h3adcarsbending - Tumblr blog

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this is cringe and bad but oh well heres a 90s noel gallagher blurb i wrote at 3 last night

Noel always looked so ruggedly immaculate, so angelically gorgeous, but especially so in the morning when the sunlight hit every angle and curve of his visage perfectly, painting his features with a bright golden glow, in the midst of his dreams about God knows what.

He was so delicately beautiful held captive in a peaceful slumber perhaps because he was so at ease, so vulnerable. Like the songs he’d only play for you, timid acoustic numbers with lyrics that tugged and stretched and pulled your heartstrings every which way on the basis that he’d torn his own out of his chest and displayed every chamber, ligament, nook and cranny in a glass box just to show you how much, how deeply and truly he loved you. As outspoken as he was - notoriously so - he had trouble opening up in even the most intimate of exchanges at times, especially to new partners, but he found that penning down his thoughts and feelings on a piece of looseleaf and transforming the bare poetry into beautiful music was a proper outlet. He’d made a career out of it, after all. You found him so captivating when he played you those little tunes, and ogling at the sleeping beauty whose limbs fit together so perfectly with your own reminded you of that same sort of sensitivity. He didn’t have to put up a front when he slept... his raw, blissful naivete, although temporary, was quite magnetic.

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t attractive when he woke up, though. Because he was - he always was, annoyingly so - but he was especially adorable when he stirred, subconsciously pulling you a little closer to his chest, sharing his warmth. And everytime he opened his eyes and met your own, smiling so big his eyes creased, whispering a soft ‘mornin, love’ before planting a gentle, heavenly kiss on your lips, you melted like ice cream left out in the blistering heat. You may as well have been, though, because he was your very own ray of sunshine.

The same lips that met yours so wonderfully, sang melodies that changed millions of lives, that made a muttered ‘fuck’ sound so endearing. They barely moved, barely made a sound, just hung slightly agape as he let out warm, shallow breaths. And you could watch them forever.

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Blur live at Pavelló de la Vall d'Hebron in Barcelona (10 May 1997) photos by Xavier Mercadé [X]

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secret door - alex turner x reader (humbug era)

hiii sorry i havent posted in lightyears idk if any of u like arctic monkeys but heres an alex fic bc ive been having an AM phase lately! 1975 content soon i promise, im so sorry i never post my mental health has been pretty bad for a while now :( idk if this is any good and its relatively short but i tried LOL

WC: 524

Synopsis: Alex writes you a song. Fluff ensues.

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You strolled into your flat - the one you shared with your beloved boyfriend of two years - and closed the door behind you with a quiet click, removing your worn out ebony sneakers from your feet and not really caring enough in your drowsy state to put them where they belonged on the shoe rack.

“Al? I’m home, baby,” you called, assuming the boy in question would be sat in the parlor - you received no response, but you did hear the soft strumming of an acoustic guitar coming from the bedroom. You followed the sound of the music, sneaking down your carpeted hallway to peer into the room through the open door. You watched Alex as he sat on the edge of the bed, writing down what you presumed were lyrics as he hummed and mumbled along to the riff he played on his guitar. It was pretty; gentle and melodic. He and his bandmates had yet to finish the new album, but you’d heard bits of the completed material, and found you eminently enjoyed it despite how different it was from the first two projects.

“Fools on parade, cavot and- fuck,” Alex cursed, seemingly frustrated at himself for having played the wrong note. He tucked a strand of long brown hair behind his ear and sat the guitar down before looking up and meeting eyes with you - he blushed, flashing you a sheepish grin. “Hi, love… um, I didn’t realize yeh were back.”

You smiled, moving to sit beside him and rest your head on his shoulder. “Whatcha working on?”

“I fink it’s called Secret Door,” he replied, curling an arm snug around your waist. “I’ve got most of it done.”

“Can I hear?” you moved your head to face him, meeting his beautiful chocolatey gaze with your own. “Please? It sounds really pretty.”

He shook his head in objection and gave you a small, vaguely pitiful smile when you pouted at his response, kissing your forehead as if to apologize. “Yeh can ‘ear it when the album’s out. It’s a surprise.”

“But you let me hear everything else!” you glared in mock anger. “What’s so special about it? Everything you do is amazing, Alex, but… I really wanna listen to it.”

“S’about you, that’s why.” He brought you into his lap and placed long-fingered hands on your shoulders, rubbing them lightly. “Be patient, babeh. Dunno ‘ow romantic it is… but I tried for yeh.”

You smiled, your flattery visible when pink dusted your cheeks, and after whispering a small ‘I love you’ you connected your lips with his, the two of you melting into the kiss as your hands roamed each other’s bodies. Alex pulled away to catch his breath and tucked your hair behind your ear. “I love yeh too.” He laid down, pulling you with him, shifting onto his side and bringing you close. 

Your bodies soon melted together into a warm entanglement of limbs, the line where Alex ended and you began practically indiscernible. The two of you laid there and cuddled for what felt like hours before drifting off in each other’s arms. You recalled dreaming of his song.

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looking at my own playlists like how did u know i love that song…

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L I P S 🔥💣😍

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The 1975 - People 

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lose my faith x graham coxon

*very very angsty*

warning: lil bit of unwanted touching, alcohol, and abuse 

https://youtu.be/Chcy9K6ywjA this song inspired this <3

i hate the way i love too look at him why can’t i see he doesn’t need me. he only needs cigarettes and alcohol. he needed the things that make him numb, but i was not that. i made him feel things he told me. i made him feel the things he is scared of the most. id look at him but i couldn’t see the man i once knew, the one with sparkling puppy eyes, art supplies always colorful, and a humming a pretty tune. now all i can see is dull droopy eyes, red and puffy, colorless art with scary undertones, and the hum of tune sounding like radiohead. 

sitting in this room by myself was torture. bruises littered my legs and scratches on my arms.

they always tell me to get help, get out of something so toxic. but i knew he loved me deep down. the only part of him that didn’t love me was the alcohol.

i heard a light knock on the door, i knew he had sobered up. when he was still drunk the knocks would be bangs. the door was locked so i crept up from my corner in the room to let him in.

light peaked through the door as i had shut out all the lights in the room. the only light other than the hall was the haunting 3am moonlight.

his hair was messy and eyes lidded. he had just stopped stomping around the house, throwing anything in reach.

as he came in he fell into my shoulder. his head dropped low to my level. i could smell the poison on his lips. i felt his body jolt, i knew he was crying.

i walked him over to the bed to let him down. i took off his shoes then his jacket, i did this at least 4 times a week.

but i loved him and would do anything for him.

“you won’t leave me, right?” he said in a broken raspy voice, “i’ll get better, i promise”

i didn’t know how to respond, how many times could i hear him say he’d get better yet still see no change.

“just lay down” i whispered.

i knew he had a big gig tomorrow and i was just hoping it would go different this time. 

          𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁    

before we sat in the car we were at grahams gig at princess charlotte, a crowd full of beautiful strangers. at the gig we sat in the green room, graham wasn’t in the room. he stepped out to use the bathroom while i was sat with his band mate damon. he held a cigarette between his fingers, and was looking at my legs. 

“what happened to you” he said in his mockney voice as he pointed to my bruises.

i felt my face loose all color, i wasn’t sure what to say. 

“eh, we all fall over when we’re drunk” he laughed. i felt a wave of relief and just in time as graham walked in. he already had a bottle in hand as he strolled over. he wrapped his arm around my waist, any other time it would feel nice. but now i feel scared that he will do something that will show damon what’s going on and that he will take graham away from me.

as the rest of the members came in graham and i hid in the back on the couch. he kept looking at me and i soon saw damon catch on. 

“stop” i whispered as graham started to grab my leg.

“oh have some fun” he said, but it wasn’t him. it wasn’t my graham.

damon looked over with worried eyes, just faked smiled slightly. graham noticed and shook his head. 

“you got smthin for D now too” he slurred.

“graham-” i wishperd once again.

“no tell me, i know you don’t want me. i’m a drunk piece of shit” he stood up and looked down on me. i felt small as i looked up at him. 

damon stood up, i could tell he was starting to get worried also.

“boys its time to go on stage” a man spoke into the room.

graham looked back at me as he walked away, damon did the same. but their eyes were not the same. 

they did great up on stage, the first hour of him being drunk was always him being light and fun. but now its been two hours and he’s tired and dissacocated.

we had just got into the car after the gig. i turned my head to face the window as i couldn’t stand looking at him. i tried to watch the rain but it’s hard to see through the tears in my eyes. he was the reason i was crying, he did this every time.

he’d fight me for the keys to the car no matter how much a told him no. but if i didn’t he’d hurt me. but it was only when he was drunk that he’d touch me like that. otherwise he was gentle and made me feel like the luckiest women in the world.

the rain started to get faster and louder. then i saw the trees were starting to speed up. i looked to graham worried, he had a straight face. i looked at the speed we were almost going 100mph.

“slow down why are you rushing” i said starting to panic.

“shut up” 

“what-” i whispered as a felt my throat start to ache with ever waiting tears.

“just shut the fuck up” he said the vile, scary sentence in such a monotone voice.

our arguments always ended up like this, him yelling me crying. he was always in control when he was in this state of mind he was always the one yelling. i was always so submissive and felt as though i couldn’t fight back, i was too weak. 

the whole ride was a horror show and it felt like i death trip. we pulled into the drive way of our appertment. i started to feel a bit more scared, i didnt want to be alone with him again. 

he turned off the car and sat still for a minute looking foward, i stared at him. he started to rub his eyes and hair. 

“whats wrong with me?” he said in a broken voice, “why cant i just get better” 

i watched as a tear ran down his face, it broke me. his crying was always so meaningful. i was one of the only person who ever saw it, he didnt like show his weakness infront of others. 

“im not sure graham, i really do miss you, the real you. the one who dosent hurt me the way this graham does” 

for the first time in weeks he looked up at me in the eyes, they were so dull so colorless. but for the first time in a while i saw a sparkle. 

“lets just go inside” 

as we walked in i went straight to our room, him following after. he layed down and i took his shoes off for him. i came into bed and after a minute of laying there he knocked out. my tears came out then, i miss him so much. we keep doing this every night. i want him back but i cant listen to him say he wants to get better every night. its getting too hard. i miss him so much. 

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Matty Healy // Pittsburgh

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I see her online, don’t think that I should be calling all the time / I just wanted a happy ending

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Dear friends of Tumblr,

Today at my school we had an assembly about internet predators and when I had said that most of my true friends are over the internet and they gave me a lecture about how “I don’t know who I’m talking to” blah blah. So please, if you aren’t a predator in any way, please reblog so i can prove a point.

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matty healy lockscreens

like or reblog if you save

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anyway...i’d die for van mccann

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why am i not some musician’s cute girlfriend who takes pictures backstage at gigs and hangs around with the rest of his band and looks really fashionable and makes all his little fangirls jealous i hate everything

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not to be controversial but......i wanna make it my business.........i wanna tolerate drunk you honey...........i wanna make it my problem.........

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i’m working on the first part of a series!! it’s very slightly cursed but i’m having lots of fun with it lmao.