#but! there are like. two apartments in the whole city

[gucciwins]

harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned

word count: 5896

a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜

+

Y/N was nervous. 

She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment. 

Going to university in Los Angeles wasn’t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through. 

As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop. 

“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke. 

It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area. 

“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.” 

“I said it’s okay.” 

Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.” 

It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough. 

Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.

“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”

“Course. Guard it with my life.” 

Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop. 

“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head. 

The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day. 

Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time. 

“Excuse me, sir?”

He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?” 

“How do I know you?” 

The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him. 

“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”

Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”

The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.” 

That’s odd, Y/N thought. 

“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time. 

“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.” 

Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.” 

Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t. 

“Can I walk you out?” He asks. 

She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move. 

“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit. 

“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters. 

Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact. 

Harry S. 

It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say. 

Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?” 

Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.” 

“Oh.” 

Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number. 

“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.

“Hopefully for us to plan a date.” 

“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened. 

“I’d like to see where it could go.” 

“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”

Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?” 

“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. 

“Good. Thursday it is.”

Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life. 

Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.

Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him. 

“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.

Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed. 

Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong. 

Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N. 

“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N. 

In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.” 

Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.” 

“Anne,” Y/N repeated.

“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie. 

Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined. 

Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.

+

Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.  

“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story. 

Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.” 

“Your face didn’t change.”

Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.” 

Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.” 

Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”

“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.

Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.” 

“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.” 

Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem. 

“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.

Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister. 

Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home. 

“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.

Harry sighs, “never been happier.” 

Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.” 

Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.” 

She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”

Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”

“It’s clear she’s after something.” 

He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”

“Your money.” 

“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled. 

“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.” 

“How would you know?”

“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.” 

“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”

“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”

Harry’s anger is overwhelming him. 

“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.

“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs. 

He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.” 

Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset. 

“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.” 

Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”

Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.

She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches. 

Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed. 

Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”

Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.” 

“It’s only my sister,” he defends.

“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.” 

Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”

“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.” 

“It is when she needs a wack to her head.” 

“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”

Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. “We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”

Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her. 

Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.

“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”

“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out. 

He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful. 

Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“But Gemma–”

He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”

Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset. 

“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”

Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.

“I love you, Harry.” 

He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.” 

Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.

+

The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect. 

There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word. 

“My daughter owes you an apology.” 

“Anne–” 

She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.” 

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.” 

Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.” 

Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside. 

Harry greeted her with a kiss.

Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it. 

Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle. 

Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug. 

“Hi,” Y/N greeted. 

“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked. 

Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.” 

“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.

“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 

“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”

Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 

“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 

Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 

“Morning, pretty girl.” 

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 

“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”

Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 

“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 

Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 

“Morning, pretty girl.” 

“Hi, Harry. I love you.” 

Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.” 

“And did it?” 

“Mmm…like magic.” 

“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions. 

“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.” 

Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.” 

“But she’s your–”

“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”

Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more, my love. So much more.” 

Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.

+

thank you for reading my beautiful friends! let me know your favorite parts

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles story #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst story #harry styles fic rec #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction

[hollytoshaw]

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

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✩ ✩ ✩

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 he 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

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fifteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6.5K (I got carried away again)

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Crying,  Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

**************************************

Present Day *Reader POV*

The shopping bags that hung from your arms would have been heavy for the average person, but for you it seemed like a bag full of pillows. It was the day after you saw Rosemary and said goodbye. Despite the almost excruciating hangover you had this morning, because it'd been almost forty years since you last had a drink, you dragged yourself to the mall to try and find outfits for your trip to Russia. You were satisfied with the few outfits you found, but you were worried because the plane left in a few hours and you were no where near ready.

Mentally or physically.

As much as you wanted to go help Ben, you still were apprehensive about the whole situation, not just about going in blind, but wondering what the hell you were going to do when you saw Ben. You wanted to hold on to your anger, but you were afraid that the moment you looked into his green eyes you would forgive him.

I am not going to forgive him. I'm going to break him out then tell him to fuck off and I never have to see him ever again.

Despite your apprehension, you knew that you had to do this, that you had to go help him even if you still hated him because you couldn't bear the thought of the boy you grew up with being tortured over there all alone. It was the alone part that hurt the most. You knew how much Ben hated being alone. He never had to say it out loud, but all the time you'd spent together in your bedroom before and after the injection spoke volumes.

Of course you still had no idea where you were going, but figured that if you went to the Kremlin you could get some answers, which meant you'd either have to lie your way in or just kill anyone in your path. Which would be messy, but necessary. You try to shake off the guilt of exposing yourself again and what that could mean for Rosemary and Lou. You made sure that Rosemary knew to pack a bag for herself and for Lou and told her to wait for your call.

You wanted to be there to escort them out of the city, didn't want to split up and have them get snagged while you were waiting for them at the rendezvous point, so you told Rosemary to take a few days off and lay low.

When you get to the outside door of your apartment building toting the bags, you notice that it's been broken, as if someone tried to pull it off its hinges.

Well that's great. Hopefully the building manager noticed that.

Your mind drifts back to Ben as you step into the elevator.

What if he isn't alive when I get there? It was an unwelcome thought, but it meant that you wouldn't have to talk to him.

 Maybe if I knock him out when I get there and just leave him in a Russian motel somewhere, I won't have to talk to him. You pause. Will he want to talk to me? 

The memory of the last time you spoke flashes through your mind bringing an unmeasurable amount of rage and heartbreak back over your body. The dam you built to keep out everything that happened was reaching capacity, especially given the recent events with Countess, and you knew that the moment you saw Ben it was going to burst open. You hoped that you'd be able to keep it together long enough to get out of the lab or wherever the hell he was being held, before you lost it. But it was doubtful.

As you walk down the hallway to you apartment, you notice that your front door is open and you stop walking. Apprehension spikes at the back of your mind as you examine the door. The lock is broken and  door is cracked just enough for you to hear people talking inside in hushed tones. You creep forward and look through the crack.

You've got to be kidding me. You groan to yourself noticing Butcher and Hughie standing in your living room.

Great. Just what I need. Right when I'm going to leave they show up. Guess that explains the mystery of the broken door downstairs.

You think about walking away, of going back down the elevator and hoping that by the time you come back they would be gone, but you knew you had to face them and you still had to pack. So you push open the front door of your apartment and step into the room.

"You know when I called saying that I had something else to say about Soldier Boy, I assumed you would call, not break into my apartment." You sigh before moving to the right side of the counter that divides the room between the living room and the kitchen and depositing the shopping bags on the stainless steel top.

"Maybe you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked poppet. Anyone could walk in." Butcher replies with a grin.

"Hmm. Sure. You guys here for more coffee?"

"Go shopping did you?" Butcher ignores your snark eyeing the bags.

"Yeah I needed a few new outfits for my art show next month." The lie is easy, but you know that the sudden appearance of the two of them probably meant you were caught red handed. Of course now with everything that happened with Countess, you didn't care anymore if Butcher and Hughie knew who you really were. "You doing okay there Hughie?" You raise an eyebrow as you notice how his heartbeat has spiked since you entered the apartment.

"Good." He says, but he looks uneasy.

Well, guess he's afraid of me now.

"Huh. And here I thought you were replacing your jacket." Butcher throws your ruined jacket onto the floor between you.

You look from the jacket to Butcher. You hadn't bought a replacement and hadn't wanted to throw it out. You were still hoping that the scorch marks looked like you had "distressed" it. It didn't and you knew that, but you loved that coat so much.

"See, I think it’s a big coincidence that Countess got right fucked after we came and talked to you." Butcher smiles.

"Probably the same coincidence as Gunpowder dying before you showed up here the first time." You breeze with a tight-lipped smile.

Where was he going with this? Was he here to kill me? You think about what Legend said about Butcher killing supes.

"That looks bad." Butcher gestures to the jacket. "You have a little spat with your good friend?”

"Let's just say she said a few things that upset me." Your eyes skate from Butcher to Hughie sizing them up. "If you're here to kill me, you're welcome to try. Oh sorry,  'arrest me'." You make air quotes around the words. "But we both know you're not government agents, you reek of Compound V and the last time I checked there was that whole, no supes in the government thing."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to get this out of the way the first time?" Hughie asks.

"I didn't want to be involved." You shrug your shoulders.

"Then why you'd buy a plane ticket to Russia?" Butcher takes a step towards you, but you hold your ground.

You weren't afraid of him.

"I hear it's nice this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Very pleasant." You snap back at him eyes narrowed, before you look down at the antique watch on your wrist. "Look I'd love to have a heart to heart, but I just don't have time to do this little dance with you. So we can either get to the part where you try to kill me or-" You raise your gaze from the watch to glare back at Butcher, but then your eyes focus on the hallway behind him and your heart stops.

Ben is standing there in the shadows looking at you the same way he always has, with those wonderful piercing green eyes that makes all other memories of them be put to shame. He's dressed in modern clothes, wearing a dark green shirt that hugs his perfect muscular chest and is the same color of his suit, your favorite color and the one you can never look at without thinking of him because damn it, it's also the color of his eyes. He looks the same, but different. His hair is longer and darker than it was the last time you saw him and his cheeks are covered by a trimmed but thick beard. It was unusual given that you'd never seen him with more than just a little bit of stubble and annoying because it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, but despite the piercing way his eyes follow you, you can see a haunting memory of the last forty years.

You're upset that the one of the first thoughts you'd had beside staring at him open mouthed is that you wished you were wearing something more flattering than one of your pairs of paint splattered overalls over an old band t-shirt. You were going to Russia to get him and yes maybe you were shopping for things that you could move in, but you had picked out a particular revenge outfit that you believed would make Ben regret everything he did to you and also might have been paired with a particularly badass set of boots that made your legs look very long. The outfit that made you feel beautiful and sexy was unlike the one you were wearing at the moment. Also because you hadn't brushed your hair today and had just stuck it up in a messy bun at the back of your head.

You're struck with the urge to run to him and kill him at the same time, but you can't move and you can’t think.

Apart of you believed that you would find him dead in Russia, a sad thought but it meant that you wouldn't have to relive everything all over again. Everything that went to shit the last 24 hours you spent together that you relived with Countess the other day and now you were reliving when you looked at him standing there looking better than he should.

Because damn it, only Ben could be tortured in a lab for the past 40 years and walk away looking like a GQ model. I've never hated anyone more.

"Ben?" Your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.

Ben pushes past Hughie and Butcher, taking careful steps towards you like he doesn't want to scare you away. "Y/n." The sound of your name on his lips fills you with an inescapable amount of warmth.

Traitor. You think to yourself at your body’s reaction.

He's standing so close to you now that you can smell the same shampoo and aftershave he always used and it brings back memories of the nights he spent in your bed with you laughing and talking like nothing had changed making you feel alive again for the first time in forty years. Before everything went into the blender set to puree.

Ben's eyes trace your body like he can't believe you're standing in front of him making you wish again that you're wearing the outfit you picked out so that you could look as good as he does. And just as he raises his hand towards your face you remember why you hated him, remember that night, remember what Countess said that caused her to lose her head.

Your hand flashes out so quick you don't think Ben notices it until it lands with a resounding slap against his cheek that sends him reeling back from you. Your strengths were similar, almost identical, and if he hadn't been invulnerable it would have ripped his perfect jaw from his face.

"What the fuck was that for?" Ben snaps, green eyes blazing as he looks back at you.

"You've got some nerve coming back here after all these years." You spit, the anger rising in your chest with wings of fury that beat against your ribcage. "Did you really think that you could just say my name again and make me forget everything that happened Benjamin? I am not one of those trashy women that you used to fuck and the fact that you think you can show up here, give me the fucking puppy dog eyes, and think that I’ll swoon, is ridiculous!”

There goes the dam.

Your gaze levels on Hughie and Butcher who look just as stunned. "And you two. Why did you bring him here? I didn’t want any part of this!”

"Why did you pretend to be dead!" Hughie shouts back.

"Did you think that maybe that was me trying to tell you that I didn't want to be involved? Or are you two just that fucking stupid?"

"Why did you buy a plane ticket then?" Butcher asks again, raising an eyebrow.

Ben is watching you with anger burning in his eyes. It's difficult for you to look at him. Every time you do you think about your last night together, the morning after when he pushed you away, and finally the night where he ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.

How did I ever think I could look at him again when I got him out of Russia?

"Because even though I hate him. He doesn't deserve that. The Ben I knew would have come to get me, and I wasn't going to leave him to rot in some fucking Russian prison." You snap back. "Now get out of my apartment."

"Sweetheart-" Ben begins to say.

"No. No. No. I don't want to hear it from you. Nothing you can say can make this better. I’m glad you’re free or whatever, but go. Get out." You push past him, but Ben's hand flashes out and grabs your wrist with enough force that you feel the bruising of your skin.

"No." He towers over you.

"Let. Me. Go." Your eyes narrow shifting to bright purple. The entire room begins to tremble, the glass windows shake in their panes and the glass jars full of paint brushes on your studio table begin to clink against one another. But he doesn't remove his hand.

"Not until you listen." Ben's own green eyes have hardened into a emerald.

You latch onto the wrist that is holding you and break his grip, before spinning and throwing him backward across the room away from you. Ben's body flies past Hughie and Butcher who watch with wide eyes as he hits the back of the couch and pinwheels over it with a loud thud as he lands on the cushions. You would have rather thrown him into the brick living room wall, but you restrained yourself.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say Benjamin. You said enough that night and apparently you were saying lots of things to Countess about me. So get out." Your eyes skate across Butcher and Hughie. "All of you."

Hughie is still watching you with wide eyes, like he can't believe that just happened.

Join the club kid.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben shouts, standing from the couch and straightening his clothes. You don't need to be a psychic to know how angry he is. In fact, you're surprised he's not throwing you out the window or at least throwing a punch. Ben didn't tolerate it when anyone put him in his place and it definitely looks like it's taking him an extreme amount of effort not to attack you, given the way his hands are clenched into fists and the way his jaw is tensed so tightly you can see the muscle flexing.

"She told me what you said about me. That you threw me a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me, that you were bored when we had sex because I was so inexperienced."

"It's not true."

"Isn’t it?" You're trying desperately not to cry, but the angry tears have already begun to well up in your eyes. "The last thing you sad to me was that I was pathetic and that you never would love me, never could love me. That you fucked me because you felt bad for me and you wished I would just fuck off. That I was just another warm pussy and that I meant nothing to you. So forgive me for not believing you."

"Oh shit." Butcher mutters under his breath.

"Damn." Hughie echoes.

"I know what I said to you, Y/n. I've spent the past 40 years regretting it-" Ben begins to say, but you interrupt him.

"Oh I'm so sure. The Great Soldier Boy actually has a conscience, let me just alert the media." You spit back. "Oh wait, sorry you wouldn't want that getting out would you Ben? Because that would mean you aren't a man."

"Y/n-" He growls.

"You don't get to come in here and apologize and act like you did nothing wrong. You're not here because you feel sorry, you're here because you want me to dote on you, to follow you around and give a shit like I did for 40 fucking years.”

“Y/n-“

"Stop saying my name like that!" You shout and the glass sugar dish on the counter flies off the counter and smashes into the floor sending shards of glass everywhere.

Hughie flinches.

"Like what?" Ben exclaims.

"Like you care." You cross your arms over your chest staring him down because you don't want to keep crying.

"I do fucking care about you-" Ben snaps running his hand through his dark hair frustrated.

"No you don't. You never did. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

"Yes I do."

"Please stop talking."

"What else do you want me to say?" Ben shouts back, moving towards you. "I'm trying to fucking apologize-"

"I don't want you to say anything and I don't want to hear your half-assed apology! I want you to leave. You and your creepy friends." You gesture back to where Hughie and Butcher are watching with open mouths, who are unsure if they should leave or watch the show.

"They're not my friends."

"And neither am I! Which means I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say!”

"Y/n please-" His teeth are gritted together.

“I'm not some fangirl Ben. I was your friend, your friend before any of this. Before any of this fucking supe shit. I cared about you. I had been in love with you since I was 8. I had taken care of you since the night we met." More tears squeeze down your cheeks as a lifetime of happy memories before everything went down the drain wash over you. The wonderful times you'd shared together at the park, in your bedroom back in Philadelphia, dancing in the dancehall,  at baseball games and Ben walking you home all the while you wobbled down the street drunkenly and sang off key. All the blissful little moments that you thought maybe he felt the same way about you and then followed by the moments you spent together the night of your birthday, when you felt more special and loved than you'd ever had. It makes the knife he stuck in your back even sharper. 

"That night we spent together meant everything to me. I thought it was special and I thought you loved me. But you don't. You just fucked me because you were bored and you found the first person who said yes.” Your body turns away, but he grabs you by the shoulders to make you look at him.

"I do love you damnit!" He shouts. "I didn't want to-" Ben's jaw clenches in frustration, looking back at Butcher and Hughie. "Can you two just fuck off?"

"I wish you all would." You say, trying to loosen his grip on your shoulders, but he doesn't let go. You think about throwing him across the room again, because it made you feel a lot better.

"Fine. We'll be outside." Butcher says tugging Hughie away.

"Are you sure?" Hughie asks looking from you to Ben as if he's worried to leave the two of you alone.

"You want to be here? Because they're either going to kill each other or start fucking." Butcher responds.

"We are not going to start-" You begin, but they're already out the front door of your apartment leaving you alone with Ben, who is still holding on to your shoulders.

"Please listen to me." Ben says looking deep into your eyes. "When you said that you loved me it-" He stops looking for the right word as if he can't say the next ones that come out of his mouth. "Oh fuck it, it fucking scared me. Okay?  It scared me, Y/n, and damnit I'm not a pussy! I'm not afraid of anything!"

“Oh no you could never be a pussy could you? Soldier Boy could never admit that he had real feelings for someone.” Your voice wobbles, tears trailing down your cheeks as you poke him in the chest to emphasize every word. “And now you’re just saying what I want to hear, because you want to have another quick fuck!” You push your hands against his chest trying to push him off of you, but he won't let go. "You're just saying it because its been forty years since you had sex and you thought, huh might as well find the most pathetic person I know, Y/n won't say no if I pretend to be everything she wanted again."

He doesn't mean it. He doesn't love me.

"I’m not lying to you! And I’m not pretending! I wasn't pretending that night either!” Ben roars so loudly you flinch. “That night I felt things with you that I had never felt with anyone else. It wasn't cheap sex or a quick fuck-" His jaw tightens as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "Damn it.” His teeth are gritted together. “We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I’m ready now, I’m not scared anymore. I love you!”

He's saying everything you always wanted him to, but you're scared. Scared that he's just saying it, that he thinks it's what you want to hear and this is the only way that he can get you back into his life because he needs someone to follow him around, because he can't be alone.

You stand there for a minute taking in his stance. His head is slightly bowed in shame, shoulders tight, body leaning towards you. But then you catch his eye, you see the sorrow, frustration, and pain in his gaze. Ben was not big on sharing feelings and for him to admit all of these things aloud was shocking enough without the obvious emotions flashing in his eyes. It was so different than the stoic or pissed off attitude he usually had when he was Soldier Boy. The look in his eyes is so earnest and Ben has never been a good liar, not to you anyway. You always knew what he was thinking.

If I forgive him then what does that mean? I forget the past 40 years like they never happened? I forget all the tears when he broke my heart? Forget how broken I was? How broken I still am?

You think of all the times you missed him, all the times you forgot about what he said to you and remembered the good, all the times you wanted him there with you and Rosemary because you knew he would love to be there. All the early memories together, all the missions, everything that lead up to the falling out and Ben’s supposed death. Ben's admission of guilt and his confession of love for you was shocking. Especially because the Ben you knew 40 years ago would have rather dropped dead than say the words "make love."

No. I won't give in. I can't do this, I can't do this all over again. I was better, I was moving on, he doesn't have the right to come here and mess up my life all over again.

"No." You shout, shoving him away with all your strength. Ben stumbles backward, his eyes wide as if he wasn't expecting you to push him away, because of course he wasn't. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear, what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”

He still doesn't understand how much he hurt me. And he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.

“I’m not just saying that, it’s true. Please y/n-“

"I don't believe you. And when I said I never wanted to see you ever again I wasn't lying. So get out Ben!" You shout.

"No. I love you and I'm not leaving." Ben says back determined.

You weren't prepared for what those words did to you. You weren't prepared for the floodgate of emotions that exploded the moment those words passed through his lips or the way it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. Because despite wanting to throw him across the room again, those three little words made you want to run into his arms and hold him close, made you want him to take you to bed and make you forget all the shitty things that happened forty years ago, make it like he never left.

But you couldn't do it. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't because you didn't trust him anymore, you didn't trust that he could give you what you wanted.

“Too bad! I won’t do this to myself again. All I did was care about you, help you. I stood by you and made excuses for the person you became and I held on to this picture of the boy you used to be. The one I fell in love with. The one that used to climb in my window when things were hard. The one that took me to my first baseball game. The one who danced with me. The one that made me feel like less of a freak because he understood me. And the one that begged me to leave Howard and everything I knew and come with him. That night we were together I saw that boy again.  I loved that boy. I would have done anything for him and I did. But he’s not here anymore. And I hate myself for holding on to him as long as I did.”

"But I told you I loved you!" Ben exclaims.

“Just saying that isn’t enough, not after everything that happened!” You shout. "You're forty years too late Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and I’m going to go to bed. And I don’t want you to be here when I wake up.”

"Y/n please-" You hate how he sounds when he says it, like he's broken, because Ben has never once sounded that way in all the years you'd known him. You hate how he looks. How his dark hair is falling forward into his face and he looks so much like the boy you used to love that it makes you want to scream, because you wanted to believe that he was gone, but all you see when you look up at him is that boy. There is not one shred of Soldier Boy in the way he looks right now and you hate that. You hate that you wanted to forgive him, that all it took was him looking like at you like that. But you still can't do it.

"Just go." Your throat thickening as you say it, fresh tears trailing down your cheeks. "I don't want you here. I never want you to come here ever. I never want to see you again.” You lie pushing past him and walk down the dark hallway, slamming and locking your bedroom door behind you. Your body sinks to the floor as you pull your knees up into your chest, sobs shaking your body and tears pour from your eyes.

How many tears can I spend on one man? How do I still have any left after all these years? How could I have been stupid to think that I was over him? That I could just go to Russia, break him out, and then push him out of my life so easily? None of what just happened was easy.

Your face presses into your knees. You want to call Rosemary, call her and tell her what happened, but your phone is still on the counter and you couldn't go back out there, because you knew he was still there. Standing in your living room looking too perfect after all these years and saying all the things you always wanted him to and you don’t want to go out there and forgive him.

So you stay. Your back pressed against the door, crying into your knees and hoping that this will just all end.

Because it’s got to one day right?

***************************************************

*Soldier Boy POV*

He hadn't meant to reach for you, but all he wanted was to feel the gentle swell of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, the smoothness of your skin against his rough fingertips, and to memorize the planes of your face with his touch. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your curves perfectly accentuated by a pair of cute paint splattered overalls that made him smile, and your hair pulled away from your face in a messy bun but still made you look effortless and striking. When he saw you standing there, it was like taking a punch to the gut. He knew that he missed you, but seeing you there warm and alive made him want to crush you against his chest and never let you go ever again.

He had laid himself bare before you, allowing himself to push through the urge  to shove all his emotions back beneath the surface as his father taught him, and spoke, instead, the words he wished that he had said all those years ago.

Ben's shoulders tense when he thinks of what you shouted back at him, how broken you looked. His heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he remembers the tears in your eyes. Ben hated it when you cried. He also hated that the first time he saw you in forty years he made you cry, again.

He didn't know how to fix this. Ben thought that his apology would be enough to make you at least try to forgive him, but it hadn't. You had shoved him away from you, refused to let him touch you or comfort you-

Why is she so damn stubborn? I apologized! I told her that I loved her! Isn’t that what she wanted?

He grits his teeth together thinking about how you threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. If anyone else had done that to him, Ben would have killed them, but he knew that he deserved it. He knew you would be mad, but he thought that you would at least want to hear everything he had to say instead of cursing him out and slamming the door in his face.

When you slammed your door behind you, he had stood outside of it for an hour listening to you cry, heard your soft muffled sobs. At one point he leaned his head against the door and wished you would let him in so he could hold you while you cried, even though the thought made him feel like a pussy. He wanted to comfort you. He wished you had forgiven him, allowed him to take you to bed, allowed him to show you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He wished that you let him help you forget the last shitty forty years that you spent without him, forget what he said and what he did to you that night. 

The harsh words you yelled at him make him flinch, when you told him that you didn't want him there and never wanted him to come back. They were the words that he always feared you would say to him when he climbed in through your window at night or when he showed up at your apartment when you were still on Payback. And hearing you say those words felt worse than anything those Russian fucks did to him. Because Ben didn't know where he belonged if he wasn't with you, he didn't know what to do if you weren't in his life, you were the only thing that mattered.

How could I fuck this up this much?

Ben looks back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen which shows he'd been there for three hours waiting for you to come out of your room, but you hadn't. He knew it was because you fell asleep, he could hear your heart beat, your soft breath against the pillows, and the almost silent sounds you made when you slept. They were exactly the same as when he would fall asleep next to you and damn it he didn't realize how much he missed them until this exact moment.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How do I fucking fix this?

Ben stands from the couch and walks down the hallway for the millionth time to stand outside your door preparing to knock, but he didn't know what to say. He thought that he'd said enough, but judging by your reaction he hadn't.

The thought of saying anything else was difficult for him to swallow. It was hard enough to say what he had to you, but he was realizing he was going to have to delve even deeper to make you even look at him again or want to be around him. 

Finally he goes to the front door of your apartment before he looks back down the hallway. He didn't want to leave, didn't want you to wake up and him not be there despite what you said about wanting him to leave. He wanted you to understand that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was never going to leave you ever again no matter how hard you tried to push him away. But he needed to leave now, not for long, just long enough for him to get what he needed.

He had seen the florist shop on the corner when Butcher drove up. As Ben walked down the street in the direction of the florist he remembered the conversation he had with Butcher after you slammed your door in his face. Convincing Butcher to let him remain in the apartment was difficult, but finally when Ben threatened to rip Hughie in half, Butcher relented stating that he would give Ben one night with you before he came back. That was the deal anyway, Ben had lied, because like hell he was going to leave now that he'd found you again.

Ben wasn't planning on leaving and  even if you couldn't stand to look at him, Ben would not go. Even if it meant sleeping on that shitty couch every night.

He would never leave you again.

The smell of the flowers wafted out of the small shop when Ben opens the door, his eyes skating across the numerous bouquets, each one more extravagant than the last. Other women would swoon over them, but not you. His eyes fall first on roses, but he turns away. He knew that you didn’t like roses, although many believed them to be classic, Ben knew that you thought over the years that roses had become generic and overused. He of course had sent some to numerous women over the years, but he liked that you were different. He always liked that about you. He rolls his eyes when he remembered when Howard bought you some every week.

Because of course that asshole didn’t know what y/n liked. No one knows her as well as me.

The man behind the counter eyes him when he walks in. "Can I help you find something sir?"

"No." Ben says gruffy looking at the displays again, but then he sighs. "Do you have any lavender?"

"Lavender?"

"Yeah." Ben knew it was the only thing that you would accept, knew that it was your favorite because it reminded you of the house your family rented over the summers up North. Ben hated those summers. He'd break into your bedroom and sleep in your bed while thinking of you and reading the letters you sent him over and over again, the ones that you pressed fresh lavender into and the ones that made him realize just how much he needed you.

Those of course weren’t the only letters you ever sent him. When he went to boarding school he’d wait for you to send him a letter and one of your doodles or a small painting. He kept every one in a cigar box under his bed. It was why he was kicked out of boarding school number nine, a fight he had with another student began because the student had found the box and then proceeded to mock Ben endlessly by passing around the letters you sent him. Ben had never told you what the fight was about.

Ben stops as he realizes how he’s going to get you to listen to him.

“Here you are sir.” The florist reappears at the counter holding a large vase of freshly cut lavender.

“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” Ben asks.

“Sure.”

The object the man hands him is not a phone, well not a phone that Ben’s ever seen before.

“I said a phone-“

“That is a phone?” The man looks confused.

“How do I fucking call someone with this?” Ben sighs shaking the black rectangle in his hand and looking for the buttons.

The man takes the object and swipes his fingers across it before handing it back to him so Ben can see the numbers to dial. “Just push what you want and hit the green button.” The man says, looking at Ben like he's crazy.

“Oh. Thanks.” He mutters, before dialing the number and holding the phone up to his ear.

Legend answers on the first ring.

“Hey it’s me. Do you still have all my old shit from my apartment?”

“Somewhere.”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

******************************************

N/A: Why not end on a cliffhanger? This chapter is a bit longer, because this week is CRAZY for me and I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter. But I'm not giving up on these two. They deserve the world.

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think. If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna @abramswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys #jensen ackles #soldier boy fic #billy butcher #the boys amazon #hughie campbell #the boys fanfic #jackles #the boys season 3 #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys s3

[cjjferk]

WW2 AU

PART 1

(+2scetches)

One September day, B. Wooster found out about Jeeves' disappearance from Aunt Dahlia's telegram.

Early summer of 1940. Bertram Wooster was completing his studies at an aviation school. At the same time his faithful valet, Jeeves, temporarily went to the service of the already mentioned relative at Brinkley Court and became the second jewel in the staff of servants besides the highly talented cook Anatole.

Due to the straitened financial situation of Uncle Tom, who complained more and more about the increasing taxes, the dearest aunt had to take forced measures and fire a few servants. She wanted to make a small sacrifice, and it might have been enough if one day her stingy husband had not cut the already small wages of the remaining servants. Many of them had applied for dismissal after that, and they were quite understandable.

This radical decision, although to a lesser extent, also affected Jeeves. Nevertheless, he continued to be a professional. He fulfilled his basic duties and often helped her, and her old friends get out of troubles.

Within a few months of Jeeves' work, they had become friends. Bertram almost felt like a third wheel in this idyll when he came to visit and boast of his achievements. Aunt Dahlia treasured her new valet and his unrivalled intelligence, and often jokingly promised in letters to her nephew that Jeeves would be returned safe and sound.

That was why she was seriously worried when Jeeves went missing. One clear day in early September, an elderly relative had let him go to London on his own business. In addition to this, it was Jeeves' duty to check on their good old Berkeley Mansions flat from time to time and keep it clean, so he planned to finish his business by evening and stay in the city overnight. He was supposed to return early the next morning. But that never happened. Not in two days. Not in three.

That night London was bombarded.

Something seemed to snap and collapse inside Bertie when he learnt that the search for Jeeves had been fruitless. Neither his relatives nor his club could shed any light on his mysterious disappearance.

The dark thoughts from which Bertram had fled during the day caught up with him at night. He would toss and turn on the hard bed, thinking of Jeeves's fate and replaying happy memories of their past, and in the daytime, tired and broken, he would give his duty to his country.

The whole situation seemed strange and unreal to him. The only thing that was found out for sure was that no one appeared in the apartment that miraculously survived the monstrous raids that day. It was dusty.

A couple of months had passed since the tragedy that divided Bertie's life into before and after. The war continued. He was learning to adjust to his new reality.

Sometimes he managed to carve out some free time and pop into London for a bit. The city where he had lived more than a third of his life was in ruins. The familiar places where he used to meet his friends and have a good time were empty.

Your humble servant avoided going into that very flat. There were too many vivid memories of that place, which painfully and mercilessly squeezed Bertram Wooster's poor skull. Indeed, the most precious person in his life had been living at his side all that time.

But still, as the sole and responsible owner of his property, he had to overpower himself. He had to go in and make sure that everything was all right. And one such day Bertie found himself there, in their former cozy home.

He walked in and looked around the living room: a layer of dust covering almost everything, furniture wrapped in covers, and only a few of his own things that he had left or forgotten here. The piano was covered with a cloth. Unbearably quiet and lifeless. There was nobody else to keep order here, nobody else's hand to create the home comfort. Sorrowful feelings pressed upon his chest.

He looked all over the flat. Almost all of it. There was only one room left to check.

After a moment's hesitation, Bertram pulled himself together and went into Jeeves's room. He had only glimpsed it from inside before. It was modest and not as spacious as his bedroom. Wooster sat down on the perfectly made bed, looking at what little was left of his dear friend, guide, and philosopher. His eyes rested on the various books dusting the shelves and cupboards.

He recognized one of them. It was the volume of Spinoza's writings he had given Jeeves for his birthday. No doubt Jeeves had read it all. As the rest of the books in the room. Bertie remembered his politely grateful smile and how he had clearly decided that this fellow deserved a whole library of those Spinozas.

He got out of bed. The code of the Woosters did not allow him to touch other people's things (even if those things belonged to a man who might never come back into his life), but something outweighed the young master's unwavering principles that day.

He didn't even notice how he left the flat with the book in his hands.

Of course, this sort of talisman invariably occupied a place in his suitcase. Though he had endeavored to handle the book with care, it had become tattered with the passage of time. Bertram often held it in his hands, flicked through the pages, ran his eyes over the neat pencil notes of its former owner. It calmed him a little in the most difficult moments of his pilot practice. He didn't understand anything about philosophy, but he treasured this book too damn much.

When they reunited, they were about a year away from the end of the war. The house with their previous flat was in a state of emergency damaged by the recent bombing raids, so Jeeves looked for a new flat for them while his employer was still undergoing treatment.

It happened some time later after their move-in. Jeeves was doing his household chores while the young master followed him around and chattered about anything that came into his head. It would have annoyed anyone, but not Jeeves.

You see, he had been abroad for a long time. However, he was not on holiday. Against his will, he was assigned important tasks and missions which he had to fulfil if he did not want to lose his freedom, his successful career, his reputation, his family, and friends. The special promise of making one particular person's life unbearable also left him no choice.

Every day, Jeeves felt like he was sitting on a powder keg: at any moment, a surprise inspection could come through the doors of his headquarters. A highly undesirable event for a man who kept fake documents, weapons, and encrypted data transmission devices in his flat. But all possible escape routes had been carefully worked out and memorized: Jeeves was always prudent. Otherwise, he had to have time to take a special pill before he found himself tied to a chair in a small interrogation room.

Keeping his charm and politeness, he was effective in getting the right information from the right people. His knowledge of psychology and accumulated experience of working with people helped him in this.

Jeeves' missions were rarely close to failure. His life depended on it.

The slightest mistake could have been fatal to him. Of course, he had learned much about the country during his training to pass for a typical Frenchman. His French had been practically flawless even before, which only made his life easier. But still somewhere in the back of his mind was the fear that he would be exposed for the smallest inaccuracy.

Jeeves lived under a false identity with a fake life story. He changed outwardly and inwardly. His gait, the way he spoke, his body language, his facial expressions. He had complete control over his body. Especially his gaze, which could tell a lot about his thoughts. It was exhausting.

After a long time of living in this way, he began to have trouble sleeping: he slept very little and sensitively or could not fall asleep at all.

He rarely had any dreams during the restless hours when he was able to fall asleep. Sometimes he had nightmares. But they were not about him. They were about Mr Wooster. Same scenario: church, flowers, closed coffin. Then it would slowly open from the inside. And Jeeves would wake up in a cold sweat.

On sleepless nights, he was also tormented by thoughts of his former employer. Where was he now? Was he all right? Was he even alive? How did he feel about his disappearance? Would he want to see him again...?

Jeeves felt his mind, which he relied on in the most critical situations, begin to fail.

Meeting his employer again and doing the household chores for him, he felt himself slowly getting his head in order. He was enjoying the much-anticipated company of Mr Wooster. It soothed him and made him feel at home.

Jeeves opened the closet to put the ironed clothes in it. The young master standing next to him had been lost in the chatter and missed the moment when he should have pulled him back. In the next moment Jeeves had pulled the ruined book out of the wardrobe the same way as he pulled out foreign clothes. By the title of the book, he thought at first that his master was interested in serious literature. But on closer look and leafing through the book, he realized that it was his own.

Bertie watched it silently with his eye wide open. He couldn't just get rid of it, but at the same time he was ashamed to return a book in such a terrible condition to its owner. He planned to buy the exact same one soon, but until then, this volume of essays would be safely hidden away. But here his innocent secret was revealed. Jeeves looked at him with a silent question in his eyes.

He tried to justify himself, but this particular Wooster was a bad liar. Especially when the pent-up feelings were starting to overwhelm him. Jeeves often let his employer fool him about little things, but they both knew very well that it was actually impossible to do this. A couple of precise laconic remarks and B. Wooster found himself disarmed. He took a breath of air and began to speak.

Jeeves listened patiently to his poor master with a mask of calmness pulled over his face and dared not interrupt.

He was sorry. He was deeply sorry for the pain he had caused Mr Wooster and his dear people by his forced departure. However, Jeeves spoke little and reluctantly about what he had been doing in recent years and did not tell anyone about the very reasons for his disappearance. This information could have caused a lot of trouble.

And Bertram realized it. His Jeeves could not just disappear for no reason, he was sure of it. But sometimes, in the deep sleepless night, a wild guess would cross his weary mind. What if Jeeves had run away, had simply abandoned him? Of course, Bertie had scolded himself for such thoughts in the mornings then. And today when Jeeves prepares breakfast for him, reminds him to take his medicine, and helps him to dress, that idea seems to him on the verge of sanity. But then he was quite capable of finding irrefutable evidence in all sorts of little things. At that time, he did not know what to think: the search for the injured had ended, Jeeves remained on the list of missing persons.

Bertram stood before him and could find no more words. But words were no longer needed. Jeeves looked at him with bright, penetrating eyes and the silence that settled in the room was filled with peace. Jeeves was truly touched. He felt a huge boulder fall from his soul.

It seemed now, as his employer lowered his head dejectedly and hid his wet eyes from him, they had the perfect moment to dot the «i».

It's been a long day.

Of course, this book stayed in their new flat and became a symbol of something important for them. Bertram, Jeeves' poor love, had indeed taken desperate measures then.

However, Jeeves pointed out that such measures would no longer be necessary.

For now, he would be there for him. He came back.

#jeeves and wooster #bertie wooster #reginald jeeves #jooster #it should have been just a couple paragraphs to explain the context of the first picture..... #but somehow it turned into five pages of text #AHAHAH(( #if you thought it was snotty and sentimental #you're right #it's just that sometimes I need something like that👉👈 #actually I'm not good at writing serious fiction and fanfic and stuff like that #especially in English #it was hard #so feel free to criticize if you find any mistakes or wrong words I used #I will correct it :) #oh and one more thing #If I remember correctly Bertie was renting the apartment not owning it🤔 #but there was no turning back...😔🥀 #fanart #my art #artists on tumblr

[wolfofcelestia]

Had a daydream about Astra deciding to fuck with Zayne and allowing Dawnbreaker and the doctor to switch bodies for a day. DB Zayne would wake up to mc whispering good morning to him and kissing behind his ear and he'd probably think it was one of his painful and pesky dreams before he realizes that the bed he's in is so much more luxurious than his own, opens his eyes and starts taking in his surroundings in dr Zayne's apartment. He'd probably want to spend the whole day holding her and making love to her until she finally convinces him to go out, where he'd be blown away by the thriving Linkon city he's read so much about. Our poor doctor Zayne waking up in the squalor that is Dawnbreaker's apartment and immediately sent into despair, not knowing if he'll ever get to return to his life with mc. And when the day is done and they switch back...the agony Dawnbreaker would be in would be heart-wrenching, and the relief the doctor would feel..ugh why do I do this to myself lol. optional side plot mc becomes pregnant, and doctor Zayne can never be sure if he fathered the child, or if it was Dawnbreaker Zayne in his absence.. paternity test would come back the same either way, I'd assume

Anon out here being more brutal than me about Dawnbreaker lmao

I wonder how Zayne would feel about the kid knowing it was DB’s though. Because MC would definitely know if it wasn’t him she was sleeping with

DB may have been in Zayne’s body but the ways they love MC, both emotionally and physically, are completely different. It would definitely feel like sleeping with a whole different person

And MC just went along with that like it was no big deal sleeping with another man? Does she have feelings for him? Strong enough to betray Zayne? Is it even a betrayal? It’s him but it isn’t

If she loves Zayne, wouldn’t she love Dawnbreaker too? They are two sides of the same coin, after all. And Dawnbreaker is a living embodiment of all of Zayne’s fears, insecurities, and weaknesses. So if MC can love all of Zayne’s weaknesses in the form of Dawnbreaker, doesn’t that mean she really loves Zayne?

I think he’d love the child as his own, because on paper, it is. But he’ll always have these questions in his mind

If another Zayne were to just appear out of nowhere, would she just as easily fall in love with him? Would she love the other versions of him more? Would she leave him for another version of him?

Every time he has to cancel their date to attend to an emergency, there will always be a thought gnawing at the back of his mind:

“If there was a version of me who could give her the love she needs and deserves, she would be better off with him.”

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #dawnbreaker #scenarios #headcanons #asks

[coldbloods]

honestly the fact that its so hard to find an apartment in this city that im currently unable to do anything but move back home is literally soooooo insane

#get me out of here!!! #im just so annoyed cus its like #its not too expensive to live here like the apartments are expensive but its not like theyre thousands of dollars a month #but! there are like. two apartments in the whole city #forever #so even tho theyre not that expensive theyre just. there arent any #idk what the fuck went wrong here but its bad #ps

[strawbebbiesart]

june/ july / august 💌🥪🦢

#digital art #artists on tumblr #illustrators on tumblr #original illustration #original art #sasha's art #work and classes start next week for me and also for all of my friends #and probably the whole city as well #so i wanted to do something to say goodbye to this summer #there was so much stress we went through with me moving to a new country and figuring out health care and banks and all of that fun stuff #and a lot of going back and forth between vienna and my home town #and also two (2) of my friends moved apartments and everyone went on vacation at different times #BUT #throught it all we still managed to see each other a lot and i feel like we made the most of it #i had fun and i really appreciated it all #so i wanted to capture all of these small moments #the swims in the danube and the picknics and the swans with their chattering #this was my first summer i got to spend while living in this city i've dreamed about my whole life #and i got to spend it with the love of my life and a beautiful group of friends #here's to many more!! #i hope you all also had a nice summer and i hope your return to work/ school/ whatever is comfortable and easy ! #i have many ideas for art currently which always happens when i am about to have yero free time lmao #we'll see how much time i manage to make for it and when i can post my next big Piece #but hopefully soon!! my resolve is Big and my passion is all encompasing !!!!

[quickhacked]

Mikhail and Vitali were inseparable; when they weren’t studying or getting into fights, they would hang out at Mikhail’s place to smoke and get drunk on cheap rum and vodka, to then pass out in each other’s arms and sleep most of the next day away. They promised each other— no matter what would happen— they would never leave each other’s side. Yet after starting university and college respectively, they did not see each other for a little over six years, leaving them both heartbroken and wondering what went wrong.

by lucas expedidor // catch me if you can; eden // clementine von radics, from 'courtney love prays to oregon' // sam sax, cruising: a broken tiara // 'ceramic home' by heavensghost; quote from john murillo // 'something's changed' by laiikastears // i don't want to watch the world end with someone else; clinton kane // fortesa latifi, from 'the truth about grief' // audre lorde, the evening news // frank o'hara, biotherm (for bill berkson) // heading home; ruben // 'preface to a dream' by alessandra casini // tokyo; caroline kole // langston hughes, poem // haruki murakami, norwegian wood // julie buntin, marlena // by lute // by aleksandr popov // anyway; noah kahan // christa wolf, cassandra: a novel and four essays

#cp2077 #edit:mikhail #edit:vitali #nuclearocs #nuclearedits #happy birthday to my two boys :^) yes they share the same birthday what about it. it's essential to their whole. thing #whatever it is. they're like soulmates but also they are NOT dating. i need you to understand that. because it makes everything funnier #you guys remember when i first introduced them here and people thought they were together. good times honestly #but yeah no vitali is officially dating vincent and mikhail is just their eternal third wheel. their relationship can't be defined #they also reunite of course but i LOVE emphasizing their grief. they didn't know they'd ever see each other again #and they've known each other since around age 12. imagine spending almost every day with someone who CHOSE you #and then suddenly not seeing them or talking to them for YEARS. what do you do with that grief. that pain #sure they've found each other back but what do you do with that. where do you put it. it makes me insane!!! #they both were so lonely in their own way. vitali getting lost in vices and crowds but ending up all by himself at the end of the day #and mikhail drowning himself in studying and pushing himself far over his limits just to distract himself from the hole in his chest #night city in my head is much more massive than what it feels like in game. like yeah it feels big but not. BIG big #and i think mikhail and vitali's story and them losing contact while only a district apart really emphasizes how like #how HUGE this city is not only in terms of actual land it covers but also just. how overwhelming it is. how it can swallow you whole #anyway if you've read all of this hi. wanna make out

[lionydoorin]

i cannot tell you guys enough how i HATE movie blockbuster culture.

not gonna lie i used to LOVE superhero movies, had a huge marvel and dc phase and hold my favourite characters and films so dearly in my heart.

but when you want to go to the movie theatre to watch something and you CAN'T watch it because literally ALL of the screenings are for superhero films and they literally only have one or two spaces for other movies, it really disencourages you from going to the movies at all.

like it isn't hard bro ik it's on demand but when you have 6 rooms for the same movie that have similar screening hours, of which most aren't even CLOSE to being sold out or are almost empty, maybe you should, you know, try to give the space for other films????? in reasonable hours so people can have more options???? it ISN'T HARD?????

how are we gonna encourage people to watch movies in theatres and not on streaming if we don't give them the opportunity to. yk. WATCH MOVIES

#this is just a vent btw #i just wanted to watch mean girls with my gf and we had to reschedule because the ONE mean girls screening sold out #and the next one was 8pm but im not sleeping in my city so i had to drive to a whole diff town #and ALL of the other screenings were for aquaman. literally ONE (1) room for mean girls with TWO screenings 6 hours apart from each other #while aquaman occupied 6 rooms. and most of them were empty #and mean girls isnt even a small indie film . like. #WHYYYYY #ma ur rambling

[arnold-layne]

wanted to stream today but got my mood majorly spoiled and now i just don’t wanna do anything. still on the verge of crying even though it was a silly thing. why do i take everything so close to heart

#im just. so exhausted #i had to run around the city like headless chicken the whole weekend #and the weather DID NOT HELP #i hate winter and i hate buses #and i hate that there are only two weekends. like i did my #i did my things and there is no time left to chill #tired tired tired #as much as im excited for a new apartment moving sure is tedious and ungrateful #arnold’s laments

[mindshelter]

anyway. two days ago i was on a bus with 30+ minutes left to my destination when a guy in front of me very abruptly got up and plunked his ass to the empty seat next to mine, introduced himself and asked for my number. i was so frazzled i just kinda went ... uhh... okay? and let him hand me his phone. and i feel... dumb for doing that and not having any sort of mental script ready and not even giving him a fake number, but he also ... called my cell on the spot to make sure it was the right number? so. lmao. what would have even been the right option. he stayed for another couple minutes trying to make conversation. we were on such a long stretch of road, and i had a window seat so when he sat down i physically had zero exit anyway. he got back into his original seat afterwards but i still feel like i was being an idiot days later. eh

verdict: :(

#sigh. initially he turned around to ask me for directions and i was nice (because i am nice) and then it became... that........ #regardless. i had my earbuds in! i was hugging my bag to myself! i think that's a clear enough ''do not disturb'' no? #but since he called my phone he's BLOCKED ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 #and i checked his linkedin and he works decently far from me ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥 #intellectually i know i didn't fuck up—told him i was meeting up with friends/mentioned a guy was in this group/stayed noncommittal/ #only provided first name etc but ouuhhh i feel dumb. not bad or threatened just really stupid #and maybe kind of sad? i dunno. last time i tried to enjoy myself the same way i was on a road trip with some people #and one guy i wasn't as close with chatted with me the whole time which i didn't mind but he started asking me if i wanted to do stuff #just the two of us #not on like. a date in the city even. he was dead serious about me going somewhere remote with him multiple times #asked if i wanted to hang out almost daily after that #at one point i mentioned my apartment was having a technician over to install something and he immediately invited himself over #to... do it for me... #like... can i just enjoy my breaks. please #beepost

[ruffgem]

one of my roommates just told me they read my comic… holy shit good thing I didn’t make it a thinly veiled story about how much I hate my roommates like I almost did

#I really did not think either of them would ever read it that’s crazy #ok but tbh #Nelly living in the garage while Brutalia lives in a whole ass house is actually lowkey an exaggeration of my life LOL #I literally live in my room because my roommate moved her BF in and they take over the entire apartment while I am sequestered in my room #LOL #i would never do this because it’s simply not like me but sometimes I think about how I could write like the most scathing letter about how #they were the shittiest roommates ever and leave it for them when I go home… #but I won’t because that’s petty #but I could. it would be so beautiful #I won’t though… it will be satisfying enough to delete their numbers when I’m out of this city for good #I JUST HAVE TO SURVIVE UNTIL MAY (graduation) #if anyone’s ever wondering why I’m so annoying all of the time but ESPECIALLY when I go back to college this is why ok it’s because I live #in One Room #I’ve sat on my couch 4 times in the three years I’ve lived here #I become 800 times more normal every time I go home because I’m able to exist in multiple rooms without third-wheeling two fuckheads #GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! no it’s okay.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#i have to drive to the big city tomorrow morning... which is... #itll b fine. ive done it multiple times before so itll b fine #but also everytime i have to drive somewhere im a sobbing mess bc its so scary #and i space out which is terrifying so i have to sing and talk to myself the whole time so my brain doesnt drift too far #and i dont kno how long i have to b there or if ill b able to find parking... #i just hate is so much. literally its not a far trip. if we have a fucking working train system there would b a train between our two #universities and it would b like 30min. such fucking bullshit. that would b incredible. i would actually b able to go places #fuck the lack of public train transportation. its stupid. #at least i was busy all day. its crazy how much less terrible my day is when im in a semi empty lab working with algae #hopefully i didnt kill the culture bc i had to transfer immediately after making media. i think it cooled enough but well see #fuck. i dont wanna drive. i should sleep so im not more insane tomorrow #its crazy how distorted i get abt driving. i will convince myself that my car is gonna like fall apart while im driving #and that im absolutely going to have an accident caused by me. so i get up like ok this is where it all ends #in a smear across the highway #oh god i have to get gas tomorrow too #thry recommended i get there at 9 but maybe ill get there 8.30 and just like sit in my car crying for half an hour #lol i turn up to the lab with tear stained cheeks like hey sorry if it seemed like i was resistant to coming down here. im very unwell ✌️ #bleh. lets not think abt it. dont think just do. and pray i dont have to fucking go multiple days #my reward for success is no spring break bc a stressful project will begin this weekend #but im not even sure i have spring break bc im a lab tech so i think mayne thats not a loss? idk i dont kno #when im supposed to b working or not. it doesnt matter. my tine sheets r a lie #time sheets :-P #unrelated

[hoperays-song]

Sing Floorplans PT.5: Nooshy’s Apartment

got the apartment after the Majestic run

one of the rugs look like a watermelon

is a studio apartment but used bookcases and closets to separate the bed

is in Redshore, not Calatonia due to most of their work being there

Marcus, Johnny, Ryan, Stan, Barry, and Ash helped her move and decorate 

decently modern but painted the walls bright colors

#sing #sing 2 #sing nooshy #sing floorplans #they/she nooshy supremacy #the apartment looks like a paint store exploded #johnny complained about the brightness causing his eyes to bleed the whole time they were painting #marcus just cuffed him over the head and told him to be nice to his sibling with a laugh #nooshy does travel back and forth between the two cities a lot to see everyone #she does get a car #marcus helps them repair it

[i-am-become-a-name]

What's your interpretation of the weird/annoyed look Five gets on his face when Tegan announces that she wants to rejoin the TARDIS at the end of Arc of Infinity? I know it was probably meant to be played for laughs, but it annoys me every time i watch that episode and i'm curious what headcanons people have about it.

My favourite thing I've read about it pointed out that the cybermen specifically used Tegan as a weakness against five, that she's what it took to manipulate him (and through no fault of either of them, Adric's death was part of those consequences.) The novelisation really goes in to the descriptions of the doctor transfixed with the blood running down Tegan's chin from her bitten lip, the building tension as the cybermen get closer and closer to killing her and he's shaking trying to hold himself back from admitting his hearts are so easy to twist, just by threatening his friends. (Does Nyssa ever leave the TARDIS when it's on the spaceship? The cybermen don't even know she exists til they come onboard do they?)

As for why he looks so annoyed? hmmm. Does anyone want someone around that constantly needles them? Really, I think pre Arc of Infinity that even though Tegan had chosen to stay, they still had that power imbalance or even just tension between them that she had not come on board willingly. So five is expecting that to be the continuing, I don't know, continuing manner between them and it hadn't been good. It had its moments (mainly in the audios) but as an arrangement it was not ideal as friends to explore the universe together, all that terrible beauty and awesome monsters.

But it doesn't continue on in that manner - oh they bicker and make faces at each other, sure, but Tegan's conscious decision to step back onto the TARDIS irons out those imbalances, removes that bitterness and the past of her aunt's death. So when he makes that wee face, it's in expectation of the previous status quo. And never let it be said that Tegan's one to do exactly what's expected of her.

Anyway I really hope this makes sense and I may add some more thoughts later but it's 1:50 am Christmas Eve and I couldn't sleep for thinking about this.

----

It's 2am I'm back. I feel like there's also this uneasiness in five about tegan, that mirror that no one likes being held up to themselves. Their similarities but the starkly different ways they express them must be exhausting to five. and here she is back again. To push and prod and challenge and be brashly beautifully glorious. wait. that last bit was the two am shipper coming out. Anyway they draw strength and resolve and anger from each other and Tegan was vital to five, from his first moments till his very last.

#again sorry if it's not coherent but it's been a WEEK. and it's still going. #look away if you're not interested because whatever it's my boring life stuff but. worked sunday and tuesday. thursday my boss texted me #did i want to go up to the next largest city flights and accomodation paid and worked for two weeks at their branch of our shop. #(i said no thank you but holy sht.) and that whole day we'd been taking the house apart looking for dads santa outfit for reading #night before christmas to the kids. utterly gone. nowhere to be found. sister said she had one so we were like oof we can relax it's fine. #sister did not in fact have one. so we took the house apart again. still not here. friday i went out and bought the fabric and fur to Make #one (six straight hours work on the jacket alone) and the kids come up to decorate their trees. #oh! and! when i went in to work to buy the fur (i can only purchase stuff of managers it's store policy) she was like. you can't leave the #shop. stay here. and i went no???? have i done something wrong??? but another manager came down and the managers had put together little #Christmas gift bags for everyone which is so sweet because i still feel like I'm there on sufferance even though it's been like 4 months. #but then. seven o'clock or so when i was still cutting up panne velvet i get an email from the boss who offered me the chch opportunity - #he's now quitting his position at our store. two weeks notice. so I'm stressed about that because we had a good thing going where he'd text #me once a week. we'd arrange extra shifts and that was it. what if the new store manager sucks or hates me or something?? #and I've got like five half finished advent fics but i just. don't have the spoons between work tired and c19 brain fog and christmas tired #anyway none of this is about five and Tegan I'm so sorry i just need about ten more weighted blankets on me. #five #tegan #an ask a palpable ask #srsly i love being asked about them or any dw opinions you are so wonderful in my eyes #tbh the advent fics are getting to the point i might just post them all the way through January and when i write little ficlets. people #seem vaguely to be enjoying them but trying to do a December thing was a bit much. #I've just realised this week was even longer. last Saturday we spent the whole day out of town with the kids. and Tuesday we went out of #town to do the stuff we'd planned to do before we had to babysit them on our planned trip day. jfc no wonder I can't brain straight

[loverboybitch]

getting really attached to the idea of living in my little apartment forever actually.//.

#imjustsittinghere #i know iv complained about this apartment alot but i think i could make it really nice if i tried #been thinking about moving a bunch n stuff cause i thought my roomie was moving out in the summer but apparently not #was also just playing around with the idea that if he does move out id just rent the whole thing for myself if i get my promotion #n that still sounds like a really fun n cool idea #literally 1 bedrooms in the city are like 2000$ anyway and we pay 1900 here so like.. i could have two bedrooms lol #keep mine as a bedroom as is cause its cozy n nice in here #turn my roommates room into a nice living room . like i already know how id lay it out #turn the space we currently have as a lil living room/my sewing space into an actual just nice little workspace maybe #and i was flipping through my zines just now and i have one from billie about making a darkroom and now im thinking how easy it would #be to turn our weird little grotto thing into a really nice lil darkroom for developing film....... #wouldnt that be sick.. i know so many people who shoot film i could develop and do prints for people #like yeah that little grotto flooded literally yesterday cause of a storm but i think i could improve upon the space alot #of course cant really move on this cause my roommate is presumably still gonna be living here for a while (two years most likely) #but smthn to think about. in the meantime im working on getting a new couch for our tiny living room so its at least a nice spot #i was rearranging some stuff the other night n i think im gonna add some shelves n make it alot cozier of a space #or maybe ill end up moving who knows! #anyway interview for my promotion on monday wish me luck my loves <3