hovering against her hairline.

Olivia stared ahead at nothing in particular, remembering how she turned away in the park. Swallowing her inhibitions, she looked up at him and nodded.

Not five minutes later, Olivia slid her hand into Liam’s and followed him along a hall. He swiped a champagne bottle after slipping a bartender a note. They wandered along a hall that was lined with expensive private lounges that were usually rented out by those only with black Amexs and a want for the most expensive champagne, stopping only when they found one unlocked.

Olivia adjusted herself in her dress and nervously messed with her hair while Liam opened the bottle of champagne. When the cork came out, it came with a mighty ‘pop!’ that sent them into hysterics. The music from the main room muffled the sound but still made them check the door nervously. One wall of their lounge had a large window that looked down into the main room, but with the curtains drawn, all Olivia and Liam could see was the glow of the lights below.

“God, I never imagined myself here,” Olivia remarked as she watched Liam pour her a generous flute.

He poured one for himself, sneaking a glance at her. He’d been in plenty of clubs, attended more parties than he could remember, but being at a party with Olivia was different from any other event he had been to. She watched everything with a wide eyed curiosity that she internalized cooly. He could tell she felt out of her element but she pulled it off spectacularly.

“Y’know, when I had to go to these sort of things when I started out in the band, I hated them. I absolutely felt like I was an outsider. Other than the fact I was like, seventeen or eighteen give a few, it wasn’t my scene,” he explained, resting against the back of a sofa nearby.

“How’d you deal with them? Don’t you like to party?” she asked, coming to rest next to him. The sofa was a short one that was more impractical than anything. It was meant for casual lounging in a club where no one was going to make themselves too comfortable.

Liam sighed. “I used to. In the band it was easy ‘cos I had nothing else to do when I wasn’t working or like, touring, y’know. The lads loved to go out too when we could. But once we went on hiatus, I kinda went to a bad place because I didn’t know what to do with my life next.” His fingers ran along his jawline where scruff was littered in a thick layer. “I just realized in the last year with making music again that I like writing with a clear head and not a hangover the next morning. It’s funny ‘cos people think my music paints me as a party boy or whatever but I’m not like that as much anymore.”

Olivia rested her hand on the back, her fingers grazing Liam’s. “That’s a lot to go through in a short amount of time. I still don’t know how you did all that in like, five years.”

“Yeah, yeah it was mad,” he said with a shake of his head. He said it with a tone of wistfulness, like he was seeing something Olivia couldn’t. She felt that passion and nostalgia sitting next to her, and it pulled her closer to him.

He turned towards her, sensing how she’d closed the distance between the two. He leaned in like they were magnets that were meant to be pulled together. As if he knew what to do next, he dropped his empty glass on the sofa and slid his fingers into her hair, drawing in her. Olivia kissed him, closing the gap and sending fireworks through her head.

She leaned into him, wanting his hands all over her. She loved how his large hands gripped her face and the curve of her waist. The strap of her dress started to slide down when she leaned forward to hold onto him. Liam’s hands were in her hair as he pressed further into her mouth, making it difficult to tell where she began and he ended.

Their kisses grow more intense with a steady rhythm, like they were meant to be doing this all along. Liam was breathing her name in her ear anytime they broke apart, sending her heart racing in her chest.

Suddenly, Olivia’s heart nearly stops. Her stomach dips when she breaks their kiss, breathing hard. Their foreheads touch and Olivia realizes Liam’s breathing nearly as hard as she has.

“God...God Liv you’re amazing...why’d...why’d you stop?” Liam asked, breaking their contact to stare at her. Her hair’s a bit wild from having his hands in it but her lips are dark pink from his kisses.

Olivia blinked, her eyes were starting to grow hot, fogging her vision. “I don’t...I don’t know. I’ve….I’ve got to go,” she said suddenly, straightening up and bunching her dress in her hand. “Liam, I’m sorry.”

She hurried out of the room, ignoring Liam’s calls behind her. Tears started to fall the minute she hit the hallway, making her rush even quicker towards the exit. No one paid the crying girl any mind as she rushed past the party where normal people were getting drunk and loving life. Instead, she walked away from it all and slid into the back of one of the various waiting cars outside. Wiping the back of her hand across her face, she mumbled her address and sat back in the cab and cried.

**

Liv, I hope you’re alright. Dunno what happened but if you want to talk to me, I’ll be home until New Year’s Eve. Liam xx

Hey, hope you’re alright, just checking in

Saw your blog post today, would love to talk to you before I go away for New Year’s

Happy New Year Olivia, thinking of you x

**

Olivia was in a state. She’d turned on her out of office reply on her inbox as soon as she finished her last project of the year. She’d queued up the rest of the year’s blog posts and shut herself off from social media. The only thing she was keeping up with was her skincare routine, but even that was suffering.

Frannie grew more concerned by the days leading up to Christmas. Olivia didn’t say much about the after party except that she wanted nothing to do with the gift bag that showed up at their door the next day because she’d left it at the club.

She still wasn’t sure of what had happened to Olivia when they left for Christmas but she figured it had to do with Liam since she’d caught sight of his name popping up on Liv’s phone from time to time. His messages went ignored and unanswered.

Olivia didn’t know what happened either or why she ran away. She played it over and over in her mind when she laid in bed at night, wide awake with some inescapable knot sitting in her stomach. She knew it was her fault, she was at least sure of that. Guilt sat on her shoulders and followed her around when she glimpsed Liam’s unanswered texts in her messages app. She even opened their chat sometimes and typed out a reply or even an apology but then she’d erase it and welcome the pit of emptiness back in her stomach.

Christmas came and went and Olivia returned to London with her head up. She was coming to terms that she fucked up with Liam but accepted things happened for a reason. She’d get past it and cross into the New Year with a new outlook. She’d find that feeling Liam gave her elsewhere, hopefully in the new content she’d dreamed up on the train back to London from Wolverhampton. She and Frannie spent New Year’s together at a house party thrown by a friend of Frannie’s. She shared a kiss with some random bloke at midnight and swallowed down more champagne whenever she wished Liam was the one kissing her when the ball dropped.

One night however, she met her resolve. While cleaning out her closet one evening when Frannie was on her way home from work, Olivia dug out Liam’s forgotten jumper. She swallowed hard, remembering how she’d tossed it in her closet before she’d left for home. Part of her hoped it would have been buried under some PR package and forgotten until she moved out of the flat one day. Clearly fate had something else in mind as she clutched the soft material in her hands, the scent of Liam’s cologne wafting up and stirring up all the feelings Liv had spent days repressing.

Frannie came home thirty minutes later, grumbling about work aloud to the flat, but her arms weighed down with stuff from work. When she didn’t receive Olivia’s usual reassuring response, Frannie peered into the living room and found her best friend staring off into the distance with a Bake Off rerun on Channel 4.

“Liv, you okay?” she asked, stepping cautiously towards her. She noticed she was clutching something dark to her chest. “Liv, talk to me.”

Olivia shook her head, looking down at the jumper in her lap. A single tear rolled down her nose and hit the jumper. “It’s Liam’s. He left his jumper here and I fucked up. I didn’t get it back to him. I ran. I just forgot and I ran away.”

Frannie’s brow furrowed, piecing together whatever sense Olivia was trying to make. “Okay...you forgot to give Liam his jumper...no sweat. I’m sure he’s got loads more cashmere at home.”

Olivia snorted, although it was snottier than normal from her crying. “If only it was that easy.”

“Liv, please, can you tell me what happened between you two? Then maybe I’ll understand why you’re clutching a hundred pound jumper like it’s your lifeline.” Frannie turned down the telly, rubbing Olivia’s back.

Olivia looked at Frances, her eyes were red from crying and her cheeks blotchy. Her hair was twisted up into some sort of bun that resembled a bird’s nest from laying down for so long. She sighed and wiped her nose. “I fucked up Frannie. He was right there and I ran away.” She sniffled. “We ran into each other at the BAFTAs and eventually started talking at the afterparty. God, he was so fit. He invited me to one of those private lounges to talk or whatever,” she wiped her nose again.

“Everything was fine. We started talking about something to do with partying or some rubbish.” Olivia paused, recalling how the soft lighting of the lounge cast a warm glow over Liam’s skin. She was starting to become so proud of how Liam was taking care of his skin over the past couple weeks. “Then, I don’t know, I really wanted to snog him. Like, badly.”

“And did you?” Frannie asked, leaning towards her.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she smiled. “Yes and it was amazing. We were really getting into it and Frannie, my God, his hands. I hadn’t felt like that in ages.” She bit her lip, pausing her story. “But then, a part of me shut down. I didn’t want to be there anymore. I wanted to run away and get away from everything. It hurt me to leave and to know I left Liam high and dry behind me. And I just don’t know what to do now.”

Frannie sighed, patting her best friend’s sweatpant-clad knee. “Sounds like you’re in love. Not to be blunt but my love, you’ve got it. What you’ve found is something everyone searches for in life. That kind of love that pulls you together and you feel that pain when you’re apart.”

Olivia glared at her, tears silently rolling down her face.

“Glare at me all you want, but you know I’m right. I think you scared yourself straight and it made you bolt. I know you’re tough Liv, and independent as hell but you deserve to have someone love you the way Liam probably does. And it’s okay to be scared, this is the unknown for you.” Frannie leaned back against the sofa cushions, smirking victoriously.

“Why are you smirking like that? I’m a mess,” Olivia asked, wiping away under her eyes. She felt better from venting to Frannie but she was annoyed with how smug her best friend looked. She still felt like shit with no idea if she and Liam would ever come back from this.

“Because it’s fun to see you out of your element. Don’t get me wrong, I hate seeing you in this depressed, hollowed out state when I have all this skincare to show you and I don’t think you’ll care. But, you’re going to get through this. I know you.”

Frannie was right. Olivia was strong and independent as hell. She followed her own path and knew what was best for everyone. It was about time she learned what was meant for her. So, that night, after sorting through Frannie’s Kiehl’s haul, she went to sleep restless again. This time, she knew what she needed to do, but first she had to figure it out.

**

Liam, I’m really sorry for what happened last month. It was awful of me to do, especially to you. I want to explain. Will you meet me by the fountain in Hyde Park? Hopefully you know the one, I’ll be there before the sun goes down. OJ x

She hoped signing her name with the nickname she had back in Wolverhampton softened him up a bit. Her heart hammered in her chest as she waited for a reply. She fell back against her bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to ignore her heartbeat in her ears. She wished Frannie was home to distract her and not doing her job.

Olivia continued to stare at the ceiling until her eyelids grew heavy. She started to give in when she stopped convincing herself that her phone was faux-vibrating.

She woke up when the light in her room was starting to turn from blue to brilliant reds, oranges, and purples. She glanced around her room, trying to remember why she was in bed. The disorienting feeling that naps gave her evaporated when her phone vibrated. She sat up bolt right in bed, clutching her phone in front of her.

A text from Liam looked back at her and she tried to steady her thumb before she opened it. He’d texted her three times, but she read the newest one.

Of course I know where to go. I’ll be there

Leaving my house now

Are you coming?

“Fuck!” She swore, launching herself out of bed and pulling on more layers to go outside. She hopped around, straightening her jumper and tugging on some old UGG boots she had stashed for cold winter evenings. She fiddled with her hair, tucking it and retucking it behind her ears before it inevitably came untucked from the mild wind outside.

She barely had her coat on when she hit the sidewalk, taking off towards Hyde Park. It was only a five minute walk but Olivia was worried and fueled with determination to find Liam before it was too late. She scrambled with everything she wanted to say before she found him, but it was all running together as she tried not to get hit by a car at the crosswalk.

The fountain was proper in the park, but not far enough that Olivia couldn’t make it out in the bright sunset setting over the park. Her eyes scanned the people around, trying to assume which one Liam might be.

Out of breath, she reached the outside of the fountain. Her eyes searched frantically for Liam’s familiar form, her heart crashing against her chest out of disappointment and exhaustion.

She was too late. She’d missed her chance to explain. To tell Liam she was in love with him.

“OJ! Olivia!”

Her heart leapt, revived with a familiar warmth that only Liam could make her feel. Spinning around, her eyes landed on him, standing on a nearby pathway.

She took off towards him, her coat flying out behind her. She could tell his eyes were smiling but he kept his mouth neutral. She didn’t care how he looked though, she was just relieved he was here. He wanted to give her a chance. Suddenly, everything was clear. She knew what she needed to do to show she was sorry.

Olivia collided with Liam seconds later, throwing her arms around his neck and praying he was as strong as he seemed. Her lips crashed against his, igniting the same fireworks in her head that she felt in the club. She was barely aware of his arms wrapping themselves around her waist and lifting her off the ground. She kissed him harder, pressing her tongue into his mouth. Her hands raked through the back of his hair, her body flush with his.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Liam,” she breathed. He lowered her to the ground, keeping her close to him. The light behind him was giving him an orange glow. “I shouldn’t have run away. I was stupid.”

Liam shook his head, his eyes searching hers. He was always looking for her, trying to figure her out and her next move. “Why did you?” He asked curiously.

Olivia sighed. “I was scared. Scared of accepting what I knew all along.”

Liam frowned, separating them a little. “What was that?”

She swallowed, glancing away before looking him right in the eye. “That I was in love with you. Ever since we ran into each other at that party, I wanted to kiss you but I was scared. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But I was scared of letting myself love someone else out of fear I’d fail.”

Her eyes grew hot as the words spilled out, but they were there. She had to accept her confession even if Liam didn’t. She couldn’t read Liam’s mind but she knew how she felt at least.

He sighed, his breath white against the cold air. “I was waiting for you to say that. God, I wanted to sweep you away the minute I found you by the bar. You were one of the only people who cared about me in high school and I still found that same person when we were at that party. Along the way, everything started to change and one morning I knew. Do you know when I knew?”

“Knew what?” Olivia asked, puzzled over his words. What was he talking about? She was only numbly aware that she couldn’t feel her fingers as the sun was going down.

“That I was in love with you too. That morning I woke up on your sofa and you were curled up around me like you belonged there. I realized before you left me that I wanted to wake up like that every morning.” He paused. “I love you, Olivia. I’ve waited to hear those words from you too.”

She pulled him back to her, letting his fingers slid up under her jumper. “I mean every word. I love you Liam, I always have.” She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, barely brushing them with hers. They shared a bubble of warmth as they made out in the park, the light fading fast behind them.

“Did you know you’re wearing my jumper? I was wondering where this went,” Liam noted, holding the material between his index and thumb.

Olivia looked down, realizing happily that the jumper she snatched in her room was the same one she’d cried into the night before. “You left it at my house...I guess I’ve been keeping it safe for you.”

Liam shook his head, ducking down to kiss her again. “It’s yours. I’m all yours.”

Olivia grinned, tipping her head back once more to kiss him. “Good, that’s all I’ve wanted.”