[5 in #literasia, 14 in #lesbianstories] It was the twenty-seventh of May when it all began. In a single night, Indira Mistry gave her heart hope, wore it on her sleeve, got it beaten up, drowned it with alcohol, smoked it with cigarettes, poured it out and got it torn through and stepped on, all in the space of a few hours. She was convinced that was where her story ended, where her two-year liking for the only boy she had truly felt this strongly about came to an end. Indira Mistry, after seven double vodka and Cokes, four cigarettes and an almost trip to a strip club, had decided to tell the boy of her dreams things she had been too scared to even admit to herself. But little did she know, her time was just beginning and nothing could prepare her for the summer where she would finally start living for herself.

[Formerly known as 'Trinkets'] Mahika and Amoli can't stand each other, but that's not the only thing they have in common. Mahika treats Amoli like she's childish. Amoli thinks Mahika is a stuck-up prude. But Mahika's best friend and Amoli's brother are getting married, so they can't ignore each other forever. If that wasn't the case, they wouldn't even acknowledge each other's existence. Right? Wrong. What meets the eye isn't all there is, is it? Throw a big fat Indian wedding, some alcohol, and a dimly lit hotel room together, and you'll find out, too. Because Mahika and Amoli certainly do.

Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes. WARNING: all rights go to velvetoscar on ao3 Cover made by: whatkooloser