#nice places to visit in london at night

[waugh-bao]

London: Day 6

[theaceace]

An old concept that I'm still feral over, but a Dreamling fic in which the dreamling relationship is chronicled entirely by Yelp reviews of the New Inn.

Reviews are either 5* or 1* with surprisingly little in between, and the business owner replies are always a riot. They start off fairly normal, talking about the food and drink, the couple of guest rooms upstairs, the location and prices etc, but then they start to get weird.

Constantine leaves 3*, beer is shit whiskey is ok not haunted which is more than I can say for most london pubs and the response is Thanks Jo, but you're still banned

4* this place is run by my history professor and it's amazing but he asked me about my overdue essay three times so I can't give it 5* and Hob, who has had multiple students visit the pub for the sole purpose of doing this, is just like you still haven't submitted that, get off yelp and start citing your sources

There are multiple 5* reviews like would give 10* if i could, the owner chased off a neo nazi with a literal sword he pulled out from behind the bar

5* should probably give it less because a couple of times the answers to the history round on the monthly quiz night have been wrong, but otherwise it's a solid little place for a reasonably priced pint and a nice afternoon and Hob's response is just those answers were right

And then Dream comes back and the reviews start... Changing, a bit

One of the 1* reviews is just complaining about the fact that there was a bird at the bar and no one got rid of it and the reply from Hob is that's Matthew, he has a tab. Several of the 5* reviews are also about the fact that sometimes there's a bird in the bar

One of the 5* reviews is saw the most beautiful goth twink in the world, will definitely be going back and Hob nearly deletes that one. The reply instead is that's my boyfriend, unlike Matthew he never pays his tab

5* i have no idea how i got there or found the place because i swaer i was halfway across london from where google maps says it is but anyway the bartender was really great and understandig when I started crying on him, will defiantely go back if reality ever warps like that again. Response from owner: yeah sorry about the reality warping, we don't get it either

1* I only wish I could have given this establishment a glowing review – fabulous service, lovely food and a sumptuous wine I hadn't expected, but unfortunately I had to see my brother's face. Response from owner: Desire get off the internet, it doesn’t need your help

[pinkie-quinns]

rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to ?? | fame au p2 | p1 p3 p4 p5 interlude p6

The picture itself is not incriminating.

In the five years since Eddie’s wet dog apology they have been cordial to each other. Eddie seemed to have finally grown up. Finally got the hint. He doesn’t bug Steve after that night. He stays in his lane.

After a few years it’s a nod at a charity event. A half-smile at the town’s trendy new restaurant. A card when Steve gets an Emmy nod for his HBO series. Steve tries to not mind it. Tries to not let it get under his skin. He doesn’t send Eddie anything when he gets his Grammy.

LA is a small town. Eddie moved back once he finished his first tour. Steve does his best to keep his circle separate but LA is a small town. He nearly ends up at Eddie’s 30th after his coworker tries to drag him to some “rager in Loz Feliz.”

Sometimes, after another break up leaves him feeling shit-all, Steve drives past their dingy old place in West Hollywood. Tries to picture the version of the story where Eddie wasn’t eaten by his monster ego. Lets himself imagine them happy. Lets himself cry over it again. Like it happened yesterday instead of a decade ago.

But then he blinks and it’s been twelve years and yeah, maybe he hasn’t felt home like he did with Eddie, maybe no one else has fit him quite so right. But maybe he was just young and everything felt bigger then.

He feels weirdly at peace about it all. It’s not forgiveness, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to stomach that, but it is acceptance. It took a long time to scar but it's finally just a faded pink line. He’s happy.

And then the photo starts to circulate.

The picture itself is not incriminating.

It’s their old WeHo apartment. Eddie’s hopped on the grimy kitchen counter, acoustic guitar in hand. He’s smiling at Steve and Steve is leaned against the wall and he’s smiling back. And it’s Them. And Steve thinks they’ve never looked so young.

He doesn’t know who took the photo. Maybe Robin or Nancy or Jon. They visited a lot in that first year.

He doesn’t know how it ended up digitized, posted to a random pop culture subreddit.

What he does know is that he and Eddie have never publicly acknowledged each other.

The internet treats the picture like a cute little chachki in the first few days. A buzzpop factoid #67. It’s “Did you know Tommy Lee Jones and Al Gore were college roommates?”

But then news outlets were picking it up. And Eddie was halfway through promoting his third album.

They’re dead lucky the picture is not incriminating.

Steve’s still not technically out– he’s had quiet relationships with men but his team preferred a starlet on his arm at the carpets.

Eddie’s out the way a rockstar is. He’d fuck anything as long as it made him a pervert.

Their teams move fast.

The official story is that they’d both moved to LA to pursue their careers. They roomed together because they knew each other from their small town. Then Steve booked his show and Eddie moved to London and they lost touch.

Eddie repeats it on talk show after talk show. He lies and says they’re still friendly now, but their schedules keep them both so busy. They haven’t caught up in a while. He goes wistful when he says it. Steve tries not to feel downright bitter. It does quiet the chatter down.

In November, his manager tells him he’s presenting at the Golden Globes. The studio had asked him specifically, still under contract to promote their animated movie. He agrees cause he needs eyes on the tiny indie he'd finally gotten made.

In December, he finds out who he’s presenting with.

Steve throws a fit. It’s uncharacteristic. It’s not at all in line with the nice-guy persona he’s spent years cultivating. But they’ve managed to get this far without him actually having to talk to the guy. He doesn’t ever want to have to talk to Eddie Munson again.

His manager lures him off the ledge. It’s too late to change the line-up. He's put in years of work to get his movie made. She reminds him that it’s Hollywood. Everyone has to deal with this shit. Not worth blowing it all up because he can’t handle 30 minutes with his ex.

So Steve plays nice but Eddie skips out on rehearsal. Of fucking course. Twelve years and he’s still so predictable.

Steve reads the teleprompter next to a random PA and decides then and there to say Fuck Healing. He did that. And now he’s being punished. Again. He’s fucking pissed.

He’s pissed that the photo got out. He’s pissed at whoever leaked it. He’s pissed enough to convince himself it was Eddie. He’s pissed Eddie’s shouldering his way back into his life even if it wasn’t him.

And yeah, he’s still fucking pissed that Eddie left in the first place.

Steve first sees him on the carpet. It’s from a distance, and he’s determined to keep it that way for as long as possible. He wishes Eddie dashed for the real thing too, but he knows his ego couldn’t take the blow. Eddie Munson loves attention too much.

Eddie looks great, cause he’s a celebrity & it’s a 10-person job to make him look great.

Eddie looks great cause he’s always looked great. Even when his hair was all frizz and his hygiene habits were questionable at best. And Steve hates him but his dick has never gotten the memo.

Steve deals with it by drinking a lot. It’s the Globes! He sits at his table and smiles and they give him alcohol and he drinks it. It’s stupid and it’s reckless and it’s the only thing that’s gonna get him through this torture. So he picks at his ugly velvet suit and he drinks.

The wranglers grab them 20 minutes before they’re set to present. It’s earlier than usual but Munson’s been known to dash.

They’re sitting on opposite couches in the green room. Eddie’s vibrating. Leg jittering nonstop. Steve’s starting to feel woozy. They’re not talking.

After five minutes, Eddie clicks his tongue and gets up. “Gonna take a leak.” His wrangler starts after him. “Follow me and I cut off your dick.”

Steve looks at the kid, weighing tearily whether his job was more important than his penis, “I’ll- I'll make sure he’s back on time.”

Steve stumbles riled down the hall, opens the door with a slam, “You leak the photo, Munson?”

Eddie’s already washing his hands. Steve catches his reflection in the mirror. He looks weirdly hurt.

“Steve,” Eddie says his name so... sad, “C’mon, man. I- I wouldn’t do that.”

Steve laughs cold, puts his hands in his suit pockets. “Sure, yeah, man. You’d just disappear for seven years. Come back with some horseshit apology because you finally got what you wanted. Cause your ego could finally handle being around me. But sure. You wouldn’t do that.”

Eddie steps back into the wall, looks at Steve with those watery brown eyes. They’re framed by crows feet now. “Steve, I–”

Steve boxes him in, makes it so he can’t slip away this time, “You know there was a week there where I thought you'd fucking died.”

He feels like a live wire. He feels every awful thing he’s felt for a dozen years bubble to the surface.

“Mike Wheeler told me where you went. Mike. Wheeler. I thought you were dead in a ditch, you asshole. Thought I’d lost you forever. But no. You just skipped town– Skipped town because I loved you and you fucking hated me.”

He doesn’t know when grabbed a fist into Eddie’s shirt. He wants to tear it. It’s probably insured.

“Stevie,” Eddie’s blubbering. Their faces are close enough that Steve can see his lip quivering. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.”

Now Steve really wants to laugh. Baby. It’s such garbage. Total bullshit.

“I wish you’d died. It would’ve hurt less.” He says it dry, with his big wide movie-star smile. Then he spits, bullseye on Eddie’s cheek, “I fucking hate you.”

It’s so strange to see Eddie up close after all this time. He’s blurry in the memories but so vivid here, so harsh. Makeup cracking into nicotine wrinkles. Different. A mask of the person Steve knew.

He breathes, “I know.”

----

Eddie's tongue still tastes the same.

[w2sarcher]

noisy neighbour part two | harry lewis

✩ ✩ ✩

summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour

word count : 5.7k

part one here

a/n: this is part two of my noisy neighbour series!!! read part one before this <3 there will be more parts to this as its a proper slow burnerrr. sorry for the slow updates i haven't forgotten about this series lol xxx

masterlist <3333

-

✩ ✩ ✩

Y/N had come to the conclusion that life was much better when she didn’t let silly lies get in her way. It had been a week since she had come clean to her noisy neighbour, or Harry, as she now knew him, and life couldn’t get any better. 

After the pair had laughed about her moment of foolishness and how they were both a little too loud for their own good, they were able to move past it all and properly get to know the person they were living next door to. 

Y/N found out more about Harry’s whole ‘Youtuber’ lifestyle. He was part of a group of seven boys that made videos that came out every Sunday, but he also had other channels in which he’d play computer games and do funny reaction videos—the source of all that playful shouting she had heard through the walls. He told her that he’d gotten bored of his old apartment and wanted a change of scenery, so he chose the small-scale but nonetheless nice flat next door to hers. He lived alone and was 27; his favourite colour was blue, and his favourite cake was chocolate. He liked coffee,cycling, surfing, and the occasional beer, and he loved travelling anywhere in the world, near or far; he just loved exploring places. He had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and was from a little channel island named Guernsey. Y/N had never been.

She told him all the little details she could think of about herself in return. She was always sort of bad at introductions, cringing when they used to say ‘’Tell us three facts about you’’ in school, never knowing what to say. But she managed nonetheless. She told him all about her dream of having a cafe of her own and how she came to do so. She loved old music, mainly Abba, to which he laughed and told her he knew already, making a playful jab at the singing he had heard from next door. She too lived alone but was 26; her favourite colour was green, and her favourite cake was lemon. She also liked coffee, not so much cycling or surfing, and opted for cider whenever she went to the pub. While she hadn’t been travelling much herself due to paying off her university debts and then starting up her coffee shop, she still shared the desire to travel anywhere in the world—far away from London. 

It was such a breath of fresh air for Y/N. Owning a cafe all on her own meant early mornings and late nights, and her weekends were either spent visiting her parents or nestled away in her flat watching episodes of Vanderpump Rules or trying new recipes for baked goods that she was thinking about selling in the cafe. Because of this, she had found it hard to find time to make friends, and while she had her fair share, she barely saw them; they either had big city jobs or were living outside of London and starting a family. It just felt nice for Y/N to just sit and chat with someone a similar age to her and talk about nonsense for a while. 

While the conversation the pair shared was cut short by Harry needing to get to work and record a podcast, they shared numbers (only in case one of them got a parcel for the other, of course), and Harry said he’d pop back in soon to finish where they left off. 

So that was it. It had been a week, and she hadn’t seen him since, but that was all she could think about. It wasn’t even like Y/N had a crush, or so she convinced herself, but she longed to talk to him again; it just felt nice. While the occasional old lady that came into the cafe was great to chat with, asking away about how her day was going or what their plans were for the day, she still preferred the little chat she had with Harry; it just felt different, and she couldn’t put her finger on why. 

But then she got all in her own head. Maybe he didn’t come back in because he realised she was a bit weird, having lied about living next door and that he was only being friendly and entertaining the conversation, but in reality, he didn’t want to be talking to her at all. Y/N knew she was probably getting a bit ahead of herself, but she couldn’t help but think the worst. She had always been a bit of a pessimist. 

It was now Monday again, and the cafe had just begun to die down after the lunch rush. After cleaning tables and putting cups and saucers back in place, Y/N finally felt like she had it all under control. There was no one in the shop, and looking at the time, the clock read 1:00 p.m., a perfect chance for Y/N to have her lunch break. She had scoffed a croissant earlier that morning and topped herself up with flat whites throughout the day, but now she was starving. She walked over to the door, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘close’ and walked back behind the counter to prepare herself something nice to eat. 

She wasn’t long into making a ham and cheese toastie when she heard three loud knocks on the glass door. Usually she’d shout ‘’We’re closed’’ and continue what she was doing, but another three knocks followed, and she thought she’d just let them in and eat her sandwich another time. 

As she turned around, she saw a hooded figure standing outside the door—it was lashing rain in London today (shocker) —but she could barely make their face out through the raindrops on the door. Nearing closer, she realised it was Harry. After a week, he’d returned. Maybe her pessimism wasn’t always right.  

Letting him in, she moved back as he took his coat off, the black puffer soaked from the awful weather. 

''Hello, you,’’ he smiled, lifting the hood of his jumper from his head. ‘’Didn’t realise you closed this early.’’

‘’Hiya,’’ she smiled back. ‘’Just closed for lunch, that’s all.’’

Furrowing his brows, he replied, ''U-Oh, right, I can come back later if you’re busy.’’

She laughed, taking his coat from him to hang it up on the coat stand next to the door. ‘’Don’t be silly. I’m only having a toastie, nothing special.’’

‘’Lovely stuff,’’ he said, clapping his hands together and following her towards the counter.

‘’How’ve you been?’’ she asked. ‘’Horrible weather today, isn’t it?’’ Classic brit filling empty silence with talks of the weather.

‘’I know, proper pain in the arse,’’ he laughed. ‘’Been good, though. Just back from a holiday with the boys, but so typical, I’ve come back to the shittest weather possible.’’

''Ooh, lucky you,’’ Y/N smiled as she resumed the making of her lunch. ‘’Go anywhere nice?’’

‘’Went to the Maldives for two days for a video,’’ he said nonchalantly, ‘’was a good laugh though.’’

‘’Wow, that must've been unreal.’’ she gasped, placing her sandwich on a small green plate before looking back at him. ‘’Can I get you anything to eat? I feel like a knob if I’m sat scoffing my face and I’ve not made you anything.’’

Harry smiled, watching as the girl moved her plaited hair so that it was out of her face. He thought she was quite pretty with her hair tied back, freckled cheeks, and a peach-coloured blusher on her face. She was wearing her same old green apron, but instead of the jumper she had on the last time he saw her, she had a striped long-sleeve top paired with black jeans. Yeah, she was really quite pretty, he thought. 

‘’No, I’m fine, thanks. I got a meal deal in the airport earlier,’’ he paused. ‘’And I’m trying to keep off the cakes, but they do look bloody brilliant today.’’

Y/N laughed, ''Well, you’re in the wrong place if you’re trying to keep off the sweet stuff. I got cakes coming out of my ears in this place.’’

The conversation felt easy for Y/N. It was almost weird to think about their first few conversations, stiff and awkward, thinking the other was a bit rude and not really interested in making small talk. But now, it felt like they could talk for ages; the initial uneasiness was now a distant memory. 

‘’So what brings you here?’’ she started. ‘’Surprised you’re not straight to bed after that long flight.’’

They sat down at a little table in front of the counter, Y/N enjoying her lunch and Harry watching, fumbling with his fingers. 

''Oh, trust me, I’m knackered.’’ he laughed. ‘’But I thought I’d pop in. Remember, I said I would last time, finish where we left off, and all.’’

Course Y/N was remembered. It had been all she thought about for the last seven days. 

‘’Oh right, yeah’’ she said between mouthfuls of her sandwich. ‘’Well,tell me all about this Maldives trip then.’’

✩ ✩ ✩

A few days had passed since Y/N and Harry’s last encounter. And that was all she could think about.

After leaving her cafe to go back to his flat, the pair shared a few jokey text messages: Harry sending her random pictures he’d taken on his holiday and Y/N sharing snaps of new baked goods that she’d made, with him responding with a classic ‘Save me one.’ It was nothing serious, but it was nice to have playful conversations away from her busy working day and Harry’s video shoots. 

Despite only a small proximity separating the pair, Y/N longed for the next time she might bump into him, almost hoping that a parcel would get delivered to the wrong address to give her some reason to knock on his door or that he’d finally succumb to his sweet tooth and trod down the stairs to try whatever fresh baked treats she had to offer. 

It made her laugh that only a few weeks ago she’d dreaded the thought of seeing him and hated the thought of having to make small talk with him, but now it was all she’d thought of. And don’t get her wrong, she was no romanticist or anything of that sort but when she found something she liked or in this case, a person she liked talking to, it was hard for her to take her mind away from them. 

Another day had come to an end for Y/N. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as she wiped down the last table in her cosy little shop. It had been a long day for her, filled with the hustle and bustle of customers coming in and out. She felt swept off her feet trying to make sure everything ran smoothly and made a mental note that maybe it was time to hire some help.

Now, as the clock struck closing time, Y/N couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of her upstairs flat. Locking up the cafe, she made her way up the narrow staircase and into her home. The familiar creak of the stairs under her feet echoed in the empty hallway—a comforting sound that signalled the end of another day’s work. 

As she reached the door, she let out a contented sigh—peace at last. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped into her sanctuary.

The soft glow of string lights greeted her, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere through the room. She’d forgotten to turn them off the night before and was surprised the batteries had lasted the day. Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the hardwood floor to her living area, where a plush green sofa beckoned her to sink into its comforting embrace.

Her days always went the same after work. She’d come upstairs, sit down on the sofa, and stick some random television show on for some background noise, needing to just sit for a moment after being on her feet all day. The stress of the day always melted away as she allowed herself to just be in the moment, relishing the peace and quiet of her own space. 

Next to the sofa, a stack of books awaited her attention. She had been reading some Dolly Alderton novel that a friend had recommended, and so far she was loving it. There was nothing quite like getting lost in the pages of a good book; all she needed now was a nice cup of tea, and she’d be in heaven. 

It’d felt like hours had passed as Y/N finally got to the end of another chapter. The gentle hum of the TV in the background continued as Y/N settled down the book and turned her attention to her phone, wondering if she had any new messages from a certain someone. And lo and behold, she did. 

Clicking the message open, she saw a picture that Harry had taken from what she assumed to be his living room. Her view was similar, just at a different angle—the Shoreditch’s streets looking equally as ‘London’-esque from both their windows. He had added a little message to the bottom of it: ‘This weather is mental. Think it calls for tea and some cake.’ Y/N hadn’t seen the message with her phone on ‘Do not disturb’ and her eyes well focused on the piece of fiction she was reading, and he had sent it over twenty minutes ago, but she assumed he was still next door, not wanting to dare step out in the treacherous rain. 

She wondered if he was hinting at her to send him a text and offer some cakes from downstairs. Or maybe even invite him over to try the pastries she’d sent him a picture of only a few days ago. Of course, Y/N didn’t really know if he was hinting at anything, but she really hoped he was. The time on her phone showed it was just past 7:00 p.m., and having eaten a small lunch earlier in the day, she too was in the mood for some cake and tea, not really bothered by the thought of cooking dinner and having to wash up loads of pots and pans in the kitchen.

She lifted herself up from the comfy sofa and into her kitchen space, opening the fridge to see if she had any nice delights to cure her craving. There sat a small blue tupperware, inside two vanilla cupcakes, left over from the day, perfect. Two. Perfect. 

Whether he had been hinting or not, Y/N took the tupperware in hand and stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers. Unlocking her door and making her way down the stairs towards his door, she felt giddy. She thought it was a nice gesture to turn up with a little treat that he had longed for, and she hoped maybe the two could share a nice chat over a cup of tea as they looked out on the London rain. It’d be nice.

As she got to the door, she lifted her hand up, ready to press the buzzer to his blue door, but as she did, she heard the faint strains of music drifting through the air, accompanied by a girl’s laughter. Her hand froze, and a wave of disappointment washed over her. Doubt crept into Y/N’s mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt whatever moment Harry was sharing with another.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N turned on her heel and retreated back up the stairs to her flat. She knew she was being silly, but she felt a sting in her heart, and she couldn’t shake the image of Harry’s front door from her mind. 

Back in her kitchen. Y/N set the cupcakes on the counter; her appetite for something sweet was now long gone. She wondered if she had misinterpreted Harry’s kindness and their conversations as something more. Sure, the two had shared a few playful texts, updates throughout the day, and random pictures, but that was the extent of it so far. Y/N felt like an idiot. 

She never did respond to Harry’s text that night.

✩ ✩ ✩

Another few days passed, and Y/N had finally gotten over her little strop. Well…sort of. She didn’t have much to go on other than the fact that she’d heard a woman’s voice and lots of laughter, which she knew didn’t necessarily mean Harry had a girlfriend, but she'd rather nip her feelings in the bud than wonder about the what-ifs that could of been had he opened the door. Plus, Y/N felt a bit silly. He’d never given an indication that their chats were anything more than friendly, and the texts they shared weren’t suggestive in any way—I mean, you could probably send your mother the same things. So she knew it was better to cut her little strop short before she got herself all tangled up in her feelings.

She’d had another long week in the cafe, busy with big orders and endless amounts of coffee, and she knew it was definitely time she put out an advertisement for a job vacancy. But that was a job for another day as she was currently getting ready to go out with a few friends in a pub just near Old Street. It had been a while since she’d found the time to meet up with people (with their big city jobs and her never ending hustle in the cafe) and considering she’d given Harry radio silence for the past few days, this was the most socialising she’d done outside of the occasional old lady in the cafe. So, Y/N was buzzing. She reached for her favourite pair of Adidas Sambas, their sleek black design accentuating her style. The leather was very worn despite carrying many stories of past adventures. Y/N made a mental note that she’d get a new pair out of her next paycheck. Her outfit was bold yet chic, a lot different from her usual jeans, t-shirt, and green apron combo. A leopard print midi skirt is paired with a black fitted crop top and a leather jacket over her shoulders to give the outfit unmistakable flair. She always enjoyed dressing up, even if it was just for a quick pint—it just gave her something to do and was a nice change from her usual get-up. 

With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed her essentials—a phone, cardholder, and keys—and headed out the door. It wasn’t raining in London for once, with spring slowly creeping in, so Y/N didn’t bother with an umbrella, deciding her jacket was enough protection from whatever the weather had in mind. It felt nice as she walked along the busy Shoreditch streets with the city lights beckoning, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing—it made her heart squeeze, and she felt like the night was promising her excitement and all sorts of possibilities.

/

The pub night was everything Y/N had hoped it would be. It had been a welcome contrast of warmth and laughter, and seeing her friends, who usually worked nine to five, was a breath of fresh air. With flushed cheeks from all the lively conversations and talks of fond memories, not to mention the five pints of fruity cider she had drank, Y/N left the pub with the cheesiest grin on her face. A few kisses to the cheek and warm hugs later, Y/N waved goodbye to her group of mates and headed back towards the Old Street roundabout. 

The city seemed quieter now; most of its energy was subdued despite it only being 10:00 p.m. Walking around familiar streets, she felt a sense of comfort in solitude but wished she hadn’t forgotten her airpods because there’d be nothing better than a peaceful stroll accompanied by her favourite indie music playlist in the back. 

The pub was only about a ten-minute walk from her flat, so it didn’t take too long, and Y/N felt herself subconsciously speed walking as the cold London air got to her, now regretting her choice of jacket. As she neared closer to her doorstep, she could see a hooded figure placed on it, a backpack in front of them, and a phone in their hand as they scrolled aimlessly. Her eyes felt a bit hazy from the cider, and she approached apprehensively, her mind wandering to the possibilities of it being a crazy ex-boyfriend or a drunken friend hoping to rest their heads for the night. But as she moved closer, her anxiousness eased. It was only her neighbour. Harry. Harry, who she’d given the cold shoulder to for the past few days.

His friendly face looked up at the sound of her approaching footsteps. A slightly flustered expression on his face. 

‘’Hi Harry,’’ she smiled. ‘’You alright?’’

Getting up from his crouched position, he moved aside, letting her stand in front of her own door. ''Oh, you life saver, been waiting ages.’’

She looked up at him, a glow on her face, not too sure if it was caused by the pints or his general presence. ‘’What for?’’

‘’I’ve been a right numpty and locked myself out.’’ he laughed. 

‘’Oh shit,’’ she laughed back, buzzing from alcohol. Y/N was a lightweight by definition; the smell of alcohol could probably get her drunk, and at this moment she felt buzzed.

‘’I know, pain the arse,’’ Harry said, pinching in between his eyes. ‘’Can’t even try to get a key cut because everywhere’s shut.’’

‘’You got any friends that’ll let you crash for the night?’’ Y/N asked, feeling genuine concern for the poor boy sitting outside their doors. She hadn’t even asked how long he’d been there—it could have been hours. 

‘’Tried a few but got no response,’’ Harry sighed, "I guess no one wants a rogue sleepover at 10 at night.’’

‘’Good friends you’ve got,’’ she teased, confidence of drink taking over her. 

‘’Oh shush you,’’ he playfully said back. 

A small silence fell over the toy as Y/N fumbled around in her bag to find her keys, the street light giving her enough of a torch to be able to find them. Every time she drank, she’d experience a small panic that she’d managed to lose all of her belongings, but luckily for her, everything seemed intact. 

‘’So what are you going to do?’’ Y/N said as she went to put her key in the lock.

Harry paused for a moment. While the two had shared the occasional message and nice chat over coffee, he felt a bit bold with what he was about to ask. Not being the most social person, he had weighed out the options of whether or not it would be awkward if she'd say yes to his question—he'd more than likely have to sit chatting for a while and then maybe have an uncomfortable sleep on whatever sofa or bed she’d have to offer—but at the same time, he reminded himself that it was only Y/N and whatever awkwardness could have come between them had well and truly been dissolved by their initial meeting. And truthfully, Harry was all for saying outlandish things and asking rogue questions, so if she did say no, he’d just take it on the chin and find somewhere else to go. 

‘’I hate to ask,’’ he paused sheepishly. ‘’I really do. But by any chance, I could come in for a bit, or at least till one of my friends picks up their phone and lets me stay around theirs.’’

‘’You hate to ask?’’ Y/N smirked, cocking her head to one side. ‘’Am I really that insufferable?’’

Harry’s eyes widened at her words. ''N-no, no, not at all. It’s just that I thought, ’’

‘’Stop your blubbering for a moment,’’ she laughed. ‘’It’s fine, really.’’

‘’You sure?’’ he smiled. ‘’Don’t have to say yes, 'coz you feel sorry for me.’’

And yes, Y/N did feel a bit sorry for the blubbering boy sitting in front of their adjacent doors. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being locked out of her own flat and left out in the cold in London with nowhere else to go—it was a frustrating inconvenience to say the least. Plus, Y/N was always a bit of a generous soul, never really able to say no to people, always biting her tongue when she felt awkward, and with a few pints combined, she was feeling especially generous. 

‘’Honestly, no bother.’’ she replied, unlocking her door. ‘’I’ll probably be awake for the next few hours anyway, so companies are good.’’ An absolute lie on Y/N’s part. Any drink would usually send Y/N into a tired haze, and she couldn’t think of anything better than sticking on her pyjamas and curling up in bed, but it’d have to be put on hold for the night. 

Following her up the stairs and into her living area, Harry let his eyes analyse the room. Fairy lights adorned nearly every wall, blankets crowded on the sofa, a few plants dotted around the room, and an endless amount of cookbooks—while Harry didn’t know too much about Y/N, he could still recognise that her little flat was an exact replica of her as a person. 

‘’Nice place,’’ he said, placing his backpack down on the wooden floor. 

‘’Cheers,’’ she smiled, ‘’similar to yours?’’

‘’Similar size, but mines full of cardboard boxes at the moment,’’ he laughed, ‘’yours has a lot more life to it.’’

‘’Took a good few IKEA trips to get it this perfect, I won’t lie.’’ Since walking in, Y/N had dropped her bag by the door, walking into the kitchen space to find some snacks or atleast a drink to give to her unexpected guest. 

‘’You want a cider?’’ she asked, rummaging through the fridge to find a can of Strawberry Old Mout that she had left over from the last time she had a guest in her flat. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she looked around the brightly lit fridge - it felt weird having Harry in her flat. Different somehow, more intimate than their casual chats down in the cafe or over text. But especially after her little moment of weakness the other day and the fact that he more than likely had a girlfriend, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on being the good host she was. 

"You know what- I’ll take one," he replied,thinking nothing sounded better than a cold cider after his shambles of an evening. ‘’Only if you’re drinking too - don’t wanna start getting leathered on my own,’’

‘’As if you’d get leathered off of one cider,’’ Y/N laughed, passing him a can and cracking open her own, ‘’Plus I’m 5 ciders deep already so think it’ll be me getting leathered, not you.’’

Harry shared a laugh with her, holding his hands up in defeat, ‘’Alright, you piss head. You just been necking ciders on London streets then or what?’’

‘’Oh shut up,’’ if she had been closer to him, Y/N probably would of swatted him on the arm for the absolute nonsense that left his mouth but the kitchen counter separated the two, so she kept her arms to her side, ‘’I was just out in the pub.’’

‘’So that’s what the mysterious Y/N gets up to when she’s not running a cafe,’’ he said, raising his eyebrows as if he’d uncovered some maddening truth about her.

‘’Mysterious?’’ she snorted back regrettably but she couldn’t help it and plus after a few drinks, her snorted laugh always seemed to appear.

‘’Well ye-yeah, mysterious.’’ he paused, taking another big gulp of his drink and Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d managed to finish it by now. ‘’Haven’t heard from you in a few days and then you come swanning in after a few pints, I’d say that’s pretty mysterious.’’

‘’God, you talk some shit,’’ she said, laughing at his use of words. 

‘’S’true though, haven’t heard from you.’’ 

‘’I haven’t heard from you either?’’ 

‘’You liar! I texted you the other night and got no reply,’’ Harry said, clutching at his heart in a playful manner, ‘’really hurt my feelings.’’

‘’You’re such a windup,’’ she grinned, ‘’Didn’t take you as the type to be hung up over no replies,’’

‘’Broke my heart really. I was waiting for you to reply and say you had a cake and a chat waiting for me but got nothing.’

So maybe Y/N hadn’t taken his hints wrongly. 

‘’And then my sister turned up and I couldn’t even come round and pester you for a slice of lemon cake,’’ he continued, ‘’my plan went out the window,’’ His sister! Y/N mentally scolded herself in her head for being so silly that night and thinking the worst.

‘’Your plan?’’ she challenged.

‘’Yeah, my plan to butter you up and then steal every last slice of cake you had going for you.’’ he joked. 

What an idiot, Y/N thought. But a funny idiot, nonetheless. ‘Ah, well, you should have told me your sister was round and I would have been more than happy to share something with her - sure, she would have been better company than you anyways,’’ she joked, in return. She couldn’t tell if it was the ciders making her head feel dizzy or nonchalant playfulness, but she felt giddy and confident. 

‘’No one likes a liar, Y/N.’’ he beamed, ‘’We both know that’s a massive lie.’’

‘’Hmm maybe.’’ 

‘’So, pub, did you say?’’ he questioned, ‘’W-was it a date or?’’

‘’Think I go to the pub on a first date?’’ she said, raising her brow in amusement. 

‘’Nothing wrong with a pint and a bag of crisps for the first date.’’ he defended.

‘’It’s that where you take all your unlucky ladies then?’’

‘’Ha! Unlucky. It’d be the luckiest night of their lives,’’

‘’Oh I bet,’’ Y/N laughed, ‘’But no, just a few drinks with some of my friends. Nothing mad.’’

‘’Very cool.’’ Harry grinned. 

‘’Shut-up,’’ Y/N grinned back in return.

The two fell into a silence, each other not really knowing what to say. Y/N could feel the lull of the alcohol weaning off and she knew she’d be drifting off if she stayed up any longer. She didn’t want to come across rude, enjoying his company but her bed was calling her name and she needed to call it a night knowing she had to be up in  the morning to sort out admin for the cafe. 

‘’I think I might head to bed, I’m feeling knackered.’’ Y/N sighed.

‘’Leaving me all alone, one cider deep?’’ Harry laughed.

‘’Sorry but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for any longer,’’ A giggle uttering from her lips, ‘’You’re more than welcome to stay on the sofa thought until you get your keys sorted and all.’’

‘’You’re a star, Y/N.’’ Harry smiled in return as he made his way to the couch to make himself comfortable for the night. He couldn’t have been more grateful for her in the moment, thinking back to not so long ago when he was out in the cold, locked outside of his flat. Course, they’d made familiar with each other the past few weeks but he couldn’t get over the kindness of the girl - or pity that she had for him - but either way he was thankful nonetheless. 

‘’There’s a few blankets on the side and some cushions so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable,’’ Y/N paused, walking over the basket of random throws and cushions she had by the corner of her living room, signalling him to choose his pickings. ‘’Right, I’ll see you in the morning. Night Harry.’’

‘’Night, Y/N. Thanks again.’’ And that was the last thing he saw, her gleaming smile, cheeks red from alcohol as she walked down the hall to the last room that he knew now was her bedroom and headed to bed. 

/

Y/N woke up with a pounding headache the next morning followed by a dry mouth and a queasy stomach. She hadn’t even drank much but in her defense she rarely ever did so any alcoholic beverage would always send her sideways the next day. Blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through her window, she groaned, regretting the cheap ciders of the previous night. Her memory was a bit hazy, blurred by the fog of alcohol but she did remember one thing. There was a Harry on her sofa. 

Dragging herself out of bed, she quickly sorted herself out, combing through her hair and fixing her pyjamas, not wanting to look an absolute state in front of the boy. She stumbled to the kitchen, head throbbing with every step, desperate for a glass of water. But as she walked into her living space, he was nowhere to be found. Surely she hadn’t been so drunk she had imagined the whole night. 

She could remember everything from the loud music of the pub, the dancing and laughs she shared with her friends. And she most definitely remembered the blue eyed boy that was sat outside her front door, locked out from his home.  

She did a quick check of her phone to see if she had any texts from Harry but the only notifications were a few Instagram tags from her mates and a text from her mum asking what she thought of the banana loaf she had made. Nothing from Harry. 

Walking around the kitchen to grab a glass for her water, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the little notepad she had on her kitchen counter was opened, a few words scribbled on it and a black biro pen next to it. 

On the note read ‘Thank you for letting me stay last night, you’re an angel. I had to leave early this morning to meet the landlord for a spare key but I really do owe you. Let me know when you’re free, I’m thinking of dinner on me? Thank you again, Harry x’ 

With a little smile on her lips as her fingers traced over his messy handwriting, she felt a sigh of relief. Dinner on him, it was and she couldn’t wait.

-

a/n: thank you for reading. sorry for the wait!!! there defo won't be a long wait for part three. this is such a slow burn but promise it gets more cutesy in part three <333

[scarletttries]

NSFW Headcanon Request: Steven Grant (Moon Knight)

Steven Grant + Lingerie: (prompt list here)

- Steven Grant could have gone his whole life never considering women's underwear any further than knowing Bridget Jones's were apparently on the frumpy side (a closet rom-com fan, Steven has seen all the British classic a dozen times over in his so-far-uneventful pursuit of his own dramatic romance.) That is until you came into his life, the first person he had ever had the enormous privilege of falling in love with.

- It may have taken longer than you were expecting from a man you found endlessly handsome and charming, but after a run of almost perfect dates, Steven's nervous clumsiness aside, you were finally straddling his lap on the middle of his plush couch, guiding his hands the buttons of your dress so you could finally show him what you hand on underneath. Fumbling with each and every movement of his hands, and trying desperately to focus on your buttons as his head swam with the intoxicating taste of your lips on his, eventually he undid the final clasp allowing you to shrug off the velvety fabric and reveal the dark red, lacy, matching lingerie set you'd picked out hoping you'd end your night in this position.

- Steven's eyes would be wider than the moon taking in your exquisite beauty, the way the dark colours held your curves, the shimmering flesh peaking through the gaps in the lace, the slight outline of your nipples hardening against the fabric. He was in heaven. He didn't even realise people could look this beautiful, this otherworldly, this completely stunning, and in even more disbelief, that someone this gorgeous would be perched excitedly on his lap, leaving a trail of eager kisses down his neck that almost threatened to have his eyes flutter shut, if he wasn't so afraid to miss a second of this view.

- His hands skim over your thighs, toying with the frilled edges of the lace, a strangled moan erupting from his as you buck your hips against his, bringing his attention to the uncomfortable throbbing between in his legs as his manhood pushes against the tight fabric of his corduroys. It isn't hard to tell that Steven is a huge fan of you wearing a little less, but you start to get the picture as you experiment with different pretty little sets you own, figuring out exactly which ones drive Steven to the edge the quickest. The day you wore a sheer light pink set, complete with suspenders, Steven spent the whole night with his head buried between your thighs, too embarrassed to admit he'd cum in his boxers the moment you kissed him.

- Steven would want to get you some nice lingerie as a gift, but the moment he walked into a London lingerie store he got so flustered he walked into a scantily clad mannequin, knocked it over, apologised, and then sprinted out of the shop and straight home. Thankfully there are more than a few places online to order such a gift, and in fact browsing the range of options available opens up a whole new world for Steven. He never knew bras could come without straps, picturing how much easier it would be to slip his hands inside and let your boobs spill over the top where he could press his lips against them. But why stop there when he could buy you a pretty little bralet with two slits in the fabric exactly where your nipples would sit, meaning Steven could slip his fingers under your shirt and start teasing your sensitive tits, picturing all the fun he'd have getting you worked up as you tried to watch a movie resting against his chest.

- This would lead him to the holy grail of his latest obsession; crotchless panties. When he didn't think there could be any better feeling than slipping your wet lacy thong to the side as he worked his fingers into your greedy entrance, here was the perfect solution. He found himself scrolling through the whole collection, picturing you coming to visit him at work in one of your pretty summer dresses with a pair of these underneath, letting him pull you onto his lap while he stretches you with his hard length, watching you squirm as his colleagues walked by and commented on what a cute pair you were and how much happier Steven seemed these days. Before he's managed to place an order his trousers are down and his hand is wrapped around his aching cock, picturing you in the matching set on the screen, beautifully adorned in lace but with all your most sensitive areas exposed for Steven to play with. His hand starts to move faster as pictures you panting and moaning as he plays with your pretty little clit, chest bouncing as your nipples spill out of your bra, no choice but to let him touch every single part of you. He's picturing the sticky mess he'd leave dripping down the front of your panties when he can't hold back his release any more, the thought of his cum dripping down your thighs with no fabric to stop it sending him over the edge. By the time he goes to bed he's paid for next day delivery and invited you over for 'movie night' tomorrow.

[pitchsidestories]

A night at the Natural History Museum II Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

a/n: this is for the one who requested a KCC oneshot ❤️

masterlist I word count: 1478

The Natural History Museum was already impressive from the outside. You could feel excitement bubbling up just looking at the building. It almost felt like you were a child again.

“Do you girls have everything? You know you can always call me…“, Katrinas voice brought you back to the present. She and her family were visiting London for a few days, so naturally your girlfriend had offered to babysit their daughter. The toddler was bouncing up and down on Kyras hand, a tiny dinosaur backpack on her shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile.

“We know, Mini. But you’re supposed to enjoy your date night with your wife here in London, remember?“, Kyra replied gently. Her Australian team mate gave an apologetic smile; “I know. I just want to be sure.“ “You can trust us. Harper and we will have so much fun at the night at the Natural History Museum.“, Kyra assured her.

You and Kyra had always wanted to attend one of the museum’s sleepover events and now was the perfect opportunity. “I’m sure you three will.“, Katrina laughed. You smiled brightly at her; “See you tomorrow morning.“ “Bye, mum.“, Harper waved at the same time. Katrina bent down to give her daughter a kiss on the cheek; “Bye, Love. Have a good night and be nice to those two.“ She watched as you three walked towards the entrance of the museum.

Harpers eyes went big and bright, taking it all in. With her little mouth forming a perfect O shape, she stared at the whale skeleton hanging from the ceiling. Kyra, in the mean time, was busy preparing your sleeping spot for the three of you. As soon as Harpers gaze fell on the pillows, she tugged on your sleeve; “I’m not sleepy yet. Can we see the dinos first?“ “Sure. That’s why we’re here, right?“, you replied, taking her small hand in yours. “Yes!“, she grinned happily. Kyra appeared on her side, grabbing the other hand of the toddler; “Let’s go then.“

“Girls look this one is huge!”, Harper was stopping abruptly, she was stunned by what her eyes were taking in. Your girlfriend was delighted too when she followed the gaze of the younger girl: “That’s so cool.” “What’s the dino’s name, Kyra?”, Katrinas daughter asked her in a very interested tone. While both of them were looking closer at the skeleton to try and find an answer to her question you were taking a photo of them and sended it straight to the mother of the child who immediately replied with a heart eyes emoji.

Meanwhile Kyra was licking her lips nervously: “That’s a uhhh.” “A triceratops, love.”, you tried to help her out. She shook her head in disagreement: “No, that’s definitely a centrosaurus.” “Are you sure?”, you asked smirking. The finger of the brunette was pointing to the information board below: “Yeah, that’s what this sign says.” “Damn it, but it was close.”, you cursed jokingly. Honest the midfielder answered: “To be fair, they all look the same to me.” “And I thought you were a dinosaur expert Ky.”, you gave her a teasing smile before kissing her softly.

As your lips parted ways you turned around to look after Harper, but she was not standing at the place there she was a few seconds ago:” Harps? Shit, where is she?” “What? She was just right here?”, Kyra mumbled visibly confused. Your face turned white in horror, the same colour as the animal bones which were presented in the museum: “Yes, but now she is not.” “Shit. We can’t have lost her.”, your girlfriend looked equally terrified.  So, you felt the urgence to reassure both of you with following words: “No need to panic, we’ll find her.” “Yeah, she can’t be that far, right?”, the Arsenal player said optimistic. “Right.”

Immediately Kyra started to shout the girl’s name:“Harper! Where are you?” “Maybe she’s in the main hall, that’s where the big whale is in and she loves whales.”, you thought out loud. Your girlfriend sounded sceptical:” She must have been pretty fast for that.” “True and here are way too many people for her to be that fast.”, you had to admit. “Harper?”, Kyra tried again.

You both were gasping out loud when you finally spotted that familiar little face which you feared you lost in the crowd. Harper giggled in response to your facial expression: “You guys should’ve seen your faces.”

“Harper!“, you called her and bridged the gap between you and the toddler. “You can’t do that to us.“, Kyra scolded but her voice was full of relief. You kneeled down and pulled Harper into a tight hug; “Yes, we were so worried about you.“ “But I was just hiding.“, she mumbled, her eyes round with genuine innocence. Gently, you smiled at her; “Next time you’ll tell us when you’re playing Hide and Seek, okay?“ “Okay…“, she whispered, obviously overwhelmed by the situation. You held out your hand, your pinky extended; “Pinky promise?“ “Yes.“, Harper answered, trying to hook her little pinky into yours. “Good.“

You slowly stood back up and Kyra wrapped an arm around your waist. She took Harpers hand with her free hand; “Come here, Harper. Let’s look at the other stuff here.“ The smile was back on the toddlers face as she politely replied; “Yes, please.“ “There’s so much to see.“, Kyra noted while you three walked through the exhibition. You nodded, overcome with fond memories; “Yes, I loved it here as a child…“ “You did?“, Harper looked up to you as if she couldn’t believe that you once were as little as her. “Yes, I came here often with my parents.“, you explained.

Smiling, Kyra bumped her shoulder to yours and told Harper; “But it’s her first sleepover in here too.“ “Exactly. And with you two, it’s extra special.“, you laughed. Your girlfriend kissed your cheek; “That’s so cute.“ With flushed cheeks but a happy warm feeling inside, you turned back to Harper; “Which dinosaur is your favourite so far, Harps?“ “T-Rex!“, the child yelled, followed by a loud roar. She let go of Kyras hand and pretended to have claws, holding her hands like a Tyrannosaurus. It was such an adorable display that you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing; “Yes, that one is impressive, right?“ Harper nodded quietly and came back to hold your hand; “I call him Roar-y.“ “I love that name!“, Kyra giggled, disproportionately amused about the name. “Me too.“, Harper smiled, trying to suppress a yawn. “It’s perfect.“, you agreed.

As you continued to walk through the museum, you could feel Harper slowing down. She got quieter and let herself lean against you at every stop, hiding her little face in your sweater. “Tired, little one?“, you smiled to which Harper vehemently shook her head; “No.“ Kyra grinned at you, obviously thinking the same; “Sure.“ “Not done yet.“, the toddler mumbled.

With a warm smile Kyra offered her: “Want me to carry you?”. “Yes, please.”, Katrina’s daughter nodded. “Come here.” Quickly the Arsenal player embraced her before starting to carry her.  The girl’s eyes were slowly closing: “Okay.” “I knew, she was about to fall asleep.”, you whispered into your girlfriend’s ear. The brunette was grinning: “She is too cute.” “Yes, mini did a great job with her.”, you winked at her.  “I agree.” “Love them both. Should we go to our sleeping place?”, you asked her.  Kyra who started to feel the weight of the toddler agreed: “Yes, let’s go.” “I think that’s ours.”

Carefully the midfielder let Harper down on to the sleeping back:” Perfect.” Amused Kyra demanded:” Come here, let’s lay down too.” “Fine.”  As you two got cozy with an asleep Harper in between who quietly snored the Arsenal player looked at you excited: “This is really cool.” “Told you.”, you quietly said, your eyes still shining. “Yeah, you were right.”, the Australian admitted smirking. Happily, you told her: “And Harper enjoyed it too.” “Especially the Dinosaurs.”, Kyra laughed. You fell into her laughter: “Yes, she loved the t-rex the most.”

“Roary!”, your girlfriend remembered delighted. But she was a little too loud in your opinion as you was worried that Harper would wake up from the noises around her:”Psst not so loud.” “Sorry.”, the Arsenal player apologized. A soft smile was on your lips as you reassured her: “It’s okay, she’s still asleep.” “We should buy her a plush T. rex tomorrow.”, Kyra suggested.

,You adored that idea as you were getting sleepier by each second:  ”Oh definitely, so she won’t forget her night at the museum.” “I’m sure we won’t either. Sleep well, love.” “Good night, Ky.”, you replied, already half asleep, dreaming from the adventures your night at the museum hold. Lovingly Kyra glanced at you while she tucked you in, so you were as comfortable as Harper before closing her eyes too.

[igotlovestruck]

LIPS OF AN ANGEL | MM19

↳ TYPE: ig au (written scenario will follow!)

↳ PAIRING: mason mount x fem! wolff! reader

↳ DETAILS AND WARNINGS: angst (more to be added on the main fic!)

↳ AUTHOR’S NOTE: here you go! 😵‍��� after months omg, i’ve finally had the energy to do this after several revisions n all hahahaha pls wait for the main fic as i’m still writing it, but here’s a lil preview! enjoy <3

↳ TAGGED: @i83andrew @pleasantducktimetravel

—.

fcgossips

liked by user1, user2, user3 and others

fcgossips [sent anonymously]

mason mount spotted with model lia mendes last night in london!

it seems as though mason mount has found himself back to the dating game amidst the breakup rumors with toto wolff’s daughter, y/n wolff. it was reported that the pair has separated ways 4 months ago after y/n deleted all posts and unfollowed the football star; although there was no confirmation happened between the two parties.

we wish mason and his current partner the best 💗

view all 492 comments

user4 that looks so much like y/n lol

user5 i went y/n DOOP as soon as i saw her lmao

user6 *she cuz she’s a freaking PERSON and no she doesn’t look anything like y/n!

user7 seems like mason has a type 🤭

user8 convincing myself that l*a is his getaway car

user9 leave them alone, pretty sure mason wouldn’t appreciate the things yall call her gf

user10 lmao i was thinking the same thing!

—

masonmount

liked by cmpulisic, declanrice, liamendes and others

masonmount recents.

view all 2,829 comments

liamendes meu amor 💗

— ❤️ by masonmount

masonmount 💗

user11 omg no way (i mean this in a very nice and genuine way)

user12 ... so it’s really over with y/n huh?

user13 y/n dupe

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ynwolff

liked by yourbffsig, susie_wolff, yourmomsig and others

ynwolff life lately

view all 2,793 comments

yourbffsig girl i miss u get tf up 😮‍💨

ynwolff lmao visit me at my new place <3

yourbffsig omw 🏃🏻‍♀️

ynwolff come fast before i go back to work this week !?

yourmomsig my beautiful daughter ❤️ all you do is sleep, sweetie 😂

ynwolff been sleeping a lot lately to avoid reality and recent news, ma 🤭 miss you <3

susie_wolff glad you’ve adjusted to the new place, that bed looks comfortable! enjoy 😍

ynwolff thank you for helping me move in, susie 😙 (and jackie too, pls tell him to sleepover sometimes!)

user14 not y/n posting minutes after mason confirmed his relationship 😭

user15 she’s unbothered lmao

user16 stop associating him with her, they’re over ffs

user17 user16 no, yall should stop associating him with her <3

user18 some girls are mourning over y/n and mason’s breakup and here she is sleeping most of the time 😂 welcome back to ig luv 💞

user19 ofc u announce ur return to ig by posting pics of u sleeping 😭 missed u here queen :)

ynwolff it’s all i’ve been doing the past few months <3 jk hahaha

user20 will we be seeing you back in the paddock? 😭

ynwolff hmm maybe ��

[marymary-diva17]

New start in life (4)

bridgerton x reader

The ton was all in the buzz since the return of two former scandals member of London high society. Two years they had been gone and now they have returned, back to London after the rumors behind them proven false. Not everything is the same as it was left when the two had been outcast by their families, friends, and society itself.

y/n " my dear husband I'm going to pay a visit to madam Delacroix, along with the other shops"

Tristan " have fun my love as I will be out as well attending some clubs "

y/n " do you wish for me to come"

Tristan " no I will be good my wife and if you buy anything send, the credit to the home and I will buy for anything my wife heart wishes for"

y/n " thank you" you had kissed Tristian forehead before you had left the home with a maid with you as well, your first stop of the day was the dress shop.

Madam Delacroix " y/n"

y/n " hello madam Delacroix it has been a while hasn't it"

Madam Delacroix " yes it has and I have been told you are now a viscountess, that lives in Scotland"

y/n " yes that is true after the scandal was apart of I had left here, and married Tristain"

Madama Delacroix " you and him make a perfect match may I show you some of, my newest fabric colors and patterns"

y/n " yes please"

Madam Delacroix " what is your colors shades blue like the rest of your family or something new"

Y/n " I still have some blues dress but now have gone with colors like purple, red, and green, pink, few others"

Madam Delacroix " well it always comes a time when a young lady blooms into her own person, and I have fabrics that will be perfect for you"

y/n " thank you" Madam Delacroix had shown you some fabric patterns, that caught you eye and that you dressed you pay. After showing you some design and getting your measurements, the dress orders were place.

madam Delacroix " the orders will be sent to your home"

y/n " thank you and payment will be sent today and after the orders are done"

madam Delacroix " thank you and y/n"

y/n " yes"

Madama Delacroix " it good to have you back with us" you had smiled and nodded your head, as you soon left the shop. You are walking down the street passing by some, members of the ton nodding your head to them.

Maid " ma'am they are acting like they are seeing a ghost are all London ton like this"

y/n " well my dear it has been two years most of them are shocked to see I even came back"

maid " umm well I will say Scotland it far better then London" you had laugh at your maid comment, as the pair soon went to walking on the cobblestone road.

????? " sister" you soon looked up to see your sisters and Penelope making walking towards you.

y/n " hello you three how are you doing this morning"

Eloise " good now being at home after last night balls hasn't been happy"

Francesca " what our dear sister will love to say is that our dear brothers, are having a hard time understanding you are married"

y/n " it will take them so time but they will come around soon"

Penelope " None of your brothers should be looking down on you mostly Colin"

y/n " come lets walk before anyone else decide to speak some nice words to us" the group had soon walked into the park as you looked at Penelope.

y/n " so what has Colin said now Penelope that got you so mad at him"

Elosie " she overheard him laughing about her with some other young man"

y/n " my brother the fools well they are all fools expect Gregory"

Francesca " I miss life in bath but now I'm here to get married"

y/n " well I prat for you three but if London man don't do well there are enough fine, young man in Scotland"

Francesca " sister are you become a match maker"

y/n " maybe I was just giving a suggestion"

Elosie " well sister I will still take the offer to Scotland when it comes, as it will get me far away from here"

Penelope " if leaving had done y/n well maybe it will be good for us as well"

Francesca " I have to agree as well"

Eloise " oh dear here comes mama"

????? " y/n" you soon looked and saw hyacinth and Gregory running up to you, they both soon hugged you once they got close. You had huge them back as well.

Y/n " oh I have missed you both so much and look how big you both had gotten"

Hyacinth " sister we are happy you are home we heard the wonderful news, that you are married to Tristian and live in a big manor"

Gregory " yes you also live in Scotland as well came we come visit you and stay for a while"

Violet " children clam down we should wait until your sister invites us over for a stay, or she might move here to be closer with us"

y/n " Well I have spoken with my husband we don't mind having some family staying with us"

Gregory " that wonderful sister where is Tristan"

y/n " away doing the task of the gentleman of the ton"

Daphne " oh so he will run into Antony and Simon"

Kate " yes they had gone off there with Colin and Benedict"

Y/n " oh that sounds wonderful"

Gregory " How long are you going to be here sister"

y/n " for a good amount of time until we need to return back home, and attend to business there my loves"

Violet " you don't have to rush back home you can still be viscountess and live here"

Y/n " I think it will be best if we return back to Scotland as we are need there, and it will be rude if we leave and move here"

????? " good day everyone" the group soon looked to see the Cressida cowper and her mother standing there.

Y/n " Lady cowper and Cressida good day"

Cressida " good day Viscountess Y/n I never thought you will come back, until last night and married to Tristen as well"

Y/n " yes while we were gone we had gotten married"

Lady Cowper " Violet did you attend your daughter wedding"

Violet " no I didn't it was when she was due to go live in the countryside, but we have been talking about another wedding for all the ton to see"

Lady Cowper " oh such a shame to miss your child wedding, oh viscountess y/n do you have any children"

Hyacinth " do you sister do we have other nephew or niece"

Y/n " no there are no children yet but we hope for some soon"

Lady Cowper " oh that good but dear it was such a shame of what happened to you and Tristian being betrayed by your families, but I thought bridgerton sticks together no matter what right Violet"

Violet " oh look at the time we all most get going come along everyone good day Cowpers" Toilet had moved the group away from the mother and daughter.

Elosie " well mother if you hope to avoid anymore scandal on the family name, that might not help"

Daphne " hush Eloise"

Elosie " I was just speaking the truth"

Violet " my daughters we don't need to fight we need to stand together as a family untied"

Y/n " Untied under what cause"

Violet " the cause of you and Tristan"

y/n " mother there is no need as I remember it not good for me to bring shame and poor reputation to our family"

Daphne " sister what was said that night was taken out of turn"

y/n " that is what you think duchess when I myself think other wise, I think it best if I take my leave right now"

Hyacinth " no sister don't leave please"

y/n " don't cry my sister we will see each other again"

Violet " dearest please don't go I didn't ..."

y/n " good day everyone" you had soon crusty to everyone as you soon walked away you, with your maid fowling as well she gave the older women a cold glare but a warm smile to everyone else.

Later that night

Tristian " hello my wife"

y/n " my husband welcome home how was your day at the clubs"

Tristan " well it was going well I have have some drinks with Will, who is enjoying his life in ton"

Y/n " good for him and his family the news of that made me happy for them"

Tristan " yes everything was going well then Bridgeton brothers and Simon had shown up"

y/n " oh well I was out shopping when I ran into my sisters and Penelope, too. being joined by the rest of the family"

Tristian " oh"

Y/n " we then ran into the Cowper family as well lady Cowper, had some words for my mother and me as well"

Tristan " The cowpers are still the same I see so not that much as changed"

y/n " that is so true my husband so tell me more about your day"

Tristan " well it seems like Antony wishes that we never married, by the looks he was giving me last night rumors going around is that he had some suitors planed for you"

y/n " Antony with match making that is a big jest"

Tristian " it seems like none of your brothers love the idea of our marriage, Simon seems to be coming around I don't know ... if we look at it no one can say anything about our marriage mostly Antony and Simon"

y/n " yes after what happened when they were getting married and Antony past relationship as well"

Tristian " oh yes Siena Rosso the opera singer didn't she come to Scotland"

y/n " yes I had been invited by some of the ladies at home and attend, I ran into and we talked she is doing well"

Tristian " good now what this matter on another wedding for us"

y/n " the ton and our families are mad we got marriage without them there"

Tristan " well I love the weddings we had we don't need a redo"

y/n " what if I wanted another wedding husband will you deny me that wish"

Tristian " no my wife if you wish it then I will make it happen" you soon laugh as you looked at your husband.

Tristan " you jest with me don't you"

y/n " yes I do"

Tristian " that why I love you"

y/n " I hope you do love me or you have been living with me for two years, for nothing"

Tristan " I will live the rest of my life and the next life by your side"

y/n " mister charming I see I'm lucky that none of the ladies, of the ton noticed this behavior before we were married"

Tristian " They will never have my attention or heart like you do, and it seems like the males of the ton are upset that I ended up with you as wife a smart and beautiful women'

y/n. " well everyone lost their chance and we are better fit for each other anyways" the couple had smiled at each other no matter what anyone, tried to do they will never break their marriage vows and marriage as well. They will stay with each other for the rest of their lives and soon enough, make a family of their own as well.

[aithusarosekiller]

Trans Reggie black brothers fic:

NOT EDITED (will be before it goes onto ao3)

Words: 2239

Warnings: outing (sort of, Sirius figures it out and asks him about it but nobody is told against reg's will), reference to bigoted parents

-

The light twittering of birds was silenced as Regulus strode across his room and pulled the window shut with a slight thud. If he wanted to get any work done before he was due to return to school he would have to do it now, or he would put it off until the last minute. It was a bad habit picked up from Dorcas but one he had come to keep under control for the most part. So long as nothing else disrupted him, he should be okay to continue. His parents were at some important function and Kreacher was out collecting shopping so there wasn't too much that could distract him.

He had managed to sit down at his desk and unscrew the lid of his inkwell by the time his bedroom door slammed open behind him. He heard the unmistakable sound of his brother's heavy-footed stomps come up behind him and had to force himself not to snap right then and there.

“Yes?” His tone was clipped but Sirius either didn't notice or actively chose to ignore it.

“Are you busy?” Without waiting for an answer he attempted to sit down on Regulus’ desk, only stopping when he received a murderous glare and shark smack to the arm; he narrowed his eyes petulantly and tried to hide his irritating grin. “Move and I'll sit in your chair then, my legs are tired.”

Regulus pretended to have not heard him and returned to the introduction of his Defense essay. After a few moments Sirius stood and walked over to the bed, sitting down silently and waiting for a few minutes to see if Regulus was going to say anything. Nothing happened.

“Turn around, you little brat.” Nothing. “Please.”

“Don't call me that,” The reply was quiet but Sirius still heard it.”

“Merlin, I try to be nice once,” He grumbled under his breath, trying to keep his composure and her to the point. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Regulus looked at him as if to say ‘go on’ so he did.

“Look, can you just come here? I'm trying to be nice to you and do sibling bonding or some shit so the least you can do one nice thing and not stare at me from across the room? I'll distract Father so you can visit your friends on Sunday if you let me have this.” He let the suggestion sink in for a moment, then watched as Regulus pushed away from his desk, stretching out the time it took to close the ink and place down the quill, then made his way over to his bed to sit at the opposite end to Sirius, his posture perfect and his hands clasped in his lap.

“Posho.”

“Sorry, do you or do you not have a pair of 35 galleon shoes in your wardrobe as we speak?”

“First of all, I got them in muggle London so technically they were £170, not galleons. And secondly, that is a very good price for a well-made, hand crafted, long-lasting product you intend to use frequently.”

Regulus couldn't help but laugh at that. “You sound like Narcissa.”

He didn't stop laughing when he was slapped on the arm or when Sirius snapped at him to shut up, it was only when Sirius attempted to redirect the conversation that his face fell back to his typical moody stare.

“I wanted to talk about school.” He managed to ignore Regulus’ sigh, having grown fairly immune to the constant dismissals by now, even if it still made him feel a little hurt when he thought about it late at night. “Over the summer term and a little bit before that, I've heard-”

“Oh for Salazar’s sake, if this is going to become one of your anti-Slytherin, ‘you're all evil' rants, I really want nothing to do with-”

“It isn't that!” He hissed, almost laughing at Regulus’ affronted reaction to being cut off halfway through his sentence as if he had not just done the exact same thing mere seconds ago. “Stop coming for my throat and give me a change to finish my sentence before you assume you know what I'm going to say.” He took a deep breath and started again. “I have recently been hearing your friends talk to you while you're in the corridor and then again while they're alone. And I noticed a few things.”

It was then that Regulus finally picked up on what the conversation was going to be about.

“Oh, for-”

“Shush, let me finish. I heard you and your friends talking quite a few times and I heard that they called you a different name.” He looked at Regulus knowingly. “You might disagree but I'm not stupid. I mean my grades speak for themselves really, I don't think I did any revision before the day of for my exams and I still…anyway. Your friends were calling you Regulus and they were calling you he and I'm no idiot. I know what that means.”

“You understand names, well done. Maybe you aren't a complete imbecile after all.”

“Alright, you're being rude because you're nervous so I'll let that slide. I know that it means you don't want to be a girl anymore. And that's great! That's okay. I just wanted to give you the chance to talk about it. With me. If you want.”

Regulus looked at him blankly for a while. He opened his mouth to speak at least four times before closing it. Eventually he picked up the courage to actually say something.

“I'm not a girl.” Sirius nodded along. “Your eavesdropping was right there.” Sirius frowned in disapproval but did not get the chance to interject. “I am a boy. My name is Regulus. Yes, like the star. My friends are okay with it because they aren't completely despicable people despite what you Gryffindors may like to think. And you didn't have to interrupt my homework to talk to me about this, you haven't spoken to me besides polite greetings since November.”

“Actually, it was your birthday.”

“December, then. My point still stands, Sirius.”

“Is it rude to ask when you knew?”

“A little bit, yes.” Regulus snapped. “I didn't always know.” He seems to consider telling the story for a second, then decided not to. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Sirius nodded. Maybe if the rest of the conversation went well he would tell him another time. “It's a nice name. Bit long but not bad.”

“Thank you.” It was robotic and almost cold but Sirius was not deterred.

“I might shorten it to Regs. I've heard your annoying friend call you Reggie but you'd probably kill me if I called you that to Regs it is. It's short, efficient, and probably won't get my ears cut off and fed to Kreacher.” Regulus couldn't help a smile like that, which seemed to get Sirius out of his tentative, unnaturally calculated state and make him grin himself. “I'll take that as a yes.”

“Sure.”

“I have a brother,” He mused to himself. Whether it was with shock or glee neither of them could say.

“You can't tell anybody.”

“I won't! I'm great with secrets. Really, name one secret I haven't been able to keep.” He took in Regulus’ meaningful look and recalculated. “Yeah, alright, but I won't tell anyone this. I promise.” He attempted to look as sincere as possible. When he looked down at the sight of movement, he saw that his brother’s hand was extended, palm up and waiting.

Sirius couldn't help but smile when he was it, moving his own hand to place on top before taping each of their fingers together as he muttered the words 'I swear on my life’. It was a silly way of making a promise that Andromeda had taught them when they were younger and caught her writing to her muggleborn boyfriend. They knew not that she had just made it up to get them to stay hushed but they had never really grown out of it. Without a word, they both retracted their hands, but Sirius was now smiling and Regulus seemed at least somewhat more relaxed so it was worth it even if it was a kids thing.

“I just wanted to say that I am glad you were honest with me,” Sirius began the little speech he had prepared in his head. He had gone over it time and time again, attempting to eradicate any signs of his usual self to form a kind, welcoming speech that would soften the situation. “And I am glad that you have been able to find yourself like this.” Regulus groaned into his hands and swore under his breath. “I am here if you want to talk about…this and I would be really happy if you trusted me to talk about you being….a guy now.”

“Oh Merlin, this is humiliating. Stop. Stop. Sirius, stop.” He waited for him to trail off awkwardly before letting out a relieved sigh and beginning his own explanation.

“Okay; thank you but I really don't need a lecture on my ‘validity’. I am aware of it. And I didn't not tell you because I was scared, it was because we haven't spoken properly in months and I doubted that you'd even care. It would be weird, that's why.” He grasped around for another point to make while he had the silence to be able to get a word in. “And don't you think I should have been able to tell you this in my own time instead of just barging in and asking me about it.”

“When would that have been?” He wasn't expecting an apology, but the bluntness of the reply still caught Regulus off guard. “Would you have told me? Would you really? Hm?” He got no answer. “Reggie.”

“The point is that I should've gotten the choice.”

“Well I admit I didn't think it through that much!”

“That's new.” Regulus drawled.

“I was just shocked when you didn't tell me. I was shocked that they knew basic crap about you that I apparently don't. Call me selfish but I care quite a lot about that. You used to tell me everything.” The anger in his voice was barely-veiled. “We used to be best friends but I feel like I don't know anything shoot you anymore.”

“And who's fault is that?”

“Yours! You are the one who got all those amazing Slytherin friends and decided I was the shit on your damn shoe, Regulus.”

“I don't want to do this right now.”

They fell back into relative silence. The sound of the wind against the old, thin window was all they could focus on for a few minutes. Eventually, siris cleared his throat and reached out his hand, patting his brother on the shoulder a few times like he was a delicate animal.

“What are you doing?”

Sirius blinked. “I'm comforting you.”

“Don't do that.”

“Fine, I won't.” He looked away again and waited.

“I can tell you want to ask something else.”

Sirius shrugged noncommittally, then gave in and asked what he had wanted to know the entire time. “Who else knows?” The hint of desperation in his voice was embarrassing but he hoped Regulus hadn't picked up on it.

“My friends,” He provided. “That's all really."

“And…” He didn't need to say it for the implication to be obvious. They both looked towards the doorway despite knowing the house was empty, as if anticipating their arrival. Regulus slouched slightly, seemingly having given up on acting properly.

“Do you think I'd still be here telling you about it if they knew?”

“Don't say that.” Whispering was uncharacteristic for Sirius but he didn't exactly want to say the words that left his mouth, they just sort of did. Giving away the card he held for his brother's wellbeing even after all this time.

“It’s not exactly a shock, is it? The perfect angel of the black family ends up being a man with a woman’s features, guess what happens next.”

“Regulus, stop.”

“...Sorry.” The apology sounded almost forced out but it was better than none at all in Sirius' opinion.

Sirius shook his head lightly. “It's fine. It's not like it's your fault. Hey, uh, if you wanted to, we could go shopping together at some point. Get you some stuff that makes you feel less, y'know.” ‘Girly’ was the obvious end to that sentence. Regulus frowned and turned to face him again.

“I can go shopping with my friends, thank you.” Sirius waited. And waited. Then, “When would you want to go?”

“Why, do you can be conveniently busy that day?” He suggested; Regulus stared silently. “Next Saturday?”

“Okay.”

“Yeah, good, alright. Cool. You're paying for your shit though.” He added as an afterthought.

“What? Why one earth to would you invite me shopping if you're not paying for anything?”

“I'm not your Mum Reggie.”

“You're uglier than her, that's for sure.”

Taking it as the natural lull to the conversation, Sirius pulled a face and turned to leave, spinning back around one step out of the door so he could confirm their agreement.

“Next Saturday, yes?”

“Yes, that is what I said.”

With that Sirius nodded silently and left, leaving the door wide open and Regulus sat on the bed wondering where in the name all of that had come from.

[didyoulookforme]

pov: you go to one of their gigs

old ramble written last year.

warning: 18+. follows no timeline. not proofread, so grammatical errors and typos.

masterlist here

not. this. again.

no matter how fucking hard you tried to keep it together, you somehow always found yourself crying over the same idiot, tall boy. for nearly three years now, you’d tried to shake off your feelings for george but at this point it honestly seemed impossible. you always fell for his attention even though you knew it was a sick, toxic cycle. sigh. you couldn't do this to yourself anymore.

it was mid october. you were at a venue in london waiting for the band to take the stage. george had asked (well, more like begged actually) over the phone for you to come to their gig that night even though you were drained and exhausted. "please. i miss you." you didn't know if his plea was sincere or not, but it made your heart beat faster. you hated to admit you missed him, too.

"fine, but don't count on me for anything after." you had worked 12 consecutive shifts to stash away some money as you wanted to do some travelling around europe. you were in your early 20's. you were supposed to have fun, get lost in random cities, take drugs with strangers, all of those things you saw on films and tv. while you loved london, you wanted to visit some places with a bit more colour to them and try to forget about him for at least a few weeks or so. it wasn't too much to ask for, right?

after he convinced you to show up, you figured you might as well try to make the most of your night out. you stumbled upon him and ross when they were out for a quick smoke, george quick to plant a kiss on your cheek followed by a tight embrace that lingered longer than expected. he was warm and, to your dismay, it made you feel warm inside, too. it seemed that every chance he got, he would touch you in some way, whether a brush of your arm, a hand on your lower back, a gentle grip on your hip. you tried to not think much of it knowing you couldn't afford to get tangled up in this mess all over again. you loved him (to some extent) but the sleepless nights and ongoing fights were not worth it anymore.

when the opening band finished, you made your way to the front to watch them perform from a closer spot. you had attended many of their gigs at this point and you genuinely fell in love with their music, albeit you wouldn't tell them directly. you had too much pride for such confession.

the gig started, the fangirl in you waking up and getting excited to sing along, forgetting about your exhaustion and lack of sleep. matty noticed you, giving a small wave and blowing a kiss in your direction before diving into the next song. while george was the one who unfortunately held your heart, you had a soft spot for the front boy, even having made out with him several times before just for the hell of it. alcohol and weed might have been involved, though...

after a few more songs, you couldn't help but notice the way george effortlessly played on stage, arms moving in calculated motions, messy hair swaying from side to side. he would look straight at you, wink and bite his bottom lip, which just made you laugh. he hadn't changed one bit. you remembered him doing this same routine at your place whenever he craved your attention. and george did it because he knew it worked like a charm. you had to admit it felt nice to have his focus on you, making you wonder if maybe, just maybe, the two of you could work it out again.

when the show ended and the boys went backstage, you managed to sneak yourself back there after 20 minutes or so, in hopes of finding them and saying your goodbyes. you kept opening every door to check if it was their dressing room, but you had no luck for a while.

you twisted another handle, opening the door and your heart sank to your stomach, making you feel instantly sick. in front of you happened to be your dear drummer with another girl's head between his legs. you were not quite sure which words left your lips, but they must've been loud enough for the both of them to turn around and take notice of you. this couldn't be happening. not. again.

you shut the door and quickly walked through the corridor, trying to find the nearest exit to get some fresh air in your lungs. not again, not again is all you could repeat in your head. you couldn't believe that somewhere deep inside your gut, you hoped that this could be the time that george and you kissed once more and went back to your flat together. why did you even think that would happen? and most importantly, why did you even want it to happen? not. again.

"fuck. i'm—i'm sorry." you were staring down at the floor which made you bump into someone. "i'm sorry." you kept apologizing as you made an effort to step away without looking up. you knew there were tears streaming down your face and didn't want anyone to see the mess you were at that moment. but you felt a tight grip on your arm and heard a familiar, warm voice call your name.

this is what finally made you turn around. "i'm sorry, matty. i can't..." you tried to break free from his grasp but he continued to hold on. "what's going on, darling? are you okay?" there was genuine concern embracing his words which made you cry ever more. not right now for fuck's sake.

you looked away, embarrassed at your state and not wanting to admit to him (or yourself) why you were uncontrollably sobbing. "hey. what happened, what is—" his voice trailed off as someone else seemed to be hurrying in your direction, calling your name, too. an exasperated george now stood besides you, breathing heavily. from running or coming in that girl's mouth, you didn't want to know.

"i've been looking for you everywhere. i can explain that," he pointed behind him, "back there." he was still catching his breath and it made you feel sick once more, taking every ounce of control to not vomit at that very second. the colour drained from your face as you started to shake, the tips of your fingers and jaw numb from a dangerous mix of anger and anxiety. he tried to grab your hand but you instantly recoiled, not wanting him to be near you, let alone touch you. "george, don’t.”

you saw as he nervously ran his long fingers through his hair thinking of what to say next. nothing. no words that came out of his mouth could provide any comfort, you were sure of that. you walked away, still trying to find the damn exit out of this hellish place. fuck george. fuck him for always pulling you in so close only to break you into one million pieces.

you finally managed to step outside, feeling lightheaded, heart still pounding in your ears. you found a dimly lit patch of grass and sat down, doing your best to focus on the cold air against your skin to try and keep him out of your mind. you felt so stupid. why did you think tonight would be any different?

great. someone was walking towards you. you stood up to leave. “please talk to me.” you turned to look at him. “please.”

“what do you want me to say, matty?” your hands covered your face as you continued to cry, not caring anymore if he heard you. you felt him inch closer, eventually putting his arms around you, holding you. “why does he always do this to me? why do i always hold on to his every word hoping that things will change? that he will actually want me.”

you felt his grip tighten around your shoulders. “he’s not worth it. he’s my best mate and i care for him deeply, but he’s not worth it,” he whispered into your hair. “please trust me on this one.”

all you could do was wrap your arms around him, yearning to hold someone close, to make you feel like you were for once safe and loved.

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Thank You

Johnny x FEM! Reader

Summary: Johnny finds himself in the comfort of your home after saving you.

A/n: I haven't read or seen a fanfic on him, maybe because his character is honestly a lot but I wanted to write something from the movie, Naked (1993) Mike Leigh. Enjoy-L

Warning: Johnny being Johnny, mention of rape and abuse, reader almost being SA, Johnny talks to himself, Johnny has a crush, act of stealing.

Word Count: 4K

The night was freezing more than usual and Johnny’s slim cheeks were red from the cold. His only source of warmth was the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. He was leaning against a building trying to hide away from the harsh cold winds while watching the citizens of London walking up and down the streets.

His blue eyes pierced at whoever walked past him, they all looked happy, they all looked like they had somewhere to be unlike him. His hands shook from the cold and he placed them under his armpits trying to warm them up. It was futile, his whole body shook from the frigid air.

Shutting his eyes, he started to think about his next plan. Visiting his ex, Louise was a failure. It was pointless even after he hooked up with her roommate, Sophie. The dark haired girl, Sophie, excited him for a while. She had a pretty face and he slept with her but she caught feelings for him. That was a no go for him after Louise, he thinks being in love is pointless after she left him for a new job but he knew deep down she left him because of his ways. Cheating on her constantly and treating her badly. He realized perhaps it wasn't love. The tons of books he read that had love in it, was not the same he had for Louise. He was lonely that's why he had Louise around, he had her for the nights when he couldn't sleep and he needed something warm.

Johnny sighs to himself as he remembers Sophie following him, following his every move, telling him that she loves him and understands him. He slept with her one more time and hit her head against the arm of the couch multiple times making her understand he wasn't a good guy. A part of him, like it though. Being bigger than her but his attraction towards her turned into disgust. She didn't have any standards. Still following him around like a puppy after what he just did to her.

His stomach growled and he can’t recall when was the last time he ate. The girl from the diner was kind to him, she reminded him of a mouse. A depressed mouse, she looked so sad when he mentioned it to her. She went crazy, forcing him to leave her house after she had invited him in. He cursed at her nasty words and he felt bad for a moment, just a brief second. So now, he was out in the freezing cold and his stomach was aching for something.

His eyes shot open when he heard laughter, it was a nice sound. He can’t recollect when was the last time he actually laughed, a genuine laugh. One of those laughs that made your stomach hurt and left you out of breath.

“That’s what I told him.” You told your friend on the phone, crossing the street. Your body shivered when a gust of wind blew. In the corner of your eye you see a tall man with shaggy hair. He looked sickly and his dark clothes were blending in the night.

You nodded, a hello at him when you caught his eyes, you kept walking, telling your friend to repeat what she just said.

Johnny looks at you as you keep walking. You had seen him, Johnny is so used to being in the background, invisible to the human eyes. You had seen him and greeted him like a human with decency.

He’s been standing by the building for hours and no one had even caught his eyes. Johnny looked at them, but they would just simply ignore them and continue on. Johnny is an observer, he’s always been since he was a child. So when a man passed him, he looked at him and it didn't take Johnny long to see the man was holding a knife. He spotted it and he saw a glimmer of the steel of the knife shine under the street lamps.

He saw you stopped by the corner, waiting for the light to turn red so you could pass. You got off the phone. Tugging your bag close to your body, you stuffed your hands inside the pockets of your coat for warmth. Johnny followed the man, throwing the bud of the cigarette on the sidewalk.

Johnny’s quick on his feet, he hears the man breathing heavily. Million thoughts rushed through Johnny's head. The man was thinking of robbing you, perhaps the man was going to kill you or worse. In Johnny's eyes, you were a pretty thing and by the way that the man was following you. That man was going to do the worst thing to you. Unaware of the man coming up behind you. You started to walk across the street when the light turned.

You hear a shout and you look over your shoulder to see a man in a black puffer jacket and a beanie. His dark eyes were wide and his mouth was parted open as he stared at you. He licked his lips as he looked up and down at you. You saw the man standing by the building running behind him and wrapping his arms around the man with the knife as he shouted once more.

You gasped when you saw the knife and without a single thought you swung your purse at the man holding the knife. Johnny released the man when he saw you were about to swing.

You swung your purse at the man’s face. The man with the knife came tumbling down like a sack of potatoes on the sidewalk.

Johnny heard you shout as you swung your bag over the man’s head.

“Motherfucker! You son of a bitch!” Johnny took a step back as you kept swinging. He kicked the knife to the road before the man would wake up and grab it.

"Thank you." You told him before sliding your bag up on your shoulders. Johnny doesn't know what to say. He doesn't recall being thanked before.

The man groaned before falling unconscious on the ground. You look up at Johnny.

"Jesus, love. What you got in that bag?" Johnny asked you as you stepped back from the man on the ground.

Johnny watched as you open your bag and pulled out a glass Tupperware with a hydro flask.

"Should we call the cops? Or the ambulance?" You asked Johnny and shakes his head.

"That asshole wanted to rob you. Probably rape you and you want to call an ambulance for him?" He asked you.

"You're right. Fuck him." Johnny nodded like that response better. That piece of shit didn't deserves your kindness. You were about to walk away when you remember he was waiting by the building.

"Were you waiting for someone over there?" You asked him and he shook his head at you.

You felt bad, leaving him in the cold. He did help you, without his shout. You surely would have been dead. He was nice enough to run and wrap his arms around him to stop him.

“Do you have a place to stay?” You asked as you shivered when another gust of wind blew.

Johnny shook his head once more. “Come on then.”

Johnny doesn’t think he heard you right. His brows knitted in confusion when you turn to start walking and look over your shoulder at him.

“Come on. I’m freezing my tits off.” You said. You hear him behind you.

“I swear if you try anything. I’ll hit you so hard with my bag.” Johnny keeps looking at you. He’s walking next to you and he can see your face up close. You are absolutely beautiful, he thinks to himself. It was a short walk and he followed you into a building. Opening the glass door, you hold it out for him. Walking inside he notices there's another door.

“Excuse me.” He hears you say softly and he feels you brush against him when you take out your keys from your bag. Johnny stares down at you and you unlock the door. Opening the door, you shoot him a smile and he can’t help but smile back. It wasn’t one of those fake smiles that he always received from other people. Your smile was genuine.

“I'm just down the hall.” You tell him as you shut the door after he walks in. The inside of the building was dingy and he notices there’s a staircase to the right side of the hall. He follows you down the hall and notices the welcome mat in front of your apartment. The white paint on the door was chipping and the number of the door was hanging upside down.

Johnny doesn’t say anything. He was just grateful that he found a place to stay for the night. Somewhere warm, he didn’t want to sleep another night in the park, especially in the cold. He rubs his hands tighter for warmth as you open the door.

“Come in.” You tell him and he enters first. The lights turned on and your apartment was the complete opposite of outside the hallway. The hallway was dark and grimy, while the inside of your apartment was colorful. He steps into the room and notices a light brown couch in the middle of the room. There’s a small tv in front of it. He notices the large bookshelf next to a window.

“I’ll get started on dinner. You must be hungry.” You say walking past him, dropping your bag on the coffee table.

Removing your coat, Johnny takes note of your clothes. You wore black leggings with an oversized sweater. You turned to hang your coat and his eyes looked down to see your ass.

“You okay?” You turn to him when you realize he hasn’t spoken.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m -.” Johnny repeats your name and looks down to see your hand is out for him to shake.

“I’m Johnny.” He says shaking your hand. You jumped when you felt how cold his hands were.

“You poor thing.” You say rubbing your hands with his to warm them up. Johnny doesn’t think he ever felt someone so warm like you. He doesn’t know why he becomes so insecure with you being so close to him.

“I’ll make you some tea or do you want coffee to warm you up?” You’re still holding his hand and you look up at him.

His eyes were so magnetic, it drew you in. The lovely shade of blue you have ever seen. He was so tall next to you and you looked down at his lips. They were chapped and he smelled like cigarettes and the cold air.

“Tea would be alright.” Johnny tells you and you pull him by the hand into the kitchen. The kitchen was small. You signal him to sit down on the dining table that only fits two. It was against the wall near the fridge.

“Can I smoke here?” He asked you as you started to turn on the stove.

“Yea.” You answered him while opening a cabinet above the stove. Johnny watched you take out an ashtray and placed it in front of him with a small smile. You move so effortlessly around the kitchen it almost looks like you were dancing. You put on the kettle after filling it up with water.

“Have you lived here all your life?” He asks you while you grab a few things from the fridge.

“No, I’ve been here for three years.” Johnny listens to you while smoking as you tell him where you are originally from.

“Did you hate it over there so much? That you had to come over here?” Johnny asked and was surprised when you weren’t shocked by his question. Not many people will tell their business to a complete stranger. You were open and you didn't seem to mind his questions.

“No, I like my hometown. I came over here for work.” You told them while beginning to cut up some vegetables.

The depressed mouse that worked in the dinner had given him a bath as well. Part of him didn’t want to take it because of what happened with the depressed mouse. He opened his mouth and she got mad and threw him out.

“A shower then?” You told him after you noticed the unsure look on his face.

“Just to warm you up. You don’t want to get sick.”

“Are you always this nice? What are you hiding? Are you making up for something you lack?” Johnny said and was waiting for a nasty reply, but it never came.

You just shrugged your shoulders at him. “ I just want you to feel comfortable in my home. After all, if you hadn't shouted I would've been dead in the middle of the street by now. I would’ve been robbed or raped.”

“If you don’t feel comfortable here. You can leave.” You tell him.

“Or stay here where it’s warm and take a shower while I finish with dinner.” Johnny looks over his shoulder as you walk to the living room.

You were right, the hot water helped him. He was leaning against the tile wall staring at it as the water washed over him. You were so kind that you turned on the water and left him a towel by the sink. He dragged his duffel bag inside the bathroom. He thinks that this will never happen again. Taking a shower two times a day. He felt like a rich man.

His stomach growls when the smell of your cooking hits him. Finishing with the shower, he dries off and gets dressed. Curiosity gets the best of him and he opens the medicine cabinet above the sink. Toothbrush, toothpaste, razors and creams are lined up on the tiny shelves. He takes the bottle of pain killer and takes one. Putting it back, he turns off the light when he walks out. Dropping his bag by the hallway, he looks at the door at the end. It must be your room.

“Johnny.” You call out for him. He walks into the kitchen and the table is set.

“You look 27 now.” You said and he smiles as he sits down. You bring him a knife and a fork over and you see him dressed with baggy pants and a light gray tee. His damp hair is brushed back and slender shoulders are at ease.

Johnny wants to moan loudly because of how delicious the food is. He looks across from you to see you cutting your chicken. The comfortable silence is back again. He doesn’t really like silence, he gets too much into his head and begins to overthink. He starts to wonder why he doesn’t when he’s with you but he wants to talk to you.

“Do you know the butterfly effect?” Johnny asked and you looked up from your plate.

You nod. “Yeah, crazy stuff.”

“Do you believe in it?” He asks and he’s surprised when you nod.

“Have you heard of the Mandela effect?” Johnny for the first time of his life, shakes his head because he doesn’t know. Johnny knows that he is educated because of all the books he has read. There’s a smile on your face and his stomach tenses up by how pretty you look and he licks his bottom lip when you begin to tell him.

“It’s like a false memory that occurs when many different people incorrectly remember the same thing. Let's say there’s an old movie and an actor says something but other people remember it differently. A word can be spelled this but there are other people who remember the word being spelled completely differently.”

“Are you serious?” You nod at him.

“I have the newspaper here. I’ll show you the article when we are done eating.” You told him excitedly.

“So I was thinking. You probably got into a fight with your girlfriend and she threw you out. Am I right?” You asked him.

Johnny remains quiet for a minute and you refill his cup with more water.

“If I say yes, what would you do?” He asked you curiously.

“Well, I’ll have to get my bag for that. I’m pretty sure if she finds out you are here with me. She’ll fight me. I'll have to be prepared. I have never been in a fight with anyone.”

“Put the Tupperware back in the cabinet, love. No one is looking for me.” Johnny said, making you chuckle as both of you kept eating.

“You have a boyfriend? Husband?” You shake your head.

“So you are lacking something?” You frown at him.

“Why do you think I’m lacking something?” You ask Johnny.

“You’re beautiful and you have no one. Do you have a third nipple or something? Something that scares all the dude.” Johnny hears you laugh and he gets quiet.

“A third nipple?” You repeat him.

“To answer your question no. I don’t have a third nipple. I’m single because I haven’t found the right person yet.” You answered him truthfully.

“What’s the right person for you?” Johnny takes a sip of his water.

“Someone you feel comfortable with after being irritated with everyone. Someone you can come home too after a shitty day and they make it all better.”

“I bet there is a line of men waiting for you.” Johnny noticed the look on your face.

“There is but they are just dogs. They want to get their dick wet and I tell them to hire a hooker.” You tell him.

“Would you hire a hooker?” Johnny asked you and you wonder why he’s asking all these questions. He’s so different from the men you met. He’s asking you all of these random questions. It felt like he was trying to make you feel uncomfortable.

“If I was a millionaire, sure why not.” You answered him, and he looked satisfied.

“Why?” You shrugged your shoulders at his question. “Hookers gotta pay bills too, right.”

Johnny nods, he continues eating. You shake your head slowly as you look at him. Johnny was different and you would’ve never talked to a man like you were talking to Johnny. You didn’t care though, you probably wouldn’t see him tomorrow.

Johnny is reading the newspaper on the couch as you showered. He read the article and he was enthralled by it. He looked at the books you had, his fingers glided across the binds of it. He hears you come out of the bathroom and he tiptoes to the hallway. He sees you wearing a towel around your wet and naked bare body. You’re walking to the bedroom and he goes back to see the books.

He came around a small desk and saw a picture. It was the same boy he saw in the picture on the fridge. The little boy was wearing overalls and had a toothless smile. He was sitting on your lap, and you were looking at the camera with your own smile. Johnny’s chest tightens at the side of the picture.

His mind wanders deep and he imagines what if that was you with his kid. He’s never thought of kids before. Never really wanted them. He doesn’t know why he’s thinking of it but the picture of you holding this kid looks so cordial to him.

“That’s my nephew and godson.” Johnny looks over his shoulder. You’re standing in the living room, barefooted with shorts and a flannel shirt. The towel is over your shoulders and you walk towards him.

“He’s cute.” Johnny said as you walked towards him and pulled out an album from the desk drawer. You give it to him. Johnny takes it and walks to the couch.

He can smell the body wash from your body and he places the album in his lap to cover his semi hard on. You sit next to Johnny on the couch and he opens the album. You pointed out family members here and there as Johnny looked through the pictures. Johnny stops at a picture of you. Without a thought, he brings his hands up and traces the outline of your face.

“It was my last day at home. This was before I came here.” You mumbled and looked over at Johnny. He meets your gaze and for a moment. No words were said, just two people staring at each other. You found him attractive and your senses came to you. You look away to take a look at the clock hanging by the wall. You pushed yourself up from the couch. Johnny stares at you as you walk past him and open the door of the small closet near the bathroom. You walk back to him with blankets and a pillow.

“Here you go.” You said and Johnny places the album on the coffee table.

“I can stay for the night.” He told you in a surprised tone.

“Well of course, that is if you like to stay over tonight.” Johnny nods.

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing you’re out in this cold.” You commented as you fluffed the pillow and handed it out to him.

“The tv remote is over there. Feel free to use the tv or read any books. If you’re still hungry or thirsty, help yourself in the kitchen.”

Johnny graciously grabbed the blanket from the couch you laid out. It’s the softest thing he has ever touched.

“Goodnight.” You tell him and start to walk back to your room.

“Wait!” You turn around at Johnny’s voice.

“It’s a bit early, isn’t it?” He said looking at the clock. You raise a brow at him, 11:00pm is early for him.

“We can watch a film.” Johnny said, pointing his finger at the television.

You got the feeling that he didn’t want to be alone. You knew that feeling all too well sometimes you wanted to be near someone and feel their presence. You thought about what your friends would say if you tell him about tonight obviously they will yell at you for being a complete idiot and inviting a homeless stranger to your home.

“You better not hog the blanket.” You tell him, he smiles as you walk back to the living room and sit on the couch.

Johnny wakes up by the smell of food. He yawns as he pushes himself up from the couch. He feels good, he feels well rested. He remembers watching 10 minutes of the film before shutting his eyes. The last thing he heard was your soft voice saying goodnight.

“Morning.” He looks over at the kitchen to see you frying an egg. Johnny sits up and cracks his shoulders. Pushing himself up, he walks into the kitchen.

“Sit down.” You tell him, setting him a plate on the table. He obeys and starts digging in.

“I’ll have to work soon. You have a place to go?” You asked to sit down to eat your breakfast.

Johnny's slim cheeks are puffed out with all the food he stuffed in his mouth and nods. You don’t believe it because he grabs another toast quickly from the table, shoving it in his mouth. Almost like saying he won't know when will be the last time he gets to eat like this.

Johnny got dressed after breakfast and waited for you to come out of your bedroom. He’s waiting by the door as you grab your lunch from the fridge. You don’t even notice the picture of you holding your nephew missing.

Johnny follows you out of the apartment and out of the building.

“Walk with me to my job?” You asked him and he nodded. Johnny asks what you do and he listens as you tell him.

Johnny has his duffle bag behind him as he crosses the street with you. Stopping by a large building, he looks up at it and whistles at it.

“Have fun wasting away at work.” Johnny's remarks made you roll your eyes.

“Well, a girl gotta eat, Johnny. Have to waste away for a bit.” You tell him and his eyes shine at your response.

“Bye.” You tell him and Johnny doesn’t want to say bye. He wonders if he will ever see you again. He turns around to start walking to nowhere.

“Johnny!” He hears you shouting his name and he looks over.

“Pick me up at 6:00pm. We can have dinner again if you want.” You tell him and Johnny nods. He tells you he’ll be here to pick you up.

He watches as you walk into the building and he turns around with a little pep in his step. He walks to a park and sits on a bench. Opening his duffel bag, he takes out a raggedy book, some of the pages are ripped out of the bind. He keeps it together with a rubber band. He takes it off to read it, he opens the first page and sees the picture of you with your nephew. His eyes stared at your pretty face and a warm feeling filled his chest.

He remembers the first words that came out of your mouth.

Thank you.

[dc-marvel-life]

That Dang Snake

Pairing: Hermione Granger

Summary: Hermione starts to get the attention of an unlikely Slytherin girl

Word Count: ~2k

A/N: Final Part! Or is it....... Send in request

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Narrator POV

It has been a few weeks after Hermione and Y/N’s dates, and things are going great between the two. They have gone on serval dates in Hogsmeade or London. They very much enjoy being in each other’s company. Hermione took Y/N to her parents, which surprised them. They thought Hermione would bring Ron home and say they were together one day. 

Hermione’s parents didn’t care that Y/N was a girl. They were just delighted that Hermione was happy. They also loved Y/n, who was very charming towards them and won them over.

Hermione even helped Y/N find a new place to live since she got kicked out of her parent’s house and the family name. They found a small, cute place in London where Y/N can stay on breaks once she finishes school. It is close enough to Hermione to come and visit and even stay the night if she wants.

Now Y/N and Hermione are chilling in the Gryffindor girl’s dorm on Hermione’s bed. Hermione is reading a book while Y/N is working on a unique project that Hermione doesn’t know about.

“So, are you ever going to tell me what you have been working on for the past week,” Hermione says, peeking over her book.

“Not yet, it is a surprise, and you’ll have to wait a bit longer,” Y’N says, continuing to work. Hermione lets out a loud sigh and closes her book.  She climbs her way to Y/N and puts aside her project. 

“Please be careful, Mione, it is very important,” Y/N protests while Hermione sets it aside. Once Hermione puts it aside, she sits on Y/N’s lap and wraps her arms around Y/N’s neck. Hermione leans in and starts to make out with Y/N. Y/N gives in and kisses her back. After about a minute, Hermione pulls away and looks Y/N in the eye.

“So are you going to tell me now,” Hermione says, inches away from Y/N’s lips. 

“No, just wait until later tonight, and it will be all done,” Y/N says, then lean in to continue to kiss Hermione, but Hermione pulls back.

“Let me try and persuade you another way,” Hermione says and tries to lift up Y/N’s shirt, but Y/N stops her. Y/N and Hermione have been going on dates for about a few weeks now, and they aren’t officially dating. They haven’t had sex yet, and the only thing they have done was made out. Y/N did not want to rush into things since they weren’t officially together.

“Did I do something because you never want to go further? Do you not find me attractive anymore?” Hermione questions Y/N and Y/N feels instantly bad.

“No, not at all, Mione” Y/N kisses Hermione on the lips, then pepper kisses her face.

“You are the most attractive girl I have ever seen. Don’t ever think like that again,” Y/N comforts Hermione.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, making sure.

“Yes, I am,” Y/N says, then reaches over to grab the project she had been working on for a while.

“Read through this but be careful because I haven’t added the final pieces,” Y/N says, handing Hermione a handcrafted book. Hermione looks over the book and looks at the craftsmanship that is shown.

“I made it all myself. I could make the book from leather that Hagrid gave me and even made the paper from old newspapers and notes that I had lying around,” Y/N says proudly and watches Hermione open it.

Hermione opens that book to see Y/N’s handwriting. The book is a long love note to Hermione, and on the last page, it says, ‘Will you be my girlfriend?’ Y/N waits until Hermione reads the whole book. While Hermione reads, she starts to tear up because Y/N wrote so many nice things. Hermione finishes the book and closes it gently, then stares at Y/N.

“So, do you like the book?” Y/N asks, and Hermione hugs her.

“I love the book so much, Y/N, thank you. Also, yes, I will be your girlfriend,” Hermione says while hugging Y/N in her lap.

A few days have passed, and everyone knows Y/N and Hermione are dating. Most people are happy for them, but some aren’t happy. The people are the girls that wanted to be with Y/N and Ron. Ron was never a fan of Y/N, but now Y/N is dating Hermione.

Y/N now stands up for the gang if Draco comes around to mess with them. Now the gang can see how nice Y/N really is and how much happier she is with Hermione. Everyone can also see how Hermione is much happier and more relaxed since dating Y/N. 

Y/N even started to eat meals with the gang at the Gryffindor table with Greengrass. It was a way for Y/N to be closer to Hermione and be close to her friends since Y/N is still being excluded from Slytherin. 

Y/N didn’t care too much about being excluded; she was okay as long as she had Hermione. 

Now everyone is talking about the upcoming Yale Ball. 

“So Hermione, what are you going to wear to the ball,” Ginny asks.

“Well, I don’t know yet because someone hasn’t asked me to the dance yet,” Hermione says, looking over at Y/N.

“You know you still have to ask your girlfriend to the dance even if you are dating right,” Greengrass says.

“Yes, I know that, Greengrass. Just waiting for the right moment to ask her,” Y/N says.

“The ball is just a week away. You should as soon, or someone else will take her from you,” Ginny says jokingly.

“Yeah, this is not how you treat a woman. Hermione, if Y/N doesn’t ask you, then I can be your date,” Ron says hopefully, and Y/N gives him a death stare.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that, Ron. Maybe you should focus on getting an actual date and not try to steal my girlfriend away,” Y/N says, tired of Ron trying to step in.

“I need to get going and prepare for my next class,” Y/N stands up and grabs her stuff, “I’ll meet you tonight, so wait up for me, please,” Y/N says to Hermione and gives her a kiss. Hermione nods and watches Y/N walk out of the great hall.

Later that night, Y/N sneaks into the Gryffindor dorm and enters Hermione’s room.

“Hey, Mione,” Y/N says, approaching Hermione and kissing her quietly, so they don’t wake up the others.

“Hey, why did you want me to wait for you?” Hermione ask.

“Well, wouldn’t that ruin the surprise,” Y/N says, smiling, and Hermione raises her eyebrows.

“Come on, and I will explain later,” Y/N says with her hand out. Hermione grabs it and follows Y/N outside the castle.

“What are we doing out here now?” Hermione questions.

“Just wait for a second, and you will see,” Y/N says, looking up. Hermione looks up to see what Y/N is looking at and sees a hippogriff flying. Hermione is in awe. The hippogriff sees Y/N and comes down to her. They greet each other, and Y/N starts to pet it.

“This beautiful beast's name is Missy. Missy, I want you to meet someone special; this is Hermione,” Y/N says to Missy, and Missy bows to Hermione. Hermione is shocked and bows back at Missy.

“This is going much better than I expected,” Y/N points out. 

“Where did you find her” Hermione questions while petting Missy.

“One day, I needed some supplies in the forbidden forest. I saw Missy tangled up in some trap. She was injured, so I nursed her back to health. Now she comes and sees me every night,” Y/N says, smiling at Missy.

“So that’s what you have been doing late at night and not getting any sleep,” Hermione says, and Y/N giggles.

“Yep, I mean, I had to practice riding her before I took you on a ride,” Y/N says, looking at Hermione, who is shocked.

“You know how to ride her?” Hermione questions while Y/N climbs onto Missy. 

“Yes, I do. I have been practicing for the past two weeks. I wanted to show you the views, which are almost as beautiful as you,” Y/N says with her hand out, waiting for Hermione. Hermione blushes and takes Y/N's hand to help get on the back of Missy. Once Hermione and Y/N were securely on Missy, they took off into the night. It was an extraordinary scene flying over Hogwarts and seeing everything simultaneously; it was perfect.

“So, how do you like it?” Y/N asks Hermione while slowing down Missy.

“This is amazing! Thank you so much for taking me up here,” Hermione hugs her tighter.

“I am happy that you like it. The reason why I brought you up here is to ask you to the Yale Ball. I know it is not big and fancy like everyone else being asked out. I wanted this to be an inmate and personal” Y/N smiles at Hermione, hoping she will say yes.

“This is very inmate and personal, so I must give you that. Plus, I would rather have a more personable asking than going big and letting everyone know. This is perfect, and I couldn’t have asked for it any better. Now I do have to see if I am busy with the dance. I have had many people ask me out,” Hermione says, trying to hold back a laugh. 

“As long as those people aren’t Ron, then I am okay, and I have to have the first dance,” Y/N says, looking back at Hermione.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that because I will only be dancing with you,” Hermione says, leaning forward to kiss Y/N on the cheek. Y/N starts to cheer in happiness, and Hermione laughs at her girlfriend. 

Flashforward to the ball, Hermione wears a cute green dress, and Y/N wears a red jumpsuit to represent each house. They have a magical time together, dancing, hanging with friends, and having a little drinking involved.

During a slow dance, they look into each other’s eyes with so much love for each other.

“You know, I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else, but you're right,” Y/N says to Hermione.

“I know, my sweets, and I couldn’t imagine being here with anyone else either” Hermione leans up and kisses Y/N. Y/N kisses Hermione back with so much passion.

“I am ready for the next step with you,” Y/N says, looking into Hermione’s eyes, but Hermione looks at Y/N, a little confused.

“What do you mean by that,” Hermione asked to understand more.

“I am ready to make love to you,” Y/N says and kisses Hermione.

“Ooo,” Hermione says after the kiss. Maybe it was the alcohol in her, but Hermione was ready to act now. She takes Y/N’s hand and leads them out of the ball.

“Mione, where are we going? The party is still going on,” Y/N says, standing in place, not moving until Hermione gives her answer.

“So, do you want to go to mine or your room?” Hermione says with her eyebrows raised, holding a flask that Ginny brought. 

“My room,” Y/N says and runs to her room. Hermione follows, giggling all the way there. They get to the Slytherin door, and Y/N says the password to reveal the door. They walk into the common room and head up to Y/N’s room. 

“Are you sure you are ready for this?” Y/N asks Hermione one more time. 

“Yes, I am,” Hermione says, pushing Y/N onto her bed. Hermione gets on top of her.

Taglist: @fanficaddictcore

[djarins-cyare]

✨Questions Tag Game✨

Thanks for tagging me @burntheedges 🩵

Of course I’m going to add GIFs and images. Did anyone really expect me to post something without visual aids??

[photos are my own (apart from the one immediately below, which is from here), and unless otherwise credited, GIFs were made by me during office hours when I was supposed to be working… 🤫]

Do you make your own bed?

Not in terms of making it look all neat and tucked in, no. But that’s because I’m a teensy bit of a germaphobe, and humans naturally sweat at night, which means you must leave your mattress uncovered for a while after you get up to ensure it airs. So, for most of the day (because I forget to straighten it up), my bed just looks like this:

(Just for fun, how many Mandalorians can you spot in the pic?)

Favourite number?

It’s always been 2, and my reasoning used to be that all good things come in pairs. But having discovered my autism in recent years, I’ve come to realise it probably more likely represents the maximum number of people I’m most comfortable interacting with at any one time. So it’s a manageable number. It’s also an even number. And it’s a prime number (in fact it's the only even prime number). It’s a pretty number – it has a nice curved top and a solid, sturdy base. It stops 1 from being lonely, so it’s a kind number.

Is this a weird answer? All of these are really logical reasons to me!

[GIF found here]

What’s your job?

It’s become so specialised that I no longer have a job title, but I started as a legal PA for one of the senior partners at a Legal 500 law firm in London. I flirted with the idea of qualifying as a solicitor but realised there was no way in hell I’d be comfortable standing up in court and speaking in front of lots of people (and I work in the criminal law department so not keen on casually chatting to criminals either). Instead, I decided to become The Person Who Knows Everything.

So now I write briefs to Counsel, proofs of evidence, funding applications; I analyse evidence, conduct legal research, advise the solicitors on their cases; I train paralegals and admin staff; I do a load of data analysis and make pretty spreadsheets for the bosses; and I manage the firm’s IT needs because I can do computer stuff too. I’m basically their go-to girl for anything that seems complicated or time-consuming… and I don’t have to wear a stupid wig in court.

And the best part is, during Covid lockdown, I demonstrated I can do 100% of my job from home, so I was allowed to move 150 miles away, and I now only have to visit my office two days a month! 🙌🏻

Downside: the arduous and random nature of the job means I’m never up to date and always very tired.

If you could go back to school, would you?

My original plan after getting my undergrad degree was to do a Masters and PhD and become an academic, but I put all that on hold for my (now ex) husband so he could finish his PhD and first postdoc. I’m very glad I never went back, though, because I realise that academia is not the place for me… see above comment about not being able to stand up and talk in court to understand why standing up and talking in a lecture hall would be equally nerve-wracking for me. So, no, I’m content with my current level of schooling.

Honestly, university was more about learning how to ‘adult’ properly than obtaining any useful knowledge on the course anyway (she says, routinely using concepts learnt on her fiction writing modules when crafting Mando fics).

Can you parallel park?

Yup. Narrow roads and a lack of parking spaces in the UK kind of make it a non-optional skill here.

That said, I do sometimes see people desperately trying to line themselves up to get into a space and making an absolute farce out of it, so I guess maybe some people here think it’s optional, but I’d rather not have that kind of stress, so I practised until I could do it easily.

[original GIF found here and then cropped]

Do you think aliens are real?

The way this is phrased… do I think they’re real? Like, do I think the grey ones with big black eyes are anally probing residents in certain sections of North America on a regular basis? Hmm, no. Too many episodes of The X-Files. I mean, Fox Mulder: yum, but I really Don’t Want To Believe, thanks.

But, I remain open to the idea that alien life has evolved elsewhere in the known universe. It’s inconceivably huge, after all. There’s nowhere near enough data to prove (or even speculate) either way – just look at the Drake equation, which has been used to both ‘prove’ and ‘disprove’ the possibility – so I’ll reserve any kind of judgment until some real evidence appears.

Can you drive a manual car?

Yeah, of course. It’s the standard driving test in the UK and allows you to drive both automatic and manual – you actually have to specifically ask to learn only automatic if you decide you can’t handle gears. And, like, it’s all muscle memory, so it’s really not as hard as people think once you’re used to it. I tried to drive an automatic a few years back and found myself involuntarily shadow-shifting the gears!

[original GIF found here and then trimmed for length]

What’s your guilty pleasure?

Mostly, I don’t feel guilty about indulging in pleasures these days. I used to be really affected by social pressures (back before I discovered my autism and still felt like I had to ‘mask’ and fit in), so I used to feel guilty talking about my hyperfixations, but now I couldn’t care less. I shall consume them endlessly and unselfconsciously. It’s very liberating.

Any phobias?

I suppose the answer is sharks, which has no sensible basis for being a phobia because I’ve never had any real encounters to make me fearful (thank fuck!). In fact, I walked through the shark tunnel at SeaWorld just fine as a 7-year-old. Unless that planted some kind of seed of terror, I don’t know. Not sure when it really took hold, but I can’t even look at photos these days. It’s their damn teeth. Someone’s going to have to give me a tooth report on Gladiator II before I can go see it.

The hell if I’m gonna put a photo (or God forbid a GIF) of a shark here, so, umm…

Favourite childhood sport?

Two answers: (1) Football (AKA soccer). I played for a girl’s team when I was about 11, but it was only because the boy I liked was into football. I couldn’t give a shit about it these days, and I don’t think I ever really liked it – I was just ‘masking’, as I did for most of my childhood, but I convinced myself I loved it.

(2) Karate, which I decided all by myself that I fancied doing, then found I was actually quite good at it and excelled at it for a while. But I was 9, and they decided I was so good that I should go and join the adult class (age 14 and up), which I hated, so I quit.

[GIF is one I already had saved from Reddit a while ago, but I can't find the source anymore, so sorry for not crediting the maker]

Do you talk to yourself?

Sometimes, but not often. I live alone, so I occasionally just need to exercise my vocal cords lol. It also depends on what mood I’m in. On an average day, no, I don’t really feel the need to fill the silence, but if I’m excited/animated/annoyed in some way, I might say stuff aloud. Basically, if I’m inclined to utter curse words for any reason, I’ll probably use other words aloud too.

[GIF found here]

Tattoos?

I only have one right now, but I plan to increase that number someday. See photo below; I used to have chameleons as pets and got this tattooed near my right hip when I turned thirty to commemorate them. It’s really small.

I would like to get a phrase in Mando’a inked on me somewhere, probably “Kaysh meg miit’gaana, oyacyi”, which means “she* who writes, remains” [*substitute chosen pronoun – Mando’a doesn’t distinguish genders], and is a Mandalorian proverb teaching that you can live forever if you leave behind written words. I have it engraved on my iPad.

Favourite colour?

Very much the blue (with a hint of green) end of the colour spectrum. For something soft, duck egg blue, or for something bold, teal. See the colour of the titles in this post.

I also like the colours of hyperspace and would happily snuggle up with Din in the cockpit.

Do you like puzzles?

Yeah, I guess. I don’t dislike them. But I don’t really do them much. In terms of the crossword/sodoku/brain teaser sort, I might choose to do them in specific settings, like on vacation when I inevitably need to offer my brain something different than whatever book I’m binge-reading.

In terms of the jigsaw type, I have short phases of thinking, “Ooh, that’ll be fun!”, trying to do one, getting bored, and then forcing myself to finish. Last time that happened was Covid lockdown. Took me a year! Though, to be fair, it was one of these bastards…

Okay, I’m done. I realise I’m very late to the party, and a lot of people have already done this one, so sorry if you’ve already participated. No pressure (and no need to illustrate with gifs and images, I just can’t help myself)… 🩵

@604to647 @beefrobeefcal @d4rm4nd4 @feral-ferrule @gracieheartspedro

@joelslegalwhre @littlemisspascal @magpiepills @penvisions @quicksilvermad

@secretelephanttattoo @studioghibelli @syd-djarin @the-mandawhor1an @zaddymandalorian

[miscling]

🗣

It's experience with bottom surgery please

How it felt before, talking with a surgeon, recovery, how it feels after, and any other thoughts it would like to share

~GLaDOS

this thing had bottom surgery in 2013 on the NHS, back while it was still being called SRS (sexual reassignment surgery), and it was the only surgical option available to it at the time. it's gonna put the story/details under a cut though, because this is gonna be long...

(thanks for the question!)

what's kinda interesting is that while this thing knows it has a neo-cunt, so must, theoretically, have not had a cunt beforehand, it actually doesn't remember much about what it was like to not have a cunt outside of a few brief memories and strings of thought. it knows that it was deeply dysphoric about not having a cunt so as soon as it realised these options were open to it, it rushed at them with all the fury of a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't about to let anyone stop her from getting it.

talking with surgeons was a little awkward, since they have to handle your junk, and there was a whole thing with how there were two surgeons doing NHS surgeries at the time and one of them had pissed off its ex so it got on the books of the other for its own surgery. he was a nice enough guy, though it hadn't actually met him more than once before the surgery. appointments were limited for that kind of thing.

for the surgery itself, it went down to london on its own, spent the night in a hotel, and the next day went in for the surgery. it remembers getting so nervous in the waiting room on its own, thinking about how it could have just walked out and left and no one would be able to stop it, it was 100% free to make that choice. it stayed. there were risks involved, but at the time it had come to a place of feeling like even if the surgery fucked up and it was left with nothing at all down there, it would be worth it to be rid of what had been there.

it remembers the next week kinda hazily. it remembers the first poop it took after its surgery was like four days after and the size of a large rat. its nestie and its mum and some friends visited it over the week it was kept in hospital, and it spent its time on a ward with a bunch of other trans girls. most older, one younger, though it kept itself isolated from them all. it's a little sad about that, but it really just wanted to be left alone so it could recover; it wasn't a holiday, it was recovering from surgery. when it left the hospital it ate a ham salad, got a train ride home - first class - and was seen to its own bed where it wishes it could say it recovered peacefully over the next few weeks...

remember the salad it mentioned a couple of lines up? it got food poisoning. it spent most of a week basically unconscious except to dilate. it could barely eat and was put on a diet of liquid electrolytes by a gp who had to do a home visit. also, while it was recovering, one third of the poly triad it was in decided she wanted to kill this thing because she couldn't handle that its nestie loved it and she had to share their attention (that lass should never have been pushed into poly with us). aaaaanyway... the short version is that it doesn't remember much of early recovery except that dilation was a massive chore around being sick and dealing with that crap.

it did, of course, survive all that and it now has a cunt that it's quite proud of. it looks good, feels great, and is a great place for girls to stick their dicks if that's something they'd like to do. lewd comments aside, it's usually pretty happy to let trans girls take a look and explore it in a non-sexual way too. it's a lot harder to absorb fearmongering around the surgery when you can see for yourself what's likely to happen - this thing's surgery was smooth and successful.

this thing's cunt needs a little extra lubrication for sex, but it is basically everything you'd expect from a cunt. it's great, tbh. it hopes that anyone who wants a cunt like this can find a way to get one. it knows that the NHS is an absolute disaster for trans healthcare now, so it knows how lucky it is to have been able to strike at the perfect time to get through the system and get its surgery when it could. if it'd been off by even as little as a few months, this would be a very different story.

thank you for the ask! it hopes this has been at least a little informative. it's willing to answer questions about the technical side of things pretty clearly. it's all ancient history, to be honest.

[shebeafancyflapjack]

This was what I originally thought was going to happen as I was watching the exorcist scene. Had planned to write this as a fic but don't think I've got the energy.

-

Everything is the same up until the exorcism. Only when Alison gets down there, she sees the ghosts all stood in front of the Vicar, frozen as he speaks. They shout at her that they can't move. Alison tries to tell him to stop but Betty encourages it to continue. Alison slaps the Bible out of his hands but its too late - a bright light shines down on the ghosts, blinding Alison for a few seconds, then when she opens her eyes they're gone.

Panicking, she begins running around the house, calling their names, begging them to show themselves so she knows they're OK. But nothing. Eventually Betty finds her collapsed in tears. She asks why she could be upset and Alison explodes at her about how she had no right to do that, how the ghosts were her family and she's just sent them away. Betty is shocked and then feels awful once the truth settles but also berates Alison for not being honest. Mike finds Alison and holds her, telling his mum it's best she goes.

Alison doesn't sleep all night, having waited for the ghosts to come back if they could. The next morning Mike suggests they take a walk with Mia. They walk towards the lake and a bereft Alison is promising Mia she's going to hear all about her aunts and uncles who loved her so much. Like how sweet Auntie Kitty was, how naughty Uncle Julian was-

"And how handsome Uncle Thomas was?"

And Alison replies: "Yes how handsome Uncle Thom..."

She pauses. Then turns her head.

The ghosts are stood there, on the other side of the fence, smiling at her. She screams in shock and relief and Mike is confused but also relieved once Alison confirms they're all there and all safe. She asks what happened and they say they saw the same light but then woke up outside the grounds.

And now they can't get back in.

The exorcism didn't make them get sucked off; it banished them from the grounds. Alison asks if that means they're stuck in Maddox's place now. But Cap has already done a run and found he could go farther then Maddox. There doesn't seem to be any boundaries for them anymore.

Kitty begs Alison to call the Vicar back so he can undo it. Julian suggests perhaps a Satanic priest might be better. Alison hesitates and then asks; "Is that what you guys really want? You're free now. You can go wherever."

That hasn't really sank in for them, they're more concerned with being separated from Alison. But Alison tells them she's not interested in staying in the house either; not without them. If they're gone then she and Mike might as well take the golf resorts offer and buy a new place - once which the ghosts are more than happy to visit. However; they're also free to go where they want in the world, without restrictions.

It takes some sorting out as Alison sells the place and the guys stay on Maddox's land for the meanwhile until the moving vans are there. But this time as they drive out, the car and van stops, Alison beeps the horn once they exit the gates and all the ghosts pile in to either the backseat of the car or the van. Then they drive off together.

Cut to a few Christmas' later, the now loaded Coopers are setting the table and the ghosts start to arrive but in different orders. Alison welcomes them back happily, Mia can't see them anymore but she still waves to them when her mum says they're there. As they sit, Alison asks what they've all been up to in their various travels - except for Julian, the others aren't able to call or text her. Fanny finally snuck onto a luxury cruise but didn't seem as good as the Titanic. Thomas went to Venice to see if much had changed ("still nice"). Cap has been visiting WWII memorials and trying to find information on Havers. Pat visits his grandson. Humphrey has visited Paris. Kitty had discovered nightclubbing in London and joined in many hen parties. Julian goes to the House of Commons to watch Rachel speak out (he also does other stuff not suitable for Mia's ears). Robin says he went to the moon - everyone gasps- but he's only joking, he went to NASA but wasn't stupid enough to try to climb aboard any launched satellites- maybe next manned mission though.

Alison reminds them that they're all free to stay over Christmas as long as they want, but they say how they wouldn't impose for too long as they wouldn't want to be too in the way - though there are spare rooms for them to share when they need. They are all happy to spend time with the Coopers, coming back whenever they can, but always promising to spend Christmas together.

[vague-bisexual-crimes]

hiiii I wrote this at midnight last night and edited it like five minutes after I woke up so please be nice and forgive any grammatical errors 🙏

Description: almost 3k words of post-hiatus, pre-relationship Jimmy and Lister, ft. pining and background Frances and Rowan.

Rated: G

TWs: canon-typical anxiety, brief mentions of alcohol and drinking

Without any further ado my first (bicci) fanfic ever!

sleepless nights (as long as they’re with you)

Somewhere between Lister almost dying, drunk and alone in a river some short ways from Pierro’s and the release of The Ark’s first post-hiatus album, Jimmy realized something. Jimmy realized that maybe, just maybe, Lister wasn’t just objectively attractive, but, in fact, Jimmy was attracted to him. Jimmy tries to think back to when they were younger, or even just a few years ago to try to figure out if the attraction is recent or had always been there. Either way, the romantic feelings began to develop a few months after they’d brought Lister home from the hospital.

Rowan is gone visiting his not-girlfriend Frances Janvier, so it’s just Jimmy and Lister in their new-ish apartment. It’s just outside London, close enough for them to be in London on short notice, far enough that they can breathe.

None of the three boys have technically dated during or after the hiatus, but Rowan has been talking to Frances Janvier for a few months, since they’d met at a movie premiere and she had no idea who The Ark was aside from “that’s a band, isn’t it?”, and Rowan was immediately enamored. Jimmy and Lister had placed bets on how soon Rowan and Frances would get together that same night.

It’s getting to be late for Jimmy and Lister. A few weeks into the hiatus they had all begun to put in a genuine effort to get a solid 8 hours of sleep a night, but tomorrow is a day off, and tonight they just don’t care.

The two of them are laying on Jimmy’s bed while Brooklyn 99 episodes auto-play in the background, although they haven’t been watching for some time now.

Lister is ranting about the book series he’s just finished, one that Jimmy read a few years ago and remembers very little of, but is content to listen to Lister tell him the entire plot, along with all of his opinions.

That said, Jimmy is finding it difficult to pay attention to what Lister was saying. Lister’s sitting next to him, wearing Jimmy’s well-loved Black Parade hoodie that Jimmy pulled up from the floor after Lister kept complaining about being cold, but not wanting to get up. Something that should be known about Lister is that whenever he speaks enthusiastically about something, his hands and his arms move a lot. Normally, this is fine and not really notable to Jimmy, however tonight, every time Lister raises an arm, Jimmy’s hair-too-small hoodies rises up and a sliver of Lister’s bare stomach becomes visible.

You would think that when Lister had been laying in his bed shirtless, Jimmy would have been distracted, but Lister had so rarely ever worn anything more than boxers that the sight no longer phased Jimmy. But Lister was in Jimmy’s bed, in Jimmy’s hoodie, and Jimmy was struggling to not stare at his stomach.

“—and I despise love triangles, they’re entirely unnecessary and frankly annoying, but somehow this book did it well?” Lister says, sounding mildly distressed at his own statement.

“Yeah, it’s not like an Edward and Jacob love triangle at all.” Jimmy replies before Lister is rushing off on an entirely different tangent about Twilight.

Blame the Twilight talk, but now Jimmy can’t help but notice Lister’s newest tattoo, a floral piece on the side of his neck. It looks pretty—Lister looks pretty.

Lister looks healthier than Jimmy thinks he’s ever seen him. He’d stopped drinking and was beginning to put on a bit of muscle. But it’s not only that, he has this look in his eye that Jimmy hasn’t seen since The Ark finished recording their first EP Kill It. Like he’s really happy.

Jimmy shakes his head to himself, tears his eyes away from Lister’s neck, and his eyes land on the long forgotten television.

He got over you years ago. Jimmy reminds himself. It would be cruel to do this to him years after the fact. Lister doesn’t deserve that, and Jimmy isn’t going to do that to him.

“—Jim-jam?” Lister’s voice breaks through his thoughts.

Jimmy turns his eyes back to Lister, who seems mildly amused as he takes in Jimmy’s expression.

“Were you listening?” Lister asks, not upset but genuinely inquiring.

“Sorry, I got caught up in my head.” Jimmy replies, which is not technically untrue.

“Are you alright?” Lister asks, his expression shifting just so slightly from amusement to worry, now.

“Yeah, yeah, go on, I’m listening now.” Jimmy coaxes Lister to keep talking and forget his concern.

“Are you sure? You looked upset?” Lister asks. A good and bad thing from The Ark all getting some therapy during the hiatus was that Lister was keen to communicate now. Which was good most of the time, and bad right now.

Jimmy doesn’t say anything, he just looks at Lister. At his Black Parade hoodie, the sleeves fitted where they should be baggy, Lister’s hands no longer moving, but tucked into its pocket. At Lister’s floral tattoo on the side of his neck that Jimmy has wanted to kiss since Lister came home and showed Jimmy and Rowan the piece in the middle of their kitchen while Rowan was making tea and Jimmy was sitting on the counter listening to Rowan go on and on about Frances.

Jimmy’s eyes finally slid up to look at Lister’s face. At the lips he kissed once, in a bathroom, years ago, when Lister had been drunk, and Jimmy didn’t feel that way about him. Where Lister had profusely apologized and begged Jimmy not to hate him. It was an absurd statement then, and it still was. How could Jimmy hate Allister Bird?

Jimmy’s eyes find Lister’s. Lister’s gaze is unwavering and kind. Sometimes Jimmy wonders what his relationship would be to Lister if The Ark hadn’t become what it did.

“Jimmy?”

Therapy also means that Jimmy has learned how to properly communicate. Still, that doesn’t mean he wants to.

Jimmy can feel the panic start to actually build in his chest, the real panic, lively and nauseous, not the thought spiral that Lister had seen moments prior.

It’s now or never. Jimmy seems to realize all at once. He can tell Lister how he feels, potentially ruining the closest relationship he has ever had, that isn’t Rowan or Pierro and Joan, potentially distancing himself from one of the two people in the world who actually know him and understand his life, potentially ruining everything that they had spent the past six months building back up for the band, the band which had managed to have wildly unprecedented success after what their management had considered a far-too-long hiatus.

Or he can tell Lister how he feels and Lister could feel the same way and they can live happily-ever-after.

The latter seems too good to be true.

Lister has always been too good for Jimmy. He always will be. Jimmy is a mess. Even now, when he’s at the best place he has ever been with his mental health and The Ark is doing better than it ever has, what with the new album doing even better than Joan of Arc had at release, Jimmy is still a mess.

But Lister is still looking at him like that. Looking at him like he cares.

“I’m okay, Lister.” Jimmy puts on a weak smile to combat the lumb in his throat. “Do y’want some tea?” Jimmy asks, already halfway out of bed.

“I can do it, watch Brooklyn 99.” Lister says, his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, gently coaxing him to sit back down.

“You didn’t want to get up—” Jimmy begins to protest.

“I don’t mind.” Lister says so simply that Jimmy nearly begins to cry.

Jimmy says a much-too-quiet “okay”, and Lister slips out into the hallway.

Jimmy tries for a brief moment to actually watch Brooklyn 99 and wait for Lister to get back so he can tell Jimmy about his books. It doesn’t work.

Jimmy sighs in frustration and puts his head between his knees like he can cure romantic feelings in the same way as motion sickness.

Lister either makes the quickest cup of tea known to man, or Jimmy doesn’t notice how long he’s been staring at his fitted sheet, his mind somewhere between a panic attack and a confession.

“Jimmy?” Jimmy wishes he would stop doing things to make his name sound so laced with concern every time it falls off Lister’s lips. “You alright?”

Jimmy sits up and quickly takes the cup of tea from Lister.

“You look like you're about to be sick.” Lister says. “Do you want me to hand you the bin?” Jimmy shakes his head. “Do y’want me to call Rowan?”

“Please, don’t.” Jimmy finally says. He takes a sip of tea if only to avoid this conversation for a moment longer. Chamomile vanilla. Jimmy’s favorite.

He looks up at Lister who’s still standing next to Jimmy’s bed watching him. “You know you can talk to me, yeah?” Lister says, and god there’s a tinge of hurt in his voice that Jimmy knows he didn’t intend to slip through.

“Of course,” Jimmy says, his voice more level than it’s been since the start of this evening. “I tell you everything.” Not necessarily true, but not a lie either. He tells Lister everything…except this.

Lister crawls over Jimmy to get to the other side of the bed, not spilling Jimmy’s tea by some miracle, and immediately wraps his arm around Jimmy. “I love you, you know that?” Lister says with his cheek pressed into Jimmy’s hair.

“I love you, too, Lister.” This doesn’t really feel like a lie. Jimmy, Rowan, and Lister had loved each other for as long as they’d been friends. They haven’t been so vocal about it until their early twenties, but that has never made it any less true.

Jimmy drinks his tea in silence, the only noise in the entire apartment being Jimmy’s TV, and the soft rhythm of Lister’s breath in his ear.

When Jimmy sets his mug on his bedside table, Lister asks, “Want to go to bed?”

It is properly late now and all of Jimmy’s panic has made him exhausted.

“Yeah,” Jimmy answers and Lister’s arm falls away from Jimmy and he begins to crawl out of bed.

Jimmy catches Lister’s arm, moving a bit too fast, and says. “You don’t need to get up. My bed’s big enough for both of us.”

“It’s okay,” Lister begins to slide his arm from Jimmy’s hand.

“Your bed isn’t even made and you’re already here.” Jimmy tries to shrug nonchalantly and sets the TV to turn off after an hour.

“Okay,” Lister says only a bit louder than a whisper.

Jimmy lays down and pulls the covers up and around him, pretending he isn’t aware of every move Lister makes as he sets his phone on the floor by the bed, takes off Jimmy’s Black Parade hoodie and crawls fully under the covers.

Jimmy wasn’t lying when he said his bed was big enough for both of them, there’s a solid foot of bed between them and they still have wiggle room on the other side.

It never takes Jimmy long to fall asleep whenever Lister is there.

***

Rowan comes home the next morning with the news that he’s officially going out with Frances Janvier and Lister slyly hands Jimmy a twenty under the table when Rowan isn’t looking.

“Is she gonna be coming ‘round then?” Jimmy asks between bites of cereal.

“She’ll be ‘round next week, but not for a while after that, she and Aled have some Universe City stuff to do.” Rowan replies.

“That’s great, Ro,” Lister says. “‘Bit jealous that you’re the first one of us to be in a relationship since the hiatus but still.”

Rowan rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t waver. Rowan and Lister’s relationship has massively improved over the past few years. Partially from Rowan learning that he doesn’t need to take care of Lister all the time, partially because Lister has learned to take care of himself.

“You could date anyone.” Rowan says.

“Of course I could, have you considered none of them are good enough for Allister Bird?” Lister replies instantly.

“Yes, that’s the problem,” Rowan says.

“I’m with Lister on this one, Rowan, how come you’re the one who always ends up in good, long-term relationships?” Jimmy says as he puts his empty bowl in the dishwasher.

“I dated Bliss for two years and I haven’t even been dating Frances for 24 hours.”

“That’s longer term than Jimmy and I for like five years running.” Lister points out.

“That’s a lie! I dated that guy for three weeks when I was 16.” Jimmy protests.

“Relationships from when you were 16 don’t count.” Lister shrugs as though it’s law. “And you can’t even remember his name, can you?”

Jimmy ignores the last part. “You’re counting Bliss!”

“Because they dated while Rowan was also 17 and 18.”

“Impeccable logic as always, Bird.” Rowan says with a pat on Lister’s shoulder. Lister grins smugly at Jimmy.

“Rowan agrees with me.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Rowan says and then they’re all laughing.

***

Frances comes round the week later to stay for two nights. Jimmy and Lister gleefully tease Rowan about having a girlfriend (although they maintain that they’re perfectly nice and civil to Frances, who is lovely), but eventually the novelty begins to wear off and Jimmy and Lister decide to leave Rowan and Frances alone and retreat to Jimmy’s bedroom.

Watching Brooklyn 99 in Jimmy’s room has become something of a routine of theirs lately. Some nights they watch a few episodes until they actually feel tired and Lister will go to his own room to sleep, other nights he sleeps in Jimmy’s room.

Jimmy prefers the nights where Lister sleeps in Jimmy’s room. He can always sleep when Lister is there, despite the background anxiety about his feelings for Lister, he feels safe with him.

Tonight neither of them are really watching the show, instead they’re scrolling through their respective personal social media accounts that the fans somehow have yet to find. It’s a content silence and Jimmy is perfectly happy to continue to watch Brooklyn 99 and scroll through his phone until he falls asleep, but then Lister says,

“Tell me to shut up if I’ve got the wrong idea, but,” Lister pauses and takes a breath. “you seemed genuinely very stressed about something the other night, and you don’t have to tell me, but you haven’t seemed that stressed in so long and I’m worried about you.” Lister looks at him.

Jimmy means to say more, but all that comes out is, “Lister…”

“You don’t have to tell me just…I’m here for you, for anything. I need you to know that.”

Jimmy opens his mouth to speak and closes it.

“Do you remember when you were drunk and you kissed me?” It’s not at all what Jimmy means to say and as soon as it’s out of his mouth he feels shit for bringing it up.

“I—yeah,” Lister looks embarrassed and slightly pained at the memory.

“And I told you, more or less, that I didn’t feel that way about you,” Jimmy continues slowly.

“Jimmy, you don’t have to reject me again. I got it the first time, haha.” It’s the saddest laugh Jimmy’s ever heard and for a moment his entire train of thought derails.

“What?” Jimmy asks.

“I didn’t think I was being that obvious. God, I’m sorry, Jimmy, you must’ve been so uncomfortable.” Lister explains and he looks like he might start crying.

“D’you still like me?” Jimmy’s voice is soft.

“It feels a bit juvenile to say it that way but…but yeah…” Lister thinks for a moment. “What’d’you mean, did you not know?” Jimmy can see Lister trying to work out what the hell is happening and coming up more confused than before.

“No, no, Lister…” the words are still stuck in his throat. It’s now or never.

Jimmy turns to properly face Lister and puts his hands on his cheeks, the tips of his fingers brush against Lister’s soft blond hair. Lister leans in slightly to the touch, but confusion dances across his face.

Slowly, with plenty of time for Lister to stop him, Jimmy leans in. He stops a breath from Lister’s lips and presses his forehead against Lister’s. Lister’s hands come up to rest on Jimmy’s biceps, his breath quickens and seemingly against his will, his eyes flutter shut.

“Can I kiss you?” Jimmy whispers.

“God, please,” Lister whispers and then Jimmy’s lips meet Lister’s and this time it feels right.

Lister’s hands move from Jimmy’s arms to his waist, pulling him gently so that he’s sat in Lister’s lap. Jimmy’s thumbs stroke Lister’s cheeks as they kiss, every anxiety he’d had about telling Lister how he felt washing away with each brush of his lips against Lister’s.

After a moment their lips part from the other’s and Jimmy presses his forehead to Lister’s again as they breathe.

“That’s what you were having anxiety about?” Lister whispers, his breath fanning across Jimmy’s face.

Jimmy nods and slides his arms around Lister’s neck to rest on his shoulders.

Lister kisses him, once, chaste, before burying his face in the crook of Jimmy’s neck. Lister’s arms tighten around Jimmy’s waist and they hold each other for god-knows how long before they hear Frances and Rowan laughing at something in the living room.

They pull back just enough to see each other’s faces. Jimmy runs his fingers through Lister’s hair, pushing it out of his eyes and then kisses him.

“Stay with me tonight?” Jimmy asks.

“Always.” Lister replies and kisses him again.