#i just took the excuse to ramble and scream about this album | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bizlybebo · 4 months

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oh my god im not your girlfriend but i NEED your normal album analysis omg (im normal about will wood btw)

HI OH MY GOD I TOOK SO LONG TO ANSWER THIS I AM. S ORRY

AUGHH this is definitely an excuse to ramble and i am TAKING it thank you so much for this

im fucking obsessed with the normal album. like sosoos much. it's such a subversive and creative and just. sort of album that you've never seen before, i think it seriously doesn't get the credit it deserves augh

first off here's a link to a 3-hour long analysis of the normal album that i haven't actually watched yet

here's where im cutting the post off before i start incoherently rambling about every song so that i don't curse people's dashes with having to Scroll for a million miles

THIS IS. A LONG ASS POST. LIKE 2.3K WORDS. SO IF YOU CLICK ON THIS BE WARNED LMAO.

i don't expect this to get more than like 2-3 notes this is literally just an open ramble about the normal album cause i got an excuse to.

Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary-Bell Township / Vampire Culture is SUCHH a good intro to the album. like. not even going into the lyricism it's fucking so insanely well-composed in a musical sense, I LOVE the samples and the immediate, like, doorbell sound at the very beginning because it just. introduces the ENTIRE album so well.

and the way it introduces will wood's motif of "Everybody's all up in my goddamn business" is SOSOO good.

The first half or so of the song is very illustrative of the typical, like, nuclear family, with these sounds inspired by a very upbeat, like... almost 60s-70s kind of music? It's a very creative song but it's tune and melody are also somewhat restrictive for a decent part of it, expressing perfectly what will wood's saying about this kind of lifestyle. If that makes sense?

and THEN the sudden switch into vampire culture is INSANE. im fucking AUGHGHGH over it.

It draws back on this stereotypical, happy lifestyle where something just seems a bit off and leans ENTIRELY into the uncanny-ness of it all. it's a sudden jump into random tempo switches, fucking just making all the noise he wants, and screaming "fuck your culture".

like the symbolism is so clear yet so subtle. I fucking love it.

and I am

OBSESSED. with this outro.

and THEN the little 'love me, normally' melody at the end is fucking INSANEEE augh. there was literally no better way to start this album off.

2econd 2ight 2eer (that was fun, goodbye) is EASILY one of my fucking favorites on this album. like. god.

IMMEDIATELY starting off with "take it with a pillar of salt, H.A.L.T., it's not my fault", illustrates the point of this song so well.

HALT is the acronym Hungry Angry Lonely Tired. It encourages you to "halt" and think before making an important decision and evaluate-- are you any of these four things?

And it's often been suggested by psychiatrists to a lot of people dealing with mental health issues.

The reason why I'm so obsessed with this lyric is because this entire song is basically accepting, "hey. i'm mentally ill. like i am. FUCKED in the head. this isn't something i can't escape, not really. i'm learning to be okay with this instead of searching my whole life for a cure. i'm never going to be able to assimilate fully into normal society."

and it's mixed with this very, like. Rudimentary view of how society views mentally ill people / those struggling with more severe psychological conditions. The chorus is literally "I'm just a psycho babe; come and go out my mind"

It's almost like this expression of mania, what with the upbeat tempo and the dark lyrics.

"I didn't lose it, I set it free" is another lyric in this song i just. augh. love. love love lvoe vloevleo this whole album. this is DEFINITELY the song i could say the MOST about. but i feel like i'd almost have to save that for another, more organized post.

Laplace's Angel / Hurt People? (Hurt People!)

AUGGGHHHHH.

god.

The title Laplace's Angel comes from the idea of Laplace's Demon, which concerns the whole idea of determinism, etc. It's essentially the idea that if a demon knew the position of everything, everywhere, the laws of physics would allow it to predict and understand the future.

it. doesn't make a lot of sense to me tbh.

BUT.

i understand determinism in a sense, and it's basically the idea that free will doesn't exist and that we and our actions are. products of the things that have already happened to us.

That's the best way I can explain it.

And I think that all of this, tied together with how the song is discussing important topics of morality, etc. is just. So cool and artistic and. God.

It references this guttural, primal sort of fear and this sort of "predictability" of the human psyche with the lyric that throws the entire song into it's first chorus-- said lyric being:

"Run your diagnostic tests, it's posited; nobody dies agnostic, though we still dial 9-1-1."

AND THEEENNNN. the chorus itself. augh.

You could go on all day about the main voice, "Could you take a look at me?" but i'm more in love with the backing chorus--

"It's the norm for animals, it's the norm for chemicals -- It's the norm for particles, eye for eye, for tooth"

and you can see a lot of references to other philosophies such as "an eye for an eye".

AND THEN the bridge being "wash your hands of where you been until you flood the second floor - neatly fold your skeletons but still can't shut the closet door"

essentially just being this greater commentary on morals as a whole, and how, in a sense, morality is just. subjective. Like I don't think I have the skill to illustrate just how insightful this song is on the topic of morality. god.

I / Me / Myself !

so obviously i / me / myself is a remaster of sorts of i / me / myself by Will Wood and the Tapeworms (versus just solo Will Wood)

BUT I LVOE THIS SONG. SO MUCH.

Will Wood wrote this song, essentially, about wishing he could express his femininity properly, right? how he felt like people refused to accept his identity as cisgender and heterosexual because he was a crossdresser, and very proud of it?

i fucking love that. he just puts absolutely everyone on blast for that. he's a cis dude who's also fucking with gender and fashion and art and he's letting people understand that.

but here's where i get personal because i ADORE the song as a lesbian who doesn't consider himself cisgender in the slightest.

I've spent my whole life wishing I could "be a girl" despite being born and raised female-- I simply just didn't fit into the mold of traditional femininity and, growing up in a religious background, that just made it even more difficult to fit in.

So I LOVE the lyric "i wish i were a girl".

AND THE BRIDGE IM JUST OBSESSED WITH TOO

"Eating your prosthetic, meet your anesthetic criteria, pathetic seeing you become acetic -- Say my name like a slur, but I've been called worse; I've heard it all before, no this isn't a first -- Let me be the void you fill with taxidermy fingerprints, taxonomize our differences -- I am quantum physics, my witness brings me to existence"

I think I just. need to leave that there. Cause it says more than I ever could. rahgaghag

and then closing out with the repeated line "all identities are equally invalid; don't you think that there's a chance that you could live without it?" is such cool like. food for thought yk?

idk i love the view Will Wood gave here, honestly. Especially knowing that he's very accepting of the lgbt+ community.

...well, better than the alternative

HOLY SHIT I AM. AUGH. UNWELL OVER THIS SONG.

see, the way I view it, is this attempt to just. Play into a normal, quiet life, despite EVERYTHING mentioned previously in the album. It's about trying to shove beside everything else for a normal existence.

It ties into suburbia overture, i / me / myself, and 2econd 2ight 2eer soso well. it's the perfect "halfway point of the entire album".

another lyric that i just HAVE to throw in here "This isn't my first kiss, it's better to be lost than loved, now isn't it?"

i'm mainly just. obsessed with that because of how aromantic it sounds. even though i know that's not how it was intended.

but i LOVE. THIS SONG. AUGH i love them all obviously but this one has such a special place in my heart.

It's asking somebody to "play along with" you (referring to the normal life thing) and THEN the whole "I just wanna do what's right by you"

it's just. tying together all the previous songs and like. expressing, essentially. "I'm fucked up. Are you willing to put up with me?"

or maybe im just yapping about absolutely nothing on this one idk

I don't know much more about the second half of this album, but I feel like diving into the lyrics of Outliars and Hyppocrates : a fun fact about apples is something i definitely need to do soon. i love this song's musical composition and.

"Don't wanna be human, anyways -- who pilots all these crude machines" ?? BANGER FUCKING LYRIC.

It's essentially just-- "the things that make you special are the things that make you strange"

meaning. get weirder with it. get fucking weirder with your art.

BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA is probably my favorite song on this album in terms of, musical composition and noise. I've pored over these lyrics soosososo many times and a lot of it goes over my head but over time I've started to understand a LOT of it and i just. augh.

also this song has such strong animatic vibes?? this is the one that makes me think SO much about my current writing project and i adore it for that.

I wish i was like. able to coherently express my thoughts on the lyrics of this song but they're just so complicated and. wow. it's. I think Will Wood totally outdid himself with this one because this is the most. Perfectly tied-together song on this entire album.

HOLY SHITTT

MARSHA, THANKK YOU FOR THE DIALETICS, BUT I NEED YOU TO LEAVE

OKAY I LIED I CAN TALK ABOUT THIS ONE ALL FUCKING DAY.

GOD.

I'M AUTISTIC. IN THE DIAGNOSIS PROCESS. AND LET ME TELL YOU I AM FUCKING OBSESED WITH THIS ONE SO MUCH.

Essentially, under our current system, any inability to perfectly execute a grueling 9-5, 5 days a week, on top of the mental labor of schooling and debt etc. is considered a disability. "Actual" diagnosed people are just the canaries in the coal mines, we're struggling soso much daily and it's just.

It's expanding upon this idea of microlabels and how Will Wood feels about them, and i honestly do think that, even though it's not the intent of this song, it can open up a conversation about how autism is not a "silly" thing. yk how the jokes have essentially become "I have (normal personality trait), is this... 'the tism'?" or the obsession with the fucking. god. "Neurospicy" thing.

^and how this improper culture/misunderstanding of neurodivergency and the need to make it more sanitized/palatable feeds into consumerism. but i can. go on a rant about that some other day.

But basically, with the lyric that "Dr., what's my prognosis if the study shows that: disease is in the eye of the beholder?" it expresses this sort of disdain, almost, with greater society's view on psychiatric abnormalities. if that. makes sense.

and then it's this constant repetition of "Back in my day ; ; ; we just drank ourselves to death. And we fucking liked it". It's also jabbing at this idea of how, in previous generations, you were generally just told to suck it up or you were left behind/ostracized entirely. It's about older generations not understanding the surge of mental health issues as of late. Closing with "We just bled out in the bed".

I love this song. So much. But I feel like this is all I'm gonna say about it because honestly this sort of discourse. Tires me out so much.

AAA OKAY

MY FUCKING LOVE MY DEARIE MY SHINING STAR I LOVE THIS NEXT SONG MORE THAN I LOVE ANYTHING ELSE ON THIS FUCKING PLANET

Love, me Normally

GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

THIS IS THE ONE. THIS IS THETHE THE THE THEHT EH *THE* ONE.

THIS IS THE SONG THAT I UNDERSTAND THE MOST. THIS SONG IS LITERALLY ME. ME ME EM EM ME EAUGGHGH

HOLY SHIT.

I feel like so much has already been said on this song. I want to highlight, specifically, the bridge.

This is. my favorite piece of lyricism Will Wood has EVER put out and i fucking mean that.

---

"Now this is the part of the song where I like to talk to my audience

I like to tell 'em there's something I want from you hep cats tonight

I want you to look to your left, look to your right

Your 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight

And I want you to find those points of no return, those singularities

Those burning rings of fire in the beautiful pupils of the beautiful eyes of the beautiful

Boy, girl, neither, both, or in-between that you brought with you tonight

And I want you to tell 'em how you really feel

I want you to tell 'em that you love the way they so seamlessly, like-a-dream-fully

So beautifully, oh so dutifully

Jam that square peg in the round hole in their heart

I want you to tell 'em that you love the way

That they don't stick out like sore middle fingers

That they crawl their way up the side of the bell curve

Stick their flag in the peak, and slide their way back down

I want you to tell them that you love the way that they're not maladaptive

Not malcontent, not malignant or maleficent, but rather that you love them

Exactly the way that everybody else is!"

---

now is it. unnecessary. to paste it all in here? certainly. but i just. love this so much.

the constant motif of mentioning the bell curve is amazing, too. I love this album because of it's essential... just. Being so outside of the normal bounds of society that all you can do is sit back and observe it all like "huh".

this is another ramble that i'd have to save for another post because this is the one that i understand the most.

I personally like to view this one through the lens of aromanticism. cause i can.

Now I'm not gonna go too much into detail on Memento Mori: the most important thing in the world cause BOY is it existential.

but i do think it's a beautiful way of tying this entire album together.

this entire album is almost like a note to humanity in general, this whole "you may not listen to me ever again, but give me these 45 minutes of your life to change your outlook on all of it".

Despite this album being subjective and subversive? Deviating so strongly from the norm that the average person, hell, even most avid fans, could never begin to relate to most of it?

It has this sort of... span of the human existence, in a sense. It understands it on such a small level, and it speaks bast the barriers that we usually don't try to cross. It just says shit that nobody else has said before.

I <3 this album. So insanely much.

I think that it's honestly one of the better pieces of music period that have been put out in these last few years. nothing else is as lyrically, linguistically, or musically different. aughgg

thank you for the ask if you read to the end youre fucking insane.

#vixen rambles #vixen answers #will wood #the normal album #dont feel pressured to read all of this #im not even proofreading it #i just took the excuse to ramble and scream about this album #becuase. i love it #insanely good insanely creative just insane #william woodiam #love me normally

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fanfic-me-up · 4 years

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Insecure s/o with short hair || Headcanons

This is a lovely request! Thank you for the awesome idea @bitweird1

I can relate to this so hard that I wrote Midoriya’s based on my experience with a haircut that went wrong. I cried with my mom in the car for like half an hour 😂

I hope you like it! I’m sure you look lovely with your haircut 💖

Midoriya Izuku

He’s very supportive of you changing your hairstyle!

Will listen to you ramble as you scroll through hair inspiration pics.

“You’ll look beautiful either way, Y/N.”

He’ll take you to the salon and wait while you get your haircut. He’s the No. 1 pro-hero, but he’ll always make time for his girl.

Oh no, did you really ask for it that short?

Your hair painfully stays put no matter how you ruffle it.

It’s just hair, it’ll grow back. You repeat, but that doesn’t stop the lump in your throat from surfacing.

Izuku drops the magazine he’s holding to stand, his eyes roaming your face with a sense of wonder.

“Wow, Y/N, you look…”

“I know.” You look down to hide the tears welling up. It’s bad enough you hate your hair, but you can’t stand the thought of Izuku hating it too.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Izuku brushes your hair behind your ear, but it’s so short that it falls back in your face again.

The tears threaten to fall and you don’t want to make a scene so you grab Izuku’s hand and drag him to the car.

You ramble about how bulky your head looks and how you won’t be able to style your hair anymore like you used to.

And poor Izuku looking like a confused puppy bc you look freaking gorgeous?

“Okay please slow down, babe, I have no idea what you’re talking about, it looks great!”

“I’m bald, ‘Zuku, it doesn’t get worse than this!”

“Would it make you feel better if I showed you the pictures my mom took when I cut and dyed my hair like All Might’s?”

You sniffle, “…maybe”

Okay, you know you’re being over-dramatic, but it’s gonna take a while for your hair to grow back and you’re dreading the whole awkward phase where your hair is neither short nor long.

Izuku makes it his personal mission to make you feel comfortable in your own skin again. we all know this boy doesn’t know when to quit

He will put his research skills to the test, scouring the internet for ways to make your hair grow faster and different hairstyles to try.

Be prepared to experiment!

Izuku is gonna raid the pantry, combining different ingredients to make hair masks!

If it doesn’t work, he will jot it down in his notebook dedicated to you and move on to the next combination.

Spa night will become a regular thing!

Thanks to Izuku’s big brain and hardwork, your hair grows back in no time!

But you kinda miss your short hair bc spa night was bonding time for you and Izuku.

He surprises you when he comes in with a sheet mask on his face and hands you one of your own.

Just because your hair grew back doesn’t mean spa night is over!

Todoroki Shouto

You decided to take the plunge and get a pixie cut!

All the girls compliment you when you walk in.

“Girl, you look hot!” Mina gushes.

“I’m so jealous! I wish I could pull off a pixie cut like you!” Ochako says.

You blush and thank them for their kind words.

Todoroki stops in his tracks at the sight of you.

Will he love it? Will he hate it?

“Beautiful.”

That one word sends your heart for a loop.

But your confidence is shattered when you and Todoroki go out the next day and two guys on the street make some rude comments.

“Which one of ya’s the dude?”

“Nah, man they’re both dudes!”

They hold their stomachs, laughing at their sad excuse of a joke.

Your hand grips Todoroki’s tight, scared that if you let go you might have a breakdown right here in the middle of the street. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before setting his gaze on the two jerks.

“Say that one more time.”

His eyes narrow as he conjures unforgiving shards of ice from his right side.

The two guys run away in fear.

Since that incident, you feel the overwhelming urge to throw a cap on and hide the hair you were once so confident in.

You ask Todoroki when you’re checking your hair out in the mirror if he prefers you with short or long hair.

“I prefer you.”

Todoroki is clueless about how to address the situation. He misses your confident persona and your carefree smile.

The whole week you feel like someone’s watching you; following you to class - and you must be going crazy because you swear you see camera flashes. How creepy if someone’s taking pictures of you... 👀

You walk to your dorm after class, prepared to watch movies all weekend, when you spot a photo album sitting on your bed.

What the heck is a photo album doing on your bed?

You flip through it to find photos of you. They must’ve been taken from a distance and would explain the weird feelings and camera flashes.

“So I wasn’t imagining it…”

You see yourself smiling with Mina and Ochako in the lounge, laughing with Kirishima and Kaminari during lunch, and you smirking when you landed the winning blow during a training exercise with Bakugou.

“You like it?”

You jump and turn to find Todoroki watching you intently.

Oh thank god. You were kinda scared there was a serial killer after you.

“Um… I appreciate the gesture? But… why?”

“To show you how pretty you look.”

Todoroki flips through the pages and shows you the different pictures, pointing out what he likes about each one.

“There’s no reason for you to be insecure, Y/N, look at you, you’re beautiful.”

You’re touched at the effort Todoroki put into proving how much he adored you, even if the execution was a bit weird.

“Thank you, Shouto, I… I needed this.” You wrap your hands around his neck and peck his lips.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.”

“But we do need to talk about you taking pictures of me like a stalker.”

Todoroki cocks his head like taking pictures from a distance without your consent never occurred to him. You shake your head and smile at his cluelessness.

You pull him down for another kiss and when he runs his fingers through your hair; it brings a smile to your lips.

Kirishima Eijirou

You’re not one to back down from a dare.

“You’re gonna regret it,” Kirishima says.

“Bet!”

Yeah… you regretted it the moment you looked in the mirror, Kaminari’s reflection looking sheepish with a pair of scissors in his hand. Tufts of hair, your hair that was just on your head a moment ago, now on the floor.

You know those scenes in movies where someone screams and each shot zooms further and further out until they’re screaming so loud it can be heard from outer space? Yeah, that’s basically what happens.

Everyone rushes down wondering who the hell got murdered in the middle of the night.

Bakugou calls you an idiot, Midoriya gives you words of encouragement, and Aizawa-sensei is just… done.

Kirishima will 100% help you style your hair. He knows more about hair than all your girlfriends combined.

He even convinces you to dye your hair bc why not at this point. But you’re not sure since you’ve never dyed your hair.

“Do you trust me?”

Well, you can’t argue with that.

Oh and if anyone tries to come for you about your hair, you bet Kiri will shut that down real quick. He’s not taking shit from anyone, especially when it comes to you.

Kiri loves to leave you little notes every morning with positive quotes like “Remember to smile!” or “You can do it!” They’re cheesy, but it gives you a confidence boost needed to get through the day.

This boy knows more about dealing with one’s self-image than anyone. He will be there for you every step of the way. If you need to rant, he will listen. If you need to cry, he’ll offer his shoulder. If you need encouragement, he’ll whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you believe it.

He’ll play with your hair and you let him style your hair for fun with gel until it's spiky like his.

It makes you realize that it’s only hair and it’ll grow back. May as well have some good laughs so you have a fun story to tell later in life 😊

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worldwidemochiguy · 4 years

Text

Yandere! bts reactions — You’re scared of a bug

Namjoon

“Namjoon-oppa!”

Namjoon glanced up at you from the file he was perusing to see your eyes blown wide with fear.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He asked, already standing up.

“There’s a bug under a cup in the kitchen… can you get rid of it? Please?” Namjoon smirked at your desperate tone.

“Of course I will, darling, but first, let’s negotiate what you will do for me in return.”

“Oppa!” You whined, “Please just get it out of the house! I really hate bugs.”

“If you hate them so much, then surely you’ll be willing to do something to ensure I get rid of them properly.”

“Um… I could… make dinner for us tonight?”

“I’m expecting something a little more than that.”

“…I could give you a ‘thank you’ shoulder massage?”

Namjoon sighed.

“I mean of a sexual nature, darling.”

“Oh!” Your lips formed into a circle as you blushed, and Namjoon was inspired.

“Perhaps you can put those sweet lips of yours-“ he muttered, reaching a finger up to tug your bottom lip downwards, “to use, huh, darling?”

“And you’ll get rid of the bug if I do?” You tried to say, though it was difficult with his finger in your mouth.

“I promise, darling.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, before sinking to your knees. Namjoon smirked. He always got what he wanted in the end.

Jin

“You look so cute like that, jagi.”

You didn’t look at him, tear-filled eyes still fixed on the spider making its way up your blanket. You hadn’t expected much to happen when Jin went to the kitchen to make some more popcorn — after all, what movie night is complete without popcorn? — but you had screamed, bringing him running back into the room when you noticed the spider crawling inexorably towards your face.

You were deeply afraid of spiders. This was one of the first things Jin had learnt about you. He had gallantly offered to get rid of a spider that was on your coat during your first date. You wish he still did those kinds of things.

“Jin, please, please, just get rid of it.” You whispered, prompting Jin to laugh.

“But you look so sweet like this. So scared, it’s adorable. I want to see this face more often.”

You choked on a sob as the spider inched closer to you. It was now less than an inch away.

“Jin, stop being an asshole and just fucking get rid of it!” You yelled suddenly, desperate to get the thing off you. You knew immediately it was the wrong decision when Jin tensed up.

Without another word on his part — the only words spoken by you were frantic apologies and excuses — he strode over and caught the spider in his palm.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, tha-“ Jin stooped your grateful rambling with a sharp glance.

“Now,” he muttered, focusing on the spider in his palms as if he was talking to it. “How shall I use you to punish her for her behaviour?”

You gasped, “No, Jin, please don’t- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- Jin please just take it away, please.”

Jin only looked at you and smiled.

Yoongi

You knew flies probably weren’t capable of emotion, but that didn’t stop the fruit fly trapped in the upside down transparent cup you imprisoned it in giving you a baleful glance.

So what? You didn’t like bugs, it wasn’t not a big deal. You just wanted it out of the house.

You strolled into Yoongi’s office where he was deeply focused on his work, headphones covering his ears.

“Babe!” You shouted, but you might as well have said, “I want a divorce!” Because your husband wouldn’t have heard you either way.

Sighing exasperatedly, you moved to the wall and yanked out the power cable connected to his computer. The screen winked off and you watched Yoongi panic for a second, making you feel a bit guilty, before his eyes followed the now-lax power cable and found you standing sheepishly at the end of it.

“What?” He snarled, yanking off his headphones.

“I… uh, there’s a bug. In the kitchen. Under a cup.” With each halting sentence, his glare became more withering. “Could you get rid of it, please?”

He growled, but did get up, stalking towards you and yanking the power cable out of your hand and plugging it back in.

“Since you asked so nicely, I will, but afterwards, I’m coming back here to punish you for disturbing me. Got that, babe?”

Hoseok

“Aish, sunshine, you’re so cute!”

“Hoseok! Please just get it out of- ah it’s coming for me again!” You squealed, hiding behind Hoseok’s body as the moth attempted another dive-bomb. Your boyfriend was hardly suitable cover, given how hard he was laughing.

“I really hate moths! Please just get rid of it.” You whimpered, plastering yourself against Hoseok’s back and he took pity on you, turning around so he could encase you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, sunshine, but you’re just so cute like this! But I shouldn’t have laughed, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok- AH!” You screamed as you saw the moth come flying straight for you again, your head made an easy target propped up by Hoseok’s shoulder.

You buried your face in his chest and let out a little sob, ignoring the way his shoulders shook in poorly restrained laughter.

“It’s ok, baby, I have an idea!” Hoseok told you, before reaching out to switch off the light. The only light was now provided by the open window through which the sun spilled into the shadowy room. You were just able to discern the shadow of the moth as it darted out.

“Thank you!” You burst out, before covering your boyfriends face in kisses wherever you could reach. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best boyfriend in the whole world!”

Hoseok accepted your gratitude with a sunny smile and his own kisses in reply to yours.

“It’s ok baby, but honestly I do feel bad for the moth.”

“What? Why? It kept flying at my face, it was definitely evil.” You insisted, and Hoseok’s grin grew until his eyes turned into crinkled crescents.

“He was probably so confused, he was torn between the brightest, most radiant sun to exist… and some random ball of fire in the sky.”

You were worried the moth might come back, for you were pretty certain your cheeks were glowing so intensely as you blushed that they had just become the brightest thing for miles around.

Jimin

You felt a slight itch on your leg. For a while you ignored it, determined to finish the chapter of the book you were engrossed in, but the itching feeling persisted until, finally, you caved and reached down.

But what met your finger was not smooth skin, but something weird and fuzzy. It was predominantly shock that made you scream when you saw the spider on your leg. You had never really been that scared of bugs, but you certainly hadn’t been expecting one to be chilling out on your ankle.

After the brief moment of shock, you shrugged and brushed it off you. However, that was not going to be the only shock you received. You heard a distant crashing, and then thumping footsteps drawing closer and closer, until the door was thrown open.

“Get off her!” Jimin screeched as he burst into the room, dressed in his pyjamas and bathrobe. He looked around frantically, his body sunken into a karate stance, trying to identify the threat, before realising there was none.

“Baby, are you alright? What happened?” He rushed to you, frantically checking all over your body and ignoring your stream of ‘I’m fine, I’m okay, it was nothing.”

He rushed to the window, wrenching it open and leaning out. For one horrible second, you thought he might throw himself out, but he was only looking around to see if your possible assailant had somehow escaped through there.

“Running away like a coward, huh? I’ll get you! You’ll die for even touching her!” Jimin screamed, even as you tugged desperately on his robe, urging him back inside.

“Jimin, Jimin, Jimin,” You repeated over and over, trying to catch his wild gaze, “It’s ok, it was nothing, no one hurt me, I just got scared by a bug! That’s it!”

“T-that’s it?” Jimin paused, seeming uncertain even as you nodded.

After a moment of stillness, he crumpled, pulling you into him so tightly you could barely breathe.

“Ah, baby! Don’t ever do that again! I was so worried about you! Never let me hear you scream like that again, you understand? My heart can’t take it!”

Taehyung

“It’s not funny!” You cried at Taehyung’s phone as he recorded you with it.

“You’re wrong there, baby, it is very funny!” He crowed, almost dropping his phone in another hoot of laughter as you screamed again. The bug had just crawled onto your forehead.

You were deathly afraid of insects, something that Taehyung had never been afraid to tease you about. Even now, with tears streaming down your face and an expression of betrayal, Taehyung was filming you with glee, probably to use for blackmail material or to put in a photo album to cheer him up when he was down.

“Taehyung, please! You’ve filmed me enough, can’t you just — ah! It moved again! — can you please just get it off me!” You sobbed, and Taehyung sighed deeply and pressed the hand that wasn’t holding his phone against his heart.

“Hearing you plead like that really is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.” You screamed again, and he smirked. “Apart from your scream, of course.”

“P-please!” You wailed, and it seemed like Taehyung had a change of heart. Still holding up his phone, he moved closer to you and reached up a hand. You felt the bug, which was now inching its way towards your eyebrow, twitch in apprehension.

With one finger, Taehyung reached out and squished the bug against your skin.

“There you go, baby. You’re welcome.”

You screamed again.

“Taehyung! That’s disgusting! I just wanted you to get it off me! Why would you do that?”

“I already told you,” Taehyung smirked, “Your scream is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. I wish I could listen to it all day.”

His laughter chased you as you ran to the bathroom to wash off the mangled remains of bug mashed against your skin.

Jungkook

When Jungkook came home to find you sat on the couch scrolling through Netflix, he was surprised to say the least.

He had texted you to let you know he was going to be stuck at work until the early hours of the morning, and made you promise to go to bed without him so that you would get enough sleep. Now he found you disobeying his orders, but something still puffed up inside him in pleasure, knowing that you didn’t want to go to bed without him.

“I thought I told you to go to bed.” was Jungkook’s greeting. Once you realised he was there — you didn’t see him at first because you were so exhausted — you brightened considerably, getting up from your nest of blankets to hug him. He accepted it, tugging you into his arms for a moment, before pulling back to fix you with a stern glance.

“Princess, you need to get enough sleep.”

“I did try!” You protested, and Jungkook had to stop himself from cooing at your sleepy voice. “There was a fly buzzing around the bedroom and it bothered me so much I had to come out here.”

“A bug was bothering you?” Jungkook glowered, “Not for long, Princess. Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of it for you and then we can go to bed together.”

“My hero!” You giggled, pecking his cheek.

He smiled at you fondly, before advancing to the shut bedroom, a rolled up newspaper as ammunition and a fierce expression on his face. No one messed with his Princess and survived, not even bugs were safe from Jeon Jungkook’s wrath.

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notebooks-and-tea · 2 years

Text

Parse and Evermore: A Ted Talk

Finally posting this incomplete draft in honour of Red (TV) Release Day pls enjoy my rambling :)) [100% currently spending my Law and Econ lecture typing up a Red version of this post because I have no self control]

It’s that time of 2020 when Taylor Swift drops another album (because why not?) and I decide to overanalyse it in an effort to make myself even sadder.

You maybe have seen my previous post of parts of Folklore that gave me KP feels. If you haven’t and you feel like joining me in feeling sad, you can find that here: Parse and Folklore: A Ted Talk.

I may have written that post and then disappeared from Tumblr but I’m back with more potential sadness based entirely on projections and headcanons yay.

Evermore definitely doesn’t scream Parse as much as Folklore did but that’s definitely not gonna stop me and at some point I really wanna go back and do this with her previous albums. But for now, I’m listening to Evermore on repeat and these are some immediate thoughts mostly based on individual lyrics rather than the themes or stories of the songs overall. So gather round kiddos and join me in having emotions about fictional characters!

1) Happiness - literally just Kent coming to terms with him being allowed to be happy after everything that happened with Jack? The slow progression from thinking that Jack was the reason he was happy and realising that it wasn’t a great time for them but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t any happiness then either. I actually don’t have that many coherent thoughts just... Kent Parson x Happiness okay. My problematic fave deserves it and I’ll forever be annoyed with how canon went because that was not that satisfying soz.

Lyrics (damn there are so many):

There'll be happiness after you But there was happiness because of you Both of these things can be true // There’ll be happiness after me But there was happiness because of me Both of these things, I believe

Beyond the terror in the nightfall Haunted by the look in my eyes That would've loved you for a lifetime <-- Don’t try to tell me Kent wasn’t actually in love with Jack or at the very least convinced he was and was willing to stay with him no matter what, even though they’d go to separate teams Tell me, when did your winning smile Begin to look like a smirk? When did all our lessons start to look like weapons Pointed at my deepest hurt? <-- Where did it go wrong and when did all their wholesome teen moments of friendship turn to the anger and spite we end up seeing when Kent turns up at Samwell :( How did it turn to what happens whenever the Falconers play the Aces :(

I hope she'll be your beautiful fool Who takes my spot next to you No, I didn't mean that Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury You haven't met the new me yet <-- Fully just Kent being angry at Jack for how things went wrong, he got cut out from his life and then he goes to visit him at Samwell and sees Bitty who low(high)key looks like a mini-him, but he’s learning and growing and one day he’ll be able to move past it and find his own happiness I can't make it go away by making you a villain I guess it's the price I paid for seven years in Heaven And I pulled your body into mine Every goddamn night, now I get fake niceties No one teaches you what to do When a good man hurts you And you know you hurt him, too <-- Neither of them are the villains in the story, not really. They were just kids and things went wrong and they both got hurt for it but Kent got cut off from his support mechanisms and thrust into the NHL as a kid and no one ever taught him how to deal with the fallout of what happened between them

2) Closure - (we’re ignoring that ‘canon’ interaction between Bitty and Kent for this one because I hate it lol) Ahh don’t think about the the possibility of the actual anger/spite Kent could feel about the situation and everything that happened with Jack. He just got cut out of his life after the overdose, left to deal with the aftermath of watching his boyfriend/best friend nearly die and sent off to a foreign city as basically still a kid and to Jack it apparently didn’t mean as much as it did to Kent. And Kent keeps turning up in Jack’s new life trying to make things go back to normal but Jack just wants to push the past away and move on and have his new life in Samwell and beyond. So I totally hear this and think of Kent feeling so angry about Jack’s false niceties and attempts at ‘closure’ that Kent really doesn’t want. Bonus points if you consider the possibility that Jack never actually spoke with Kent post-rehab and all Kent got is a letter/messaged probably passed on by Bob & Alicia.

Lyrics that stand out to my angsty heart:

It's been a long time And seeing the shape of your name Still spells out pain It wasn't right The way it all went down --> Kent definitely doesn’t get over what happens quickly, probably has a lot of trauma associated with Jack. Eventually he realises that he’s not the one at fault for what happened (maybe in some ways but he was just a kid in a secret relationship doing a stressful sport in a homophobic environment), Jack cutting him out may have been good for Jack’s mental health but it was still unfair on Kent in many ways Yes, I got your letter Yes, I'm doing better It cut deep to know ya Right to the bone Yes, I got your letter Yes, I'm doing better I know that it's over I don't need your "closure" Your "closure" <-- Kent is doing better at this point but there is clearly still trauma there, also you can think about when Kent visits Jack at Samwell and he pushes him away trying to tell Kent that they’re over and it won’t be the same as it was before because that sure hurt me to think about as Taylor sings ‘closure’ :( Don't treat me like some situation that needs to be handled I'm fine with my spite And my tears And my beers and my candles I can feel you smoothing me over <-- I can definitely see Jack as thinking that Kent need to be handled (’I miss you’ ‘you always say that’), also this is so Kent and unhealthy coping mechanisms and anger at the situation and Jack and wanting to hold on to that anger and spite I know I'm just a Wrinkle in your new life Staying "friends" Would iron it out so nice Guilty, guilty reaching out across the sea That you put between you and me But it's fake And it's oh so unnecessary <-- Would Kent trust Jack if an attempt was made to be friends again? Or would he feel unwanted and like it’s all fake and Jack is just trying to make sure he doesn’t cause problems in his new life? I like angst and making myself hurt so you can guess what I think

3) Coney Island - don’t think about Kent wondering what he did to make Jack overdose and cut him out. Don’t think about Kent questioning if he’s to blame for Jack’s anxiety and if he pushed him over the edge and that’s why he cut him out from his life and why they’re no longer even friends. And definitely don’t think about Kent just being alone in Las Vegas wondering whether Jack will ever forgive him or what he’s supposed to do if he doesn’t even know Jack anymore.

Lyrics:

If this is the long haul, How'd we get here so soon? Did I close my fist around something delicate? Did I shatter you?

And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island wondering where did my baby go? The fast times, the bright lights, the merry go Sorry for not making you my centerfold --> I can totally see Kent thinking that he’s too blame for what happened because he didn’t focus enough on Jack and his problems :(

The question pounds my head "What's a lifetime of achievement?" If I pushed you to the edge But you were too polite to leave me --> wondering if going first in the draft and being the Ace’s record book is worth it if him going first meant he lost Jack

Will you forgive my soul When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

4) Marjorie - okay so I probably have some very odd thoughts about this specific song but bare with me. Obviously the connection isn’t *clear* and it doesn’t follow the direct idea of the song, but if we ignore Marjorie being Taylor Swift’s dead grandmother, this song makes me think of KP in two ways. So fun fun fun double the angst double the fun. Basically just think of this song as everything Kent lost right before the draft. If you don’t think about the death as literal you can totally see this being about how when Jack overdosed and cut Kent out of his life, Kent also lost the support mechanism he might have had from Bob and Alicia. So definitely don’t listen to this one and think about Kent thinking of the little bits of wisdom he got from Jack’s parents before he lost them too. And don’t think about Kent thinking about all of the things he should have asked them about but won’t get the chance to anymore not he’s not friends with Jack...And also don’t think about Kent knowing Jack almost died, and even though he didn’t actually die he still left him (but he’s still there haunting him in his head because traumaaaa :( )

Lyrics:

Never be so kind, you forget to be clever Never be so clever, you forget to be kind // Never be so polite, you forget your power Never wield such power, you forget to be polite

And if I didn't know better I'd think you were talking to me now If I didn't know better I'd think you were still around What died didn't stay dead What died didn't stay dead You're alive, you're alive in my head What died didn't stay dead What died didn't stay dead You're alive, so alive I should've asked you questions I should've asked you how to be Asked you to write it down for me Should've kept every grocery store receipt 'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me <-- thinking about all the things he should’ve done and held onto because he lost so much after they fell apart

5) ‘tis the damn season - yikes. So ignoring the context of the actual song and just think about Kent coming to see Jack and thinking about how much he misses him and if only they could just reignite whatever they had for old times’ sake (because of course Kent still has feelings for him). Just that scene of Kent trying to kiss Jack in Samwell, saying he misses him before Jack pushes him away. And then it’s Kent going back to Vegas, which isn’t really home in his mind because in his mind home is still this ideal he has of Jack and him together and playing their best hockey.

Lyrics:

If I wanted to know Who you were hanging with While I was gone, I would've asked you --> Cue image of Kent insulting Jack’s team because he doesn’t care about Jack’s new life if it doesn’t involve him Just for old times' sake I won't ask you to wait If you don't ask me to stay So I'll go back to LA And the so-called friends who'll write books about me if I ever make it And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm faking And the heart I know I'm breaking is my own To leave the warmest bed I've ever known --> Hi. LA=LV. I’m sad now. Messy as the mud on your truck tires Now I'm missing your smile, hear me out We could just ride around And the road not taken looks real good now And it always leads to you and my hometown It always leads to you and my hometown --> PSA Jack = Parse’s hometown at this point in time

6) Ivy - The actual story of this song doesn’t fit in the slightest but damn do some of the lyrics really hurt me and make me think of Parse being sad about Jack. I can’t stop my brain from making these connections so please feel free to join me in my sadness

Lyrics to particularly think about:

And the old widow goes to the stone every day But I don't, I just sit here and wait Grieving for the living --> Jack didn’t die from his overdose but Kent still had to grieve the loss of his friend/boyfriend and probably his whole support mechanism I'd live and die for moments that we stole On begged and borrowed time --> Why do lyrics about infidelity always end up making me sad about Parse and Jack and their secret relationship in the Q, living on borrowed time knowing that it has an ending and everything will be over as soon as the draft happens?

7) Tolerate it - hello, for this song I like to cry thinking about Jack telling Bitty that his ‘thing’ with Kent didn’t actually mean anything when Kent 100% thought it meant so much until it apparently didn’t and that’s just it. The song is Kent loving Jack and Jack just tolerating him and that love instead of celebrating it. :( Perspective is everything so even though Jack might not legitimately feel this way, my headcanon Kent’s feelings are still valid.

Lyrics:

I sit and watch you reading with your head low I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do If it's all in my head tell me now Tell me I've got it wrong somehow I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it I take your indiscretions all in good fun --> my mind just goes to Jack being self-destructive because of his anxiety and all the pressure going on in the Q and Kent thinking it’s all just him having fun and blowing off some steam (obvs I know that’s not what indiscretions refers to in the song) While you were out building other worlds, where was I? Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? I made you my temple, my mural, my sky Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life Drawing hearts in the byline Always taking up too much space or time You assume I'm fine But what would you do if I Break free and leave us in ruins Took this dagger in me and removed it Gain the weight of you then lose it Believe me, I could do it If it's all in my head tell me now Tell me I've got it wrong somehow I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it I sit and watch you -> -> just this whole goddamn bridge section excuse me how dare Miss Swift do this to me? Yeah so Jack goes and builds a whole new life for himself, turning over a new leaf and getting better which is very good for him but very sad for one Mr Kent Parson who just wants to be in Kent’s life. And ofc Jack assumes that Kent is perfectly fine because he went first in the draft and is playing in the NHL and doing well and living their dream even though that doesn’t mean he’s fine at all...

8) Dorothea - It’s Kent’s POV and Jack = Dorothea except Jack didn’t go and leave town to chase his dreams, he left Kent and their shared dreams to go to Samwell and cut him out of his life. But it’s not too late to join him in the NHL and they can be the dream team again...

Lyrics:

You got shiny friends since you left town A tiny screen's the only place I see you now And I got nothing but well wishes for ya It's never too late To come back to my side The stars in your eyes Shined brighter in Tupelo And if you're ever tired of being known For who you know You know, you'll always know me -> Kent was the first person to see Jack as Jack and not his father’s son and you can try and pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands 9) Champagne Problems - not me thinking specifically about this idiom and how Kent would consider his very real mental health issues as just champagne problems and would also probably think the correct way to deal with his issues is to drink them away... But yeah it’s just a lot of Kent thinking he hurt Jack and that he’s the one at fault for what went wrong and just thinking on how one day Jack will find someone new who will help him with all the issues that were caused by Kent being a part of his life (yo me projecting so many angsty headcanons onto KP, this version of Kent really needs a hug)

Lyrics:

You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse Champagne problems Your heart was glass, I dropped it Dom Perignon, you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke "well, it's made for me" how Evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through One for the money, two for the show I never was ready, so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer Till someone's on their knees and asks you "She would've made such a lovely bride What a shame she's fucked in the head", they said But you'll find the real thing instead She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred You won't remember all my Champagne problems

#taylor swift #omgcheckplease #check please #omgcp #kent parson #parsepositive #kent parson angst #i love my problematic son #and i will not apologise for it #yes i want to do this for every album #bringing this back #finally finishing a post i drafted a year ago #gotta do this in honour of red (tv) release day #someone pls join me in crying and overthinking lyrics

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ragnarachael · 4 years

Text

Battle Of Wit

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Word Count: 3,053

Summary: Stephen realizes after your most recent battle that he can't lose you, no matter the circumstance. He's just... terrible at expressing his feelings properly.

Author’s Ramblings: thank the single cup of coffee i drank that drove me this fucking wild to write all of this at 3 am the other day,, i really owe it to u Folgers Coffee (and lest we forget the OBCR album of Natasha, Pierre, and The Great Comet of 1812 for being there for me to scream)

Warnings: kinda angsty at the beginning,, but then soft!!! you just gotta push through the fighting!!

MASTERLIST ! FEEDBACK ! AO3 LINK

“I had it under control—”

“No, you didn’t, actually,” Stephen seethed, cutting you off smoothly as he opened a portal that led into one of the Sanctum’s rooms that was designated to hold the Eye of Agamotto. “You didn’t have anything under control.”

You scoffed as you walked through the static ring, Stephen soon following after you before the portal snapped shut. He was quick to send his cloak flying off his shoulders to the door that was open leading into the New York Sanctum, walking ahead of you to properly place the Eye where it belonged.

So what, you’d gotten in on his fight? Sure you ended up with a few scratches and bruises, but you won, didn’t you?

“I think you’ll find I did, Stephen. Who was the one who was out of commission because they were helping Wong?”

You knew it was a low blow, but you’re trying to make a point here.

Stephen turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, letting his gaze zero in on your form. “I had it. I just had to get Wong to help with a—”

“You can make all the excuses you want!” You exclaimed, holding your arms out in exasperation. “You just don’t want to admit that I helped you out.”

You watched Stephen tense up as he turned his head back to the task he had in front of him. The Eye was officially off of his body and in his hands, held in mid-air as he stopped placing it on it’s small podium to hear you speak.

“Me, someone with mediocre skills in the Mystic Arts but exceptional skill with defeating arrogant, asshole doctor’s who don’t seem to know how to admit they need help.”

The laugh that Stephen was emitting made your stomach twist with fear, but you stood your ground. Your words and his laughter lingered between you two for a long time as he took his time placing the Eye on it's small podium. You tried to brace yourself for what was to come.

You knew what you did was stupid. You've understood that at this point, having the guilt start to claw its way up to your throat to take back what you said. But you had to keep reminding yourself that you were also right. Yes, you were running on pure adrenaline when you finished the fight—which you didn't expect to do. Your hand is still pulsating with pain from the final blow for chrissakes! You're shocked you even put some of your fighting to use—

"If I needed help out there," Stephen started lowly, finally turning to face you completely. His jaw was clenched tightly due to his rising anger, you assumed. He looked... terrifying in this moment. You know you shouldn't feel this way about your significant other ever in a relationship - but this wasn't a normal relationship. "I would have asked."

His voice was almost like cleaning your wounds. Painful, stinging pain that made you flinch the second it touched the open skin. Almost like you were grinding salt into it.

Stephen wasn't happy. Not at all.

"Really? You would have?" You questioned rhetorically. "Because out there, just 20 minutes ago, you didn't."

"Because I needed Wong to do the spell to finish Doom off!" Stephen shouted. You couldn't help but take few steps back, squaring your shoulders as you took a deep breath. Stephen watched you closely as you stopped to breathe before he just let out a harsh sigh and let his hands run through his hair.

His hands stopped shy of the top of his head to tug at the roots slightly.

"I needed Wong for the spell. I had to step away, that's why I knocked him down. Then you—" Stephen pointed at you accusingly while his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose "—you came in and beat him to a pulp! I'm not saying that I wasn't grateful, as a matter of fact, it was amazing. But you can't just do that!"

"And why not?" You shot back, your own voice starting to rise in volume. "Why can't I? I was saving your ass. Do you want me to just let you get killed?!"

"No, but—"

"He had already blocked your powers once in the fight, Stephen," you seethed, keeping your hands balled tightly at your sides. "What could you have done then?"

You watched Stephen try to find the words to reply before you held your hand up in front of your neck, making a sort of cutting motion in front of it, "nothing. Not even your hands would be able to help you then. I don't even know what Wong's capable of, but we both know he was out of commission after Doom hypnotized him. I was the last resort. I was the one who had to do something to be sure we all didn't end up fucking dead in the Mirror Dimension!"

Your throat ached once you were finished shouting, overworked easily from the emotion that's been bubbling inside of you since you stepped foot in the Sanctum. The tension was thick enough between the two of you to cut it with a knife. You hated these moments with Stephen. You truly did, but the idea of Stephen dying in the hands of Victor von Doom was enough nightmare fuel to keep you up for a few nights for sure. You didn't need to question that.

Taking in a deep breath you tried to calm down the stinging in your eyes, tears threatening to spill over your waterline.

"If you're going to blame me for saving you, then fine. Whatever. But do not think for a second—" you stopped momentarily to try and steady your voice, swallowing thrice before continuing "—that I'd just sit in the sidelines and let you and our friend die."

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, ignoring the searing pain from your wounds you'd sustained from the fight as your face contorted. Stephen wasn't even looking at you now. He was looking at the ground, jaw still clenched. It was like he was thinking. He reminded you of a character in a video game who has been left idle while the player went out of the room to get something. Regardless, you knew you somehow got through to him. If Wong weren't back at Kamar-Taj getting taken care of after being taken over by Doom's power, he would be on your side. You knew he would, because he wasn't as stubborn as your lover. He knew when to admit defeat, and wouldn't be determined to do it himself.

"You're not alone, Stephen," you started slowly, gently. A few careful steps towards him made you realize that his anger had dissipated a substantial amount. "You can ask for help. I would be there in a heartbeat."

Stephen all but twitched when you finally decided it was okay to place a gentle hand on his forearm that had the fabric of his robes clinging to him.

It was in this moment you realized that the battle was one of the hardest the three of you had attempted to date. None of you had been prepared for Victor von Doom in the slightest. You were flying blind for the most part. Hell, Stephen and Wong didn't even know about Doom's ability to successfully perform mind transference until it happened.

"You.. You..." Trying to find the words you were wanting to say started to become hard. You were quiet for a while after you said that, trying to pick apart your brain to actually speak. "You can pass the weight of the world on your shoulders to me. To Wong. We've both signed up for this Mystic Arts gig just like you."

Stephen stayed silent. You didn't blame him. Now that your anger has dissipated, you really dug into him and the guilt that was absent from your throat had returned in full force.

Regret, you realized. That's what you were feeling. Stephen was a capable sorcerer. He was so goddamn smart, he knew what he was doing. Well, for the most part. You do think what you had done was necessary in the end still, since Doom was already getting back up on his feet as Stephen tried to see how to help Wong.

But everything you'd said definitely felt as if you were belittling Stephen.

You let out a wet laugh, the tears you were holding finally making it past your waterline dreadfully fast. You were just as quick to sniffle and wipe the tears with the heel of your hand, reminding yourself to breathe.

"Could you say something, maybe? I... I feel like I've been talking to a brick wall for the past few minutes, honey."

The nickname is what pulled Stephen out of his... whatever it was. His eyes looked how they usually did when he started crying—glassy, red-rimmed and swollen with tears that had been rolling down his cheeks freely.

You've seen Stephen like this few times in your relationship. And in this moment? You thought it was because of you. Your words you used in the heat of the fight, cutting the man you loved—which you have never openly admitted—deep enough to make tears pull from his tear ducts and roll down his beaten and bruised face.

As if he wasn't hurt enough after this fight.

"S-Stephen I—"

"I love you."

You stopped dead in your tracks. You were about to apologize for most of the things you said, maybe even cry yourself. But.. he just said those three little words that you'd both been toeing around since last month.

It felt like your heart stopped. Then exploded. And then stopped again before slamming hard against your chest. "You.. You what?"

"I," Stephen started again shakily, his hands moving to cup your cheeks in his shaking hands, "love you."

Your heartbeat continued pounding in your ears.

"W-Wait," you cleared your throat and let your hand that was on his forearm fall, carefully tilting your head up to finally make eye contact. "This isn't a joke, right? You're not... You're not just saying this because you and I just had some kind of-of.. of a fight?"

Stephen sniffled quietly then, shaking thumbs swiping at the tears that were still descending down your face gently - almost as if he were handling glass. "I'm serious."

"You love me?" You asked softly. Quietly, filled with all of the emotion you'd held back just mere minutes ago to stand your ground. Stephen was never one to mix work and play—and you thought this was no exception.

"Yes." Stephen's watery laugh filled your ears then. "I love you. That's—That's why I was angry. You.. You risked your life for me and Wong today. It made me realize how easy it could be to lose you. And I don't want that to happen; I never want to lose you."

If this were a normal conversation—between a man and a woman who have been together for a year and a few months—you wouldn't be giggling like an idiot with your vision being clouded with tears. Okay, maybe you would. It just seemed inappropriate to giggle in this moment. You were giggling. Stephen Strange just admitted he loves you. After you've just yelled at him after a battle that rendered one of your friends back in the hands of the healers back at Kamar-Taj.

And he said he loves you.

"You are such an—"

"I know, I know," Stephen said quickly, cutting you off with a dull chuckle as he leaned forwards to press his forehead gently to your own, not caring about the cut on his skin. "I'm an idiot. Your idiot, however."

You let your shoulders droop, finally relieving them from the tension you were still carrying. One of your hands easily cupped Stephen's while the other slowly wrapped around his wrist, trying to get your emotions together to properly respond to your boyfriend's confession.

"You are." You knew your face contorted into a fond look as you squeezed his wrist gently. He huffed out a laugh as the blanket of silence enveloped you comfortably unlike earlier.

"Aren't you gonna say you love me back?" Stephen teased quietly, his eyes flicking down to look at your lips. You snorted and let your eyes fall shut as you leaned some of your weight against him.

"Well—"

"Oh god, here we go," Stephen quipped.

"Hey! I'm trying to pull a I know on you here," you complained playfully, snapping your eyes open to glare at Stephen.

"Sweetheart, as much as I love you, I don't think you'd pull a Leia on me."

You jutted your bottom lip out into a pout, your brows slowly scrunching up as you did so which caused your forehead to bump into Stephen's. He was quick to hiss, pulling his head back from your own to bring a hand up to hover over where his cut was. Your hands were quick to fall from their spots.

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" You exclaimed, laughter trying to cut through your words. "I-I didn't think I would hit it!"

Stephen couldn't help but start laughing with you, trying to hold you back slightly before you went all "doctor mode" on him as you usually would after missions like these. "You're fine! It's fine."

Eventually, your laughter died down into gentle wheezing before you forced your way into Stephen's arms, now cupping his face in your hands to mainly inspect the damage on his face. He had the cut on his forehead that was surrounded with bumps and bruises, as well as a few little scrapes. You sighed gently.

"What am I going to do with you, Stephen?"

Stephen didn't hesitate to let his hands wrap around your waist slowly, as if to test the waters, letting out a hum. "I can think of a few things."

You rolled your eyes then, letting your hands clasp together behind his head to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer once more. You wanted a kiss more than anything at this point, even if you had a bit of a cut lip. A kiss from the man that loved you.

"Stop it. If you think anything R-rated is happening between us tonight, you're dead wrong," you admonished. "We've both got injuries, Stephen."

"C'mon," Stephen urged gently, his hands sliding to flatten at your sides, squeezing your curves under his fingertips, "you've never turned down the shower stuff before."

"Well then today's the day I'm turning it down. Because I'd rather hurt now rather than later."

The face Stephen pulled would have made you laugh if you weren't looking at him so fondly, your mind reeling back to what he said what felt like seconds ago. Those three little words he said were replaying in your head again. Your heart skipped a beat by how giddy you were becoming just by the mere thought of Stephen saying those words to you. It hadn't occurred to you that you were zoned out completely then, Stephen gently saying your name as he shook you a little.

You were quick to blink a bit, letting a smile bloom on your face before you let go of your hands to slide them to his shoulders.

"Say it again," you demanded softly, letting your nails dig into the fabric under your fingertips. "Please."

Stephen definitely didn't get what you meant until your eyes moved from looking up into his own, to looking at his lips. You were thankful he decided to grant your wish when he gently said your name, easily pressing the length of his body against yours.

"I love you."

"I love you too," you replied immediately, your whole heart basically evacuating your body through your words. You loved him. Stephen Strange. The Master of The Mystic Arts. Who ever this man was before, and whoever this man was now, you loved him. That much was evident to the both of you in this moment.

Stephen took a moment to mutter something under his breath before he leaned forward and captured your lips in a searing kiss. As intense as the kiss was, his lips were soft against your own, despite the fact that yours were most definitely weathered from the battle. One of his hands found their spot back on your cheek as Stephen tilted his head to deepen the kiss in the moment before started to pull away to giggle again.

"What?" Stephen questioned quietly. You just shrugged as you kept your eyes shut, feeling Stephen's gaze trail over your face.

"My lips probably feel terrible to you—"

Stephen groaned playfully then, holding back a chuckle. "You need to stop with these one liners when we're having a moment, sweetheart."

"You love me for it!" You exclaimed, opening your eyes now to finally catch the fond look Stephen was giving you.

"I do."

"Does this mean we can get patched up now? As attractive as you look all beaten and... rugged, you should really get cleaned up before something gets infected," you explained, pulling back until Stephen's arms stopped you, gesturing to his whole get up. "I don't need you getting sick again on me."

"Fine. As long as you're the one patching me up, I don't care," Stephen sighed dramatically, letting you go but making sure to grab your hand with his own gently. You grinned at the fact that you didn't have to try and push the offer to him any more than you already did.

You were quick to get up to his height momentarily, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before starting to lead him to the open door that led you two home. In the back of your mind, you knew you would have to have a more adult conversation about earlier once the two of you have rested and cleaned up a bit later in the evening. This wasn't just something you could ignore easily after a heartfelt confession. But you weren't as afraid as you were when the argument started.

Because he loved you. That's all you needed to remember as you headed into this new stage of your relationship with Stephen Strange.

#stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange imagine #doctor strange imagine #stephen strange #doctor strange #marvel fanfiction #stephen strange fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel writer #mcu imagine #marvel angst #rachael writes

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calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

Stuck In My Head

Summary: Anon request- Idk if you've written anything about the quarantine yet? Idk if you feel comfortable right because weird topic. But I feel like Cal has been posting a lot about his mental health during this and it might be cool to explore like living along side him dealing with your own (this was the worst worded request I've ever submitted I'm sorry)

A/N: If you’re struggling, please reach out. I think it’s easy to feel alone, especially now. But please don’t listen to the voice in your head. You are not alone. And you are not bothering anyone. In fact, hearing from you makes our day.

Content: Mental health awareness.

Word Count: 1.4k

And away, and away we go!

Melody stared blankly at the television screen. The words “Stay at home order” should have hit deeper. But all she could think about was that it was a good idea Calum had run out to the store.

“Geez it’s like a zoo out there,” Calum announced while the women continued to stare blankly as Governor Newsom continued his speech about his plans for California during these “troubling times.”

“Uh… Mel? Little help?” Calum asked, snapping his roommate out of her daze.

“Shit, sorry,” she apologized, rushing over to help him with the groceries.

“The news say anything?”

“Stay at home order. God knows for how long.”

“Shit, no wonder the stores were all packed.”

“Yeah. How’s this gonna work for your album next week?”

“Fuck…” The question was enough to stop his actions of unpacking the shopping bags. “Fuck..” he repeated. “We’ll figure something out. Probably last minute, but we’ll figure it out. What does this mean for you? You had that photoshoot planned, didn’t you?��

Melody nodded as they put the last of the groceries away. “Yeah, I’ll have to call my agency, and see what’s going on with that.”

“Well don’t stress too much about it,” Calum told her. “I mean, I know you. I know you’re gonna stress about it. But try not to do it too much.”

Melody rolled her eyes. “Yeah I’ll try not to be too torn up over how now sitting on ass is a contribution to society. Every introvert's dream come true.”

Calum chuckled. “I’m just sayin’. If you need me, I’m here. Same as always.”

~~~

Again, Melody was staring blankly at the television screen. The noise was soothing even though she couldn’t focus on the show. She hadn’t been able to focus on much in the last month since quarantine hit. Her job was on hiatus until further notice, and while there was plenty for her to do around the house, she couldn’t bring herself to enjoy it the way she once had.

During the first week she had tried to settle into a routine to keep some semblance of normalcy. But as the days dragged by, time became almost irrelevant. Most nights were spent staring up at her ceiling, watching the fan spin in circles. It took effort to drag herself out of bed before noon. Still, she fought to go through the motions. But it was hard when there was no real reason to. While logically she knew she could get in her car and go visit her friends the way Calum had done with Michael, the excuse of not was heavier than her want. What was there to talk about that couldn’t be said through text anyway? She wanted to see her friends so she could go out with them. But there was nowhere to go out to. And it wasn’t like she didn’t have company because Calum was stuck at home just like she was.

Calum, she was beginning to realize, was the only reason she was bothering putting herself through the paces. She might be sleeping late and wandering around with a blank expression, but at least she was showering, wearing clothes other than sweats, and eating. So she supposed she could be doing a whole lot worse.

But Calum had been right. With the world quiet, there was nothing to drown out the screaming in her mind. Her thoughts swirled angrily in her head and the only relief came through sleep, which of course had been evading her. She had always dealt with insomnia, but having no real routine made it that much worse. She could be on the verge of falling asleep, but it was like the second her head hit the pillow and she finally closed her eyes, she found her energy. Only it wasn’t energy to do anything besides stay awake. Awake and listening to the thoughts.

~~~

Melody watched as the ceiling fan spun around in a hypnotizing circle, jealous that it was moving, unlike her. It had been almost ten weeks now and she was just as lost as she had been when this started. Logically she knew there was nothing for her to worry about. Calum and her were healthy. They all had more money than they knew what to do with. Groceries and other things were being shipped to their doorstep. There was nothing actually wrong. But no amount of talking on the phone with her family and friends, or taking Duke out for small walks around the neighborhood with Calum was enough to shake the feeling of emptiness. Like everything was pause, but it was only on pause for her. Her roommate had managed to stay plenty busy with his music in spite of everything coming to a complete standstill. And while she knew that had nothing to do with her, she couldn’t stop the comparison no matter how hard she tried.

If you need me, I’m here. Same as always.

“Even at… 2:47 am, Cal?” she whispered in the dark as she climbed out of bed.

She paused outside of his bedroom door, debating. It was late. He was probably fast asleep. She should probably just go back to her own room and try again to fall asleep. “Cal?” she asked, her voice low as she entered the dark bedroom. “Cal, are you awake?”

She heard the jingle of Duke’s collar as the dog woke up to readjust himself on the bed. Calum’s arm moved out from under the covers, patting around beside him. “Duke, go back to sleep,” he grumbled, still more or less fully asleep.

“Cal, it’s me,” Melody told him, moving further into the bedroom.

“Mel,” Calum acknowledged as he yawned. “Just Mel, Duke.”

“Cal, scooch over,” she directed as she swallowed her hesitation and edged herself onto his bed.

“Mel, shh. I’m sleepin’,” Calum scolded lightly, but he rolled over in his sleep, allowing her to curl up next to him.

“Keep sleeping, then,” she whispered at him.

Again, he rolled over in his sleep, his arm falling across her. He startled awake, not expecting to find a body there. “Fuck, Mel! Way to give a guy a heart attack! What are you doing in here? Some watchdog you are, Duke…” His voice lost the heaviness of sleep as he worked himself awake with his rambling.

Melody stared up at Calum’s ceiling, watching the fan make its rounds, feeling stupider by the second.

“Mel?” Calum prompted after a good minute or two of silence. “Everything okay?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“Mmm, so bothering me seemed like a good idea?”

Melody rolled her eyes and pushed into his shoulder, his chuckle a deep rumble. “You said you were here if I needed you, yeah?”

“Course.”

“Well I need you.”

He shifted in bed to sit up against the headboard, draping an arm across her shoulder. “Took you long enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, leaning against his shoulder.

“You were going off the deep end before this started.”

“And you didn’t think to say anything?”

He shrugged. “If I approached you, you would get defensive, and retreat further inside yourself.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“So what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Feeling like a failure. Like no matter how fast I move towards my future, I still feel like I’m getting left behind somehow. Like what I'm doing doesn’t measure up to what other people my age are doing.”

“And with the world at a standstill, you don’t have the noise to silence that voice.”

“Exactly. I mean, I’m cooped up in here for days on end. With nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. And as much as I know that voice is wrong, there’s nothing to dispute it. And it feels weird to complain that I feel useless and helpless when I know that there are people out there who are actually struggling. People who can’t make ends meet even when they did have jobs to go to.”

“Okay, but that’s not how pain works. You’re allowed to hurt, too.”

“But I don’t want to hurt, Cal. That's the whole problem. I don’t want to feel like this.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“I don’t know. This maybe? To be held by someone I know cares about me.”

“Touch-starved?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Well, good. So am I.” He shifted one last time to lay down on his side, pulling Melody’s back to his chest. “Do you mind?”

“No, not at all. This is…” her voice choked around the words, cutting off her sentence.

Calum’s chin rubbed in her hair as he nodded. “I know. I got you, and you got me, right?”

“Always, Cal, always.”

Tag List

@frontmanash @goeatsomelife @flameraine @here-for-the-uproars @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @sparkling-calm @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short @aquarius-hood1996 @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @philthepegacorn @boomerash

#stuck in my head #calum hood fic #calum hood #5sos #galcal irwin

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 5 years

Text

Happier

*gif not mine*

You can read part I here!

The sun was getting brighter and the air was getting warmer.

The air was more crisped and it felt like you could breathe again.

And you were happy.

It was always going to be a great day when nature decides to have great weather. Especially when it’s been gloomy and depressing. The weather resembled your mood. At least, London weather. You’ve been in some mood for most of the year, and the weather didn’t help whatsoever. You were cooped up in your bed with a blanket wrapped around your head, only making your face visible. Ever since that night, you’ve just been sad. You were sad because it was over. You were sad because you pushed away the only good thing in your life, and you couldn’t be more pissed with yourself. But you learned that it was for the best and that it needed to happen so you could move forward with yourself. You’ve learned to take responsibility for yourself and making yourself a priority.

And overall, you were content.

It wasn’t an easy process. It was definitely one of the hardest things to do. It took some time, but you feel like you’ve made huge progress. And for that you were content.

You weren’t fully happy. You knew something was missing, and that something or someone was the love of your life who had curly hair that is mostly wavy now, and a smile that makes you weak in the knees. You were missing Harry Styles.

You’ve felt on top of the world about him; like you were on a cloud. But you felt your lowest and below the ground about yourself.

It’s been quite a long time since you’ve seen him. 5 months can do a lot to a couple and people in general. You haven’t spoke to him nor seen him, and you hope he’s doing okay. What you have seen were pictures from fans or paps, when he was out and about. He looks so good, you would think. But he always looks so good.

You’ve missed him. A lot. When he left and closed the door, you were a mess. Sobbing violently and screaming at the universe. But you knew it had to be done.

Harry, on the other hand, made sure to get home safely before he could break down and cry. He slammed his front door shut, leaned against the wall before he loses his balance, and sobbed into his hands.

Both were a mess.

But a month later, you started trying. You started trying to love yourself; to take care of yourself. It was weird to do at first, but you started with writing in your journal. You jotting down things you admire about yourself and the things you didn’t, which you later worked on.

The second month, you wanted to change your wardrobe into something that makes you feel beautiful—sexy, even. So you went shopping, by yourself, and picked out many outfits to step up your style. Your style went from casual and safe to classy and chic. You were happy with the way your clothing played out.

The third month, you changed your diet and started working out. You didn’t feel good on the inside nor did you on the outside. So you started prepping your meals and you got a gym membership. It made you feel strong physically and mentally. It made you feel so much better mentally knowing that you’re putting good things in your body.

The fourth month, you decided you wanted a change. So what better way to do that is to get a haircut. Your hair was getting long anyway; practically to your hips. You decided to be bold and cut it to your shoulders. You were happy with it.

The fifth month, you wanted to go on vacation. You and Harry used to go on little getaways from time to time, and they were your favorite. You loved to explore, especially with Harry. You loved finding new food and learn more about the culture. So, you booked a vacation to Cuba. You’ve always wanted to go; your cousin telling you that it was absolutely beautiful and the culture is amazing.

You stroll through the city of Havana, passing by the colorful architecture Cuba has to offer. It feels like you’re at peace and you feel so content. You love going to different places because nobody knows you. There would be rare occasions where someone would walk up to you or recognize you, but they were rare and would only happen when Harry was with you. You were able to walk freely and you loved it.

You sit outside of a restaurant, people watching and writing in your journal. You’ve become accustomed to the fact that you have to write in a journal. You’ve come to the fact that you love it. It’s a nice mental break from the world with the only relationship between the pen and paper. Throughout the months, you learned so much about yourself that you love. The things you dislike about yourself is a work in progress, but you feel yourself getting better every single day.

“Excuse me?” You look up and see a man through your sunglasses. He wasn’t standing directly in front of the sun, making your eyes wince before raising your arm to block the sun.

And there he was. Standing in front of you; wearing light pink shorts, a white tank top, and a white, short-sleeved, button down over. He wore white vans, square sunglasses, and his hair clipped.

Harry took off his sunglasses to get a better look at you, and he couldn’t believe his eyes. He knew it was you, but it’s been so long that you’ve changed so much within the five months. And it was a good change.

“Hi.” He said nervously.

“Hi… Harry.”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” His index and thumb get a hold of his lips as he pinches the skin between his fingers; something you would always admire him doing.

“It has. W-Would you like to sit?” You offered.

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Harry, it’s me. You’re not imposing.” Harry gets flashbacks to when you said that five months ago when he wanted to leave, but you insisted he stay for one more night.

He nods and takes a seat across from you. You both don’t say anything, still trying to process that this is the first time you two are in each other’s presence for several months. It’s surreal, but he’s happy to be sitting in front of you.

“How have you been?” He’s genuinely asking, but he’s also curious because you broke up with him to figure yourself out.

“I’ve been… good. Yeah, I’ve been good.” Harry looks at you careful, making sure you’re not bullshitting him. But when you genuinely smile at him, he knows you’re okay.

“That’s great.”

“Yeah.” You smile. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good as well. Just been writing a lot more, but the album… is a work in progress.” He says, trying not to say too much about it because he knows you love waiting until release day to listen to everything as a whole. He thinks you’re a bit weird for it, but respects your wishes anyways.

“That’s amazing, Harry! I’m proud of you.” You say with genuine. Harry smiles with appreciation.

“So, I have to ask… What are you doing here?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Just wanted a vacation. This was next on my list, so here I am. What are you doing here?”

“This was also next on my list.” It suddenly hit you that you and Harry made travel lists together; listing the places you’d want to go and some places were on the same number as the other, which was fortunate. And sure, Harry’s been all over the world and visited so many places, but come to think of it, he’s very truly browsed around. He never really saw the cities and towns. He would see everything from the balcony of his hotel as thousands of fans would wait outside of their hotel.

You nod at him and a waiter comes by to get Harry’s order. Once he’s done, Harry turns back to you, looking you in the eye, and smiling.

“What?”

“You cut your hair.”

“Yeah, I did.” You tuck your hair behind your ear.

“It looks great. You look beautiful.” He gives you a small smile, making his dimple pop out.

“Thank you, Harry.” He raises his eyebrows in amusement. He hasn’t heard you say a genuine thank you, when he would compliment you, for quite a while. You would either just blush and look away or whisper it out. And right then and there, he knows that this break did you good; he could see the progress you’ve made by the way you act and react to certain things. He’s so proud of you, he feels like he could cry.

While you both ate, you both talked about everything you’ve been up to. It didn’t seem like five months went by while talking, and you were glad for that. Harry has always been a great person to talk to, especially when it has to do with things you’re both passionate about. That’s what made you fall in love with him the first place; you admired his passionate side and how he could ramble for hours, even when he’s a quiet person to the outside world.

“Wait, you wore that exact same outfit and matched with Gemma?” Tears stay at the corner of your eye from all the laughing you two have done.

“Yeah! Exactly the same, besides the shoes. But everything was pretty spot on. Here, I have the picture.” He takes out his phone and shows the picture to you, making your heart flutter. You love Gemma. She was super down to earth and such a genuine person. You two have become close since fake dating and dating Harry.

“That is just gold!”

“When I arrived at the restaurant, Mum saw me first, from a distance, and just started busting out laughing. I was so confused until I got to the table.” He chuckles.

“Oh, wow.” You control your breathing from laughing. “How are they doing, by the way?”

“They’re great! Mum is busy with charity for Parkinson’s and Gems’ recently did a podcast regarding mental health, which is great.”

“I’m glad they’re doing well.”

“Yeah… they miss you.” You felt your heart sinking at that moment, and you knew that it was entirely your fault. “I miss you.” He admits.

“Harry-”

“And I know it’s not the best time to say it because you’re working on yourself, which is great! But this is the first time I’m seeing you in five months, and I’ve missed you so much that I couldn’t help-”

“I miss you too.” You interrupt his rambling. “Like, a lot.”

“You do?” He feels a sense of relief when he heard you say the words.

“Of course I do.”

“Well… okay. Thanks, I guess?” You chuckle at his response.

“Harry, I’m sorry for everything I’ve done. It was extremely selfish of me to just abruptly end it the way I did, but I just want you to know that I’m doing better—I am better.” Harry’s face softens.

“Love, you don’t need to apologize, for anything. I understand why you did it, and as much as I hated being apart from you for so many months, I’m glad you did it because I can see change on you. We’ve only been here for an hour and a half, and I can see change. I’m proud of you. Extremely proud of you.” You were definitely holding back tears, not wanting to cry in front of him just yet.

“Thank you, Harry. That means a lot coming from you. It makes me feel relieved to hear you say that because I still think about the way things went, and I thought you somewhat resented me because of it.”

“I could never. You did this for you. You didn’t do this for me or for anyone. All that matters is how you feel and how you look at yourself.” You nod in agreement, coming to terms that that’s truly all that mattered. No one else mattered. They can define and judge you all they want, but if you don’t feel that way about yourself, then that’s all that matters.

“The main reason that caused this was, not only was I insecure from the beginning, but because I’ve read stuff online and I let people get to me. I know you always told me to not look into it, but you know me, I can’t help it. They kept comparing me and calling me names; things that I’m not. Now, I know they’re not true, but then, they hurt. They were...just so mean to me.” Tears have now managed to release themselves from your eyes. Although they weren’t from laughing.

You’ve had a great time with Harry. He’s practically the only person he could make you cry from laughing, but as the tears now are from sadness and frustration, you knew it had to come out. You knew that you two had to talk about it eventually.

Harry reaches for your hand across the table and hold it gently, listening to you talk. “Love, you are a completely different person. You were way different from whatever they said about you, and you’re a different person now.” His thumb caresses the back of your hand, comforting you.

“I agree. I’ve learned now that I’m not the same. I’m much more stronger. I’m still a work in progress, but I’m doing so much better than I was before. I feel so much happier.” Harry smiles, leaning forward before bringing your hand to his mouth as he places soft kisses on it. The feeling of his lips on you makes you smile and giddy.

Happier. It was the word that you was afraid of using, just in case you would ever jinx yourself. But you felt content with yourself. You felt content doing things by yourself that you could finally depend on yourself. But now as you sit in front of Harry, all you can think about is how happy you are. And all you wanted to do was be happy with him.

“I know I’m somewhat on thin glass to ask this, and I understand why you would say no, but I just missed you so much so… do you want to, you know, start over? Maybe? I don’t even know if you still want to be with me-”

“Of course I still want to be with you.” He reassures with a smile.

“Okay, good. So, what do you say?” Wanting to hear him say it.

“Hi, I’m Harry Styles.” He reaches across the table for a hand shake.

“You dork.” You laugh.

“Can I kiss you now? Been waiting to do it for ages.” And you’ve been waiting for it too.

“Sorry, I don’t kiss people I just meet.” You tease, which makes him laugh.

“As much as that’s a relief to hear, just shut up and kiss me.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #1dff #one direction #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles writing

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foolurfriendsfunatparties · 4 years

Note

U m Dewey x reader with an artistic/art teacher reader?? Am i projecting? A little

Thank you for ending my boredom! Please feel free to like and reblog, I also really get a kick out of feedback! I insist even if you want to tell how trashy this is!

One artsy reader coming up!

Also I doubt anyone wants to know but swiss posters are a very cool form of artwork!

Horace green was a real step up from public schools. Every extracurricular activity was chosen with care and the instructors for each subject were chosen with care. It had been a very long hard battle for you to get this job. There were so many good artists that you thought would be more qualified but lucky you! Miss Mullins loved how well you were with not only the children but the parents.

"Okay everyone, your unfinished swiss posters are up in front. Grab your things and you may get started!" The children all grabbed their own masterpieces as they went back to their chairs. You couldn't believe how fast they had progressed with their artwork. Most of the time you would sit at your desk drawing in your sketchbook, answering questions, or just walking around the room watching the kids go at their art.

"Excuse me L/N." Summer had her hand held up high as you made your way over to the very intellectual little girl.

"Yes Summer?" You squatted down to her level as she made eye contact with Zach who was sitting next to her drawing a guitar. "Our substitute wanted us to get to class early and I was wondering if we could leave 10 to 15 minutes early?" The girl pleaded with you as you tries to hold back a chuckle.

"Well I'm not sure, Miss Mullins wouldn't be too pleased to hear about this." You were in a predicament as you paced back and forth in your mind. Contemplating the idea you found a way to both satisfy your students and your boss. "How about this I will let you all go 15 minutes early," the kids began to grow excited. "Only if you let me take you to Mr. Schneebly." The kids grew silent as they looked to each other.

"Will you give us a moment?" Summer said as you giggled.

"Of course Summer take your time!" You beamed as she grabbed Katie and Zach and pulled them to a secluded corner. After about 3 minutes of discussing and debating the three came back.

"You've got yourself a deal." Katie said trying to sound intimidating almost like a judge.

"Oh do I?!" You said humored by the children. "Well I will look forward to it then!" To be honest you have heard about this new teacher but you've never seen him. There were about 30 minutes left until the kids could go to class early which in general was a weird thing for children to be excited about.

"Okay everyone let's head to your class." You said closing the sketchbook looking up to see everyone already packed up and ready to go. Going through the halls quietly you found the room. Opening the door you walked in to see a bunch of music equipment and the back Schneebly as he was setting the equipment up.

"Okay who's ready to ro-" The man turned around to see you as his eyes widened. "READ! Read yes read, because I'm a teacher and teachers, teach." The man was rambling as you took in the surroundings. It was almost a second before the teacher had realized he had never seen you before. "Oh uh I'm de-Ned! Need Schneebly!" He held out his hand.

"Y/N L/N!" You returned the shake. "I'll just be out of the way. I'll see you all tomorrow!" You said heading towards the door. "Have a fun time 'reading'." You shot a wink at the teacher as he gave you a smug look. Dewey released a breath he didn't know he was holding as the students did their normal routine.

"Okay that teacher just earned my respect." Dewey already knew he was going to get into even more trouble with you. Not only were you not too bad to look at you were totally cool with his music addiction. A perfect vision to him, and art! It was meant to be in his mind, and if there's anything rock and roll is about it's scoring chicks.

You sat at your desk looking through the artwork of the students and giving them scores based on the criteria of the assignment as you heard a knock at your door. "It's opened!" You shouted as Mr. Schneebly came through the floor. "Oh hello Mr. Schneebly." You said getting up as he closed the door.

"You can call me Ned!" He said as you smiled lightly at him.

"You can call me Y/N then, nice tradeoff!" You grabbed the stack of papers and headed towards the children's cubbies where you placed their art along with their scoresheet in the respective cubbie. "So what's up?"

"Informal slang." Ned practically moaned in satisfaction. "It's been so long since someone here has been as chill as you." You loved his enthusiasm as he dramatically leaned his head back.

"Well I guess I feel the same way!" Your tone was a mixture of happiness and relieved. "No but really, what do you want." You asked leaning slightly against the nearest table.

"Oh I just wanted to invite you to get some food with me." He had a very homey welcoming smile that was so contagious that you immediately accepted the invitation. He headed towards the door happily as he leaned against the doorway. "I'll meet you there at 7!" He gave you a wink as he left in good timing before noticing the blush creeping up your face. You rushed home in a panic to get ready. Knowing that the roadhouse diner was big place influenced with classic rock you tried to find your best clothes to go along with it. Just a simple jean and Black tank top along with a jacket you had embroidered. It was a jean jacket with a very detailed embodiment of Michael Jackson's Off the Wall album cover on the back. A personal favorite of yours because it turned out better than you thought it would be.

Pulling up to the diner you could hear the music shaking the earth around you as you headed in. Looking around to see the many drunk or just excited people around until your eyes finally found Dewey's. He waved excitedly as you walked over. "So roadside huh?" You said slipping into the seat across from him.

"She's an oldie but a goodie!" He beamed as you took your jacket off you started to put it beside you when Dewey stopped you. "It that Michael Jackson?!" You shake your head yes. "Wait?! Did you make that?!" He said even more excited. Another shake came from you as he went crazy over it demanding you made one for him but with Led Zeppelin on it.

"Yeah I can try to do it during the break." You said as he grabbed two glasses.

"Let's drink to that!" You both raised you glasses and drank the liquid inside of it. The two of you talked the entire night and had so much in common. It was sad when the night was over and you both headed out after saying your goodbyes.

A couple weeks went by and the two of you hung out more. Mr Schneebly had finally told you the truth about him being Dewey Finn and at first you were appalled by the fact. It wasn't until you heard the children talk about how much he impacted their lives that you started to sympathize with him. School had just ended and all the children were gone. You stepped out into the hallway to see Miss Mullins panicking as the parents were going ballistic due to the disappearance of their kids.

You practically ran to your car as you drove off to where the supposed battle of the bands was held. Before leaving you grabbed something from your car. Going into the venue the showed had just started as some band was up playing their song. You found your way to the front and waited. You look behind you to see that Muss Mullins and the parents had found the place as well as they all tried to rush backstage. You were tempted to but decided that the parents would be enough. It was finally the kids turn as they came onto the stage to sing Teacher's Pet. You actually were surprised with how amazing they were, and this made you fall in love with Dewey even more. He was so happy and energetic on the stage that you wanted to go on there and dance yourself. The song finally ended as you cheered for the band and ran backstage.

"Dewey that was amazing!" You screamed as Dewey spun around shocked to see you but accepted the giant hug you forced him into.

"You came!" He was thrilled to see you putting his arms around your waist. It had been a bit rough with the whole teacher thing but you were slowly letting it go.

"Oh!" You grabbed something from your bag. "I brought you a great first concert gift!" You opened the bag and pulled out the leather embodied jacket.

"No way!" Dewey immediately put it on. "I love it! Which reminds me." He beamed stepping closer to you as his arms held your hips. "I got you a present too." He said with love in his eyes as his lips connected with yours in a very soft but passionate way. Your hands went to his neck as you played with the collar on the jacket. It wasn't until you heard someone coughing to get your attention. You both broke apart to see Zach.

"They want us on stage to sing another song." He said as Dewey just nodded. Turning back to you he gave you one last quick kiss.

"Go and teach rock to the world." You said as he held you hand.

"I will Y/N, I will."

#alex brightman x reader #dewey finn x reader #dewey x reader #dewey finn #school of rock #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x gender neutral reader #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice bway #beetlejuice broadway

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ohmyronpa-imagines · 4 years

Note

Can you please do a scenario with the DR2 girls and their s/o find a two person bike and their s/o suggests to ride it around the island?

SDR2 girls and S/O riding a two person bike on the island

Aww! This was so cute! ❤️ - Mod Somey

Sonia Nevermind

She was ecstatic when you asked her to ride with you, it was a perfect day as well! It would be perfect for her to be able to look around the island in an efficient way too!

When you two had gotten on the bike, Sonia decided to take the front of the bike, it was her calling to be at the head of everything after all.

She really just wanted an excuse for riding a bike, she never really got to, being that she was a princess and didn't have that type of free time.

She really liked the ride, and constantly asks you if you two can ride again.

Mikan Tsumiki

When you proposed the idea, she was nervous of messing up.

She was a nervous wreck when you two got on the bike, she was shaking but made sure to stay as still as possible, so she didn't knock the bike over, the last thing she wanted was to injure you on a bike ride.

She took the back of the bike and even though there were handles for her, she still held onto your back on the ride.

But things aren't clumsy without Mikan.

Something happened when you were steering and you two flipped off the bike, you were wearing helmets, courtesy of Mikan, so you were safe.

But Mikan, oh Mikan.

She was apologizing and almost crying when the bike flipped and you two fell.

She had landed on your chest with her rear completely in your face, her skirt was flipped up, flashing you her underwear, and her shirt somehow got caught on your zipper, so she wasn't able to get up without the position getting even worse.

You were stuck like that for at least an hour before Hajime found you two and helped you two out of the position.

Your bike was gone. Just. Gone. It disappeared.

Hiyoko Saionji

You asked her and she looked at you and glared.

You were confused until you realized, with her sitting, she wouldn't be able to touch the pedals unless she used the tip of her toes.

You made a compromise and decided that she could just sit on the back and not have to pedal.

She wasn't that heavy, so it would be easy.

She didn't say it out loud, but she enjoyed the ride.

She did puff her cheeks when you told her she didn't have to cling to you.

"I did not!"

Akane Owari

Akane saw the bike and was immediately hopping on with her in front. She was ready to race across the island in record time.

"It's not a race, Akane!"

"Anything is a race if you try hard enough!"

Akane took you all over the island, while you were holding onto the handles for dear life. You weren't trying to fly off a bike going at a speed that's definitely not street legal.

After you two returned the bike, you had to call Kazuichi to fix the tires, they were basically gone from the wear and tear of the bike ride.

Akane would do the same thing every time you saw the bike.

Who knew a bike ride with your girlfriend could be so scary and enjoyable at the same time?

Ibuki Mioda

Ibuki was completely on board with you two going for a bike ride.

"This could be a good song! I call it, "It's a bike ride and I have no idea when it'll stop!".

That was a song you'd listen to.

You can sometimes still hear Kazuichi screaming.

Ibuki decided that she would let you steer, she wanted to be able to look around without breaking the bike by crashing into a palm tree.

She was singing the whole ride.

Another Kazuichi scream.

After that first ride, she started to bring her guitar to every ride.

More screaming Kazuichi.

Mahiru Koizumi

She nodded immediately. Of course she would. It could be a good way of spending time together, and would make a good picture for her album for you two.

Mahiru wanted to steer so she could get a feel for a bike ride, it reminded her of her childhood, and also made her happy to have you with her.

Who knew a bike ride could cause so many emotions.

You two had taken quite a few stops so Mahiru could take pictures, sometimes of you two, sometimes of the scenery.

It was a very calm and refreshing bike ride for you two.

Peko Pekoyama

Peko was confused when you asked her to ride with her, but she liked making you happy, so even though she didn't understand, she did it.

She was steering and couldn't help but smile as you rambled about anything, she was enjoying the scenery quite a lot. The first island's park was her favorite place to ride to.

You two frequently rode on the bike as you two discovered you both enjoyed the rides.

You and Peko started using the rides as exercise and a way to talk about your days and experiences.

Peko didn't know she could enjoy riding a bike as much as she did.

Chiaki Nanami

You two took a nice ride for half an island before Chiaki fell asleep. That was fine with you.

She looked really cute with her cat ear helmet.

She woke up and you continued riding.

That happened for the rest of the ride. She apologized and said that if you two did this again, she would take a nap so she wouldn't fall asleep.

Something told you that wouldn't help either way. But how could you be mad? She was adorable.

#sdr2 #peko pekoyama #sonia nevermind #mikan tsumiki #ibuki mioda #hiyoko saionji #mahiru koizumi #chiaki nanami #akane owari

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virsamin · 5 years

Note

Headcanons of MC being caught masturbating and shouting their name?

I had way too much fun writing this-

Their Reaction to Catching MC Masturbating and Crying Out Their Name:

Victor:

The company had been stressing him out lately. Work had piled up while he was gone a business trip.

MC would come to see him from time to time in his office, each encounter leaving him breathless and wanting more.

Yet, he refused to worship her body that way in such circumstances. He wanted to love her properly in the comfort of his or her home, but time did not allow that. (The irony-)

He had finally gotten out of work on time for once. He had all of these emotions pent up inside and the only person who could release it from him was his little idiot.

He pulled up at MC's apartment and took out the shibu-inu customized key she had given him.

He locked the door behind him and threw his long coat on her leather sofa and made his way to her room.

The door was slightly ajar, and soft moans and pants were spilling from it.

"Victor!"

His eyes widened as he saw her back arc off the bed beautifully, her hair falling behind her with a hand between her trembling thighs.

She'd finally relax, still breathing a little hard when a light chuckle reverberated in the otherwise silent room.

He stared at her, shoulder leaning against the wall, arms crossed as a smirk plastered itself on his lips.

"Couldn't wait for me, MC?"

Kiro:

He was on tour, promoting his new album. It would be a while before he'd finally see his Miss. Chips again.

They'd call often: when he was on his lunch break, right before his shower, and usually before bed.

This time though, it was right before a show. He'd texted MC the outfit that they'd dressed him in and she had to call to voice her enthusiasm.

He sat on the floor of the dressing room closet, phone in hand, as he rambled on about his day to her.

His voice was low and quiet, like the soft whispers he'd say into MC's hair while they cuddled, or the way he'd ask for her confirmation when they'd make love.

His whispers and those sharp collarbones that were slightly revealed under the cut of his shirt were just too much for MC and she found her free hand traveling to the growing wetness between her thighs.

She continued to play with herself as he spoke, excusing her soft sighs as a demeanor of being tired.

“K-Kiro!”

She couldn’t help the name that fell from her mouth and a slight blush rose to her cheeks.

His thoughts clicked in his head as he recognized the cry and a presumptuous smile spread across his face.

He continued speaking to her, this time telling her how much he missed her and the way she throbbed around his cock. His rambling turned into the dirty talk she loved so much in an attempt to help her climb to her release.

"MC, you should have told me you needed some help."

There would definitely be a repeat performance after his show.

Lucien:

It was late, or should he say early within the day as it was well past midnight. The sky lacked its stars as a tired professor walked along the streets, making his way to his empty apartment.

He was exhausted. He hadn't slept well in a while, three days to be exact, and he yearned the comfort of his soft bed.

Lucien sat on his couch running over his files once more before bed. He'd sigh, throwing it to the side before freezing when he heard a soft "Lucien..."

He waited again, thinking he'd misheard before she repeated it again, but louder.

"Lucien, please!"

He hastily made his way to the wall that separated the two rooms and pressed his ear to it, making sure he was hearing her right.

She moaned loudly, panting heavily as she called out his name, again and again, trying to reach her climax.

Heat would rush to the bulge that was now forming in his pants. He'd close his eyes as he pulled out his hard cock, imagining MC small hands grasping his length and pumping him.

Her moans would make it so much more real as the two of them sat in adjacent rooms, pleasuring themselves with the thoughts of the other.

His name would fall from her lips faster and louder as she reached her peak.

After they both came, she'd lay on her bed exhausted and sleepy while he slid to the floor with a soft smile plastered onto his face.

He'd make sure to bump into her 'accidentally' as she was leaving her apartment the next day.

"MC, are you alright? You seem a little tired."

"Actually... I couldn't sleep too well last night"

"Hmm...? You should have called me over, I could have helped you."

(He'd definitely have that cheeky smile of his on)

Gavin:

He had finally been given the chance to come home.

Day after day, he'd get to one sight and then another, working hitting up his schedule relentlessly.

Each day spent without the other passed agonizingly slow, and all he yearned for was to see that beloved girl's smile and hear her beautiful voice.

They'd share phone calls late at night and a couple of sparse text messages, but he couldn't afford any more than that.

When he had found out he was able to go home early, he kept it to himself, wanting to surprise his lovely MC.

He brought her favorite flowers and food in preparation for a special night.

He walked in the apartment that they shared and faltered at the sound of a whimper.

Quietly setting his things down, he'd tense and make his way to the sound.

His actions were rushed as he heard a "Gavin!" from behind their bedroom door.

He pushed the door open so fast that it slammed the wall behind it, MC's head shooting up in the process.

He'd prepared himself to see MC in some sort of danger when she screamed his name, not half-naked and heavy-lidded under the sheets of their shared bed.

He'd be EXTREMELY flustered, looking away as he blushed and apologized profusely.

Her cheeks were also pink as she took the courage to push off the covers and walk to him, offering to take care of the hardening length inside his pants.

(rip stuff he left on the counter)

A/N: I was wondering if any of you guys were interested in reading some of the drabbles I've written. Some of them are smutty, most are fluffy. Then there's a couple of angsty ones that hurt too much to make into a whole fic so- let me know.

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radramblog · 3 years

Text

5 RNG’d Songs

After being burned out yesterday I spent a lot of today relaxing and doing shit for myself because yknow its Sunday and all that and now it’s 10:55 PM 11:05 PM and I haven’t written shit so time to do that.

I’m gonna hit shuffle on my spotify Liked Songs 5 times and discuss what comes up. Linkin Park Pt.2 tomorrow.

(Remember when this was just a music blog? Good times.)

1. Robot Rock- Daft Punk (Human After All)

…fuck, I keep forgetting to take this off the list. Ok, this one’s a freebie, I’m not counting it for shit. I like Daft Punk a fair bit, and French house music in general if I’m honest, but Robot Rock is a repetitive mess that goes for 2 minutes longer than is justifiable. Its just the same line, over and over again, and it gets really obnoxious eventually. Human After All is far from their best work.

1.(again) Prequel to the Sequel- Between the Buried and Me (Colors)

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Oh now we’re talking. Colors is an album that I spent a while hunting for on CD, being one of those really fun ones where everything blends together like one big song, such that on a first listen you aren’t going to be able to tell where the tracks begin and end (PttS’s ending is more obvious than most, but I digress). Prequel to the Sequel is the 6th of the 8 tracks on the album, clocking in at 8:37 making it the 4th longest song on the album. Prog Metal be like that.

Most of the track is the fun proggy metal stuff I love from albums like these, developing new lines and having moments that come out of nowhere but are extremely satisfying- those piano notes at ~4:50 are so fucking good. Shortly following this is one of the points on Colors where everything cuts back and we’re suddenly listening to a different genre- one of the previous tracks has a deadass hoedown breakdown and in Prequel’s case it’s a little polka-y accordian bit. Moments like this add levity and a breather from the otherwise intense onslaught of riffs and percussion the album gives, and are easy to appreciate as a result. Prequel follows it with what is in my opinion the best section of the album, where everything suddenly builds back up again as the vocals hit their most desperate note, crashing down into the most intense part of the song so far. It’s a really great time, and I think on its back Prequel manages to snatch the title of favourite song on the album for me from the former head, White Walls, the album’s closer.

2. Powerless- Linkin Park (Living Things)

fuck off ill get to you soon enough

2. (again) Land of Confusion- Disturbed (Ten Thousand Fists)

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Eh. It’s been a long time since I listened to this, actually, having entered my list as I went through some metal bands I’d heard of when I was a wee babo trying to find workout music. It took embarrassingly long for me to find out it was a cover, with the Genesis version being probably better. Genesis is just a better band than Disturbed, and I would be hard-pressed to call myself a fan of either.

Out of curiosity, I checked the top listened to songs on Spotify for Disturbed, and this doesn’t even make the top 5, which I didn’t expect to be honest. Also, how the hell is their Sound of Silence cover ahead of Down with the Sickness? One is their iconic song, one is an overdone piece of shit. Ah well, Stricken is better anyway.

(also the music video is the least subtle thing I have ever seen)

3. Serious- Stuck in the Sound (Billy Believe)

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I mean, I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk about these guys, I guess. Stuck in the Sound is a French rock band (that sings in English) somewhat known for their really cool music videos- while Serious is mostly silly, the animated videos for Let’s Go and Alright are excellent, and Badroom’s is fucking hilarious.

Serious is probably my favourite song from the band’s 2019 album, Billy Believe, and is a loose, fun song with a friendly vibe. It’s a great example of the somewhat odd accent of the vocalist- I don’t know what part of France he’s from to be honest, but its not a bad thing- and while I’d argue it isn’t representative of the band as a whole it’s still a pretty great track. Despite it’s name, it is not very serious.

4. Skyscraper- Touché Amore (Stage Four)

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Well, I was thinking about doing a full runthrough of this album at some point, but sure, skip to the end why don’t we. Stage Four is an excellent, heartwrenching album about the band’s singer coming to terms with his mother’s death from cancer, told largely through a lot of brutal screamo vocals that aren’t probably as harsh as that sounds- it’s more frustrated than angry, you know. Skyscraper is the closer to the album, representing the passage away from the fourth stage (geddit) of grief and onto the final stage, acceptance. The screaming is replaced by almost spoken word verses, and a simple chorus sung by not the same bloke as the rest of it- save for an almost ethereal repetition of the lyrics at the song’s climax. The line (you lived there, under the lights) is such a simple thing, but its one of those wistful memories you get when dealing with loss, and the way that can make you feel is conveyed by the weight of these lyrics. I’ve been fortunate enough to have not had to deal with losing a direct family member like this yet, so I can’t possibly know what it’s like, but this song represents the point in that process that you hope to get to eventually.

One of the previous songs on the album (I think New Halloween?) ends with a line referring to a final voice message left from the singer’s late mother that he hasn’t had the courage to listen to. Fittingly, Skyscraper ends with this voicemail playing. It’s such a mundane little message, but it makes for a really meaningful little moment.

5. Black Fingernails, Red Wine- Eskimo Joe (Black Fingernails, Red Wine)

youtube

Shoutout to that one time a mate of mine was like “Hey what’s that song called where the lyrics go black fingernails red wine?”. To be fair, I didn’t know the song at the time.

Eskimo Joe is one of the more popular bands out of Perth, so I’ve gotta give them some home team love, though they’ve been less prolific in the last decade as they were back in the 00s. BFRW, their 2006 album, is pretty clearly their most popular, and I’d argue the title track is the best song on the album. It’s this oddly melancholy little alt rock tune backed by some lovely percussion and piano lines. Unfortunately for this ramble its one of those tunes where I don’t have an awful lot to say about it, I just like it. Oops. Randomness has its drawbacks. I went to go watch the music video for the first time to have something else to talk about but it’s like, kinda boring? I like how it just cuts out at the end though.

#music #ramble

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miss-authorcita · 5 years

Text

London Boy

So Taylor Swift's album released today at midnight and I listed to the whole thing and I loved it! Excuse my obsession but as soon as I heard London Boy I couldn't help but imagine singing it to Tom Holland and my creativity spark. It's not a very well thought One-Shot since I did write it at 1am after listening to the whole album so sorry if it's not as good as I feel it is while being sleepy at 2am.

Summary: Inspired by the song London Boy by Taylor Swift. You move to London where you meet and fall in love with Tom Holland.

___

I had arrived at London late last night and hadn't had the opportunity to explore the city till today. It was entirely breathtaking or at least the blocks I'd walked from my new loft were. I was strolling Camden Market, my headphones on and jamming to Motown's greatests hits, currently The Supremes 'Baby Love' was working as the soundtrack to my English tour.

I regretted not wearing a thicker jacket since the weather was very different from what I was used to back in SoCal. I was sporting my Bruce Springsteen tshirt, faded blue jeans, converse that once upon a time used to be white and my thick wool jacket. I decided to dip into a dive bar for warmth before I kept on exploring.

I sat on a stool and ordered a Tennessee whiskey getting the classic 'Tourist' look from the bartender. 'Not a tousiris, but yes I'm new' I said in my mind for the tenth time that day.

I was enjoying letting the liquid warm my body when I heard a loud but contagious laugh. I turned towards the sound finding a trio of boys. The one laughing I could only see his profile but he had tousled brown hair, adorable dimples and was just incredibly attractive.

"That's bollocks!" He exclaimed to his friend, the accent making me melt on the spot.

His friends caught me staring and "subtly" told him. He turned around and our eyes met, I choked on my drink causing me to blush. What would be the odds of running into Tom Holland? He walked away from his friends and approached me. I couldn't control the smile that took over my face.

"Hi." He said leaning against the counter. "I'm Tom."

"I know." I answered, extending my hand for him to shake. "I'm Y/N"

"Pleasure, Y/N. I was going to offer to buy you a drink, but I see you already got that covered." He said indicating to my still very full glass of whiskey.

"How about I buy you one?" I flirted and he chuckled and took a seat on the stool next to me.

We sat for awhile exchanging stories and pleasantly flirting with each other.

"This might sound odd but one of my mates is having a little party tonight, at Highgate. Would you like to come?" He seemed nervous after he asked and I smiled wide making him relax a bit.

"I'd love to."

•••••••••••••••••

After the party and meeting all his best mates as he said we kept on spending time together. I started to love high tea in the evenings and telling him all about my college years and comparing to his Uni. He knew I loved musicals so he'd taken me to the West End one night to see the production of Wicked.

I couldn't believe how quickly we became a part of each others lives. We'd spend our nights in the pub, screaming at the TV as we watched Rugby with his school friends. He'd always split a cab with me to make sure I got home safe. We'd cuddle on the ride, watching the gray sky on that rainy cab ride.

"You don't to go home tonight." I whispered in his ear after a whole month of dating.

"Babe, don't threaten me with a good time" he purred, locking his caramel eyes with my own.

My answer came in the form of a kiss and just like that we walked hand in hand into my tiny London loft.

•••••••••••••••••

When we felt like enjoying the music and nightlife we would spend nights in Brixton. Other days it was artisan coffee shops in Shoreditch in the afternoon.

Soon it couldn't be helped and the paparazzi started posting our pictures in magazines and websites.

'Spotted: mystery girl with Tom Holland. Is the Spiderman actor in love?' The headlines said. I worried about it as I read the theories online on my phone waiting for Tom to be ready to go out.

"Maybe we should stay in today." I voiced once he stepped into the living room.

"Oh, alright. Are you feeling alright?" He asked concern evident on his face.

"I just...don't want to be outside." I hesitated, not knowing if I should voice my fears.

Tom sat beside me and put his arm around me, bringing me closer.

"You can tell me." He promised.

I took a deep breath "We've only been together 3 months and they're trying to define our relationship before we even have! I mean we've never talked about it. I don't know if this is just casual for you or if it's more or I don't--" I groaned and buried my head in my hands.

Tom chuckled and brought me closer. He started kissing my head and ear and neck till I started laughing and pushing him away. He waited till I calmed down to kiss my lips, softly.

"Darling, I fancy you" he breathed and my breath hitched.

"So I guess all the rumors are true" I said and we spent the night inside, watching TV in our pajamas and eating junk food.

•••••••••••••••••

Tom was leaving for Ireland to film a movie he'd booked. The schedule said he'd be away for 2 months and he promised to be back in time for the holidays.

"I'm going to miss you so much, love." He said, his arms around my waist as we said our goodbyes.

"We'll skype as much as you can and we'll see each other soon...right?" My insecurities making an appearance even though I didnt want them to.

"Of course! I still have loads of London to show you." He insisted, pulling me closer.

"You said you'd show me more of Hackney." I reminded him.

"And I will! I'm going to take you to the Museum of Curiosities. You'll love it...or maybe you're tired of the urban side of London. I could take you to the Louis Vuitton shop up on Bond Street, we can see the classier side of London." He was rambling, something I now knew he did whenever he felt nervous.

"I just wanna be with you." I confessed, looking at him adoringly. He smiled, those dimples that first pulled me making an appearance and enchanting me all over again.

We kissed one last time before he got in the car and I watched it drive away.

•••••••••••••••••

In the months he was gone I missed him like crazy. He'd become home to me in such a short amount of time. They say home is where the heart is, mine is with Tom. We texted constantly and Skyped, but we both had responsibilities plus the distance didn't allow us as much time as we had when he was here with me.

I still went out, I enjoyed walking SoHo and drinking in the afternoon with friends from work. I even met up with his mates and hung out.

I was walking home one night from the pub. The streets were already decorated with lights, multiples Happy Christmas signs hung in every store, it was clearly the best time of the year but I couldn't help but be blue. I rounded the corner when I saw him. Sitting on the steps of my loft, suitcase in hand and probably freezing.

"Tom!" I yelled and ran to him, almost slipping in the process.

Our bodies smashed into each other as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He kissed every inch of my face and I laughed, letting him because the butterflies in my stomach were going crazy.

"I missed you so much, love!" He exclaimed and kissed me firmly on the lips.

I ran my fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck and pulled him closer. Once we were both breathless we pulled away.

"You didn't tell me you were coming." I scolded but the smile on my face told him I wasn't really upset.

"I wanted to surprise you." He said and kissed my cold, red nose.

"I love you." I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"I love you too." He spoke in his gorgeous English accent and we kissed once more.

Here we were, a couple weeks before christmas, in the snow, declaring our love for each other. I can't believe I fell in love with a London boy.

#tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #taylor swift london boy #london boy #taylor swift #tom holland

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marvel-lucy · 5 years

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The Walking Disaster, Chapter 3

All chapters are on the Walking Disaster Masterlist

The next time I saw Steve, was actually out in the wild. I saw wild, I mean outside the apartment building. I was out for coffee and doing those mental acrobatics to justify spending $5 on a coffee when I could have had it for free at home. Today’s excuse? I was keeping those baristas in employment. I’m all heart, me.

As you can imagine, a coffee shop is fraught with dangers for someone like me. There’s the coffee for a start. Not only is it a liquid and therefore spillable, but it’s also caffeine, and god knows even I’ll accept I don’t really need any pepping up. My mouth would run away with itself under general anaesthetic. I’m asking for closed casket at my own funeral just so my corpse doesn’t accidentally insult my cousin’s dress sense. Then there’s the people. Lots of them, all with legs that might stick out and trip me, conversations for me to get too caught up in that I join in, children who might decide to bite my ankles (don’t ask. It’s a thing) … it’s a wonder I don’t stay inside all the time.

But I was there, with a friend. Yes, even a human fiasco like me can have friends. There’s hope for us all, even Calamity Jane got married. In the movie anyway. So, there I was, with my friend. I don’t know why she’s my friend to be honest. She’s so together. She looks like a ballet dancer, all long legs and muscles. The most beautiful red hair you’ve ever seen, and she’s a killer, Natasha – with put downs and sarcasm that is. But for some unknown reason she tolerates me. Perhaps even likes me. Maybe she’s got some debt she’s paying community service for.

Anyway, as always, I digress. There we were. I was buying us both coffee (carrying two drinks? Why not juggle fire next?!) and had somehow navigated my way to our table and put the drinks down safely when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Ever turned around to see an angel? You should try it.

‘Hi! Steve! Hello!’ (Sophisticated with a side of casual disinterest is what I was going for). His friend was standing behind him, and I could see him appreciating Natasha, quite rightly. Me, I could feel the flush forming because it was only a few minutes ago that I’d been telling Nat all about my new neighbour, Steve, and I could tell from the arch of her eyebrow that she’d worked out who this was, and was going to watch this play out with amusement. With any luck she’d take pity on me and save me from myself, but I doubted it.

‘Hi, I’m Natasha,’ she said, sticking her hand out towards Steve. She obviously didn’t trust me to manage to speak coherently. Steve shook it, then gestured behind him.

‘This is Bucky.’ His friend mock-saluted and I knew Natasha well enough to see her interest rise. ‘Can we join you?’

Oh Lordy.

Steve took a quick look around the coffee shop and spotted a couple of empty seats, dragging them over, and then we were four, around one of those too-small round tables. I was sitting at an uncomfortable angle trying to avoid bumping knees with Steve, who was next to me. Me, Steve, Bucky and Nat, all friends together.

I picked up my coffee and took a big gulp to hide my confusion. You know the thing about coffee though? It’s hot. Really hot. Especially when you take a big mouthful.

And that’s why I ended up spraying Nat with a mouthful of hot coffee, then turning scarlet as I choked. To be fair to Nat, she’s used to it, and she’s the one who decided to sit in the splash zone, so she didn’t scream, but just rolled her eyes and pulled up a pile of paper napkins that she’d wisely thought to pick up before she sat down, and started mopping herself up. Meanwhile, I tried to get my coughing under control, tone down my redness, regain feeling in my tongue, and get a hold on myself. I’m usually pretty OK with being such a catastrophe, but some days I’d really like to be cool, not make a fool of myself, especially not in front of someone quite so cute.

When I finally looked up, Nat and Bucky had started communing over mopping up some puddles on the table, and I could see her sizing him up. He’d be eating out of her hand soon, it’s like she brainwashes them. I risked a glance at Steve out of the corner of my eye, and he was smiling at me. But oh. OH. Bless him, he didn’t even look like he was laughing at me, just… smiling.

‘Too hot? I swear the coffee in these places is nuclear. ‘S’why I always get iced these days.’ He gestured towards his iced coffee, then tilted it towards me. ‘Want a sip? Cool your mouth down.’ Was ever a man more charming? I challenge you to name one.

I didn’t take a sip. I mean, I wanted to, my mouth hurt. But it seemed a little forward when I’d not really managed to speak a sentence to the poor guy. And knowing my luck I’d end up poking his eye out with the straw anyway.

So we sat there, the four of us, for an hour or so. I drank my coffee, eventually, when it was a bit cooler, and I didn’t spill any more of it. I relaxed a bit and didn’t freak out (externally) when my knee bumped into Steve’s. I found out a bit about him, and about Bucky, and Nat told them about her, and I told them about me, and Nat only had to kick me twice under the table to get me to remember to stop rambling. I couldn’t help it, I was trying to find the right thing to say, that would make me seem less of a disaster; trying to find the right phrase that would make me sound as cool as Nat, only my approach seemed to be to keep on talking in the hope I’d get there. Hadn’t worked yet, but first time’s a charm, right?

Here’s what I found out.

1. Steve liked his coffee cold.

2. Steve had the most beautiful blue eyes the world has ever seen.

3. Steve’s knee felt really warm.

4. When he picked up his drink, his biceps bulged.

Oh, wait, what, you want facts? Whatever.

Turns out they both did really good people jobs. You know the kind that make you rethink your existence? I mean, I’m not a bad person, but Bucky worked with disadvantaged kids in Brooklyn, and Steve was an art teacher, and they probably both rescued kittens from fires and knitted homes for orphaned bunnies out of organic wool. I may be exaggerating, but saying ‘yeah, I do admin for the VA’ just didn’t sound that impressive. Nat was her usual secretive self, and just went with ‘I do the jobs that people need doing and are willing to pay for.’ Makes ‘I’m currently signed up with an agency doing temp work’ sound much cooler.

What else did I find out? They’d known each other since school – it showed, from the way they teased each other. They’d lost touch for a few years – I get the feeling Bucky had made some bad choices, but they glossed over that – and now that Steve had a new job, they were reconnecting. Steve used to be scrawny (I found that hard to believe, but Bucky pulled out his phone and showed us this picture of a teeny Steve before his growth spurt had hit).

Here’s what they would have found out about me.

I like cats, the colour blue, Thai food, prefer Star Trek to Star Wars, like Marvin Gaye’s Trouble Man album, and can’t shut up.

Maybe it’s not as bad as I’m remembering. I mean, they stayed there with us for a while, right, and it can’t only have been because Nat is worth staring at for an hour. Maybe? Perhaps? But right now it’s 3am and I’m sitting in the dark and wincing as I replay the conversations in my head. Doesn’t help that my head is throbbing either. I didn’t mention that did I?

See, it wasn’t going so badly. I mean, we were chatting, and if I’m being kind to myself, I’ll be honest and say that I did say some things that made sense, and the conversation flowed, and Steve laughed on occasion and, it could have been worse. So then I needed to go, because I had an appointment, so we did the whole ‘lovely to meet you’, ‘see you around’ thing, and I managed to untangle myself from the chairs and tables pretty easily, and headed for the exit with Nat. I could feel her just waiting for us to get out of eyesight of the windows so she could pin me up against a wall and quiz me about everything, and I was kinda looking forward to doing the same to her; she wasn’t going to get away with that kind of flirting with Bucky without some interrogation.

So I just needed to hold it together for a few more seconds, just pretend not to be a complete farce while I walked out of the door.

You can see where I’m going with this, right? Shame I couldn’t. You see, I tried to do this sophisticated sweet little turn of the head, waver over my shoulder, leave them wanting more as we left. Which would have worked great, if I hadn’t pulled the door a little too hard, turning my head back towards it as I went, and slamming the door right into my own forehead.

Starbucks employees are very generous with their ice cubes when your head is developing a lump the size of a small planet.

And that’s why I’m sitting here, regretting my life choices, and planning to move to another state by morning. Wish me luck.

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@melconnor2007 @avengerscompound @kittyslove @badassbaker @phoenix21love @lbouvet @bellenuit45 @prplprincez @gingerrootknits @pineapplebooboo @feelmyroarrrr @avengerofyourheart @eyeofdionysus @hellomissmabel @learisa @mitra-k-w @imhereforbvcky @shaddixlife @iwillbeinmynest @amrita31199 @whatsbetterthanfantasy @pixierox101 @edward-lover18 @madcheshire89 @heartfulloffandoms @chipilerendi @kenya-17 @mckorni32843 @amandarosemire @rda89 @nyxveracity @sea040561 @mrsalh32611 @ruinerofcheese @callmebucky-doll @vintagepigeon @bubbasmom @sassycanoodler @ladylorelitany @natcad @thisismysecrethappyplace @mywinterwolf @moderapoppins @rinthehufflepuff @holyfuckloueh @onebatch--twobatch

#steve rogers au #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x ofc #marvel au

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bronzeflower · 5 years

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I Do Adore-Mindy Gledhill

Also on ao3

Day 6: Recognition/Appreciation/Admiration

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Being in love was illogical. A lot of the times, it was just a weakness that was inevitably going to be exploited by villains.

Not to mention the fluttering stomach and weak knees and blushing cheeks and the heart that kicked into overdrive the moment you were around the object of your affections.

And somehow, someway, Shouta had married the person he ended up in love with, but he couldn't really bring himself to care much about how illogical it all was.

Hizashi was just too amazing.

~Everything you do it sends me Higher than the moon with every Twinkle in your eye You strike a match that lights my heart on fire~

Shouta was careful to not let himself be seen with Hizashi by the students. Hizashi made him act irrationally, and that wasn't the kind of persona Shouta wanted to have in front of his students.

But he supposed it sometimes couldn't really be avoided.

Shouta was fine with some PDA in the teacher's lounge. Nothing more than a quick kiss though, and that was only in place because Shouta had a weak will when it came to getting affection from Hizashi.

Again, illogical, especially as Shouta still went braindead whenever Hizashi kissed him, which meant that he occasionally forgot to bring papers to class that he needed.

"Oi, Eraser!" Hizashi greeted as he entered the 1-A classroom. "You forgot to take the test sheets with you."

Hizashi had that look in his eye that looked all too pleased at the fact that Hizashi just giving Shouta a small kiss made him forget to bring the all-important tests with him to give to his class.

"Thanks, Mic," Shouta said, shooing Hizashi out the door as his students groaned at the idea of a test even though they've known about it for several weeks.

~When you’re near, I hide my blushing face And trip on my shoelaces Grace just isn’t my forté But it brings me to my knees when you say~

Shouta was almost glad about his mummification after USJ, especially as Hizashi requested that he announce with him. No one could see Shouta blushing at the fact that Hizashi thought to ask him to help announce.

His injuries also gave him an excuse as to why he was a little less graceful when around Hizashi.

"Watch out, Eraser," Hizashi caught Shouta when he began to trip. "Are you sure you're up for teaching, I mean, you're basically blindfolded at this rate."

"I'm fine," Shouta insisted. "It will be a good lesson for the kids, let them face the fact that being a pro hero means risking your life."

"That doesn't mean you can't take care of yourself," Hizashi pouted, and it made Shouta feel maybe a little guilty.

"...I'll be going to Recovery Girl often enough. Don't worry yourself too much about it."

"Alright." Hizashi smiled at him, and Shouta's knees turned into jelly.

~Hello, how are you, my darling today? I fall into a pile on the floor Puppy love is hard to ignore When every little thing you do, I do adore~

"I'm back, my darling starlight!" Hizashi greeted out loud when he got home from the radio station. Shouta, himself, had just gotten back from patrol.

"Welcome home, sunshine," Shouta responded, and he soon found himself in a crushing hug.

"I missed you!"

"You were only gone for about five or six hours..." Shouta said, but he held onto Hizashi anyway, for fear that he would just melt into a puddle of love.

"Still!"

"...I missed you, too," Shouta whispered as quietly as he could, but he was almost certain Hizashi still heard.

~We’re as different as can be I’ve noticed you’re remarkably relaxed And I’m overly uptight We balance out each other nicely~

It was one thing to fall in love. It was a completely different thing to fall in love with your total opposite.

And Shouta and Hizashi, well, they were opposites in almost every sense of the word.

Shouta was calm, quiet, logical, and harsh. He took down villains as quickly as possible with little to no fuss. He hated the media and being in public.

Hizashi was loud, brash, emotional, and cunning. He took down villains with a scream or a pitch with a dramatic flourish. He thrived in the spotlight.

By all means, Hizashi was probably the last person Shouta should have fallen in love with.

But that didn't stop Shouta's heart from pumping a little faster when Hizashi was maybe a little too loud or when he rambled on about a new album that came out or about the complexities of the new language he was learning.

It figures that Shouta would fall for the loudest person he knew.

~You wear sandals in the snow In mid-July I still feel cold We’re opposites in every way But I can’t resist it when say~

"Come on, Sho! The snow canceled school today, and we haven't played in the snow in forever," Hizashi explained. "Let's go!"

"No," Shouta said firmly.

"Why not?" Hizashi whined, his puppy-dog expression starting to get to Shouta. "It'll only be for about an hour, and then we can come back inside, and I can make us some hot chocolate, and then we can build a pillow fort and watch movies while cuddling underneath all the blankets and pillows we can find in the house."

"..." Shouta refused to respond. He knew that, the moment he opened his mouth, he would end up agreeing, and then the two of them would just mess around in the snow, and one of them would likely get a cold from it.

Hizashi turned up the cuteness on his puppy-dog expression, and Shouta finally broke.

"Put some proper shoes on first. You aren't going out there in sandals."

"Alright! Thank you, Shouta, I love you!"

Shouta's will was much too weak when it came to Hizashi.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you, too."

~Hello, how are you, my darling today? I fall into a pile on the floor Puppy love is hard to ignore When every little thing you do, I do adore~

"Good morning, Starlight," Hizashi greeted as Shouta was awoken by the smell of food.

"Mmmmm," Shouta hummed as he opened his eyes. "Morning."

Shouta sat up and leaned over to give his husband a kiss. Hizashi happily returned the kiss.

Shouta started his dastardly plan to get Hizashi back in bed with him when Hizashi pulled away.

"Nah-uh. I know what you're doing, Sho," Hizashi pointed aggressively at him. "I just made breakfast, and if we do anything, then it's going to get cold."

Shouta pouted. Hizashi was pointedly looking away from Shouta.

"We can just reheat it," Shouta reasoned. Hizashi made a disgusted face.

"Reheated pancakes are just gross. Come on, I'll come to bed after we finish breakfast, okay, darling?"

Shouta reluctantly agreed, if only because his stomach was growling.

"You owe me a hundred kisses," Shouta said.

"What!? That's so many!" Hizashi exclaimed.

"I'm gonna hold your favorite mug hostage until you give me one hundred kisses."

"At least eat breakfast first," Hizashi stated. "And besides, you don't need to hold my mug hostage to get me to kiss you."

Hizashi kissed the pout off of Shouta's face.

"Come on, now, Starlight. Breakfast is getting cold."

~Finding words, I mutter Tongue-tied, twisted Foot in mouth, I start to stutter Ha, ha, Heaven help me~

Hizashi had taken Shouta clothes shopping. Shouta didn't really know why. He never really had any opinions on the things Hizashi got.

"What do you think?" Hizashi came out wearing a yellow button-down with a flower pattern that was paired with a long and flowy black skirt.

"It looks comfortable," Shouta pointed out, and Hizashi sighed.

"Is that really your only criteria for fashion?"

Shouta nodded.

"Clothing should be practical and comfortable above all else."

"Ah, you really are hopeless. Whatever." Hizashi went back into the dressing room to put on his next outfit. When he exited, he was wearing a pair of jeans and a pink crop top.

Hizashi did a twirl to show off the outfit, and Shouta found that the entire backside of the jeans were bedazzled.

"Wouldn't those hurt to sit down in?" Shouta asked, and Hizashi huffed and went back into the dressing room. Hizashi went through several more outfits of which Shouta commented on the comfort level.

"What about this!?" Hizashi almost angerly yelled after many critiques. It was a bright yellow hoodie with some black accents paired with a pair of light pink sweatpants.

"...Y-you look good," Shouta sheepishly said, looking a bit to the side and blushing slightly. What could he say-he thought his husband looked sexiest when comfortable.

"Y-you're only saying-saying that because it's comfortable," Hizashi flustered.

Regardless, Hizashi ended up buying the hoodie and sweatpants.

~Hello, how are you, my darling today? I fall into a pile on the floor Puppy love is hard to ignore When every little thing you do, I do adore~

"Good morning, Sunshine," Shouta greeted when he entered the kitchen where Hizashi was already making breakfast.

Hizashi practically jumped out of his skin.

"Ah! Sho! You're not usually up this early, especially on our-" Hizashi was briefly interrupted by Shouta hugging him from behind. "Uh, on our d-day off."

Shouta was kissing Hizashi's neck, and Hizashi gave him a light smack on the head.

"Shouta! Don't distract me while I'm cooking!" Hizashi said firmly. "And don't give me that pout! We've been over this!"

Shouta pouted even harder. Hizashi frowned at him for a few seconds before sighing.

"I guess I have no choice then," Hizashi gave Shouta peck on the lips.

And one turned to two, which turned to ten until Hizashi started smelling burning.

"Ah! This is why you can't distract me while I'm cooking!" Hizashi quickly turned off the heat and scraped the burnt residue off the pan.

Hizashi was also weak-willed when it came to Shouta.

#erasermic #eraserhead #present mic #yamada hizashi #aizawa shouta #erasermic week 2019 #bnha #my hero academia

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aggresivelyfriendly · 5 years

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Hi loveys- I’m too tired to say much, traffic made a 2.5 hour drive over 4 hours. So, I’m sleeping! Thanks @emulateharry for the read!

Hinode-Chapter 8!

"You can't just drop a story like that and not preface it with, 'this one time I was at Mick Jagger's baby shower.'" Ada's face was open as morning windows on the first sunny day after rough weather. Harry loved it. "I need a warning that your aged doppelgänger is the feature of the story." He watched her throat work over a sip of her first glass of the new bottle.

"Mick doesn't like it when you mention his age." He picked up his, second? third? Glass of wine and inclined it at her. "Bit of a Peter Pan syndrome." He leaned in close to the lips he hadn't had the pleasure of since 10 am, 15 hours, not that he was counting, and stage whispered so she could feel it, "but don't tell him that."

"Yeah, next time I'm hanging with old Mick I'll be sure to mention his boyband protege thinks he has Peter Pan syndrome!" She laughed and he could feel that and taste the Pinot Noir on her breath. Right, now, her love of red wine made sense. But he'd had her pegged for Sauvignon Blanc. Something refreshing and that went down easy. He supposed now though it made sense she drank something with much more body. "But I think Peter Pan Syndrome gets handed out with spandex pants to would be rockstars. Though you seem to have missed the all call."

"I don't wear spandex!" He gave her a face fit for Liam, could feel the offense in his sneer. Well, he did to box, but under baggy shorts.

"Yet!" She poked his big huge dimple. "And don't knock it, Bowie and Mercury wore spandex." She cocked her raven head. "But you don't seem to want a neverland zip code..." She left it open.

"What do you mean?" He had a feeling he knew, but felt reluctant to answer. He liked the flirty conversation they'd been having, rambling from her making fun of his grandad socks and him asking her worst LA traffic story to him sharing about how he just caught himself from pushing Mick into the cake at his baby shower. He wondered when his legs would stop feeling too long for his body. He had no trouble sharing embarrassing stories, but, he liked white wine conversation. He shouldn't have been too surprised she wanted to talk about something deeper. He maybe just wasn't ready. At least when he was the subject. He wouldn't mind a view of her depths.

"I mean, you seem, shockingly mature for a quarter century old. I know you started young, but Jagger wasn't much older, and he's certainly still trying to grow oats to sow. You could definitely still be running wild, and excused for it I bet. With the dimples and the rambly speeches....."

"Um," he looked around. He needed to get into this, if all those fields he felt when she touched him were ever gonna he real. Harry never went to college, but this felt like the conversations his friends would talk about, the all night ones where people got vulnerable. So, the words stacked up like lemmings ready to jump, the slow ramble of an explanation. He'd want reciprocity. He hoped that this was a foundation, not just an amazing experience he would remember long past their expiration date. Like those conversations often were, he was given to understand. He gathered his courage around him like a baggy coat; he'd done way scarier things than talked, really talked, to a woman he could love. Harry, admittedly, sucked at communication, sometimes conversation. He was gonna do it anyway. "God, this will sound pretentious as fuck, but like, my mum always said I was an old soul with a young spirit." He sighed and leaned back with his glass. "When the band started we had a smorgasbord of bad choices all of a sudden. Maybe not, like, bad choices, but like too much too soon. Liam said it was like college on steroids, and it was. Girls everywhere, offering everything- even if they didn't know what it meant. And um, not that alcohol was brand new to any of us, but the party drugs around were."

He looked down from the wallpaper in her room he'd been focusing on, they'd been lounging in her living area, and he was sorry he'd given her the couch. He wanted to lie down. She nodded at him with a sympathetic brow, and reached out for his hand. That was better.

"There were some nights I woke up and really didn't know how I got back to my room. I think those stories were really funny for some of the other boys, but I hated the like, lack of control. The things people said I said." He shook his head and she squeezed his hand. "I love attention."

"No! You! An international pop star? Love attention?" He smiled gratefully at her attempt to lighten his heavy mood. He wasn't aware this bothered him so much anymore. He'd changed his life so much since then, because of then. "Well," he smiled back at her like a chevalier, "drunk 17 year old Harry really liked attention, and drunk 18 year old Harry really liked girls."

"Do you still like girls?" She fluttered her eyelashes he wondered if it was entirely on purpose. He hoped some of it was unconscious, just her animal brain liking his smell.

"Yeah, I just like fewer of them, and not exclusively. Mostly, I like women." He felt his lashes touch his cheek for a breath and then his eyebrows a couple heartbeats later.

"Good!" She loosened her grip on his hand and used the looser grip to caress him fingertips to elbow. Green light. He could totally shift gears here and wind up on the couch with her, on top of her. Some of the lessons of the lost year stuck, were useful. Or he could tell her the really useful one. How it changed his life. "Round about, honestly," big breath, "those two years are kinda a blur. But I was really pissed at myself for fucking up a performance. Bitching to my mum in my dressing room. And she had this long suffering face, occasionally it obliterates her compassion face. I realized I'd seen that face more than I liked around that time. When we got to talk, even on FaceTime when she called one morning and caught sight of a girl leaving for example. So I, all exasperated like, threw my hands up like a toddler on a store floor and asked what, and she just said, "maybe it's not the song's fault, but how you're treating your instrument.'" He laid his head back and felt her playing with his thinner rings, smiled when she pulled it over his knuckle and then back. "You can take it off." He was already emotionally naked here, his bare fingers couldn't be to shocking. He kept talking while she took off the rose ring, a favorite still in his heavy rotation, and put it on her thumb. He liked that. "Like a bratty 18 year old used to getting his way a bit, I think I asked her what she was on about and went back to bitching. But, I kept hearing it, and the next time I was out late, partying, before we had a big performance, I paid attention. The high notes, they were always hard for me."

"Awful lot on your solo album then." There was a question there he would come back to.

"Yeah, I stopped drinking before shows, which was most nights then, and got a vocal coach. And the girls...."

"The girls."

"Well mum hadn't given me that talking to yet. So that kept up a little while longer."

"But not into your seventies?" She pulled his rings up one by one, and then laced their fingers so that the naked borders between their hand and digits could match up. Then slid her hand away. He wanted to be touching. So he shifted over, planted himself on the couch instead. It was a touch big for two, but ample.

"Barely into my twenties."

"Were you just born middle aged, do you think?" Ada teased. He chuckled a little bit. She was good at this, letting him talk and think slow, distracting him, giving him light comments to his thick words and touching him. Always the physical connection. It kept words flowing and him comfortable in vulnerable moments.

That had been working since day one on set. Ada had the magic touch. He wondered if that was just for him or others too? He wanted it to be his. Harry wasn't normally possessive he didn't think. But he did feel covetous of her attention and touch, her secrets.

Harry took off all his rings then, and layered them up on her hands and pulled them forward, kissed her knuckles. "Maybe not middle aged, but a little ahead of the curve maybe?"

"Is it cuz you had to take care of your mom, do you think?" She wasn't making eye contact on that question. Oh.

"She never asked me to take care of her." He shook his head, she wouldn't like that, his mum. If he had grown up so fast because of her being alone. If it was cuz she unknowingly asked it of him. It wasn't exactly true. But it was a little, and maybe more for Ada.

"No, they don't have to ask."

"You just did?" Harry asked.

"She was just so." He squeezed the hands he still held. "Sad."

"Yeah, and lonely." He supplied.

"But I didn't let her be alone." Ada's eyes were a tiny bit slick. His might've been too.

"I never let her be alone, and I hope I never made her feel guilty for being lonely, with me there." Harry wondered about that. He had eavesdropped a conversation, just before his mum found Robin, about how guilty each date made her feel. He'd stopped pouting when she went out then. He hoped it made her more open when she met his step dad. A tiny contribution to their story.

"Oh, I know I made her feel bad. I remember screaming one time, in my angsty Ophelia stage- 'why do you care about him so much? I'm here!'" She shook her head.

"But, it's different." He said it as gently as possible.

"She deserved a partner, and I...."

"We're not supposed to be their partners, just their kids, babies, they feel guilty if we take too much emotional responsibility."

"And I was pissed at him, but when I did see him, I couldn't be a little bitch, or I was afraid I'd never see him again." She inclined her head.

"But she wasn't going away. So she got the brunt of your teenage angst." She was nodding, he supplying the hardest truths for her. She nodded back and her serious brow cracked his heart for her to crawl in a little deeper. They held hands a minute longer, and Ada sat back, so their shoulders touched, and they could only keep holding one hand.

"Were you an angst boy ever, locked away in an upstairs room, is that where the sad wanks started?" He could tell she missed their banter. Needed a fiver from the tough stuff. He did too, but he really liked knowing her better. It made the estrangement he had sensed she pursued from Garner make sense. Harry had found plenty of industry men who were astoundingly successful at what they did, but had a trail of broken relationships behind them. Harry didn't know Garner well enough to know that about him, and he intended to be around Ada long enough to know all of it. He expected he was going to give Garner the stink eye every time they were near each other and have trouble stopping form now on. He would let her change the subject though, so long as they kept talking.

"I don't think the wanks were sad in those days. Exuberant, maybe enthusiastic, those are better words." Her smile had started on exuberant and she was all out laughing at him though he was giggling away too by enthusiastic.

"I bet! I remember what you looked like at 16 and I can't imagine you crying and coming with that fluffy hair and those huge cheeks!"

"Hey! My cheeks weren't huge! They were normal sized." He wanted to pounce on her, show her a wank. But, he felt like they'd gone someplace she wasn't used to, maybe that was more uncomfortable to her than nudity, he didn't want her to bolt. He knew if it got physical as well, it may never happen again. Instinctively he knew, tonight would make them fragile in the short term, viable in the long term. If he went there, where part of him was desperate to go, on the heels off their disclosures, It would give her all the excuse she needed to keep it there. He'd never get below the surface again. So, he didn't tickle, or pick her up and drape her across himself, did nothing more than lace their fingers like a seam together. God knew he wanted to stitch other parts of him to her.

It just wasn't all he wanted.

She was pointing at him, so he caught her finger and bit the tip playfully. Her eyes widened and then her pupils flared. But before she leaned in and made the offer, one he couldn't refuse, he said "Since you like to be mean and make fun of people, let's see you at 16!"

"Um, no!" She shook her head. Her hair hitting her cheeks a foreign feeling so late at night, or early in the morning. If he wasn't here, her hair would be wrapped up already, but she was trying to be cute. Not scare the white boy. If he stayed, she'd have to re press it tomorrow and they were to travel all day. It would be worth it. But that last segue, and their companionable positions indicated that may not happen. Not yet. A compromising position would get her out of this uncomfortable one though.

Ada was disappointed by the change in directions, she finally thought they might get bare in a way more familiar for her. She'd much rather be in bed with him than talking about her dad, however obliquely. And showing him a picture of her in her very serious alt girl phase was not happening. Awkward very high ponytail, because her mom still wasn't exactly sure how to do her long hair, her hair at all. Ada has learned in college from the new friends she made how to manage her own hair.

She was alright in her teen years, same bone structure and features. But she took herself very seriously those days. Painfully earnest. It would be embarrassing. The clothes, all those ripped tights and midi skirts and flannels. She thought she may even have some vinyl with safety pins recorded for posterity. Yikes! Though she'd seen some very good facsimiles of her own teenage look when they were shooting in harajuku. It still made her cheeks burn. Could she?

"No way, unfair, I am sure you have seen some god awful pictures of me." He grabbed his phone and she was sad they were not touching anymore. It looked like she was not getting dick tonight. His moves were not getting laid ones. She'd be damned if she made the first move. Well, the first time. After that he better be careful when they were alone and away from set.

She was glad they'd tackled that subject first, when the wine was breathing. They were gonna be professional, and never alone. They had agreed to be realistic about their attraction level, so no face time without a chaperone, like an Austen film, or they both assumed they'd be sucking face. Tonight was almost confusing in its modesty. Only their conversation kept their clothes on. It had been awhile since she'd wanted somebody, longer since she'd been wanted. It was wonderful. Ada was gonna hold onto it. She was sure it would be wiped out if he saw a picture of her at 16.

And then he pulled a post on tumblr, of all fucking places, and showed her a smattering or horrible outfits ranging from ill fitting trainers and trousers to a Miley Cyrus costume.

"You make a credible Miley!" She didn't even pretend to not be laughing at him.

"I know! She even said so." He laughed and god, was it weird to want to put whipped cream in his dimples to suck out? Probably. She was gonna ask if she could whenever they broke the seal anyway. "That was when I fell in love with Tokyo. I decided that I wanted to wear the fleshy pants and they were all too easy to acquire."

"Yes, Japan has an underbelly."

"A sexy underbelly?" He pointed at his long pale torso.

"You are so white! God, I thought you liked fake tanner that year, you look paler than her in the picture."

"It's just the lighting." Oh, big lip. She pulled it. He was right, there were some gems on the internet of him. Why he ever, even at 14, wore that Caesar cut. A tragedy for his curls. She fluffed them to assure herself of their presence and that she could. He leaned into her hand and all Ada could think was why not.

"Hold on." She thought there was one Mia had tagged her in, though it killed her, because it was just so chock full of nostalgia. She was pretty sure she had it on Facebook. Way to show her age, lot even Instagram. It didn't take long, she was so inactive it was not far down her feed. But there she was in all her 15 year old glory. Her jeans were baggy and her top was cropped and her hair was high. They'd been at Magic Mountain she thought, those long days that felt like being grown up until you really were. Roaming a place without direct supervision. She'd insisted on her boots that day, though her mom had repeatedly said they weren't walking shoes. By dusk, she'd had to buy band aids.

The memories were crystal clear, and made her smile. She thought maybe she'd had her first kiss that night, some boy from the 213 she exchanged numbers with. Never spoke to again, not even via phone.

"You look at this, remember it's in solidarity with your bowl cut, and then forget it." She'd narrowed her eyes at him and he'd nodded fervently. Then bit his lip when he saw the picture. She assumed to stop the laugh from escaping.

"You are laughing at me!" She was laughing too. How horrified her younger self would be. Ada was very serious at that age, especially about herself.

"I'm not, I'm not. You're so cute!" They were both giggling away and Ada was trying to wrestle her phone back from him.

"Give me the phone, Styles!" She hopes the neighbors were deeply asleep and that the walls were thick in the hotel. "And remember your promise. You are immediately forgetting this."

"Nope, I'll never forget it. Not even if I tried." He was cackling, a wheezy laugh opened by a snort that made her laugh harder. Like those pre teen moments in her bedroom when a friend's snort set everybody rolling again. Their roving conversation and active flirt was everything, obliterated boundaries. So much so that she was straddling him trying to reach deep behind him where he had stashed her phone. She had both hands working now. It was when she felt the distinct crack of his muscular ass that she realized her phone wasnt in his shorts, but her fingers definitely were.

Her eyes came up to his and he still looked brimming with mirth, though his pupils were big and his smile was a smirk. He wiggled her phone with his right hand. "Looking for this? Or have you found your target?"he flashed his eyebrows at her.

Ada pulled her hands free, but left them on his shoulders and sat back on her haunches. Silencing that little voice that hoped his legs would bear her weight harshly. "Um," she wondered if the brightness that was her blush was as obvious to him as it was to her. "Sorry?"

"No worries. Any time you would like to stick your hands down my pants, let me know." She watched the indecision cross his mind. Ada might be getting her way with him. She was sure of it for a nanosecond, and found herself sad. That didn't seem the right way to end this night. Though she didn't know of a better sleep aid than orgasm.

Half of her wanted him to go for it, desperately, the other half, really hoped they had this night, that felt so much like a third date rather than a first, for itself. And the things they showed were their fears and not their body parts. Then his eyes settled and her heart slowed, beat in time with his.

"It's good we travel tomorrow, so I don't have such an early call time. It's late." Ada nodded, still perched on his lap, her hands full of his shoulders and her nostrils his leather and man scent.

"It is, you'd be able to carry a vacation's worth of things in your eye bags tomorrow. When we get to Kyushu, get a treatment on the production to fix that. You have to look your best!" He rolled his eyes at her gentle ribbing and put his hands on her hips. He pulled her into him, and they kissed for the first time all night. It was languid, and Ada felt the tension in her released and reintroduced like her desire was pulled taffy. Rolled over itself and then pulled taught.

He tasted like the wine and long nights rising to early morning, and she was going to lick in for a deeper taste, maybe get the cherries and blackberries the Pinot carried on the palate too, bright orchards in the sun too, when he sat back on the couch and looked at her.

"I want to stay." Ada started to talk, and he barely placed his long ringed index finger against her pouted lips. "But I think tonight was perfect as is."

Ada knew she was nodding. She agreed, despite herself.

"But next time," he caught her eye and the heat there singed her eyebrows, "you and I are in a room alone together so late at night, I'll be hard-" he emphasized the word with a tiny lift of his hips. "Pressed to find the gentleman within me." And he leaned forward and gave her a chaste kiss capped with a tiny bite to her fuller bottom lip.

Ada was dazed as he helped her off his lap. She knew she followed him to door, that she leaned against it to stay on her feet despite her weakened knees. He didn't kiss her there, and she didn't even wonder why. He'd already left quite the impression on her mouth, his taste was on her tongue where she had licked them.

"I'll see you when we get there? We have most of the whole place, around the onsen you wanted?"

She'd nodded, cleared her throat. "Ye-yeah. We have the whole place. The crew and cast. Tomorrow evening there are no events, no shooting, so everybody can go in the hot springs."

"I can't wait to see you in the hot springs." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, smoothed a loose piece of hair back. Her hair would curl up insanely in that steam. She was surprised his sentence didn't remind it it was a ringlet.

"Yeah, bet you look good slick and wet." She bugged her eyes. That was a thought not to be shared that she'd been having. Since she chose the location, if she was entirely honest.

"Too bad they aren't private." He raised brow.

"My room is supposed to have a private bath. With the spring water piped in."

"Mine too. Guess we will have to try both." He chucked her chin and left her standing there staring after him, wishing the next 24 hours away, and wondering where the bumbling boy who fell on her went. He'd been annoying but much less dangerous than the confident man who just walked away. Maybe he wasn't Mick's doppelgänger, but had one of his own. She yawned over that thought and skipped her night time routine assuming she'd just make up for it in the morning.

The next day, she nearly missed their flight. It had taken her ages, despite all the wine, to fall asleep. And she'd woken up from hot dreams to sweat dripping visions of a wet Harry. Maybe he should have stayed. Then she might have been able to sleep, or have a better reason to be awake.

She also left her phone charger in her room, and was worried she wouldn't be able to find one on Kyushu. It was Japan, there would still be electronics available everywhere, right?

They were delayed, and short a vehicle, and lots of logistics were in disarray. She had tons of moles to whack all day. Nothing seems to be going right.

By the time they got everybody checked in and squared away, Ada was dreaming of her private bath, without Harry in it, she was so tired. And she could carry his expansive wardrobe in her eye bags.

But she didn't have a room or private bath at all.

"What do you mean there is no room for Ada Scott?" She was trying not to be the screaming rude American, but who the fuck didn't get her a room? They were fired!

The lady at the counter was quietly explaining they were full, but that everybody on property was with the same group, maybe she could share.

"I don't want to share." Oh, she'd lost control and was whining. "I want my private bath and a bed to myself!" That's what she needed dammit. Deserved after a long day on little sleep with no dick and single kiss to obsess over.

A hand slipped around her waist, hooked into her belt loops, a body smoothed up her back. Ada looked down to see a cross and rose. "I don't know how private my bath would be, but you can have it, but there will be no bed to yourself."

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #a premonition of love #apol #chapter 8 #hinode

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oghoneytryst · 6 years

Text

fame.

request: harry is friends with y/n, a 17-year-old singer/musician who he can’t help but act like an older brother to and protect

where harry knows the industry more than y/n does

a/n: such an original title, I know. anyways, I got carried away with this, I thought it was very cute and I'm very tempted to make a second part. Harry and y/n are only friends in this!! There will be no type of romantic relationship whatsoever :)

also I start school tomorrow, rip...

“Here are the nominees for Best New Artist...”

Harry’s voice resonates throughout the venue, colossal screens beginning to merge into a colorful montage of talented musicians. With his hands properly folded behind his back, he manages to catch a glimpse of y/n, who lets out a nervous sigh before slinking further down into her seat.

“Don’t worry,” her publicist says from behind her, giving her shoulders a comforting squeeze. “You’ve got this.”

Y/n nods, but senses a slight shiver ripple through her body when her music video appears on the screens. It is comforting to know that her fans are supporting her in the audience tonight when cheers begin to roar across the sea of people. She even spots some of her life-long idols applauding for her music, which also includes her friend standing in front of the mic stand with an enclosed card caressed in his hands.

It’s surreal to know that the Harry Styles has become one of her most trusted friends since breaking into the crazy industry. In her bedroom at 13 years of age, she used to sing One Direction songs into her hairbrush while her mother was out grocery shopping. Tonight, four years later, her favorite member is sending her a reassuring smile despite the large crowd that stands between them.

She’s worked endlessly to be where she is tonight, sitting alongside the biggest names in the industry, nominated for this year’s Best New Artist at the VMA’s. Y/n has earned a name for herself in the past couple of years, but she believes tonight will determine whether or not she is on the right path to global success.

“And the VMA goes to...” The venue fills with a suspenseful silence as Harry attempts to rip through the enclosed card containing the winner.

People from the audience begin to shout out different nominees, and when a majority of them end up being y/n’s name, she senses a chill in her bones. She doesn’t want the whole nation to see her fail. She doesn’t want her family, friends, and fans to be disappointed in her.

Despite her self-doubt, the cheeky grin that Harry sends in her direction after reading the card lets her know that she has done something right.

“Y/n Y/l/n!”

Piercing screams and ear-shattering applause drowns the entire venue when y/n’s name is announced. Her hit single begins to blast through the speakers and even then, she cannot seem to believe that any of this is real. Raising slowly from her seat in shock, her accompanying family congratulates her with tight embraces and glistening eyes.

Don’t trip, don’t trip, don’t trip, y/n thinks to herself as she makes her way over to the stage. She touches hands with the fans reaching out to her from the sides, grabbing onto Harry’s outstretched hand when she makes it to the top of the stairs.

The audience goes into a little frenzy when the two embrace, Harry handing over the iconic Moon Man award given to him by one of the stagehands and shouting to her, “Congratulations, darling. I knew you’d win it!”

This feels like a dream. Y/n is at a loss for words and it takes Harry gently guiding her over to the mic stand for her to come to terms with the reality of her situation.

“Wow,” she breathes out, cradling the heavy award in her arms. “I can’t believe any of this is happening. First of all, thank you, Harry. I am so honored to be receiving this award from someone that I am lucky enough to call a friend...”

Harry chuckles at her shaking figure, nodding in appreciation while she rambles on with her speech. She goes on to thank every person from her team that comes to mind, apologizing in advance if she forgets to mention anybody. She expresses gratitude for her family that is supporting her tonight from the audience and at home. Of course, she does not forget to thank her fans over and over again, dedicating the award to them because, “without you, I am nothing.”

Her speech wraps up just as the music plays overhead, indicating that she is going over time. She waves a final goodbye to the audience, tangling her arm with Harry’s as they shuffle off to the backstage.

“Oh my god,” she groans, slapping her forehead with her empty hand. “That was so embarrassing. Why can’t I ever shut up?”

Harry laughs at her, wrapping his arms around her as they lean from side to side.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he tells her, placing his hands on her shoulder. “Lots of people take ages to wrap up their speech. At least yours was entertaining.”

“I doubt it.”

“Oh, c’mon, y/n. Stop being so hard on yourself. You’re the Best New Artist, you need to celebrate!”

In an immediate second, y/n’s entire face lights up when she is reminded of her accomplishment. She raises the Moon Man in her hand, cradling it like a baby and even going as far as to kiss the silver coating.

“I’m the Best New Artist!” she jumps from one leg to the other, earning chuckles from the people backstage. “Ugh, I can’t wait for the after party. I’m going to have so much fun!”

Harry’s smile diminishes at her words. “Wait, after party? What are you talking about?”

“You know...” y/n trails off, playfully shoving his shoulder. “The one at Taylor’s penthouse that everyone’s going to.”

“Taylor?” Harry repeats, eyebrows skyrocketing. “Swift?”

“Duh, what other Taylor is there?”

“W-What about your family? Are they also going to this after party?”

“They’re still tired from their flight here this morning,” y/n says with a wave of her hand. “They said they were going back to the hotel room after this.”

Harry looks down at her, puckering his lips in a pensive manner. “Mmm ... no,” he says with a shake of his head, “You’re not going.”

Y/n is busy inspecting her award when she hears Harry’s declaration. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not going to Taylor’s penthouse.”

“Says who?”

“Says me,” he childishly retaliates. “Y/n, you’re 17. You never know what goes on at parties like that.”

Y/n eyes him up and down. “Hmm, you would know,” she mumbles.

“S’cuse me. Are you ... taking a slag at me?” Harry asks, narrowing his eyes.

“I don’t know, Harry, who is Perfect about, huh?”

The older man sighs, pinching his nose in a way that y/n would say is very dramatic of him.

“You’re right,” he says, nodding his head. “I would know, which is why you should listen to me and learn from my mistakes.”

“But Harry—”

“Harry! Y/n! Let’s get a picture!”

Their conversation is interrupted by the photographers hired backstage, cameras at the ready while the two have no choice but to pose with each other. Flashes invade y/n’s eyes and though she tries very hard to keep them open, she can’t help but squint and hide herself behind her empty hand.

“Alright, I think that’s enough,” Harry politely suggests, nodding a quick thank you to the photographers before going back to his conversation. “Are you alright?”

Y/n blinks away the polychromatic dots stuck in her vision and eventually nods with reassurance. When she can finally see clearly once again, she catches Harry’s concerned expression and sighs.

“Fine,” she gives in, stubbornly hugging her award. “I won’t go to the after parties, but I still want to celebrate.”

“We can go to dinner then,” Harry suggests, smiling with self-gratification. “My treat. Does that sound about right?”

“Only if there’s karaoke involved. I have a legacy to live up to now, Styles!”

Y/n has to hand it to her publicist.

Her schedule is completely booked by the week following her big win at the VMA’s. She finds herself in the following months traveling all across the globe, featuring in dozens of magazines and having quick chats with late night talk show hosts. In the midst of all of this chaos, y/n has taken her free time to write some new material for her new album. It has been a hectic rollercoaster ride, but months later, she has finally found a place to rest.

When her friend Harry mentions to her that he is also visiting the wonderful state of New York, the two waste no time in making quick plans with each other. The last time y/n had seen Harry was the night he took her out to a celebratory dinner with their mutual friends, which also happened to be the last time she had the chance to let loose and relax.

While the past couple of months have been fun, they have also been extremely draining from the constant work that y/n has to put into her career now. She’s thankful for this opportunity, but she is a teenager after all, and she can’t be more relieved to have a short break before returning back to the chaos.

“Harry!” y/n shouts, running into her friend’s hotel suite and nearly knocking him off his feet from her sudden embrace. “It’s so good to see you!”

“You too, darling.” Harry laughs, scuffing his hand over her head of hair.

“Hey, hey, watch the hair!” she exclaims, pushing his tall figure away before fixing what he messed up.

“Oh, ‘m so sorry, miss diva, shall we call your stylist? Are you parched? Would you like a drink? Non-alcoholic, the drinking age is 21 here.”

Y/n glares at him, shaking her head at his cheeky smirk. “Ha-ha. Always the comedian, Styles.”

“I’m only jokin’.” Harry pauses, his expression suddenly turning very sincere. “I’m actually very proud of ya, y/n. I saw ya on Corden the other night. Before that, I could’ve sworn your face was plastered all over Times Square. You’re really taking the world by storm, as they say.”

Y/n feels her face heat up. She can’t help but suddenly turn shy at his kind words. She’s considered Harry as a sort of mentor for all of this fame that has been thrown her way, considering the two had met at the start of her career. To know that Harry is proud of her and all of her accomplishments is quite literally an accomplishment in itself.

“Wow. Thanks, Harry. That ... really means a lot.”

“I’m glad.” He nods, then claps his hands together. “Alright, so are we planning to go to the shops or what?”

“Of course. I’ve been dying to see how much self-control you lose when in the Gucci store.”

Y/n doesn’t know why it is surprising to her when she sees paparazzi swarming right outside the hotel entrance. It’s not as if she’d been incognito on her way up to Harry’s suite. It’s quite obvious that she had been spotted, and someone then tipped off the paps, but perhaps it is the large quantity of them that makes her a bit uneasy.

“Y/n, y/n! Over here!”

“Harry, when is the band getting back together?”

“Hey, y/n! How’s it going? Going out for a nice date with your boyfriend Harry?”

Amid the blinding flashes of cameras invading her personal space, y/n finds herself doing a double take at the pesky reporter’s question.

“Excuse me?” she questions, her bodyguard attempting to guide her and Harry to the remaining few feet to the car.

“Just keep walking, y/n,” Harry whispers, softly pulling on her arm in a desperate attempt to get away from the press.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” y/n laughs, finding it quite humorous that the media seems to think her friendship is anything more than amiable. Of course, she’s seen the fans speculating on social media, but she hopes her declaration is enough to leave the situation alone.

“Oh, right, weren’t you going out with Wes Anderson the other week?”

The shutters of cameras only seem to get more intense with that question. “What?” y/n scoffs, tilting her head at the ridiculous accusation.

“You were leaving his place, right? Late at night? Did you have fun?”

Y/n suddenly feels like she can’t breathe. She had been at Wes Anderson’s place, but she’d been having dinner with his family while the two discussed having her write a song for his new movie. She didn’t know the cameras had been watching her that day, and it makes her skin crawl to know that the media thinks she’s having an affair with someone almost three times her age.

“S’cuse me, do you have something better to do than harass a 17-year-old?” Harry speaks up, not even bothering to hear the pap’s excuse before leading y/n into the car.

He makes sure that she gets in before following after her, never feeling more relieved to shut the door on those pestering cameras. He knows he’s going to get media attention for his remark.

“Y/n,” he says, frowning at her shocked expression. “Are you alright?”

Y/n doesn’t speak. She’s replaying the question over and over again in her head. She can already imagine the nasty messages people must be leaving for her on social media. The thought disgusts her and suddenly the pressure building up inside of her in the last couple of months finally releases.

“Y/n,” Harry repeats, wanting to comfort her but also wanting to make sure she has some space to cool down. “Y/n, look at me. Listen to me, at least.”

The younger girl swallows harshly, blinking away the few tears that are threatening to fall. She scolds herself for being so ridiculous over a silly comment, but she’s noticed that silly comments seem to have large effects on careers like hers.

Harry sighs, pondering of what he can possibly say to her in this moment to make everything okay again.

“Being in this industry for quite some time now, I’ve learned that ... not everyone is as nice as you hope. These people with cameras, invading your privacy, they’re not all nice people. Sure, some of them are just trying to do their jobs, and some of them can be very respectful. But a lot of them will say just about anything to get a rise out of you.”

Y/n raises her head at this point, fiddling with her hands as she lets Harry continue with his rant.

“Take me for an example. Do you really think I’m some kind of ... womanizer?”

“No,” she immediately croaks out. She’s always hated that people have given Harry that disgusting label. “You’re not.”

“And you’re not whatever vile things they make up about you. I know that, your friends know that, your family, your fans ... anyone that’s lucky enough to know you know that that isn’t you. But at the end of the day, all that matters is that you know that too.”

Y/n forces a smile, feeling a weight lift off her chest from Harry’s reasonable words. “Thanks,” she mutters, unable to resist giving her friend a kind hug of appreciation. “It’s just hard to ignore them, you know?”

“I know,” Harry agrees, patting her back softly. “Trust me, it won’t get any easier, but you’ll eventually learn that silence is key, especially if you want them to take a really nice candid of you.”

“Can’t I just give them the middle finger and call it a day?”

“Oh yeah, ‘m sure TMZ will love that.”

Y/n chuckles, pulling away from her friend and bucking her seatbelt. While the situation still has her a little on the edge, she feels alleviated from Harry’s pep talk. It is true that the world she has been thrown in at such a young age is quite intense, but she’s grateful that she has someone like Harry to protect her from it all.

#honeytryst

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