#i want to write you a song

[losing-my-mind-in-the-mirror]

Niall I’m challenging you to play I want to write you a song on tour.

[roseanddagger-28]

Seems to be a tradition now that I mess up one poll and accidentally set the duration for one day instead of a week. So here we go again

Ultimate Song Competition: One Direction edition

All of Round 2 battles

Please reblog to boost

[ljf613]

I want to lend you my coat One that's as soft as your cheek So when the world is cold You will have a hiding place you can go I want to lend you my coat

Everything I need I get from you Giving back is all I want to do

- "I Want to Write You a Song" by One Direction

Another one for @raayllum

["City of Angels"] ["Someone has to leave first"] ["you know what they say about monsters"] ["Brothers on a Hotel Bed"] ["Different Kind of Beautiful"]

[malahierba-en-mal-lugar]

Quiero construirte un bote

Uno así de fuerte como tu libertad

Así, cada vez que pienses que tu corazón se ahogará, sabrás que no lo hará

Quiero construirte un bote

[diosanoturix]

I want to write you a song and if I could fly are the sun-moon best friends that met in therapy

[moonstarrdreams]

“ Just a hint of pain for the feeling that I get when you are gone. ”

- One Direction, I Want To Write You a Song.

[i-dont-get-sarcasm]

harry wrote i want to write you a song for made in the am as a goodbye to one direction and at the last show of Love on tour he said "I wanted to write a song just for you" and sat on the piano for 12 minutes ;-;

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Master manipulator vs Master manipulator

 [First] Prev <–-> Next

[phonydiaries]

Beautiful Dreamer - P x Reader

Notes: This is a bit of a shorter fic from me and it's pure unadulterated fluff and sap and nobody gets stabbed! Which is really stretching myself as a writer, to be honest. You guys know I love nothing more than a good life-threatening injury. Anyways, no warnings for this one! Enjoy the cozy vibes <3 

---

It seemed somewhat magical in the beginning. 

Pino came running to you once, at the very break of dawn when you had just barely opened your eyes; too-bright sunlight stinging them as the puppet shook you from sleep. It was difficult for you to grasp what he meant, at first, to wrap your head around what he was trying to describe. His speechless manner of communication and your general grogginess certainly didn’t help matters. But through a series of signs and expressions from Pinocchio, you came to understand. In his slow but sure gaining of humanity the boy had begun to dream at night. 

You were vaguely aware that he did not dream before, and didn’t exactly sleep in the way humans did (although he did something similar enough that you personally couldn’t tell the difference). 

“Is it… pleasant?” You asked him, genuinely quite curious as to what a strange thing dreams must seem to someone who had never known them. It had the potential to be wondrous and peaceful, but at the same overwhelming and utterly confusing. P seemed to take your question into careful consideration, really mulling it over. His eyes shone bright as he finally nodded decisively. 

For all his excitement over this newfound ability, Pinocchio was frankly dreadful in his attempts at describing his dreams to you. You tried earnestly to follow along, but his gestures and expressions would eventually become too complicated and frenetic for you to follow and so you found yourself utterly lost in his recollections. It was after one such frustrating night that you gifted him a pocket journal to write in. This was much preferred for both of you, and you came to enjoy the routine of him eagerly handing off his scribblings for you to interpret in the morning. You would sit elbow to elbow at the table, sipping morning tea and reading his writing aloud, while he listened and nodded along captivated, his chin resting over his hands on the table. 

His writing was uncharacteristically scratchy, with words often misspelled or crossed out implying that he was simply transcribing for speed and not coherence. Now and then there would be an addition of a crude drawing, sometimes the vague outline of a rabbit or a rushed impression of beaming stars. 

One day, when it was particularly gloomy, you and Pino wandered to the library. Silence between the two of you was not uncommon, nor was it in any way awkward or uncomfortable. With the heavy fall of rain against the roof on this day, you found the quiet between the shelves especially peaceful. By the orange glow of a lantern, you turned the pages of a dream-interpretation guide. It was a small and somewhat battered thing and had been picked up eagerly by Pinocchio of course, who sat on the floor with crossed legs, chin resting in the heels of his hands as he listened to you, enthralled. In hushed tones, you ran down bulleted lists of common dreams and all the cryptic mysteries they may contain. 

“Here, how about this one, have you ever dreamed that your teeth were falling out?” You asked, pointing to a passage in the book. P slapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head vigorously, looking suddenly very concerned with keeping said teeth firmly in his mouth. You couldn’t help chucking as you turned the page. 

The day wore on, and the oil in your lantern burned down to nothing, the dim light flickering across an eerie illustration. You’d been leafing through an art book of the romantic era painters and left off on a Fuseli painting of a tormented woman being peered upon unknowingly by some manner of devil. You found the page quite off putting honestly, and closed the book. 

“I figure that’s enough of that. What do you say, Pino-oh.” 

As you addressed your puppet companion in the dark, you came to see that he sat on the floor still, slumped against the foot of your chair. His cheek was sunk into his left shoulder, eyes shut, breathing soft and shallow. The serenity of the scene warmed your heart some, and you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Pino…” you whispered, and ran a hand through his hair in an effort to wake him. But he didn’t stir, seemingly in a deep sleep. You were sorry for the uncomfortable condition he seemed to be posed in, but you didn’t want to disturb the poor puppet. You gathered your things and left quietly, shuffling off to your quarters. 

It was around midnight that the puppet woke with a panicked gasp. He was surprised to find his legion arm held up defensively, as if in anticipation of an invisible attack. His eyes searched his surroundings frantically, and only when he recognized the library did he hesitantly lower his arm. In the darkness he felt quite uneasy and disoriented. He tried to recall your soothing hushed voice. It had put him into quite a state it seemed before he eventually drifted off. It was in stark contrast to the current thrumming of his mechanical heart and the uncomfortable quickness of his breaths. He had dreamed something wholly unpleasant, and with some sadness realized this new facet of humanity came with drawbacks. He did not care much for these dreams at all.

Pinocchio made his way down the corridor to your quarters, his steps echoing eerily. He threw pointed glances over his shoulder frequently, half expecting some monstrous creature to appear suddenly in the halls of Hotel Krat. The simple casting of shadows had never before made him so on-edge. When he reached your room, he opened the door slowly and peered inside. You lay there in the dark beneath silk sheets, curled in on yourself and sleeping soundly. With great care not to startle you, he knelt by your bedside and nudged you in the back. Your head flinched momentarily, but you otherwise remained still. With some urgency he took your shoulder and shook until you stirred. Rubbing your eyes wearily, you rolled over to face him. 

“Pino, it’s ah…it’s late isn’t it? Can’t it wait til morning..?” You grumbled. He shook his head almost apologetically and squeezed your shoulder. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you were able to make out unfamiliar anxious creases in his expression. You willed yourself into a greater awareness and sat up promptly. “What is it, what’s wrong?” You asked, your tone softening significantly. P gestured in the direction of the library and rummaged around in his pocket for a moment. He retrieved the pocket journal you’d given him and pointed several times at the most recent entry. You squinted. On the left page he had simply blacked out the entire thing with a pen, and on the right page the phrase “strung up” was written several frantic times with increasing disregard for legibility. 

When you looked up at him to clarify, he raised his hands limp above his head and dropped his chin to his chest. The image was admittedly shuddersome and he cast a long and spindly shadow across the wall. 

“I see.” You said, closing the journal. “You had a nightmare, hm? All strung up like an ordinary puppet.” Your heart fell for the poor boy. It must’ve been terribly frightening for him. 

Pinocchio nodded solemnly, not meeting your eyes. He stared off blankly and rubbed his wrists, as if easing a phantom feeling of restraints. You took note of this and hummed softly. 

“Here, may I see?” You asked, and pulled his arm towards you. You made a show of inspecting it and tapping your chin thoughtfully. Holding his arm with one hand, you stuck up two fingers like a pair of scissors and pretended to snip the invisible puppet string. You repeated this mimic on his other arm and then took his hands in yours, placing a kiss on the back of each. 

“All gone.” 

Pinocchio looked at you with a kind of boyish wonder. He raised one fist to the crown of his head with a smile, making a  pshhh sound and opening his hand, giving the impression of a miniature explosion.

“Think you’ll be alright for the rest of the night?”

At this he shifted a little. His fingers busied themselves, twisting in the bedsheets. He was obviously still shaken up somewhat. You could understand that, although it was a bit of a surprise to learn that someone so nearly indestructible could be afraid of the dark. 

“Alright,” you sighed, lifting the sheets. “Get in here.” 

P’s chin jutted forward and his brow furrowed at your offer. You just gestured to the space beside you with your head. “Go on, before I change my mind.” You teased. At this, Pinocchio clambered up into your bed and nuzzled his face into the pillow. As he got settled. You pulled the sheet over his shoulders and snaked your arm up around him from behind. Your nose pressed against the nape of his neck and you breathed in the smell of him, like fresh rain. 

“Have no fear, my puppet.” You said sleepily against his skin. “Your trusty human won’t let anything steal you away from me in the night.” You heard him snicker at this, but you knew without a doubt he felt safer here with you and vice versa. It was sweet, really. 

By the time the sun rose you were both still sound asleep, all tangled in each other’s limbs, looking like lovers in the warm morning light. The day could wait a little longer. 

[roseanddagger-28]

Ultimate Song Competition: One Direction edition

All of Round 1 battles

Please reblog to boost

[clockwards]

truly genuinely fascinating watching s3ep20 House Training with the Wilson stuff. He really is just like that. Hes genuine. He takes women to lunch and plays and museums and does it with a smile on his face and not an ounce of bad intent. And he does it again. And they fall in love because he's so affably kind and senselessly caring and he blinks those big brown eyes at them and lets it happen. He lets it happen. He does know what he's doing. Because he is all about other people's love, other people's pleasure, and just like House he finds some eternal, niggling curiosity about /why/. So he figures it out, he follows this new woman's footsteps and lays out the red carpet until theres nothing left but a thread.

There is one red thread Wilson pulls to make everything and it is connected straight to House. Tug of war, babey.

[coolnonsenseworld]

(this is part of the calendar 2024 lore, now on pre-order, to know more check out prev posts)

April was Keith's idea of relaxation. He enjoyed parks, the feng shui of them, nature's ability to thrive despite and against anything happening - the silence of it. Watching Keith wind down and relax when he is a strung wire most of the time, would definitely make Lance feel all lovey-dovey and clingy (as he tends to get) and when he’d worry he is disturbing, Keith would comment this is exactly how it should be - the constant yin to his yang, and the yang when he feels yin.

Also - both shirt and hoodie are Keith's (he has way too many hoodies with quotes). Lance took the hoodie for Keith, but Keith insisted he won’t get cold, so he wore it himself. On the way home Lance funds Keith the biggest sushi serving he could find on the menu, and, believe me, nothing lights up Keith's eyes like a table full of rice and algae. Lance just watches with a soft smile. (Keith does end up getting cold)

[spllwys]

"Hiding from the light, sacrificing nothing; still you call on me, for entrance to the shrine." ⛧ Ghost — Square Hammer [source]

"At the end of the day, one of the biggest misconceptions of Ghost is that it's just about the devil. It's always been about mankind and living." — Tobias Forge [source] "There is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans, that the moment one definitely commits oneself that Providence moves, too. Whatever you can do or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now." — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe [source]

[uhohwhathaveidone]

I'm on me knees begging for a Sebastian x Slytherin reader

Your wish is my command <3

Lay Your Head on my Shoulder (S.S)

A fluffy fic, not angst like yesterday! Reader is gender neutral, with no gender roles applied. (No they/them!). No spoilers for this one either! Just three friends being buddies (Two of them are in love with each other and the other one just enjoys listening to them banter). I hope you enjoy! I'm off to grab pudding now <3

      The moment you came into the sorting ceremony, hair a mess and outfit covered in dust and dirt, Sebastian knew he wanted to get to know you. How many times do new students show up late for the ceremony? Even more, how many students show up to Hogwarts in their fifth year, and late! He watched you hurry to the front of the room, too busy to see everyone’s eyes on you. He nudged Ominis with his shoulder, whispering, “They’ve got to be a Slytherin. What other house would show up late to their own sorting?” Ominis furrowed his brows in confusion, he didn’t know there was someone late coming in. Sebastian watched, mesmerized, as the sorting hat was placed on your head. He couldn’t quite hear what the hat was saying, but it looked like he was really pondering which house to put you in. “Oh well, it seems like you will be a good fit in Slytherin!” Sebastian smiled in triumph and applauded alongside his fellow students, watching you as you walked down the small steps and following Professor Weasley.

      “This is your common room, the Slytherin Commons. Here, you will get to know your fellow housemates. I’m sure you will find what little items you brought with you on your bed.” Professor Weasley said, motioning to the wall. You looked in awe and confusion as the two serpents moved smoothly along the wall and formed a door, welcoming you in. You nodded in the direction of the professor and stepped inside. The room was dim, and the walls were cobbled, like a basement or a dungeon. You looked around, taking in the details around you before making your way to where everyone slept. You passed by a student, who pointed you in the direction of where your bed would be, and you headed over. “What little items you have” was an understatement. All you really brought was yourself and the clothes on your back, but on your bed lay a bundle of green and black, your uniform and robes.

      Once you had gotten changed and comfortable, you ventured out and back to the commons, given the task of talking to those in your house. You had only made it to the opening of the big room when Sebastian showed up by your side. “Hello there, I’m Sebastian.” He held his hand out, and you took it. He pointed to the figure behind him, “This is Ominis.” You looked past Sebastian, finding the boy who only waved. You told them your name as Sebastian led you to one of the couches. “So, tell us. Were you actually almost swallowed by a dragon?” Sebastian asks, a smile on his lips. You nodded softly, still looking around. “How did you manage to do that?” You could only shrug, explaining, “It just appeared out of the sky. It chased us and eventually bit our carriage in half and then knocked us out of it.” Sebastian looked at you in wonder, his chocolate eyes twinkling. “How did you survive? Surely you were high up, there would be no way someone would have survived a fall like that.” You shook your head, pressing a finger to your lips. “That’s a secret.”

      You became quick friends with Sebastian and Ominis. Sebastian had accompanied you on your trip to Hogsmeade to get new supplies, and even bought you a few items, ones that he swore you needed, but you could tell they weren’t part of the supply list. He even invited you to join his dueling club, after you sent him to the ground during your first duel, one that he called a “Proper Hogwarts Welcome.” You walked over to him and offered your hand, and he gladly took it. In that moment, he asked you to join the club. You had accepted, of course, what better way to practice spells? Sebastian also wanted to help you catch up on all that you missed to make sure you were prepared for the O.W.L.S. That was when Sebastian suggested a study group, and invited Ominis to join you.

      You turned the page and picked up your quill, jotting down information that you deemed important as you read. You looked over to Sebastian, who had gone off topic talking about all the times he tried a simple bubble charm, how they would burst within a second, and how he couldn’t figure out how to make it work. “You’d think it would be easy for you, since you’re already a bubble brain.” You joked, putting your quill down. Sebastian turned to you, lips formed into a pout. You were sitting next to each other on the couch, the same one he had sat you down on to bombard you with questions on your first day. He swatted at you, missing as you scooted quickly away. Sebastian turned his head back to Ominis, trying to continue his conversation, only to be met with Ominis silently holding a laugh at your comment. “Not you too, Ominis!” You took this moment to pick your quill up once again, pointing the feather in Sebastian’s direction. Quickly, you jumped him, using the feather of your quill to tickle him where he was vulnerable, his neck. “Hey!” Sebastian proceeded to try to take your quill away, grabbing at your wrists and poking you in the sides, causing you to let go. “Aww, no fair.” You pouted, watching Sebastian place your quill far away so you couldn’t reach it. “This is completely fair, and besides, you started it.” He said, smirking. You huffed in response, “I need that to take notes.” “Should have thought about that before you went and lost your quill privileges.”

      You had settled down, stuck reading from your book and trying to memorize what you were reading. You constantly looked over at Sebastian, hoping to find a moment where he was preoccupied so you could grab your quill back. Each time you looked over, however, Sebastian met your eyes. A faint warmth spread to your cheeks each time and you buried your nose back into the book in your hands. Sebastian smiled softly each time you would hurry to get back into the book, continuing to read aloud the chapter you were going over.

      “So, this transfiguration spell says that, if used correctly, you could turn a teapot into a…tortoise?” Sebastian read out, confusion written all over his face. You looked around, searching for a teapot. “I don’t see one anywhere. Perhaps we could use something else?” You asked, leaning over Sebastian’s shoulder, to look at the picture on the page. Sebastian was grateful that you were more interested in the book than anything else, or you would have seen his face light up at the sudden contact. “We could use Sebastian. He’s like a teapot, no?” Ominis offered, a smile growing on his face. You nodded quickly, pushing Sebastian against the back of the couch and raising your wand. “Wait! Why me? First off,” Sebastian started, eyes wide. “I am nothing like a teapot!” You raised an eyebrow, “But you made us tea just a bit ago. That’s the same thing.” Ominis nodded, taking the moment to reach for his own tea. “Precisely, this tea in my hand didn’t magically appear.” Sebastian scoffed as he turned his attention back to you. You had stood up and moved in front of him, book in one hand and wand in the other. “Let’s see…so I wave my wand like this.” You flailed your wand up, squinting to read the next step. “Can we just talk about this? I really don’t want to be a tortoise, even for a moment!” Sebastian panicked, unsure if you were actually willing to cast the spell on him.

      Ominis took a sip of his tea, brows furrowed. “There’s another spell about it, so we should be able to turn you back pretty quickly.” You nodded as you turned the page, looking for the other spell. “Hmm. No, that’s how to turn a teacup into a tortoise. I don’t think you can actually turn the tortoise back into a teapot once it’s done.” You spoke, looking closely at the page. Sebastian sighed in relief. “Oh well. We could keep him as a pet.” You said, closing the book and readying your wand. Sebastian had to think quickly, it didn’t seem like you were pretending anymore. Quickly, he lunged forward and grabbed you by the waist, throwing you onto the couch and stealing your wand. Ominis sat there, tea still in hand, listening to the commotion, not quite sure what was going on, but the shriek you let out and the sound of the couch being disturbed told him you probably had been taken down. “I refuse to be your pet tortoise!” Sebastian shouted, throwing a pillow at you. Covering your face, you shouted back, “We would feed you three times a day! And make sure you actually took baths!” Sebastian paused, another pillow in his hand, raised. “What do you mean “Actually took baths”?!” You laughed to yourself, finding it rather funny that he took offense to such a small statement. “Probably because you smell like ash. All the time. Like you take ash baths or something.” Ominis quipped, placing his tea down. Sebastian scoffed, dropping the pillow. “I’ll have you know that I do bathe. I just naturally smell nice!” He sat down, arms crossed. You sat up, moving the pillow he threw at you and putting it behind your back. “Sure, you do.”

      You grabbed your book once again, flipping to the page you were on. “Hey, Sebastian?” You asked, looking over to the still pouting Slytherin. He huffed in response, turning to you. You put on your best smile, and used your favourite tactic against him; puppy dog eyes. “Can I please have my quill back? Please?” You asked, looking directly into his eyes. He stuttered, and you could have sworn he blushed, but that meant that it was working. “Uh- you- yeah, sure.” He handed your quill back and you thanked him, patting his head teasingly. Ominis hid a smirk, knowing exactly what had just happened. You happily held your quill and began writing down information once again. Sebastian sat, stunned. He cleared his throat and turned back to his own book.

      You had been going through the chapter for what seemed like hours. Your eyes had begun to get heavy, and you stifled a yawn as you put your quill down. Sebastian had begun trying to explain another spell, which was puzzling him, yet again. Another quiet yawn, you scooted closer to look at his book instead. Sebastian didn’t seem to notice. Your eyes grew heavier as you struggled to keep them open, opting to rest your head on Sebastian’s shoulder to keep you upright. Sebastian noticed this and stiffened up. This could be one of your pranks, he thought. He continued to read out the spell incantation.

      “Titillando, says it’s a tickling hex. You better watch out, you never know when I’ll hit you with it now that I know it.” Sebastian joked, raising the shoulder you had rested your head on. You didn’t respond, shifting a little bit instead. Sebastian waited for you to say something back, the only sound now was the crackling of the fire in the hearth. “Hey, did you hear me?” He asked once again, titling his head to hit you with his own. You sniffled in response, burying your nose into his robes. Truth be told, Sebastian was probably the one that made you fall asleep. Not because he was boring, oh no. He had a calming voice, and although you had teased him earlier about baths, you had to admit that he did smell nice. Those two factors, paired with the mixed warmth of the fire and body heat from Sebastian, knocked you out in minutes, breathing softly as you dreamed about whatever your mind could come up with.

      Sebastian froze, now aware that you were asleep, worried that any movement he may wake you. As if headbutting you didn’t do the trick, surely if he even breathed too hard, you’d wake up. He took the moment to look at your face. He watched as the light from the fire danced on your skin, and how your cheek had squished against his shoulder, the sound that you made now that you were practically suffocating yourself after shoving your nose deeper into his robes. He let out the breath he was holding, slowly relaxing his shoulders. He took a final look at your face before turning his head back to Ominis. “Asleep, typical.” He said, turning the page. “Anyway, where were we?”

      The next morning, you met Sebastian and Ominis at the door of the common room, ready to make your routine walk to the dining hall. Sebastian led the way, not taking much of a moment to look at you. Still groggy, you brushed it off, walking next to Ominis and yawning. “For someone that fell asleep in the middle of our study session, you still seem to be tired.” He stated, smiling. You furrowed your brows, “I fell asleep during our study?” Ominis nodded, pointing to Sebastian. “I’m pretty sure you fell asleep on Mr. Tortoise. He had to carry you up to your bed last night.” Your dormmates must have helped him find your bed; your cheeks heated up at the thought. You thought back to before you fell asleep, a foggy image of leaning on Sebastian to look at his book forming in your mind. Your cheeks grew hotter at the realization. You were quiet the rest of the walk to the dining hall.

      Taking your seat next to Sebastian, you reached for something to eat. The food of your choice just so happened to be on the other side of Sebastian, and you took a moment to formulate a plan. You could just ask Sebastian to grab it for you, or just get up and grab it yourself. Or, you could be annoying and try to reach over him, in turn causing you to probably embarrass yourself, and probably Sebastian. It was the perfect plan. Taking a breath, you leaned up against Sebastian, reaching across him. He stiffened, eyes wide as you turned your body and put your head back on his shoulder, using the arm that was now next to Sebastian to reach farther. You smiled and hummed in triumph as your fingers curled around your target, retracting your arm and turning back in your seat. Sebastian stood there, stunned. You continued to smile as you began to eat. Regaining his composure, Sebastian fixed his robes and cleared his throat. “If you needed me to grab something for you, all you had to do was ask.” He said, keeping his face turned from you to hide the red that had taken over his whole face. You hummed in response, taking another bite. “And miss a moment to have a pillow? Not a chance.” Sebastian shook his head and finally turned his head towards you. “You can just ask, you know?” You titled your head and raised an eyebrow. “Ask what?” Sebastian took a moment to collect his thoughts, before finally breathing out, “To lay your head on my shoulder. I won’t complain.” You smiled, taking the moment to do just that.

[sadmages]

Well sure maybe he was one of the orchestrators of the evil absolute plot that's going to end the world but you don't have to be so meanies to him :(