#golf on tv

[writingsfromhome]

Golf on TV

Ask: fluffy piece based on Lennon Stella’s Golf on TV (sorry I deleted the original ask but this song is so fluff so ty!)

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I wake up to the bed made, for a second I don’t know where I am. My sleep-addled brain tries to catch up to the present moment. The present morning.

I was in bed, in my new home. It was Saturday morning.

Last night had been a late one. I was the co-lead in an intense case at work and the plaintiff’s team had been smoking our ass in court. Last night we’d gotten boxes of newly admitted evidence and every single person stayed well into the AM to sort it out. The other side liked to play dirty and this is how they did it. Little did they know we’d found our smoking gun. Never underestimate Stewart, Stone, and Nowak.

But I’d gotten home and passed out on the couch. Well, I’d gotten home to Harry passed out on the couch with the TV on. He must have tried staying up for me even though I had told him to go home. But he stayed.

I remember the tension leaving my body just seeing him snuggled on the couch, his face a kaleidoscope of colours reflecting off from the TV. I’d met Harry less than a year ago, a meet cute moment where both of us had gone for the same taxi. He’d waved me in like a gentleman and I’d invited him to share it. Turns out we were only going a few blocks from each other.

He was from London, in San Francisco for work. The taxi ride had been 27 minutes in total but in that time it felt like we’d known each other for 27 years.

As soon as I saw him on the couch, I’d dropped my jacket there, and gotten in beside him. He’d barely stirred, and I passed out pretty quickly thereafter.

I sit up and the sham that was draped over me falls over the side of the bed. I check my watch, still on my wrist. It was past 7. A solid 4.5 hours—that was a restful night for me ever since I took this case on.

Harry must have carried me to bed, I realize. And I’d been dead to the world while he did.

I never expected to see him again after that taxi ride. Until a few weeks later, he was waiting for me in the courthouse lobby. He’d looked me up, saw I had a case that morning, and waited. It was his last week in San Francisco and he wanted to take me on a date. He hadn’t stopped thinking about me, he’d said. I hadn’t either.

I’d dated plenty before him, had several boyfriends, even a situationship. Harry was the first guy I ever felt relaxed around. From that first date he made sure I felt cared for, that I was happy—he was unafraid to put me first. Even when he had to go back to London and we were long distance for three and a half months, we were always talking.

I’d felt unwanted before. Those were the days I chased after boys that only liked me for doing the chasing. Never did they actually want me. Because when they got me, they’d leave and keep me chasing them forever. Harry had never once been shy about the fact that he wanted me. That he chose me over everything.

We were always running towards each other. Never after each other.

I blink away the sleepiness and notice Harry had put me in a tshirt. It was the little things.

That’s when I hear the voices coming from downstairs. Harry…and my mom.

It was time to get up.

“Good morning princess,” my mom spots me first. I looked bad this morning—even though Harry had attempted to take my makeup off whenever he’d taken me to bed, and replaced my slacks for shorts, I still had craters for eye bags and a tangled bedhead, and dehydrated and inflamed skin from sleeping with makeup. But mom never stopped calling me princess.

“Harry and I were just making pancakes,” she points to the griddle behind her. God, mom loved Harry. It was weird because she’d only ever met 2 of my boyfriends since I started dating as a teen. She hated both of them and was never shy about it. All the others she’d heard about over the phone or a late night snack at her house back when she lived close to where I worked. She hated them all equally. “We’re worried you’re not eating enough.”

I catch eyes with Harry, it was a constant argument with us. But it was hard to eat with a regular appetite when I was so close to the end of big cases. He knew that. He used my mom as a shield to push his own agenda, they worked as a team like that.

But it never made me mad. It was more caring than any ex had ever been.

“Pancakes are your favourite,” Harry says while towel-drying his hands. He’d been ‘washing up’, as he would say with his accent.

“They are,” I say as he walks around the island to me and kisses my cheek. He was always weirdly chaste around my mom, nothing like his behaviour late nights in bed.

Mom grins at me from behind him. She was obsessed.

So was I though.

“Let’s eat!” Mom says. “C’mon, we gotta eat before they get cold. Y/N grab the fruit behind you.”

“Sure mom,” I grab the bowl she prepared. Harry watches mom leave the kitchen with the pancakes and syrup. As soon as she’s out of sight he tugs me right against him.

“Y’know you don’t have to wait for her to leave to be my boyfriend?”

“Is that what I am?” He nuzzles my neck. “I thought I was just your boy-toy.”

“Nah,” I let him kiss me even though we’re both smiling. “My boy-toy’s like, 5 years younger than you are.”

“Yeah well, he’s not the one trying to take your makeup off at 5am while you talk about invoices and flash drives.”

“Oops,” I must have been talking about our smoking gun in my sleep. I couldn’t even rest unconscious. “Thank you for that. You could have left me on the couch.”

“Maybe if I was your boy-toy. But I’m your strong English boyfriend, I take you to bed.”

“And you do it so well,” I pat his arm condescendingly, stealing one more kiss before skirting away. I leave him chuckling in the kitchen and gathering the coffee for breakfast.

Before Harry, I didn’t realize love could be so selfless. That it didn’t have to hurt all the time. That one person could be enough.

“Y/N?” Mom asks. “What do you think?”

“Huh?” I’d gotten lost in thought and I see Harry smirk. I guess I was just staring at him.

“For your dad’s birthday coming up?!” She sighs. “I’ve been talking about his dinner—Harry said he has to go back to London the week before. I thought we could do a birthday dinner early so Harry can be there. You know your dad would like that.”

He would. My dad was just as keen on Harry, telling me that he was good for me—the way a man should be. Those were his exact words.

I remember I’d been confused at first when Harry and I started long-distance dating. He was more stable and consistent than relationships I’d had where we lived inches apart. Being long-distance, I’d only missed him physically when we were apart, he was still there for me in every other way.

When he officially transferred to his San Francisco office 5 months ago, he had surprised me. I remember opening my door to him standing there with flowers and macarons—my favourite dessert. I’d nearly smashed them all when I screamed and threw myself onto him.

After that moment I knew I was done with romanticizing dysfunction and compromising. His love was healthy and pure, and it was for me.

I tried my best to give that to him in return. Lately I’d been a bad girlfriend working long hours and barely seeing him. But I’d make it up to him. He didn’t know this but I’d booked the same flight to London with him, that’s why mom was trying to move dad’s birthday dinner up. So I’d be there too.

“Sounds great,” I say. “That way we can all make it.”

“Perfect I’ll make us a reservation.” Mom picks up her phone and begins typing on it with one finger, one key at a time. She tsks, “Oh why is it doing this now.”

“Here Mrs. Y/l/n,” Harry holds his hand out. “What are you trying to do.”

“This new update has been driving me crazy,” she hand her phone to Harry. He glances at me and we bite back a smile. Mom was notorious for being Bad at Technology. But Harry was always patient and tried teaching her.

“The search bar’s on the bottom now,” Harry shows her. “That’s where you type it in.”

“It was fine at the top why do they always have to move it around, gah I’ll just do this on a computer.”

“Yeah no rush mom,” I say.

“Well I’ll clear the table now. I need to get going soon I have a squash game at half eight.”

“Yeah I need be in by then.” Court opened at 9:30 today and I had to be there a half hour early to submit what we had.

“You two stay here,” mom begins piling plates. She’s surprisingly strong when she snatches the mug Harry’s trying to take away himself. “Let me clean up. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Thanks for the breakfast mom!” I shout as she heads away. Harry echoes a thank you.

“Don’t thank me,” I hear her mumble as she walks away.

Me and Harry are left grinning at each other. He holds his hand out on the table and I clasp his.

“Your mum’s sweet.”

“My mum,” I tease him. I keep his hand held as I go around the table to his seat. He tugs me down onto his lap. “Did you actually call your mom mummy as a kid?”

“Did you call your mum mommy?” Harry asks in a decent American accent.

“Maybe,” I smile.

“Maybe.” He replies.

“I’ll just ask your mum when I meet her someday.”

“She really does want to meet you.” He says seriously. “She thinks I’m deliberately keeping you away.”

“Maybe you are, so she can’t answer all the burning questions I have about you.”

“I can just imagine you and her teaming up against me. My sister will join in too.”

I’d met his sister a few months back when she visited. We hit it on immediately just like Harry and I had. It was a bit of a relief.

“I can’t wait to swap stories over breakfast with your mom.”

“Oh you’d love her breakfast,” Harry smiles fondly. I feel a twinge then, sometimes I wondered if he ever got homesick. Especially when he talked about memories from home. “She does the best English breakfast. You’d have to try black pudding though.”

I crinkle my nose, “Isn’t that the one with the blood?”

“Mmmm it sure is,” he grips my hips and a shiver shoots up my spine.

“Gross! Why would anyone eat that? Or your-what’s that other pudding thing? The one you tried making last winter that’s all puffy-“

“Yorkshire.” He smiles.

“You literally poured hot oil on your mixture. It’s clogging my pores just thinking about it.”

“That’s it. You’re coming to London before the year is over and you’re going to be begging for more when you have a proper roast. What I made at home was a pathetic attempt.”

“Mmm I don’t get it.” I wrap my arms around his neck. “I just don’t get English food. It’s like people who wear crocs, or golf on TV, I don’t get it.”

“You just descibed,” Harry tucks my hair behind my ear, “the perfect date. We’re sorted for the weekend.”

I laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But I love you.” I kiss him. He pulls me back to him when I part.

“I love you.”

“I really do need a shower before I head in though,” I remind him.

“Maybe I’ll join you,” he says low enough so my mom can’t hear.

“If you’re brave enough with mom still here.” I tease.

“Okay hon,” she pops out of nowhere. “I’m heading out. Good luck with court today.”

“Thanks mom.” I get up and give her a big squeeze. “I appreciate you dropping by.”

“Of course. And I’ll drop dinner by tonight I saw the state of your fridge, you should clean that thing out y/n.”

“Yess mom,” I roll my eyes. Harry snickers behind me. Mom should see his fridge, it was half beer cans and takeout containers.

While mom tells Harry about the dinner she would drop by for us I get a headstart on my shower. It was already quarter to 8 and I couldn’t waste any more time.

Harry joins me shortly after, he lowers my hands when he gets in and washes my hair slowly with care. I nearly pass out in the shower with how good his fingers feel on my scalp.

“Thank you,” I turn to him after I wash it out.

“Don’t mention it love,” he kisses my temple.

“Harry,” I suddenly feel choked up. I think his scalp massage had unblocked some chakra stuff because I’m suddenly overwhelmed with feeling.

“What?” He tilts my face up.

“I’m just…I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

“Nonsense.” He swipes my tear away even though the stream of water makes it all the same.

“No I…I never thought I’d meet someone like you. I used to think love was hurting. It doesn’t make sense anymore-“

“Like golf on TV.”

“Yeah,” I laugh and it breaks up the knot in my throat. “Yeah like golf on TV. Now being in love feels like soccer-“

“Football.”

“Soccer,” I correct him. He grins. “It makes sense to me.”

“If you didn’t have work in 30 minutes,” Harry pulls me into him and crushes me against him. It feels good, like being held together. “You’d be face down in bed in the next 10 seconds.”

“Where’s this Harry when my mom’s around.” I tease.

“This Harry’s just for you.” He says just as he turns the shower off. I draw away as he grabs us some towels and I watch him with an unbreakable joy; if it was physical it could illuminate this tiled shower and bounce around the whole room.

He was the reason I got through all these gruelling hours for court. Because I knew I had someone waiting for me, that I could steal an hour away with, and it would leave me refuelled enough for another 24 hour work-day.

“Why are you smiling at me like that,” Harry asks as he hands me the towel. I shake my head and wrap it around me. He watches as I blow dry my hair, kissing my shoulder when I’m done.

“I’ll leave when you leave. Should I drop you off to the office?”

“Please?” I ask. “That’d give me an extra 5 minutes.”

His face lights up.

“No,” I say as he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. “No Harry I have to be early!”

“I only need 2,” he says as he launches me onto the bed. “Maybe 3.”

I pretend to be annoyed but I inch up in bed as he makes his way over and I can’t think of a better way to spend the extra 5 minutes. Or 10. Oops.

If the old me ever met the new me, she’d probably try to stop me. She didn’t know what love could look like. That it could be a gentle smile, a drive in to work, making sure you’re eating, helping your mom out with her phone, or washing your hair for you in the shower.

I’d tell her—the old me, that it was as simple as this: I wanted him, only him. And he wanted me too.

[afluffyfriend]

[laserwalnut]

Awbjects •_<

[gabbytvclarke]

The dog and the postwoman PART TWO: The Sleepover

Part one here! ♥ Part three here!

• Summary: After meeting Arthur TV and filming her first pub golf, y/n heads back to the boys’ flat for a sleepover, where more sweetness with Arthur continues. • Pairing: Arthur TV x female!reader (Also friend!George Clarke, friend!ChrisMD and friend!Arthur Hill) • Slow burn fluff, newfound friends to something more? More of exchanged glances, light touches, etc. • Warnings: alcohol, swearing, innuendoes • Word count: 4,452 words Note: Arthur Hill will be either referred to by his full name or just ‘Hill’, Arthur TV will just be ‘Arthur’!

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

“Oh really?” Arthur questioned, his cheeks beginning to burn again as y/n turns to look at him. The closeness of their faces in the cramped taxi adding to the heat as they lock eyes and share giggle.

George clears his throat, feeling the rising tension. “Better than people shipping Arthur and Chris again!” He chuckles, turning to Chris, “The amount of edits of you biting Arthur is mental.” Y/n and Arthur laugh. George draws his attention to his phone, resting his head on his fist with his elbow leaning on the taxi door handle. Chris initiates more small talk with the driver.

Arthur looks out the window to try and calm his nerves, sobering up slightly and suddenly feeling a tad anxious after the boys mentioned them potentially being shipped. He wonders to himself whether the boys are teasing him because his crush is so one-sided, or whether they're teasing because y/n is into him too. Could she like him? Is she only nice out of pity because he's a bit of an oddball? He knows the only way to find that out is to speak to y/n directly, and because of that he begins to feel a weight on his shoulders. Y/n also watches the streets pass by through the window on Arthur’s side, every so often she glances to Arthur. She can see that Arthur's deep in thought, tapping his fingers on the car door and knotting his eyebrows together. She remembers seeing moments in videos where he gets into a daze, and doesn’t think too much about it. Just in case though, she breaks the silence in the back of the taxi.

“What film are we watching when we get in?” She asks.

“Hm, not sure. Chris will probably pick or else he’ll get in a strop.” George answers quietly with a smirk, waiting for Chris to retaliate but he’s still too busy talking to the driver.

“Probably something terrifying,” Arthur chimes in, louder on purpose so Chris can definitely hear, “Chris likes to make us watch films full of jump scares to ‘see our reactions’, though I really think it’s because he’s too scared to watch it alone.” he laughs at his own comment, feeling a bit more relaxed again.

“That’s so not true Arthur.” Chris states, his voice breaking halfway through. “God I need a drink when we get home.”

“I think you’ve had enough mate.” George quips.

“Of water, you dickhead.” Chris snaps back, throwing his head back against the headrest.

When they pull up to their flat, Chris pays the driver and wishes him a good evening as the other three make their way into the building. They all kick their shoes off and Arthur removes his dog onesie, which he was using as a coat after only wearing shorts and a T shirt underneath. George also whips off his pickle costume, wearing similar attire to Arthur the whole time too. They throw their costumes on the floor. “Oh hey guys… and girl.” Arthur Hill says, walking through to the entryway, not expect y/n’s presence. Everyone else greets him as Chris enters, throwing his pickle costume to the pile on the floor too, muttering something about binning them later. “You all look like you need big glasses of water” Hill chuckles, looking across each ex-player, his eyes ending on Chris and widening.

“Fuck the film, I’m going to bed,” Chris groans, heading to the kitchen to grab some water first, “I’ll grab you two some blankets and spare pillows. You okay taking one of the sofas too y/n?” Y/n looks to their huge comfy sofas and nods.

“I think I can handle a movie, if anyone's still interested?” George offers to the room. Y/n and the Arthurs accept. Y/n immediately plops on one of the sofas, patting and feeling it with her hands and smiles to herself at how they're as comfortable as they look.

“I’ll grab you guys some water and paracetamol… and some food too.” Hill says as he heads into the kitchen area, Arthur follows him but passes to go to the bathroom. George collapses onto the other sofa and gets Netflix up on their huge TV. Hill passes y/n a tablet and water, setting the other two on the shared coffee table. He sits himself next to y/n. “No, Hill. Come sit by me mate.” George calmly suggests. Hill looks to him confused, shrugs and obliges. Y/n is busy messaging Becky to even pay attention. George then whispers in Hill's ear and they look to y/n, who's still none the wiser, and Hill gives George a subtle thumbs up.

Arthur enters the lounge area holding a pile of fresh folded blankets and pillows balancing on top. “Chris says ‘good night’,” he grunts a half-arsed impression of a grumbly Chris. He wobbles his way to the sofas, dropping the pillows to the floor and the top two smaller blankets onto George and Hill, and taking the larger blanket to share on the sofa with y/n as he plops down next to her. "They're for us to use later." Arthur explains to y/n. She nods and drapes the blanket over them both.

“I’ve put a couple of frozen pizzas in the oven, you all should definitely eat something tonight.” Hill says.

“Thanks Hilly” y/n replies. George scrolls through the horror section on Netflix, waiting for everyone to agree. Y/n is open minded the whole time, whereas Arthur doesn’t want to watch one that he’s seen recently. Hill doesn’t fancy anything too gory and George just wants a film picked ASAP. The boys bicker a little as y/n watches on in amusement. Arthur makes himself comfortable, slouching with his arm resting by y/n. Y/n gets herself into a more relaxed position herself, but couldn’t deny feeling slightly chilly while she sits by the flat’s flimsy windows. She pulls her side of the blanket further up to her chin, sitting with her knees to her chest. “You cold?” Arthur whispers to her, while George and Hill are debating what makes a film 'too gory'.

“A bit, but I’ll be okay,” y/n replies. Arthur doesn’t have anything to chivalrously lend to her, not without being shirtless.

“Oh! Do you want to wear my dog onesie? I promise I didn’t spill anything on it.” He offers, throwing his half of the blanket off himself and standing to his feet, a little too fast and giving himself head rush. Y/n chuckles at his eagerness.

“Sure, thank you,” she answers, but by this time Arthur is already bringing the onesie over. She stands and puts it on over her postwoman costume. It was already big on Arthur, so it hangs even baggier on her, with her feet still tucked in the cuffed foot holes. She sits back down and pulls the blanket back over herself. “Much better,” she sighs contently.

“Don’t forget the hood!” Arthur grins, pulling the hood up from between her shoulders and over her head, giving her a couple of light pats. “There. Good girl.” He whispers as he leans in closer to her, a nod to her comment back in the last pub. Y/n scrunches her face up as she laughs, Arthur’s hand still on her head. He gently slides his hand down to her cheek, leaving it there for a second before setting it back on his lap. Y/n feels her face start to burn, thankful Arthur moved his hand away in time before he could feel it too, but also wishing he was cupping her cheek still. Finally, they all decide on a movie. Hill excuses himself to grab their dinner before it plays, then re-enters a few minutes later carrying two plates of pizza, which he had kindly cut into slices. George immediately grabs a slice. “Thanks mate,” he mumbles with his mouth full. As Hill gets himself comfy on his sofa again, George presses play on the movie. The four sit in silence while they watch and eat, ironically Hill eating more pizza than the others.

A particularly intense moment begins building in the movie, and y/n's body stiffens up. Arthur looks to her and can see her wide eyed and taking shallower breaths. "Ahh!" He suddenly screamed as he grabs her, the hand that was once resting behind her now grabbing her shoulder and his other hand reaching over and grasping her arm, making her jump out of her skin. She flinches so hard that the hood of the onesie flies back off. "Fucking hell mate!" George also calls out, pausing the film specifically to turn and shout at Arthur. Hill is sat in silence with his hand to his chest, panting slightly.

"Sorry guys, I won't do it again." Arthur chuckles, still holding y/n but he loosens his grip. The film continues. "Sorry," his whispers again but just to y/n, pulling her slightly closer to direct his apology gently into her ear.

"It's okay," she giggles back quietly, nestling herself more comfortably against Arthur. He smiles to himself as his attention turns back to the TV. After a while, y/n pulls the blanket up to her nose.

"Is it my breath?" Arthur jokes quietly.

"No no, my nose is cold," she muffles, which is true.

"Lemme see." Arthur replies, pulling the blanket off her face and pressing his nose against hers. "Oh yeah.' he whispers sweetly, his face lingering there for a moment as his warm breath fans her face. She pauses, even her pulse. He tilts his face to the side slightly and slowly leans in further, his lips not even an inch away from hers, before George chokes on his water. The sudden noise causing the pair to jump. They had almost forgotten that there are others present.

George sputters as Hill smacks him on the back. "Sorry. Wrong hole," he sheepishly croaks.

"Now we have to rewind because you forgot how to drink, a basic human task!" Hill whines.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry," George murmurs, reaching for the remote and getting the film to where it was before it was interrupted. Y/n and Arthur share a look. Both sporting a shy smile, both wondering if the other could hear the other's heart pounding.

A jump scare happens and the whole room jumps, y/n is startled so much so that she grips Arthur's thigh in a panic. His eyes go wide. Her hand feels perfect on him, half over his shorts' leg and the other half on his bare skin - which feels like it's burning under her touch. His tongue swipes over his lower lip nervously. She realises what she's doing and slowly releases her grip, adjusting the blanket as an excuse to pull her hand away. She notes to herself how firm and hairy Arthur's thigh is, so rugged compared to his soft demeanour. "Scared?" He whispers teasingly in her ear.

"No..." She retorts, almost silently. He squeezes her closer to him sweetly and chuckles.

"Cute." Did he just say... Did she hear that right? She can't help the smile creep on her lips either way.

After the movie finishes, the group take a few moments to discuss what they think of the ending. Y/n is distracted by her phone pinging, so she leans over to check it, laying on her side but still curled up under the blanket. It’s a text from Chip, hardly making any sense.

‘I’m home and a live heehe was nice meetin you proper today. u should ask author out you wld be so leng leng together xxxx’

Y/n thanks him for the fun day and a good night message, returning her full attention back to the group conversation but staying laid on her side. “Y/n looks like a little cinnamon bun over there, you tired from the pub golfing?” Hill asks. Arthur turns his gaze back to her, his heart melting a little at how cozy she looks.

“A little tired, yeah,” y/n answers before yawning. The three golfers tell Hill about their day, each with their own little anecdotes. Arthur does a lot of the talking, keeping his voice lower for Chris’s sake. It sounds like liquid gold. Listening to the boys’ chatter, y/n feels her eyes getting heavy as her blinks get slower. And slower. And slower.

--------

Her eyes gradually open, thankfully only a tinge of a headache surrounding her, all thanks to Hill’s insistence of drinking water from the previous night. The morning rays cascade on her through the windows of the boys’ living room. She gently sits up and looks over her shoulder, confused to see a pillow behind her that she definitely hadn’t placed the night before. When she faces forward again, she can see Arthur laying on his back on the other couch, staring intensely at his phone. When she squints her eyes, she can just make out a chess game on his screen. “Morning,” she yawns, startling him out of his match.

“Oh! Morning y/n,” Arthur replied, casually locking his phone and rolling over to face her. Abandoning a game that just now, he was so focused on. “Did you sleep alright?”

“I did,” she replies and a groggy smile, “although I really need to brush my teeth.”

“Me too, I’ll see if the guys have any spare toothbrushes for us.” Arthur replies, before stretching and hopping to his feet. He shuffles out of sight before y/n leans over and grabs her phone. It’s almost dead, so she grabs the portable charger from her postbag and sits back on the sofa. Upon plugging it in, she notices a text from George from the early hours of the morning.

“Cuties 🥹”

With a photo attached. She clicks the message for a better look and her eyes nearly bug out of her head. The photo is of her laying asleep curled up on the sofa, phone in hand. However, Arthur was big-spooning her, in almost the fact same curled up position. She zooms in on the photo to see his arm is sandwiched between and his face is all squishy from his position - he was fast asleep too. She hearts the photo and saves it to her phone, feeling giddy. However, soon after she stops to think. ‘If he was lying with me here, why was he on the other sofa when I woke up?’ She starts to worry herself, scared she farted or snored or something and gave him the ick.

“Well that’s not the face of a morning person.” George stated, standing in the living room in just sweatpants and a baggy T shirt. His croaky voice startles y/n slightly before she chuckles.

“Just in deep thought,” she replies.

“About what, the photo?” George asks. Y/n shushes him and waves her hand at him aggressively. George rolls his eyes.

“Relax y/n, I walked past Chris’s room just now and they’re both gassing about Lord of the Rings stuff.” Which makes y/n grin. George takes a seat next to her on the sofa. “The photo’s pretty simple, he fell asleep next to you.”

“Yeah,” y/n nodded, “but what happened?”

“Not sure entirely, I was chatting to Hill and realised Television was suspiciously quiet, when we looked over we saw you two spooning.” George explains, “we figured we’d leave you both to your sleepy time and both headed to bed ourselves. We left spare toothbrushes out for you by the way.”

Y/n stands up and yawns. “Thanks Clarkey” she sends him a half smile before making her way to the bathroom.

“Wait,” he starts, “Looks like Arthur slept on this couch.” he gestures to the pillows and disarrayed blankets on the other sofa.

“Yeah I think he did, did you see him get up at all before you went to bed?” Y/n asks quietly, fully aware she’s closer to Chris’s room now.

“I didn’t, like I said, you were cozied up when we last saw you.” he replies. Y/n pauses to think, eyes serious. “If you’re worried, just ask him mate,” George suggests. Y/n nods and heads to Chris’s room. George shakes his head with a smirk and whispers “Young love” to himself.

When y/n gets to Chris’s doorway, she can tell the boys are in deep conversation. As soon as Chris locks eyes with her, he clears his throat.

“Oh, good morning y/n. You sleep well?” he asks, his voice higher than usual.

“I did thanks, sorry to interrupt the hobbit talk,” she starts, making the boys chuckle. Arthur struggles not to stare, but he can’t believe how good she looks first thing in the morning, although it doesn’t surprise him. “Arthur, there are toothbrushes awaiting us.”

They head to the bathroom and brush their teeth in a comfortable silence. When they're both finished and put their toothbrushes back in the spare glass, the brush heads happen to be pressed together. "Look," Arthur points, giggling, "our brushes are smooching!" Making y/n laugh. Arthur beams proudly, admiring how unreserved her smile is. Just before they head out, y/n psyches herself up and reaches for the hem of Arthur's shirt.

“Hey, before we go back out there, I have to ask you something.” His hand is already on the door handle, but he stops himself and turns to face her, feeling his chest tighten.

“Sure, what’s up?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I hate to be awkward, but George sent me a photo from last night.” She begins, unlocking her phone to pull the photo up.

“Is it the one of us asleep on the couch? George sent me the same one.” Arthur chuckles shyly, sliding his hands in his shorts pockets and finding it hard to look in y/n’s direction. His face quickly drops and a look of anxiety washes over him, thinking he's in trouble. “I am so, so sorry for that. I must’ve fallen asleep before I could even realise-”

“Oh that’s okay Arthur, really. I thought it was quite cute.” Y/n assures him. Colour starts to flood back to his face as he finally looks at her, a small smile tugs one corner of his mouth with relief.

“I was more curious to know what happened after you first fell asleep, I noticed you switched sofas during the night,” she explains, searching his face for an answer before he even speaks.

“I see,” Arthur nods slowly, and he begins to explain:

“I’m not sure when I fell asleep but when I woke up, I was still laying behind you, like in the photo. You were fast asleep and I kind of panicked. I didn’t want you to wake up and see I was laying up against you without any consent and think I was a weirdo or something. So I figured I should move to the other couch and hoped you’d not know about the accidental spooning. I very carefully got up from the couch. You looked comfy, but I could only imagine the neck ache you’d wake up with. So I grabbed a pillow from the floor and very carefully lifted your head and slipped it under. You looked so much comfier then. Then I got on my couch and I guess I fell asleep straight away, as I can't remember much else.”

Y/n sighs, she smiles and shakes her head. “You’re so sweet, you really are.” They look at each other for what feels like minutes. Arthur’s glances switch between her eyes and her lips. She steps towards him, her gaze never leaving his sweet smile. A knock on the bathroom door brings them both back down to earth. “Are you guys done? Sorry but I need a shit.” Chris’s voice is heard in the other side. The pair giggle before Arthur rolls his eyes and opens the door. He stands to the side to let y/n leave first but Chris barges in mumbling an apology. When the pair walk back out to the open living area, George is preparing breakfast. "Oh, there you two are," he smiles, "I'm just about to make some grub, would either of you like any?" Y/n politely shakes her head.

"I'm okay for now thank you, I should really head home and get out of this uniform before I stink the country up anymore!" She replies.

"I should go and shower too, do you want to share an Uber? I'll pay." Arthur offers.

"We can go halves." She grins back, then unzips the dog onesie places it on the sofa. As she does so, the smell of Arthur's aftershave mixed with a hint of beer breezes past her, a harsh reminder of just how much she fancies the man.

They head to where their shoes were discarded, preparing to leave. "Just so you know, you smell lovely." He whispers, his eyes then suddenly widening. "I mean- that sounded creepy- I just mean that you don't smell bad! You- you won't stink up the country!" He then blabbers, bringing his palm to his forehead with a disappointed grin.

"Thank you Arthur," she replies with a genuine tone and smile, letting him know that he's not a creep.

"Speaking of smell," Arthur starts, turning to face towards the bathroom, "Bye Chris, enjoy your shit!" A muffled 'fuck off' is heard retaliating from across the flat.

"Bye guys!" y/n adds on between laughs, she faces George "Please say bye to Hilly for me when he wakes up." George waves his spatula playfully, like a suburban wife waving out her husband.

"Good bye, loooove you!" He calls out in a soft, higher pitched voice.

The Uber doesn't take long at all to arrive outside the boys' building. Arthur rushes ahead of y/n, holding the door open for her. She bows her head as if to thank him and climbs in, Arthur following behind her. When y/n gives the driver her address, Arthur is shocked to realise that she only lives a 20 minute walk away from his place. With nothing but the hum of the car engine for a short while, Arthur breaks the silence. "You know, it's refreshing to meet someone who is just as nice in person as they seem in their videos."

Y/n is surprised by the sudden compliment. "Same goes to you," she replies, "and you really do go wild after only a couple of drinks." She then chuckles.

"You should give me your number, I'm sure Isaac, Italianbach, would love to have you as a guest on our Bach and Arthur podcast. We can set something up." Arthur cleverly tests the waters, still unsure if she likes him or is just super nice.

"Great idea!" Y/n chirps, holding her hand out for his phone. He passes it over and watches her type with a smirk. When she hands it back to him, he grins to himself we notices that she saved her name as:

'Y/n 🐶✉️'

"Very nice." He states, amused. Sending her a text immediately that makes her giggle:

'Woof woof 😉'

They talk amongst themselves about upcoming videos, y/n is excited to hear that Arthur plans on playing another Dress to Impress with the boys. Arthur notices that the driver is heading to his place first. "Do you want a coffee at mine, we can walk to yours after as it's basically just around the corner." He offers with a wholesome smile.

"I would love to, but I desperately want to have a shower before I see some of my friends this afternoon." She replies, a hint of disappointment in her tone. "Otherwise, coffee would be nice." Unfortunately for both of them, Arthur doesn't quite realise at the time that y/n is suggesting they go for coffee sometime, like a date.

Arthur only nods though, "That's fair enough. Well I'll text you about the podcast soon at least." He smiles, although if she were someone who knew him better, she'd notice the slight pensiveness behind his eyes. He wonders to himself whether she's actually busy or just rejecting him kindly. Though later that day when he follows her on Instagram, he'll see from her story that she was telling the truth.

As the Uber turns to Arthur's street and starts pulling over, Arthur gives y/n a tap on her leg. "Don't worry about paying me half by the way, it's my treat." He tells her, still wanting to be chivalrous as ever despite his self doubt.

"You don't have to, but thank you" y/n replies, feeling warmer than she did five seconds ago.

"I'm glad Chris invited you to pub golf, it was fantastic meeting you" Arthur states, words oozing in y/n's ears like warm honey, as he reaches out to shake her hand.

"You too Arthur, have a lovely day" She replies sweetly, taking his hand to shake it before boldly pulling him towards her and pecking his cheek, slightly catching the outer corner of his lips too. Arthur rushes to unbuckle his seatbelt and step out the car before y/n can notice his face turning scarlet. As the Uber pulls away, y/n turns to watch Arthur walk toward his building, noticing his hand is pressed to his cheek with a dopey smile on his face.

--------

Over the next few weeks, y/n and Arthur message each other animal facts and videos about dinosaurs and general science back and forth. They also plan her appearance on the podcast. One day, Arthur sends her a random Instagram post of a postman cuddling a puppy and adding 'it's us 🥹' to the message, making y/n go fuzzy inside.

When Chris uploads the pub golf video almost a whole month after filming it that fateful day. Y/n reads the comments with rosy cheeks, completely unaware that 'basically just around the corner', Arthur is sat on his computer chair doing the same.

Commenter 1: omg did you see the way Arthur looked at y/n????? ↳ Commenter 2: Fr fr he was smitten

Commenter 3: get y/n and Arthur in a team next time Chris

Commenter 4: y/nTV is going to happen I’m calling it now!!!!!!

Commenter 5: 23:37 chip says 'bros in love' DID ANYONE ELSE HEAR THAT ↳ Commenter 6: Right? That had to be about y/n!

Commenter 7: there's definitely some tension between y/n and arthur 😏😏 did you SEE that arm wrestle

Commenter 8: Y/N FREDERICK IS HAPPENING. feel free to come back to my comment in like 4 years time when they announce their wedding in a museum :)

--------

With both of them being too awkward to blatantly ask the other out or even admit their feelings, they continue their mix of friendship and flirtationship while their YouTube circle watches on in frustration. That's when Arthur Hill then decides to invite y/n to join him, Arthur TV, and George on a platform roulette video.

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

[PART THREE]

A/n: Here is part two! Thanks so much to everyone for their sweet reception of part one. I feel like this one wasn't as good, but please let me know still if you'd like a part 3! ♥ Tag: @ooostarwarsfandom501st - Gabby xo

[sourdough-seal]

“that sounds like a fun phase” almost nothing in my life has ever been a phase. all it takes is a 21-second youtube clip to get me interested in an activity i have not tried in nine years. i store hobbies in my cheeks like a squirrel

[artvscvntymullet]

A NIGHT TO REMEMBER (AND FORGET) - ARTHUR TV

looking after a very drunk arthur after a football pub golf...

content warning: drinking, heavy pda, nausea, dizziness (everything that comes with drinking, basically)

word count: 1850 words

It had been one of those weeks—the kind where the days blur into one another, and all you can do is keep your head down and get through it. Work had been a never-ending stress-fest, and you were more than ready for a quiet evening with your boyfriend, Arthur. The plan was simple—order takeaway, watch a film, and try to forget about the chaos of the week.

But of course, you should have known better than to expect a quiet night when Arthur was involved.

It all started when your phone buzzed on the couch, startling you out of your daydream. You picked it up and saw a message from Harry, probably the only one sober enough to still type a coherent sentence.

Harry: Hey, can you come pick us up? Arthur’s absolutely hammered, and we’re all kinda a mess. The others are too drunk to drive.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. You were no stranger to these texts. Arthur’s friends—Chip, Chris, George, and Bach—had all been out at a pub golf event. And while Arthur always swore he’d take it easy, you knew better. Pub golf was practically an excuse for them to drink until they couldn’t remember their own names.

You: How bad is it?

Harry: Arthur’s the worst. It’s bad. Like, ‘can’t get him in the car’ bad. Help?

You tossed your phone aside and grabbed your keys, resigning yourself to the fact that you were going to have to rescue your intoxicated boyfriend and his equally tipsy friends once again. You knew this wasn’t going to be a simple task, but it was just part of the deal with Arthur. He had this way of turning any night out into an adventure.

The drive to the pub was short, but it felt like a lifetime. You could already imagine the chaos you were about to walk into. Arthur, drunk off his mind and surrounded by his equally plastered friends, was never a simple task to wrangle. But as much as you were frustrated, there was always something about him, even in his most ridiculous moments, that made you smile.

When you pulled up outside the pub, you saw the familiar mess of Arthur’s friends hanging around. There was Chip, grinning like he was the happiest man on earth, Bach trying to steady himself against a lamppost, and Chris—who, if you were being honest, probably could’ve stayed sober but never did. And, of course, there was Arthur, slumped against the wall, his hair a dishevelled mess, his eyes half-lidded, but when he saw you, a goofy smile spread across his face.

“Y/N!” he slurred, his voice louder than it should’ve been. “You came for me! You came to take me home!” He stretched his arms toward you like a drunken child, nearly toppling over in the process.

You took a deep breath. Here we go.

“Arthur, you’re a mess,” you said, walking up to him with a half-smile. “What did I tell you about going easy tonight?”

“I did!” he protested, swaying slightly. “I did go easy, babe. But then—” He paused, seemingly deep in thought. “Then I had a couple more shots, and then I had another pint... and now I’m here, and I’m perfect.”

“Perfectly drunk, you mean,” you muttered under your breath, already starting to loop his arm around your shoulder to help steady him. You could feel the weight of his body leaning into you, but you were used to it by now. “Come on, let’s get you in the car.” You shot a glance at his friends, who were all either laughing or trying to help in their own, very wobbly ways.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked George, who looked like he might fall asleep standing up. “I’ll need you guys to keep it together while we get him out of here.”

“We got it, we got it!” Chris grinned, leaning on Chip for support. “We’ll keep him safe... ish.”

“Thanks,” you said dryly, leading Arthur out the door and to your car. “You guys really owe me one.”

“Not true,” Chip called after you, “Arthur owes you at least ten after tonight.”

Arthur turned his head to look at him and slurred, “I owe her my life, mate.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing it would be a challenge getting him into the car without him doing something ridiculous.

Getting Arthur into the car was like trying to fit a particularly tipsy octopus into a seatbelt. He flopped around, giggling at his own antics, and it took you a solid ten minutes to get him to stop trying to wrestle with the seatbelt. You were just about ready to give up and shove him into the trunk when he finally settled, his head resting against the window, eyes half-closed but still managing to smile at you with an idiotic grin. “I’m so glad you’re here,” Arthur murmured, his voice surprisingly soft. “I’m... the luckiest guy.”

You smiled at him, reaching over to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead. “You’re a pain, Arthur.” He pouted, the drunken sincerity in his eyes making you feel a pang of affection despite the chaos. “I know. But I’m your pain, right?”

“Only when you’re drunk,” you teased, glancing over at his friends. They were scattered around the car, not exactly being much help but still trying to make sure Arthur didn’t roll out of the car halfway home.

As you drove, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. The chaos of the night had brought out a side of Arthur that was both frustrating and endearing. But no matter how messy the situation was, you knew you’d always be there to pick him up—literally and figuratively.

When you pulled into your parking spot, you didn’t even bother asking Arthur to help. Instead, you practically dragged him out of the car, his legs uncoordinated as he leaned heavily on you. His arm was slung over your shoulders, and you could feel his warm breath against your neck as he muttered things you couldn’t quite make out.

“Arthur,” you groaned, “You’re killing me here.”

Arthur giggled, the sound muffled as he rested his face against your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, babe. I’m so so sorry. But you love me anyway.”

“You’re lucky I do,” you said, your heart softening even though you were clearly at the end of your rope. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Once you got him inside, it didn’t get much easier. Arthur kept stumbling over his own feet, and you had to support most of his weight as you guided him to the couch. His friends—Chip, George, and Bach—had all somehow made it inside with you, but they were far too gone to be any help.

“Alright, I’ll take it from here,” you said, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “Go get some water, or... whatever it is you guys need.”

“Hey,” Arthur suddenly slurred, “Can we... can we cuddle? Like, I just need you so close, Y/N.”

You gave him a look. “Arthur, you can’t even sit up straight.”

Arthur just grinned, too drunk to be embarrassed. “I’ll try my best... promise. Please, babe?”

Rolling your eyes but secretly unable to resist his puppy-dog face, you helped him recline on the couch, your body automatically curling up next to his. His arm draped across your shoulders as he settled into your side, his breathing softening as he nuzzled into your neck. “You’re so warm,” he murmured, the words coming out in a low, almost drowsy tone. “I just want to be here forever.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

Arthur chuckled, his grip tightening on you slightly. “I know. But I’m your impossible.”

You sighed, shaking your head as you ran your fingers through his messy hair. “You really are a mess tonight, but I still love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, his voice slurring, but there was a sincerity in it that made your heart skip a beat. “Even if I’m drunk. Even if I’m an idiot. I’ll love you forever.”

You rested your head against his chest, the chaos of the night slowly fading into a warm, sleepy haze. Arthur was still talking, but the words became less coherent as he drifted off to sleep, his head lolling against yours.

As you lay there, wrapped up in him, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the madness. Because, despite all the drunken mishaps, the chaos, and the messiness, this was where you wanted to be—right here, with Arthur. The idiot who loved you more than anything, even if he had a funny way of showing it.

In that moment, with his breath warm against your skin and his friends snoring in the other room, you were content to let the world fade away. No matter how wild the night got, you knew you’d always be there for each other—through the chaos, the mess, and all the little moments in between.

[rem0t3]

Drawing again! (.... I... Love.. Weapons, these are my favorites)

[krumbles]

It's here

It's finally here

THE TPOT 12 - ONWARDS TEAMS

If I change my mind and want to change one of their Designs then I'll do so here

I couldn't fit all the tags sadly 💔

[honk-official]

i feel so bad for leaving out tumblr as one of my social media's.. so have these semi-human designs of bfdi characters cus I'm cool like that.

[dragiani2]

Repressed Thoughts.

Wanted to make some Tengolf stuff! If this gets enough notes I might show the version without the epic color filters

[addynosketchpad]

why didnt i think of usb transfer SOONER

also roboty is telling them about how he killed four. for the 151st time

[centacrunch-124]

Here’s a boat load of Ice Cube polyships

oh and a tiny little Icelety lol

[cyberpeachy]

Srry, this might be wrong, but I saw the bfdi and ii 2025 tour and thought of this

[lebba-moonlight]

Doodles dump

Also a family tree with Announcer, Announcer is uncle of Remote & Tv, TV and Remote are siblings, Remote dates Tree, TV dates Bottle Announcer created FSB, PSB and Profily, all of these 3 are also siblings.

[artvscvntymullet]

i crave a pub golf right now. i need to go to one. i need an upload. ANYTHING

ive been at home all day watching youtuber pub golf (with the europe one on chrismds channel being watched 5 times)

i need pub golf injected in my veins

these men are so hot i literally feel like a feral animal god help me

also will to be in the next pub golf please chris !!

[sp1dercandle]

Some bfdi gijinkas I made, honestly I wanted to make all the teams in tpot and make it into one post but I'm just gonna post these two for now because I just don't wanna keep my blog empty for too long (excuse my inconsistent art style 😭😭)

Also

Reblogs are appreciated!! ♡