#sorry lads i’m high as FUCK listening to this song and i had to get this outta my brain

[tamingicarus]

when i was like 17, i absolutely loathed the lyrics “you loved what you loved / because you loved it” in american candy

it was like, uh. yeah lol. that’s pretty obvious

but now it’s been a couple of years and i’ve went to therapy grown more reflective and kell played it on the car speaker and it was like… of course ..

and looking over at my wife, recognizing how much more comfortable in my mind i am, thinking of the softness with which i now regard the world—a beautiful cacophony of chaos and love and so much to explore—

i absolutely love these lyrics. of course i love what i love!!! simply because i love it!!!!

i love the sun coming up in the morning bc the sky turns pink! i love our animals because they’re cute and spunky and unique and ours! i love daisies bc they’re my mom’s and my grandma’s favorite flowers! and i love painting i love writing i love being alive in this moment, in this feeling

there doesn’t have to be any deeper meaning but there can be if you love symbolism!! the love i feel for my wife is so deep and complex and yet it all translates into that glowing feeling and i know that it’s all i need. if you pay attention to what you love and chase that — love purely for the sake of love — you will be so free

[aelingalathyniusrailme]

'Hello life ruiner' 'oh calm down that was years ago and your life doesn't look that ruined to me' for Lucien and Eris?

ok so sorry this took me so long but here it is. I kind of went for a Damon/Stefan Esque vibe so hope you enjoy

A knock on the door had eris up from bed too early.

“Are you kidding me?” his lover asked. Their time together was rare as they were typically both occupied during this time of day, setting aside a few hours a week to make time for each other.

“I’m sorry love, I’ll be back to bed soon, and” eris smirked. “We’ll finish what we started.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“I’m counting on it” Eris quickly put a shirt on and walked to the door and peered through the hole. You have got to be fucking kidding me. Eris took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Hello, life ruiner.”

Lucien gave the appearance of looking around. “Oh calm down, that was years ago and your life doesn’t look that ruined to me”

“Yes well, when you left my reputation shattered with my father's blood on my hands it took half a century to get back to a fraction of where I was.”

“So dramatic and we both know that that was only partly my fault.” When Eris didn’t respond, Lucien filled the silence. “Half a century? Huh, has it really been that long?” god his brother was infuriating, it took all of eris’s self-control not to smack him across his face.

“I actually believe it’s been about 75 years.” Eris turned around to face the voice. “Hello, Lucien.”

Lucien looked amused. “Hello Azriel.”

“That mate of yours making you lose track of time?” Azriel chuckled as Lucien tensed.

“Elain is doing well thank you for asking, I see you and my brother have remained close throughout the years.”

“Extremely and thoroughly” eris provided, enjoying the way Lucien shifted uncomfortably. “And as fun, as this little visit was, I have more important” Lucien's eyes flicked to Azriel. “Things to do.”

“Can’t get rid of me that fast brother, I was instructed to reconcile with you or sleep outside.”

“That bad? Seems to be a regular occurrence for you.”

“There’s that sense of humor I missed so much,” Lucien drawled. “So will you have a drink with me?”

“No.” Eris began to shut the door before Azriel stopped him.

“Sorry, can we just have a minute please?”

Lucien appeared grateful. “Of course.”

Eris turned to Azriel, “he destroyed my life, I am not going to have a drink with him.”

“Sweetie, it’s been almost a century and it was mostly beron’s fault.”

“Keyword being almost. Check back in 25”

“Minutes?” Azriel asked hopefully.

“Years.” Eris was about to walk away when Azriel stopped him gently grabbing his arm.

“Eris.” He turned to face him, Eris's gaze softening.

“Please, if not for him then for me, have a drink with your brother and maybe there will be some rewards after.” Eris hated when he got like that, everything about his resolve crumbled and all he wanted was to melt into his hard chest.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But those rewards better be nothing short of spectacular.”

It was Azriel's turn to smirk. “Oh, they will be.” He turned, dropping Eris’s arm, and walked back to his bedroom on silent feet, fading into the shadows. He looked like a god and Eris had to force himself to turn away. He opened the door once more to find his half-brother standing against the side of his house in a nonchalant manner, pretending he hadn’t been listening.

He shot Lucien a look. “Not a word.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“There are rules.”

“The control freak strikes again.” Eris shot him another look. “Ok ok, what are they?”

“You get 1 hour, and the words Mom, dad, hellion, Gwyn and our dead brothers do not come up.”

“No family, got it.” he held his hand out, eris knew he expected him to ask where they were going so he didn’t. Instead, he took his hand as Lucien winnowed them away.

A second later Eris opened his eyes immediately recognizing the stuffy summer court. It reeked of joy and pleasantries Eris did not want to participate in. They walked in silence into the town square to whatever trashy bar or club Lucien was taking him to. Suddenly he stopped in front of what appeared to be a lingerie store.

“Need some new panties brother?” He ignored him instead walking inside and whispering something to the cashier, something even his fae ears couldn’t pick up. The cashier flashed them a sly smile and walked to a rack of clothes. She snapped her fingers and a door appeared, Lucien turned to Eris and although this was unexpected, he kept his features completely neutral. Alright, at least he’s trying to make this interesting. He followed him through the door and down the stairs to a dark room lit with neon lights. The room was large and filled with high fae and faeries alike.

“It’s a chain, across all 7 courts, called the underground beluga.” Lucien provided even though Eris had pointedly not asked.

“Inconspicuous.” He chuckled at that. They went up to the bar and sat down.

“Bourbon please” and at the same Lucien said “a round of shots.”

The waiter looked confused, “So which is it, bourbon or shots?”

“We’ll have both.” Answered Eris to both the waiter and Lucien’s delight.

“I like your style.” responded the waiter.

Lucien clapped him on the back and pushed him to sit down. “As do I.”

Drink after drink came and just 1 had turned into 5, 7, maybe 10? It was hard to keep track. It started off tense but by drink 3 Eris and Lucien had dissolved into jokes and memories. Reminiscing the good, eluding the bad. They spoke of their childhood and when they had been close. He did well with avoiding the topic of family.

Eris was drunk as fuck. His mind was hazy and his vision blurred but he was sure that it was his name being called up to the stage. “Eris vanserra you’re up for karaoke, it was requested by a member in this club, that would like to remain anonymous, for you to sing don’t stop believin by journey to the middle.” He blinked twice and turned around to face his brother. The sly fox was smirking.

“Oh, you little shit.”

He took a sip from his bourbon, “I have no idea what you mean”

The host's voice came again “Eris, come on lad you’re not above karaoke get your ass up here.”

“You heard the man.”

And then the cheering began. “ER-IS ER-IS ER-IS”

“Come on brother, give the crowd what they want.” but eris had a better idea.

“Alright,” He paused, smirking, “brother.” Eris pressed his hand on Lucien's shoulder and winnowed them both to the stage. “This performance will now be a duet,” he announced to the crowd, causing an epidemic of cheering. Lucien’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, one not too different from the color of his hair. The music began and the lyrics to the song appeared in the air. Well this was happening, eris thought, might as well lean into it.

He gripped the microphone in one hand, letting the alcohol take over, and belted. “JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL.” he winked at a seraphim, walking to the center of the stage. “LIVIN IN A LO-NELY WORLDD. SHE TOOK THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN GOIN AN-Y-WHERE.”

Eris looked to Lucien, enjoying the shock on his face, he gave him a look as if to say, your move brother.

Lucien cracked his neck, ran a hand through his hair and took the microphone in both hands. “JUST A CITY BOY. BORN AND RAISED IN SOUTH DESTROITTT.” with each word, his voice became more and more confident. “HE TOOK THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN GOIN AN-Y-WHERE”

Eris took the next two lines. “A SINGER IN A SMO-KEY ROOM. THE SMELL OF WINE AND CHEAP PERF-UMEE.”

Lucien cut him off. “FOR A SMILE THEY’D SHARE THE NIGHT. IT GOES ON AND ON, AND ON, AND ON.”

He joined Eris in the middle of the stage and they sang together. “STRANGERS, WAITIN. UP AND DOWN THE BOULEVARD. THEIR SHADOWS.” With the snap of Eris's fingers, their shadows reflected on the curtain began to dance on their own and he lit everything up in a heatless flame. “SEARCHIN IN THE NIGHTTT. STREETLIGHTS, PEOPLE. LIVIN JUST TO FIND EMOTION.” Eris and Lucien looked to each other and then at the crowd that was going crazy. “HIDIN, SOMEWHERE IN THE NIGHTTTT.”

In reality, they were sweaty, off-tune, drunk idiots doing karaoke. But to Eris in his drunken stupor, thought they were gods on that stage. Leaving every emotion he had felt in his almost 600 years with don’t stop believin. He was on a high and could not be brought down no matter what. Up on that stage with his brother, he was invincible.

They sang at least 4 more songs, each one more insane than the last. They drank and joked until the sun came up. And though Eris had nowhere near forgiven his brother, maybe just maybe he had taken a step in the right direction.

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

heeey! so back when @eirianerisdar posted chapter 12 of their fic the ransom of the house of fëanor - that’s the one where they finally let the brothers hellspawn and their idiot dad out of the void, but they have to throw elrond in, all very sad - i thought up my own somewhat fluffier vastly dumber au for the end of that chapter. in honour of the fic being finished, i’ve decided to write up the various scattershot ideas i’ve had for it, with the caveat that i’ll be working off my own slightly different background headcanons

the divergence point is roughly when elrond announces that he’s totally going into the void now, for realsies, the local ainur are nodding solemnly, and the fëanorians are running preliminary can-we-take-them calculations. except for maedhros, who’s very sad to hear that they must sacrifice his nephew to the eternal dark for their freedom, ‘tis truly a shame, they will honour his memory and GET THE BOAT, BOYS

or, the original elf mad scientist, his murderous blood-hungry spawn, a guy who’s extremely grouchy about not getting to do his dramatic self-sacrifice, and their somewhat-less-reluctant-than-he-should-be getaway driver go on the lam

how they got away from the valar:

námo: already knew this was going to happen, but it’s not like anyone ever listens to him, is it? in the moment, was a little more concerned with how morgoth had started belly-crawling towards the doors of night

manwë: never wanted to throw elrond into the void in the first place, and has been silently hoping elrond would call his bluff for the past week. the children are all safe and inside like they should be, and isn’t that what really matters?

eönwë: no it isn’t boss the fëanorians are a completely unpredictable wildcard we cannot afford to let them run around unsupervised!!! would probably have at least delayed the family hellspawn until backup could arrive, except

olórin: realised what maedhros was planning almost immediately and had to consciously force down a shit-eating grin. as soon as the brothers started moving, divetackled eönwë

-

[from a note attached to a harpoon lodged outside the highest window on the white tower of the isle of seabirds]

elwing - it went better than i expected, honestly. the sons of fëanor took about as much offense to elrond’s plan as everyone else has, except when words didn’t work they resorted to action. they dragged him onto vingilot and i followed them, and then we cast off together. we’ve set sail for as far away from the doors of night as we can get. i’m coming with them, of course, i’m not letting these lunatics crash my baby

i’m not entirely certain when we’ll be back? the fëanorians seem worried the valar might come after us, which wouldn’t surprise me, really. i’m taking us out towards middle-earth, we’ll see where we go after that. they’re all screaming at each other and running across the deck, i’m not convinced they have much of a plan. elrond is yelling too, he’s arguing with either caranthir or curufin, can’t tell which. the one i suspect is maglor has wrapped himself around his neck and refuses to let go. our son is alive and healthy and not in the eternal darkness, and for that, at least, i am grateful

the redhead who’s co-opted the harpoons says we’re coming up on your tower. no one’s done anything to threaten me or elrond, or even looked at the silmaril. there’s something nice about sailing with a crew again, no matter who it is. i love you, and i’ll be back as soon as i can - eärendil

[from a note attached to a harpoon found among the ruins of a house in the tirion stonecarvers’ district]

you were right, nerdanel. you were right about everything, and i was wrong. i’m sorry. the boys and i are going on another adventure right now, but we’ll come back to you someday, i promise

[from the same note, in much neater handwriting]

tell tyelpë i love him, and also that the coordinates are [rest torn off]

-

the first sign of this mess that reaches arda is the morning and evening star disappearing from the sky. gondorian astronomers, haradren scholars, avarin priests all stare flummoxed as the star of high hope simply fails to appear before the sun. no matter how unsuperstitous they are everyone agrees this is a really bad omen, and all across the globe the high halls of power tremble in fear over the new horror this must portend

the first sign of this mess that reaches the shire (except for that one took who’s really into astrology) is when eight-year-old elanor gardner rushes into bag end the next day, all ‘dad! dad! there are elves in the woods!’

sam is pretty chuffed to hear this. the fair folk don’t pass through the shire half as often as they used to, and it’s been some years since he heard their song. if they’re in the neighbourhood, why, it’d only be polite to say hello, wish them luck on their journey, hand them a letter. he packs up a nice tuck-box full of goodies to share, and then sam and elanor (and frodo, who’s going through a following-his-big-sister-around-and-copying-everything-she-does phase) set out to meet the elves

first they hear the shouting. then they see the smoke

at the end of the path his daughter leads him down, sam finds the wreckage of what looks like a crashed boat strewn across the forest, still faintly smouldering. at least a dozen elves are rushing between and up the trees, yelling at each other in the angriest quenya he’s ever heard. in the middle of the impact crater stands a blonde elf carrying a stone that shines like the phial of galadriel, wailing something sam knows just enough sindarin to recognise as ‘MY SHIIIIIIIIIP’

as sam’s gaze pans over the unfolding catastrophe, his eyes land on one of the last elves he’d expected to see, master elrond. elrond is rubbing his temple, groaning like someone who knows he’s the most responsible person around and really wishes he wasn’t. a vaguely familiar sketchy-as-fuck elf is clinging onto his shoulders, in a not-dissimilar way to how frodo-lad is currently riding on sam. elrond catches sam’s gaze

‘greetings, master samwise,’ says the wisest elf-lord of the west, ignoring the scuffle that’s breaking out behind him. ‘i must apologise for my relations’

(fëanor and elanor become fast friends, teaching each other their languages and exploring the shire together. absolutely no one else is okay with this)

-

fëanor, dragging an incredibly-put-upon elrond around the citadel of minas tirith: grandbabies!

fëanor, marvelling over the embroidery arwen is showing him: great-grandbabies!

fëanor, carrying a tiny giggling eldarion all the way up the tower of gondor: great-great-grandbabies!

fëanor, staring fixedly at an increasingly apprehensive aragorn: great-great-great...

celegorm, on dad-watching duty: actually if you lay the maths out it’s very likely every human in middle-earth is descended... from... elros... fuck

fëanor: has gone completely still

fëanor: massive grin spreading across his face, eyes sparkling like the two trees brought back to life

fëanor: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[harrylilies]

The Royal Series | Pt. I

The Royal Series Masterlist

I posted this series in 2018 but in late 2019, my blog got hacked and I lost all my work. This is me reposting the written chapters of The Royal Series after crying to my husband after I lost it along with all my writing on here. Enjoy. x

It had been long since you had let your hair down for a night.

You longed for a lowkey life, although you knew that the royal protocols you had been following since you were a child were far too embedded in you – yet, you knew how to have your fun.

You found fun in your trips to get milk and cheese yourself, in the strolls you went on in the early morning, when you attended a friend’s wedding, when your oldest brother wasn’t Prince William who was close in line, but a protective brother whom you teased for being old, when your ginger brother, Harry, patted you on the back and helped you with the plans that would make your grandma, the Queen, not necessarily pleased, when you danced with your best friend, and,

when you listened to music; which explained where you were that moment.

The arena was lit, some people who passed by you walking past you without a care, probably thinking that a princess in a Harry Styles concert in Los Angeles was too far-fetched, while others stood stunned.

In your defence, you looked unsuspicious in your black merch hoodie and black jeans, your best friend, Farrah – whom you met at university –, beside you in a casual attire as well, but the two bulky men walking behind you and close in black suits and wireless earbuds did little to conceal you.

Reaching your seats, you grinned at your best friend as you sat. From your peripheral, you saw your two private guards looking around, standing in the aisle beside Farrah’s seat.

“Hey,” you grabbed their attention, pointing with your thumb behind your back at the empty seats, “Would you please sit?”

“Your Highness w-”

"Please, it's a command. Sit here, enjoy the show." You told the two guards who intently looked at you before giving a reluctant nod.

In your balcony seat, your eyes then fell on the stage in anticipation.

"Your Highness," You heard someone beside you, making you look.

A brunet man, no older than 32, stood with a polite and kind smile.

You smiled. "Are you Jeffery?" He nodded, beginning to politely bow his head a tad. You offered your hand with a wide grin, "Thank you for giving me seats in such a short notice, I’m really sorry for any inconvenience."

"Oh no, it really is a pleasure, your Highness." Jeff tipped is head.

"Just Y/N." You smiled, glancing at the stage as the opening act were saying their goodbyes. "He's coming out now, isn't he?"

"Yeah, yeah, he is. Have you been a fan for long?" Jeff asked as you both stood alongside each other, looking at the stage.

"Quite long actually. Since One Direction," You giggled, shrugging, "Always wanted to attend one of their concerts but only now have I been able to do so. Harry has a lovely voice. I have the album on a lot." You laughed, letting Jeff in on your secret, “But hey, keep that between us.” You joked.

Jeff chuckled, "Who would've guessed that the Princess of the United Kingdom is a Harry Styles fan?"

“Trust me, you’d be surprised.” Farrah said, joining in as the three of you laughed.

“I’ll be right there with the rest of the crew,” Jeff pointed at a different place where people from the crew stood, almost all of them looking at you. At you looking at them, they all turned in embarrassment which made you chuckle to yourself before looking at Jeff who had a bashful smile, “Sorry about that. It’s exciting.”

“It’s exciting for me, too.” You assured him.

“Well, please call me or have anyone to do so if you need anything, your H-” you gave him a look, “Y/N.”

“Thank you, Jeffrey.”

“No problem, Y/N.”

The lights flickered off, your heart fluttering in excitement as you stood up, beginning to cheer with the fans.

The notes of Ever Since New York started playing before the lights were on, making you finally see the man you had flown out to see.

In a blue floral suit, Harry stood with his guitar before he began singing, Farrah recording you as you dramatically sang along.

With every song, you and Farrah let loose; dancing together and screaming the lyrics, vibing with Harry and his band. Hell, you caught one of your guards bob his head to Only Angel before his colleague swatted his arm.

It didn't take long for more people to notice the presence of the English Princess and her famous best friend, some phones and flashes being directed your way but experiencing the excitement and utter euphoria of it all, you chose to ignore the attention.

You were captivated to say the least by his performance, posting stories to your private Instagram account, isthataladybug, of a 102 follower.

You knew that he was a cheeky person who enjoyed a nice chat, so him walking around with his mic and talking to fans wasn’t of any surprise, yet, you didn’t predict him addressing you.

"I would just like to greet someone incredibly special here tonight," Harry said through the mic as he wandered on stage before looking your way, "Hi!" He grinned, waving at you. "All well?"

With a grin and flushed cheeks, you nodded and gave him thumbs up.

With a dimpled smile, Harry tipped his head and gave you a curtesy which sent everyone in a frenzy and you and Farrah to laugh.

Farrah nudged you, making you turn to look at her. "We're meeting him, right?"

You shrugged, "Jeff said we will. Said Harry would have his head if we didn’t.”

To say you were disappointed when Harry said his goodbyes after finishing the setlist would be an understatement, although the fact that you were meeting him seemed to brighten you up a tad.

Backstage was chaotic.

Everyone was running around, wanting to be on their best behaviours and look like it for when the Princess came in, every person telling the other that Jeff was on his way to get you and your best friend and that in just a few, they would be seeing the Princess of the United Kingdom in the flesh.

Harry was no better, pacing around the room, making sure he looked decent and collected. Running his fingers through his hair, he turned to look at his band, “How do I look?”

“Like you’re not going to pass out in any second.” Sarah said sarcastically.

"Fuck, I'm so nervous." Harry laughed, wiping his sweaty palms on his suit trousers.

"So am I. Who would've thought that I'm going to meet the Princess of the United Kingdom? Someone better film this." Clare said before letting out a breath as the band stood in the dressing room.

"I-" Adam was cut off by a knock on the door.

They looked at each other with wide eyes before Harry cleared his throat, standing straighter. "Come in!"

Jeff came inside first, his figure hiding yours before he walked further inside and you and Farrah were then seen. The grin on your face was contagious.

Lined, with Harry at the end, you began to shake hands with the band.

"You were absolutely amazing!" You said as you shook their hands, one by one before reaching Harry.

Neither of you knew that the other was about to pass out from the nerves and excitement as you both smiled at each other.

"Thank you for the show. You're as good live as the studio version, if not better." You said.

Blushing at the comment, Harry softly shook your hand. "It's my honour, your Highness."

"Y/N," you corrected him, your hand still in his. "Just Y/N."

"Y/N," Harry repeated with a charming smile. "An honour, Y/N."

Being this close to him, you noticed how emerald Harry's eyes were. Raspberry pink lips and blushing cheeks, he was a sight for sore eyes.

It was cliché, anyone from the outside would say so, but have a 23-year-old Princess meet a 23-year-old artist whom she had been listening to for years and try not to make it cliché; hell, cliché or not, it was a meeting for the stories.

Farrah clearing her throat was what brought you out of your trance, making you remove your hand from Harry's.

"Well, we were actually going out for a drink if you want to join? Is that okay for you?" Sarah asked, “Oh my God, I just asked the Princess to grab a drink with us, I’m so sorry, your Highness.”

“Hey, no, no,” you quickly shook your head, “It’s fine,” you glanced at the guards and your best friend who gave you a nod, "I’d love to join if you’re all okay with Farrah and I joining. We wouldn’t want to interrupt any band-bonding time."

"Of course!" Harry grinned. "We're more than okay."

Telling you the lowkey bar – that served “amazing fries and boneless chicken wings” as Adam said – they were driving to, you exchanged “see you later’s” before you separated ways.

Right as you sat in the car, Farrah turned to face you, “What was that?”

In confusion, you looked at her, “What was what?”

“You and Harry fucking Styles! What was that?” She laughed excitedly, “Please make it happen.”

“Make what happen? You’re a lunatic!”

“You just pulled a Nicholas Sparks back there; ogling at each other, holding hands like yes, Mr. Darcy, I’d let you wed me.” She said dramatically, putting the back of her hand against her forehead.

“First of all, never do this again,” you cringed jokingly, “Second of all, what’s wrong with you? I have a conversation with a lad and suddenly I should get married to him?”

“He’s not just any lad, don’t discredit him like that.”

“Why don’t you go out with him then, Miss Farrah?” You teased her.

“Because I’m Muslim and it won’t work out, you know with our fa-”

“I was kidding.”

“I wasn’t when I said you pulled a Nicholas Sparks.”

“I should’ve brought Emma instead of you.” You let out a sigh.

“Imagine if she could’ve joined though. It would’ve been Emma and I against you.” Farrah poked your arm.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Arriving at the bar, you and Farrah entered, finding that it wasn’t at all crowded but quite the opposite. Very few people were inside, all seeming to mind their business as they ate and drank, a jukebox playing music to add to the atmosphere of the place.

Among the people, your eyes fell on the band you were meeting, Harry instantly standing and waving at you with a grin.

They had left you seats, although you knew your guards were going to stand as your shadows.

Sitting on the opposite seat from Harry, you were seated beside Sarah, the “discreet” excited expression she gave to Mitch not going unnoticed but you only smiled to yourself instead of commenting.

“This was your second show, wasn’t it?” You asked, all of them nodding and replying with confirmation, “Any idea what this tour will have for you?”

“So many headaches,” Hélène replied in her French accent with a chuckle, “So, so many headaches.”

“Brighten up,” Clare nudged the photographer jokingly, “It’s only the second night.”

“I feel like this tour would be a milestone in all of our lives,” Adam replied, seeming to avoid eye contact with you before he looked at his bandmates, “Literally all of us.”

“A-Are you okay?” Farrah asked him, causing Adam’s posture to relax as he laughed.

“I just don’t know if I should look at you,” he said as he looked at you, “What if it’s disrespectful? Illegal?”

“Oh my God, no,” you laughed as you shook your head, “I’m sitting at a bar in Los Angeles with you, Adam, that’s not exactly a Trooping the Colour.”

“When we first heard you were attending,” Harry began, “We all just sort of,” his eyes widened before he laughed, “You know what?” He turned to look at Adam, “That’s a milestone right there.”

“You speak too highly of me,” you rolled your eyes jokingly, “What about all of you? That album, tonight, you should give yourself more credit.”

“Makes sense that people love you so much.” Mitch said with a small smile.

“Not everyone loves her, excuse you,” Farrah joked, raising her hand up.

“Ah, bullshit.” You rolled your eyes, “You love me the most.”

“No?”

“That’s denial.”

Conversations seemed to flow naturally among everyone at the table, laughter being heard as well as a few claps from how hard one of you would be laughing.

It wasn’t until you realised that you hadn’t drank anything that you stood up, “I’m going to grab something to drink. Does anyone want anything?”

A chorus of “thank you’s” was heard, you fully knowing that they probably hadn’t bothered to even ask you to get them anything because of your title.

“I’ll bring these fries and wings for all of us you told me about.” You pointed at Adam.

“I’ll join you.” Harry said, standing from his place and approaching you before the both of you walked towards the bar.

“Sorry if they make you uncomfortable.” You mumbled to Harry as you both sat on stools.

“Who?”

“Sid and Andrew, the guards,” you replied, “They’re the sweetest actually.” You smiled at the men who stood at a safe distance away from you but nearby, both of them tipping their heads at you before they began looking around.

“No, of course not,” Harry shook his head, “I thought you’d have more with you honestly.”

You waved off, “No, two are enough. Daddy wanted me to walk around with 6 but,” you laughed, “God, no.”

Harry smiled before his smile turned into a smirk, “Did you just say Daddy?”

“Ye-Gross, stop! That’s my father!” You groaned, stuffing your face in your hands as Harry laughed, “How old are you, Styles? 14?”

“And a half actually.”

“Ha, ha.” You tried to stifle your smile as you looked up at him, “It’s Mummy and Daddy for us, excuse you.”

“It’s cute.” Harry smiled timidly.

“It was until you commented.” You teased him, giving him a shrug.

“I apologise, your Highness. Please, don’t behead me.” Dramatically, Harry put a hand to his heart.

“I’ll think about it.” You put both hands on the counter gracefully, placing one above the other as you turned away from him before the both of you laughed.

Neither of you had noticed that you hadn’t ordered yet, only remembering when the bartender came over to take your order.

After ordering, you were both quiet, listening to the music that sounded in the place, you swaying slightly in your seat as you looked around.

"Are you not scared?"

You turned to look at Harry, “Excuse me?”

“Are you not scared?” He repeated.

"Of what?” You asked.

"Being seen in here. The rumours. I mean my rumours I can take care of but royal rumours?" Harry shrugged.

“Why? Are you scared?” The tiny smirk that was your lips were drawn into didn’t go unnoticed by Harry, feeling his lips lift into one of his own just at the sight of yours.

Harry took a moment to drink you up; the vibe you gave off was nothing he imagined. The dainty, soft princess he saw on the screen ever since he was young wasn't who sat in front of him.

In front of him was a confident woman, fearless and ready to seize whatever risk thrown at her. A woman who refused to have her identity shaped up and formed by her family and what the world was trying to limit her to, all for a title.

That's why with a thumping heart and an amused smile, Harry replied; "No, Princess. I'm not scared."

[dhwty-writes]

Congratulations for your follower milestone!!! Prompt if you like: Jaskier's first winter at Kaer Morhen and he finds out about the witcher cuddle pile in front of the fire every evening and is delighted to be invited to join them.

Thank youuu~ You have discovered my largest weakness. Cuddle piles! This was a wonderful prompt. I hope you like it :)

Read on AO3

There were certain things in Jaskier's life that fell prey to exceptionally high standards. His students at Oxenfurt, the wine in Toussaint, or the longevity of the colours of his doublets to name a few examples. But all of them were dwarfed by the looming shadow that was the ruin of Kaer Morhen.

But honestly, who could blame him? Everyone knew he had a soft spot for history and legends, he was a bard after all. And what was Kaer Morhen but the decaying visualisation of said stories? What were witchers but living and breathing ballads and epics?

He vividly remembered his days in Lettenhove when his tutor had first mentioned the ancient castle that was now crumbling beneath the crushing burden of centuries, still defiant even after being sacked nearly a century prior, but rotting. The waves of time lapped at its foundations and soon it would see its end, consumed by the ocean of the ages that eventually wore down everything created by humankind. That evening he had stolen the tome his tutor used to torture him and practically inhaled the section about Kaer Morhen.

And then he had met Geralt — of course he had met Geralt, of all witchers, who suffered from selective muteness whenever he tried to ask him about his childhood. The little information he had been able to glean had barely been enough to conjure up an even more grandiose image than before.

In his dreams Kaer Morhen was an enchanted fortress, frozen in time and ice and snow. It was cloaked in an eerie charm, abrasive and inviting at once. Maybe there were even some vines encapsuling it in a thorny coffin, like in that fairy tale he had been told as a child. In any case it was majestic. Monumental. Mind-blowingly magnificent, even.

He had never experienced a worse disappointment in his entire life.

Alright, maybe he wasn't quite fair to the damp old thing, but after weeks of freezing his balls off while traipsing through the late autumn Kaedwen mountains he really shouldn't be blamed.

Despite Geralt equipping him with a whole new wardrobe fit for a winter up-north both of them had arrived shivering and soggy. Never in his life had he been more thankful for a bed with scratchy furs and lumpy pillows.

Since then a week had passed, but he hadn't quite forgiven the castle of his dreams, the frankly heinous journey it preceded yet. Not only was Geralt's home in the middle of fucking nowhere, it was also icy and drafty and, on a bad day, even snowy.

Jaskier had known, of course, that Kaer Morhen was a ruin. He just hadn't imagined it quite so... ruined, if he was honest. Nor had he imagined himself being tasked with aiding in the never-ending string of repairs that appeared to fill the majority of the winter days for the four remaining witchers of the wolf school and Coen, the last of the griffins. 'Oh, that's a title for the songs,' he thought as he handed Geralt a hammer.

"Are you alright?" the witcher asked from somewhere above him, where he was fixing a broken beam of the truss.

"Who, me?" Jaskier answered and tucked his frigid fingers into his armpits. "Of course, why are you asking?"

There was an alarming creak from above followed by the CLANG CLANG CLANG of a hammer. "Because I can hear your jittering from here. Are you dressed warm enough?"

He scoffed. "Who are you? My mother?"

The hammering stopped. "Well, are you?"

Jaskier couldn't help but smile. "Yes, Geralt. I'm a good lad who's wearing his undershirt, knitted sweater and lined gloves."

"And the woollen hose Vesemir gave you?"

"And the woollen hose Vesemir gave me."

"Good. Let's go back, it's getting late." There was some shuffling that meant Geralt was packing up. Moments later he dropped out of the rafters to land before Jaskier.

"Gracious gods!" he squealed and leapt back. "Geralt, you know I hate it when you do that!"

"I know," he said with a smile and began walking down the hall, "and you know that you mustn't get sick here. There's only so much we can do about pneumonia up here."

"Hmph," he answered and hurried after him, "I'm trying. Which is why you don't see me complaining."

Geralt shot him a condescending look.

"Alright, alright," he amended generously, "I'm only complaining a little. But honestly, why didn't you tell me I'd freeze my buttocks to the benches if I sit down too long?"

He snorted a laugh. After a short pause, he added solemnly: "I thought you wouldn't want to come, then."

"Not want to come? Have you listened to a word I've said since meeting you? I mean, of course you haven't, that's a rhetorical question, darling, but still. I've wanted to come here since... forever! And even if you'd told me, do you seriously think I'd have listened? Don't be ridiculous, I never listen to your warnings."

"True," Geralt agreed. "Still, no one comes to Kaer Morhen on their own volition."

"Do I look like no one to you?"

He squinted at him to size him up. "Hmm."

Jaskier laughed and punched his shoulder. "Arsehole."

"Perhaps I am," Geralt answered with a sly smile.

"Probably you are."

"Maybe."

"Definitely!"

The witcher pouted, which, quite frankly, looked ridiculous. "Don't be mean, Jaskier. You're a guest, after all."

"Ugh," he said and rolled his eyes, "fine."

"Fine," Geralt agreed and opened the door to the Great Hall. It was the only room in the whole fucking keep that was reasonably warm, so Jaskier felt confident to remove at least one layer of clothing while Geralt put his tools away. He was in the process of folding his sweater, when he spotted Lambert and Eskel in the corner, tightly curled up against each other.

"Oh, uh, Geralt?" he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Your, umm, your brothers. Should we better leave?"

"Bard," Lambert answered, "you know that we can fucking hear you, right?"

"Right!" he answered quickly. "Sorry. Geralt?"

But his witcher was already on his way to the two of them. Once he reached the layer of furs and carpets that blanketed the floor, he stripped his boots and sweater and flopped down unceremoniously on top of them.

Jaskier couldn't help but stare. Not for long of course, no stares could go unnoticed for long when it came to witchers, but still.

Eskel raised his head with an amused smile: "What? You won't join us?"

"So, that's how you keep warm!" the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "I was already wondering how all of you survived these winters as children."

The three witchers shared an awkward gaze. "Not all of us," Eskel answered.

"Oh," Jaskier said. 'Oh shit,' he thought. "Well, uhmm, I'm leaving, then. Yup, that's me. Leaving this room. Sorry. Again. Or for the first time. Have a nice evening!"

"Jaskier," Geralt growled and lifted his head from Lambert's back, "don't be an arse."

"Oh, uhmm, I'm trying not to be," he laughed nervously. "Well, you know me. I'm always trying. Sometimes I'm even successful. Yay..." He was suddenly feeling much too warm, despite the freezing temperatures.

"Then stop fussing and get the fuck over hear," Lambert grumbled. "I won't listen to Geralt's bitchin' for another evening. Fifteen winters is more than fucking enough."

"Mhmm," Eskel agreed and yawned noisily. "Fifteen years of 'Ohh, Jaskier gives the best hugs' and 'He smells so nice'. Wouldn't shut up about you..."

"Excuse me?" he squeaked undignified. Jaskier awkwardly cleared his throat. "Excuse me?" he tried again.

"Geralt," Lambert hissed and kicked him into his stomach, "I think we broke your bard."

"Hmm?" he answered and turned his head sleepily towards him. He blinked a few times before his gaze cleared and his eyes focused on him. "Fuck," he muttered and slowly at up. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing!" Jaskier assured him too quickly. "It's, umm... it's just that this situation is a tad awkward. For me. You see, I never think before speaking, and sometimes words slip past that were never meant to see the light of day and I'm truly sorry for offending you-"

He was interrupted by bellowing laughter at that. "Oh, he's cute," Eskel said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

"Fuckin' adorable," Lambert agreed. "Look, bard," he said and leaned onto his forearm, "we're witchers. It takes a whole fuckin' lot more to offend us."

"I know, I know, believe me!" He rolled his eyes. "It's one of your most infuriating qualities. And the competition is hard, just so you know. I've-"

"Jaskier," Geralt interrupted him gently. "Just come over here? Please?"

He huffed and uncrossed his arms. "Well, if you ask so nicely." Despite his prevalent discomfort he crossed over to them, sighing when Geralt wrapped his arms around his waist. "That's nice..."

"Mhmm," he agreed and dropped backwards, pulling a shrieking Jaskier with him.

"Geralt," he complained loudly, writhing in his arms, "warn me for fuck's sake! I could've crushed someone."

"Unlikely," Geralt declared and began pulling off his boots, before rearranging the surrounding limbs, until Jaskier was safely snuggled between the three witchers. For the first time since he had set foot into the Kaedwen mountains, he was finally warm again. Slowly, he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

It was almost too easy with three warm bodies curled around him, all of them intently listening to his breath evening out. He was almost asleep when they finally dared to speak up: "Fuck," Lambert whispered and cuddled closer, "he does give great hugs."

He couldn't help but smile and tighten his grip on his waist a bit.

"Yeah," Eskel agreed, "don't think I'll ever get up again."

"Don't think I'll give him back," Lambert said. Geralt growled and he laughed quietly. "What do you say, bard? Come with me in spring?"

Jaskier smiled and turned around to hug Geralt instead. "Not a fucking chance."

Send me prompts to celebrate my follower milestone!

[calmsweetcreature]

Making Out (BLURB 4/4)

A/N: These are little preference type things where someone sends me a prompt or title and I do a little blurb for each guy💙 send me ideas my lovelies! And let me know what you think! 

Warnings: Mainly fluff, might be a lil’ something smutty here or there.

Luke

I feel like with Luke it would start with you both cuddling Petunia on a warm sunny afternoon. 

***

You had been lounging on the couch for most of the day, listening to chill music and enjoying each other’s company. Luke had been staring at his two girls for a long time now, watching you nuzzle your nose against the top of Piggy’s head and kiss her ears.

“I’m starting to feel neglected over here.” Luke’s voice comes out husky from lack of talking, the two of you enjoying the silence and peace of the lazy summer afternoon.

“Awh poor baby,” you tease, grinning cheekily at your boyfriend as you leave Petunia’s side to crawl across the couch to lay across Luke’s lap.

“Damn right,” He smiles sweetly at you, stroking his fingers across your cheek. You lean into his hand, sighing contently as you both stare into each others eyes. Your eyes sparkle with a bright and happy love in them as you lean up to peck your man on the lips.

Luke instantly deepens the movement of his lips on yours and his fingers slide through your hair to hold your head close. 

Without parting from the kiss you move to straddle his lap, your hands on his shoulders. You both want to be as physically close as you can get, with your bodies pressed up against each others. You both moan against each others mouths as your fingers tangle in his curls to give little tugs while his hands grip your neck and his thumbs rub over your jaw.

It wasn’t so much intense as it was needy, both of you playfully going between shorter pecks and long tongue rolling kisses as you wrapped yourself around each other.

You could feel that Luke was affected by your kisses and you couldn’t help the giggle that spills out of your lips, causing him to pull away and glare at you playfully.

“What are you laughing at there missy? I know it isn’t my amazing kissing skills.” You roll your eyes at his words and tug on his hair hairder making him laugh.

“Not at all bub, I just feel flattered that my superior kissing skills have affected you so much.” To prove your point you wiggle your hips causing Luke to gasp out loud.

“You’ve got me there love. What do ya say we move this to the bedroom?” He wiggles his eyebrows and gives you an exaggerated wink, causing you to laugh out loud and lean forward so your lips are to his ear.

“Sounds like a plan, but I think that it’s only fair if...” You dip your head lower to leave a long lick along the sensitive part of his neck causing Luke to shiver. “...Last one to the bedroom is a couch potato!” 

You jump off of Luke’s lap and run towards the bedroom, cackling loudly as you hear Luke’s footsteps behind you.

“Hey no fair!” His shout echoes through the halls as he chases after his girl.

Calum

Our loveable soft boi at his finest

***

You had been standing in the doorway for the best part of fifteen minutes, watching Cal’s face intently concentrating on his computer screen. He had been messing around with a new song idea and had recorded bits and pieces to mess around with. He’d listen to the same ten second clip about forty times and was ready to pull his hair out. He takes his headphones off and leaves them around his neck as he adjusts his cap. He rests his head back against the chair and groans softly, his eyes slipping shut.

You sigh softly, walking over to your man and placing your hands on his shoulders. He jumps slightly before relaxing into your gentle touch as you try to soothe his tense muscles.

“Don’t think I didn’t know you were watching me, creeper.” His words are a soft murmur and you gasp, spinning his chair around until he is facing you.

“If you knew then why didn’t you talk to me?” You fake hurt for a second before a smile fills your face and you sit softly in his lap. His arms go around your waist and his hands settle on your thighs, drawing a lazy pattern up and down your legs.

“I’m sorry doll, I was concentrating extra hard. Not that it helped, I’m still not sure what to do with it and my heads fucked.” His eyes look so tired that you can’t help but clutch his face in your hands, peppering kisses all over his cheeks and mouth.

“What do you say we order food in, I run you a hot bath while we wait for it and then we sit outside with a few beers and some music and relax? You can come back to this tomorrow with a fresh mind.” You press your forehead against his and place your hands on his shoulders again, rubbing the tension away.

“You’re too fucking good to me, but you got one thing wrong sweetness.” His words are low and heavy which makes your stomach tighten.

“What’s that?” Your words are hushed as you stare into his eyes, sure he can see the longing in yours.

“You’re going to run us a bath, if I’m going to relax I’m going to need my girl with me.” You smile at his words, nodding your head softly before Calum reaches a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. His plush lips move against yours softly and you sigh into the kiss. 

After a few seconds you both pull away and you can see a twinkle returning to the eyes of your thoughtful boy. 

“I love you doll.”

“Love you always my music man.”

Your lips meet again and you just enjoy being close, getting drunk on the taste of each other.

Ashton

I miss our cheerful man, so I couldn’t resist this scenario.

***

The music was blaring through the house as you stood at the kitchen counter, shimmying your hips and using the mixing spoon as your microphone, your cake mix starting to look as it should.

“Woah, we’re halfway there woah, livin’ on a prayer!” You spun around, your fuzzy socks sliding across the floor. 

“Take my hand, we’ll make it I swear!” Ashton’s voice makes you jump as his arms wrap around your waist as he spins you around.

“Woah, livin on a prayer, living on a prayer!” You both sing your hearts out, laughing as you fall to the floor in a heap. An egg drops from the counter, heading for the floor when Ashton’s quick reflexes stop it from hitting the ground.

“So I see you’re having a productive day,” Ash’s eyes are teasing but the big smile on his face is infectious and you grin back at him.

“I’m making a cake, half of it is in the oven and I’ve just finished the second half - it’s going to be amazing!” You say proudly.

“I can see that angel, just don’t burn the house down again yeah?” You gasp, hitting him on the chest as you climb on top of him.

“Take that back Irwin! That was one time and I’d hardly call it burning the house down... it was just a little smoke!” You can’t stop the blush rising to your cheeks as Ash laughs, sitting up on the kitchen floor. 

“That cake was delicious if I remember, charcoal was very on trend back then.” He smirks, planting a kiss on your nose as you growl softly at him in annoyance.

“Well let me get back to this one if you don’t want a repeat, I don’t need your distractions today mister!” You go to get up when one of his hands goes to your back to keep you in place.

“Not all distractions are bad ones.” He murmurs, his lips finding yours. You both battle for dominance but Ash eventually wins (duh) and he deepens the kiss, his tongue rolling against yours before he leans back to bite your bottom lip. You get lost in the kiss, your hand sliding under his tee to feel his chest when you hear and feel a crunch against the back of your head before a trail of slime falls down your hair. You pull away in shock.

“Oh. No. You fucking didn’t.” His grin tells all and you look down at his hand to see the remnants of a crushed raw egg in his hands. “You’re about to fucking get it Irwin.”

The two of you pause for a moment before you’re both scrambling to reach for anything and everything you can get your hands on, flinging flour and cake mixture at each other until you yet again slip and land with a crash on the floor, only this time you are both covered in food.

“Damn it Ashton! I have to start again!” You’re words are scolding but the grin on your face can’t be hidden as you stare down the love of your life.

He laughs, pushing cake mix covered hair out of your face and pulling you in for another long drawn out kiss. The oven timer goes off and he stands, switching off the oven to avoid another cake burning disaster.

“Now now my little cupcake. You know the best part about making cakes?” You shake your head, taking the hand he holds out to you and lifting yourself off of the floor. He picks you up by your hips and wraps your legs around his waist, carrying you carefully through the house. “Washing it off each others bodies.”

Michael

Our gamer lad, seemed fitting

***

You had been led in bed for over an hour waiting for Mikey to finish his game. You weren’t annoyed at him by any means but you were beginning to feel neglected and in all honesty, needy.

You come up with a master plan and start walking towards his office, shedding your sweatpants leaving you only in Michael’s hoodie, your undies and the knee high socks you know drive him crazy. You can hear him talking on his headset and you chuckle under your breath as you swing the door open slightly. He looks extra cute today in his stripey sweater and glasses, a beanie sat on his messy hair.

He pauses the game at the sound of the door opening and turns to look at you, choking on his breath when he sees what your wearing.

He lifts the mic away from his mouth, swearing under his breath.

“Uh hey baby, you okay?” He asks, his eyes on your legs as you walk over to him.

“I’m feeling needy M, can I sit with you while you play?” You don’t wait for his answer before you straddle his lap, your legs folded next to his as you bury your face in his neck.

“Of course baby, you don’t need to ask. Are you sure you’re okay?” He strokes your back softly, feeling you nod your head against his neck.

He pecks your shoulder softly before repositioning his headset and continuing his game. You sit quietly for the next ten to fifteen minutes while he plays, nestling against his chest and feeling him shake with laughter or rumble when something goes wrong.

As he really settles into the gameplay you start littering tiny kisses against his neck. You feel him tense slightly before resuming the game, every chance he gets he rubs his hand across your back. You start deepening the kisses, pecking over the stubble and occasionally finding a spot to suck on softly. You feel him lip the mic once again.

“Baby, what are you doing?” He tenses, although he tilts his head slightly to the side so that you can reach more of his neck and you know that your plan is working. 

You lick where his neck and shoulder meet and you feel him shiver which lets you know to initiate the next part of the plan.

You start to circle your hips over his crotch softly and a little moan leaves his lips.

“You’re playing a dangerous game sweetheart.” He murmurs. You giggle softly against his neck and he sighs, gritting his teeth and sucking in a breath as you grind particularly hard down onto the growing bulge in his pants. He quits the game, ripping off his headset and throwing it onto the couch behind him.

He grips your jaw in his hand and roughly pulls your face to his, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“So when you said you were needy...” His words trail off as he notices the desire in your eyes, your hips fully rocking against him. 

He uses his thumb on your bottom lip to open your mouth wide, slanting his face and leaning in so that he can crash his lips hard against yours. You give in to him straight away, kissing him as hard as you can. Your tongues wrestle back and forth and its a filthy kiss with so much need involved that it sets your bodies on fire.

It’s a few minutes before you’re both pulling away and panting hard, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Do you want to go back to bed or shall we just stay here?” His words are hushed but he hears your whine and knows exactly what you need. “I got you baby.” His fingers curl your hair around his fist and he moves your head so his lips can attach to your neck as other hand trails softly under the hoodie your wearing. Let’s just say he knows exactly what buttons to press, your gamer guy.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Longing - Roman Godfrey (Hemlock Grove)

Kay, so, I’ve been rewatching Hemlock Grove recently and holy shit...I’ve never wanted someone to literally eat me alive more than Roman Godfrey. I have issues™

It’s Roman Godfrey...18+

~~~~~~~~~~

You looked down the hall of the school, feeling hurt.

You genuinely felt like you and Roman had a connection, talking all the time and flirting with each other. But you were currently witnessing Roman sucking face with some bleach blonde Barbie at her locker.

Rachel, probably the sweetest girl in the whole town and kind of a suck up. She wasn’t the type of girl that Roman usually went for, but he had been known to never step down from a challenge.

It was fine...it was fine. But what you didn’t understand was ever since he got into a relationship with Rachel, he’d ignore you...after being friends for years.

You two knew almost everything about each other, even all the family drama. You just didn’t understand how the person who you’ve been closest to could just up and ditch you like that.

Maybe he just got tired of you...everyone else had. So, why would Roman be any different?

You sighed and closed your locker door, slamming it a bit too hard. It got the attention of Roman, who quickly noticed your sour attitude.

You ignored his questioning gaze and walked out of the front double doors of the school, trying to be excited about spring break.

You immediately went to your dealer after school, wanting to get fucked up and forget all about Roman and his new, perfect girlfriend.

Your usual order was a couple grams of weed, but you had a gut feeling that you were gonna need something a bit stronger than grass to temporarily soothe your heartache. It was stupid, really stupid...but you bought MDMA. Just a couple pills. 

It was also kinda out of curiosity too.

You had heard of one of the other rich kids throwing a party to kick off spring break. Even if Roman was there, you wanted to go and have some fun.

You went home and quickly got dressed up.

You weren’t really the type to dress up fancy, usually just wearing casual clothes, sweaters, blue jeans and such. But you wanted to feel sexy, just once.

You decided on a short black dress that was flowy at the bottom and pushed up your girls slightly, some fishnet tights and your favorite platform boots that had some gems on the tips.

You curled your hair slightly and attempted to do a smoky eye. It was kind of a success? You hoped so at least.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you almost hoped that Roman would be at this stupid party.

You planned on heading to the party about an hour after it officially started.

You carefully made a couple joints for the party, putting the pills in a little container. Crushing up some more weed, you put it in your bowl that Roman bought for you. Sighing at the memory, you put your lighter to the bowl.

After taking a few puffs, you could already start to feel more relaxed and a little ditzy.

You smiled for the first time today, you fucking loved drugs.

An hour later, you were completely stoned, giggling at absolutely everything. But you started to walk to the party, stumbling along the way occasionally.

From down the road, you could already hear the booming base from the unnecessarily loud music and the chatter of drunken young adults.  

To think, this might be one of the last high school party you’ll ever go to besides the probable end of senior year party. You suddenly felt old even though you still 18.

You chuckled seeing a couple people throwing up in the bushes outside front entrance. “Take it easy, lads!” You teased, earning a couple middle fingers thrown your way.

You quickly noticed the red convertible in the driveway, suddenly feeling the buzz of your high retreat back. “Great...”

Upon entering the house, your eyes trained on Roman and Rachel in the corner, her sitting on his lap on the crowded living room couch.

Roman saw you too, all dressed up in the fashion that was unusual for you to wear.

You rolled your eyes, heading to the alcohol bar and making your own cocktail of vodka and orange juice.

Chugging the first cup was a bad idea, the vodka burning your throat. But you made another cup anyway.

You took your first pill and it definitely didn’t take long for it to kick in. “Fuck...” You laughed, feeling happier than usual, almost tearing up at the feeling.

A song you loved came on the speakers, feeling the melody in you soul. You needed to dance.

You shoved yourself in between all the sweaty dancing bodies, letting yourself let go and sway to the beat.

You suddenly felt hands on your hips.

You looked back over you shoulder, seeing a familiar. Some guy from your English class. He wasn’t really your type, but you really couldn’t really care less. The hands on your hips slowly making their way south made you feel like you were on fire, despite it not being the hands you wanted.

Unbeknownst to you, Roman was watching intensely. His face felt hot with rage. He did not like what he was seeing.

The girl on his lap was kissing his neck, trying to turn him on. But all that was on his mind was beating the shit out of the guy who was putting his hands all over you.

He really thought dating Rachel would get you jealous enough to make a move, but apparently it didn’t work. He sighed, he had to do something.

The push it took for him to finally do that was when he saw the guy you were with lead you up stairs of the house. Roman could already sense the hard on that the piece of shit of a male had.

No.

He wasn’t gonna let you get manhandled by that nobody on his watch, didn’t matter if you wanted it. You were his and that was that.

Meanwhile, you were currently getting a hickey from this random guy in a spare room in this rich kid’s house. You felt nether regions heat up with desire. “Roman...” You accidently moaned out, then suddenly feeling the pleasure on your neck stop.

You opened your eyes to see the guy had been pulled off you harshly, being shoved to the floor by a tall man. “You heard her you shitheel, she wants me. Not you.”

“Roman?” You gasped.

“Get the fuck outta here.” Roman yelled at the fallen guy, who immediately listened and rushed out the room.

Roman turned around to see you glaring at him. “What the fuck, Y/N?”

You scoffed. “Where’s your girlfriend?” You spat.

Roman rolled his eyes. “What the fuck are you on, huh?” He asked, completely ignoring your pettiness.

“What’s it to you?”

Roman sighed. “Alright, let’s take you home.” He gently grabbed your arm, pulling you up from the bed.

“Get your fucking hands off me, Godfrey.” You pulled away, but you went along with him anyway, not really interested in getting carried to his car.

“MDMA, huh? Thought you only smoked weed.” Roman smirked, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Rachel, huh? Thought you only went for cunts.” You retorted.

“I was trying to make you jealous.”

You swore your heat almost skipped a beat, but you tried to keep your cool. “Well, it didn’t work.” You crossed your arms. “You could’ve just told me, Roman.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Roman chuckled, scratched the back of his neck.

You sighed heavily, feeling the high coming down. It was bothersome, but you currently wanted to be sober.

Roman glanced at you, seeing your dress was slowly riding up your thighs. He licked his lips. “You know, when I saw you in that dress, all I wanted was to rip it off you.”

You felt shivers down your spine, already feeling that familiar desire fill you. “Oh yeah? Tell me more.”

Roman smirked. “You should be fucking’ ashamed, dressing that like. Making me feel all sorts of things. You wore it just to get me all riled up, huh? And those tight, fuck...”

You exhaled shakily when you saw Roman turn onto the road that led to his house. “Mm, please hurry Roman. I don’t know how much longer I can wait for you.” You chuckled nervously.

You almost jolted back when Roman sped up the car. He took one hand off the steering wheel, placing it on your thigh and kneading the meat. Slowly but surely trailing up to your inner thigh.

You opened up so he could have better access, and he put his fingers moved your underwear to the side, hastily rubbing tight circular motions on your bundle of nerves.

You moaned out his name, gripping onto the seat below you as he worked his magic. “You’re so fucking wet for me already, huh?” Roman chuckled, already feeling himself stiffen.

But your pleasure had to come to a temporary end when his large mansion finally came into view.

Roman quickly lead you into his house, making a snide comment to Olivia before leading you up the staircase with haste.

“You’re not gonna walk right for a month after I’m through with you.” Roman said lowly, making you even more excited.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for the blueball, but I really didn’t feel up to writing a whole smut scene lol.

[abundanceofsoph]

SkyFire 3: Chapter 10

I’m free as a bird when I’m flying in your cage: Nov/Dec 2017  

Word count: 3k

SkyFire 3 MASTERLIST

Please for the love of god, if you like the story just hit the reblog button. I really don’t know how to say it nicely but it’s really starting to bother me and maybe that makes me a dick but so be it.

>Instagram posts

Thankfully, after a day and a half of vocal rest, Harry was ready to go for the Manchester show and he very much dialled his performance up to 11 for his hometown crowd. Just as she had told Grimmy, Aurora stayed off social media in the days following the interview, but she heard from others that a small section of the fandom was absolutely furious with her and the social media manager that Mark had hired years ago to clear out her comment sections was working overtime to keep some of the nastier shit from her feeds. As much as Aurora herself was able to avoid it all together, she knew that a lot of her fans would be reading the comments and she wanted to keep it safe for them. Harry’s team was also working to keep his own accounts clear as well, and while they couldn’t hide from what was being said about them or Louis and Elanor, they could try to filter out the worst of it. This was the one part of celebrity that they all agreed was the worst. It was the unfortunate consequence of having such passionate fans. Ella had no such inclination to avoid the comment sections and was spending her free time picking fights with Larries and attempting to set them straight on the reality of Harry and Louis’ relationship as nothing more than brotherly love. Aurora tried to urge her to let it go, but unfortunately her best friend was feisty and easy to anger which was not a good combination with how overprotective she was about her loved ones. By the time they stepped out onto the Manchester stage, both Rori and Harry were happy to put aside the drama and focus on the music.  Things started to cool down over the following week which took them up to Glasgow and then on to Stockholm, Berlin, Amsterdam, and Milan. By the time they returned to London on the 11th, the music video for Kiwi had been live for 3 days and the fans had thankfully moved on from Aurora’s interview in exchange for raving about the new video.  

They spent the first few days relaxing at home before Rori headed to North London to meet up with Liam at the recording studio he liked to use to work on the song he had mentioned at Niall’s launch party. Aurora had spent the last few weeks listening to the demo on repeat while pouring over the sheet music Liam had emailed her. She was obsessed with the song and the two had been messaging back and forth constantly, discussing the arrangement and which parts each of them would take. Stepping back into a recording studio, even one she’d never visited before, felt like coming home after weeks on the road and her face lit up immediately as soon as she caught sight of Liam,  wrapping her arms around him in a rib crushing hug.

“Ready to jump straight in?” he asked after letting her go.

“Absolutely,” she replied excitedly before following him as he introduced her to the producer and technicians that they would be working with for the following few days.

With a full week before Harry and Rori were due to  fly to Shanghai, neither she nor Liam were on a tight schedule to finish the song. This meant that the environment in the studio was very chilled and there were many tangents and breaks taken while they worked.

“How attached are you and Lou to the lyrics?” Rori asked on their second day in the studio.

“Of course, you want to change something,” Liam laughed in a response. “Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Rori replied with a laugh of her own. “I am who I am.”

“I know,” Liam agreed. “So, show me what you’re thinking.”

“I’ve been tossing around the pre-chorus and I was wondering if instead of what you lads have there, instead we go with this.”

I'm free as a bird When I'm flying in your cage I'm diving in deep And I'm riding with no brakes And I'm bleeding in love You're swimming in my veins You got me now

“Well fuck,” Liam replied. “Think I need to stop writing with Louis and start writing with you more often.”

“You like it?”

“Rors, I love it,” he said. “It’s way better than what we came up with. Let’s get back in the booth and record it.”

They ended up spending four days finishing the song which left Aurora with a few remaining days to catch up with Ella and also relax at home with her husband before they were thrown back into work.

xXx

The day before they were set to fly to China, Aurora headed over to Ella’s flat in Wimbledon. “I brought cake,” she yelled as she let herself into the flat with the spare key Ella had given her when Rori first moved back to London.

“Fuck yes!” Ella cheered in response, her voice carrying down the hall from the kitchen. “I’m just making us tea,” she continued as Rori made her way inside. “Get yourself comfy on the sofa and I’ll meet you in there, babe.”

Rori made herself at home in the living room, Ella’s elderly tabby cat Elliot, immediately padding over to make himself comfortable in her lap.

“You were recording with Liam this week yeah?” Ella asked as she joined Rori on the sofa, placing mugs of tea in front of them. “How was it?”

“God, it was so much fun El,” Rori sighed. “I didn’t realise how much I missed being in the studio. I mean don’t get me wrong, I love touring and I’m having an incredible time on the road, but it felt so good to be back recording again and it just has me itching to write again.”

“You should make sure to do more of it over the Christmas break then,” Ella pointed out. “Speaking of which are you going to be in New York or are you coming home for winter?”

“We’re planning a bit of both. Christmas and my birthday in New York with my dads and then we’ll come back here for February before the tour kicks off again in March. I think Gemma and Anne are going to join us for Christmas too and then when we get back Liam and I have made plans to have a writing session together. ”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Ella nodded before taking a sip of her tea. “Selfishly I’m glad you’ll be spending a decent chunk of time here. I miss you.”

“Urggh,” Rori groaned. “I miss you too. Was thinking of maybe doing something for Harry’s birthday and getting you, Lou, Liam, and Niall over to our flat for a game’s night or something. I feel like Harry could use something a little more lowkey this year after the insanity of tour.”

“Don’t feel like you need to invite me,” Ella replied awkwardly. “I mean, if you’re inviting the band over, I’m not really part of that group.”

“Oh bullshit,” Rori laughed. “They boys love you just like I do. You all get along great whenever we were all together for wedding stuff or the album launch. Why on earth would you feel like I shouldn’t invite you too?”

“Rori,” Ella sighed. “While yes, I have gotten along with yours and Harry’s friends in the past, that doesn’t mean that I run in the same circles as they do. They’re celebrities, you are a celebrity and I just think that sometimes you forget that I’m just your old friend from school. It’s two separate worlds that you live in.”

Aurora rolled her eyes in response, taking a sip of her tea while she compiled her rebuttal. “That’s such a load of shit El. They are mine and Harry’s friends and so are you. When we are away from the paparazzi, they are no different to you and me. I get that we grew up with their pictures on our bedroom walls but once you put that aside they’re just a bunch of really great guys that I think could become your close friends too if you let them in and stop freaking out around them.”

“Ok fine,” Ella agreed after a moment of silent staring between the two women. “I’ll try to get over myself and give them a chance next time we’re all in the same room. Can we change the subject now?”

“That’s all I’m asking for and absolutely we can change the subject. How’s things with Tim? Feel like we haven’t talked about him in a while.” Ella made a face and Aurora felt her heart break for her best friend. “When?” she asked softly. “What happened, love?”

“He broke it off a few weeks ago,” Ella explained. “Said he didn’t feel a spark or something.”

“I’m sorry babe, things seemed to be going so well when I left for the tour.”

“They were. At least I thought they were. We barely made it past 3 months before he gave up.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were half a world away having the best time,” Ella replied. “If I’d told you then you would have just felt guilty for not being here.”

“And now instead I feel guilty for not even being able to be a sympathetic ear since I couldn’t provide a shoulder. How are you now?”

“I’ll be ok. I’ve been a bit down in the dumps, but I think it’s for the best. He made some good points about me not really knowing what I wanted and he’s right. I think I’m gonna swear off dating until I really figure out who I am and what I’m looking for.”

“Well if you ever want help figuring out who you are, I think I know you pretty well by now.”

“I might take you up on that offer,” Ella said with a small smile before changing topic. “Now enough moping, you said you brought cake with you? You are never going to believe the scandal that’s broken out amongst some of the girls in my Colonial History class.”

xXx

Occasionally something would happen in Aurora’s life that would give her pause and remind her how incredibly ludicrous her life had become. Standing behind her keyboard in the middle of a Victoria Secrets show in Shanghai while her husband sang and danced his heart out in front of her while literally supermodels strutted past them was one of those moments.

It was hard for her to believe that only 2 days ago she was sitting on her best friend’s sofa eating a chocolate cake from Sainsbury’s and discussing the latest high school drama playing out in Ella’s classroom. She found herself thinking about how her mother would react if she somehow had a way to travel back in time seven years and tell her about this moment and all the other life changing moments that had occurred since they parted. It was while her thoughts were caught on her mother that Harry turned, catching her eye, a mile-wide smile lighting up his face as he winked at her, causing her own smile to grow in response. No matter how strange her life had become and how much everything had changed since she was an average teenager living above a small bar, she knew that she wouldn’t change a single thing that had happened if it meant ending up here with Harry smiling at her like that.

xXx

Following the Victoria Secrets show, the band arrived in Singapore early and spent a few days exploring before their show there after which the flew on to Australia, a country that Harry had toured many times over the years with One Direction, but Aurora had never managed to visit herself. They had a week in the land Down Under, with shows in both Sydney and Melbourne and Aurora made it her mission to see as much as she could of the 2 state capitals, often dragging Harry or other members of the band along on her adventures. Given that it was the last week of November everywhere was getting into the Christmas spirit, however since it was the southern hemisphere the weather was scorching hot and the group found the combination highly entertaining, if somewhat baffling.

While in Sydney they took in the iconic sights such as Bondi beach, the Opera House, and the Harbour Bridge, as well as a day trip out to explore the Blue Mountains. In Melbourne they visited the Eureka Tower with it’s Skydeck that offered an amazing view of the city spread out beneath them. They also spent some time at the Melbourne Zoo and National Gallery of Victoria, then the day after their show at the Forum, they were taken on a drive out of the city and down along the coastal Great Ocean Road.

The tour stop in Auckland was similarly packed out with touristy opportunities where Aurora’s highlight was the art gallery Toi o Tāmaki. While the laid back vibes in both Australia and New Zealand captured Aurora’s attention, it was the week they spent in Tokyo that held Harry’s, so much so that while everyone else headed home the day after the last show, the young couple made a last minute change to their travel plans and extended their stay by an additional week to explore the city more.

Once again, Tokyo was somewhere that Harry had visited many times with the band while Aurora had never been, and he enjoyed to opportunity to show her his favourite parts. Something Aurora noticed almost immediately about Tokyo was that unlike in the US or the UK, people either didn’t recognize them when they were out and about or they did but respected their privacy and left them alone. She pointed this out to Harry on their second day wandering the city streets and he smiled back at her, agreeing that it was something he’d also noticed in a previous visit and had definitely played a role in him falling in love with the city.

They spent their days wandering the streets, ducking into quirky shops that caught their eye and just revelling in the normalcy of being together in public. As they walked, they both realized that they had never had this; a chance to be like everyone else crowding the sidewalks around them. Save for stolen moments in the early days of their relationship like their first date in Hampstead Heath or when they were able to sneak into galleries on quiet days, they’d never really been able to be themselves within a crowd. They’d always needed to wrap a scarf that little bit higher around their chins or wear a hat a little lower on their heads or glasses a little bit larger. To walk hand in hand like any other couple was freeing in a way that Rori hadn’t realized she’d been missing, and she soaked up every moment of their time in Tokyo. If only for a week she felt like she was living the life she would have had if her mother hadn’t died. If she had continued living as a normal girl from Wimbledon instead of being thrust into the spotlight, free to live her life without the scrutiny of the press and the public. Of course, it wasn’t lost on her that the man holding her hand wouldn’t be Harry in this parallel universe and for that she would happily trade in her freedom. She could accept that the price she paid to be married to Harry and be Steve and Tony’s daughter was that she would never really be allowed to have this normality, so she simply tried to make the most of their time before they flew on to New York for Christmas. They never spoke about any of this during their little vacation away from their lives but even without voicing her thoughts, Rori was certain that Harry was thinking the same thing and would willingly make the same sacrifices for the life they had built together.

xXx

Both Aurora and Harry were exhausted by the time they reached New York and were grateful to find Happy waiting for them as soon as they exited the arrivals terminal at JFK. He offered a quick hug to Rori before collecting their bags from them and leading them to the town car waiting for them. She leant against Harry in the back seat as they made the hour long drive into Manhattan. Her blinks began to lengthen as the airport shrank in the rear-view mirror and she was fast asleep before they reached Queens. Harry had to gently coax her awake once they finally reached the tower and she slowly made her way out of the car and into the elevator up to the penthouse. Tony and Steve were waiting up for their arrival and excitedly pulled their daughter into tight hugs the moment she stepped out of the elevator. It was Steve that noticed the way both Rori and Harry’s eyelids seem to droop and their gazes glazed over while Tony asked them a dozen questions about their recent adventures, and Rori was grateful when her Pops shooed them both off to bed with promises that they could catch up properly over a homecooked breakfast the next morning. They were barely conscious by the time they stripped out of their clothes and crawled into bed, however Aurora remained awake just long enough the think about how good it felt to be home.

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3                               

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

tw // eating disorders for the name of the song but I’m Not Bulimic by Lower Than Atlantis would be a really good song to base a modern!AU of TYO on due to the parallels between thatchers Britain and the credit crunch at the end of the 00s

Hi, anon!

Yeah, totally! Anything angry at British politics has to have at least a little bit of a TYO feel. Actually, it's really weird listening to that song and hearing the 2010 vibes in it... And then realising 2010 was 11 years ago. 😶 If we were going to have the lads as Millennials (so say it's set a decade ago), then the credit crunch and the coalition and all of that bollocks would be high on their list of concerns. Austerity, anyone?

That said, Gen Z young ones (hello there), whilst likely also having a truly groovy time growing up under successive shitty Tory governments, also now have this pandemic on the doorstep of adulthood as well as just having gone through Gove's nasty exam changes and rising tuition fees. And Brexit. Which, of course, the majority of Gen Z had no say in and yet will have to live with the consequences of, whatever they may be.

So, concerning a modern TYO set at any point since the credit crunch, I for one would like to hear Rick rip the Liberal Democrats a new one (in his own ineffective, misguided way) when they went back on their 2010 election promise once in coalition with the Conservatives and agreed to raising university tuition fees. To be honest, Rick's take on anything from the last decade would surely be amusing. There's already a post of him in Summer Holiday floating around Tumblr somewhere, replacing "Thatcher's bloody Britain" with "Boris' bloody Britain". I also think he'd have been one of the young people (at least, on the surface) to become a Corbynista.

Sorry for only really mentioning Rick, he's the "political" one - he'd still hate Thatcher, by the way, he'd just probably know even less about her. I think all of the young ones would be pissed off about tuition fees, because even in the 1980s with grants (albeit shrinking ones - thanks, Thatch) they were still living in squalor. I know you don't start paying back the fees until after uni and when you're earning over a certain amount, but it's not a nice reminder dangling over you. They'd definitely all need to get jobs alongside studying - or maybe Neil could just get four jobs. 😂

Mike could still be a perpetual student, it's just his reasons for being one might be different now: he's not going to get any money for it, it just starves off finding a "career" when you don't know what you want to do. I can see him putting off the inevitability of finding work, even it it leaves him with a bloody lot of fees to pay off should he ever earn enough to do so (which is debatable). Neil likely wouldn't be very into politics - I mean, he didn't know who Norman Tebbit was in Oil - because it would depress him. He wouldn't like the Tories but he probably wouldn't know the nuances of everything going on... Although, to be fair, I don't think any of them would.

Vyvyan would just be bloody sick of everything. Still a punk and still violent... Probably not so much interested in politics as interested in pissing off authority figures. Still nihilistic. Rick would doubtless be sure he was about to lead a rising to make things better at any moment - the last decade has had a lot of big political moments, after all - but literally no one likes him so that's not going to happen. Much excitement and jeering on the night of the 2017 election; much depression and anger on the night of the 2019 election.

And that's just a vague dip into TYO and recent British politics. What would they think of modern culture? Social media? Reality TV? Wokeness? Whatever the fuck is going on with America?

The Young Ones is very much of its time in that it was produced in a world where it was risqué and cutting edge to swear and be violent and political on TV. That's no longer the case - thanks, in no small part, to TYO - so if it was made today (which I don't think it could be), it likely wouldn't be viewed as so ground breaking.

But TYO modern AUs? Keep 'em coming! And keep your eyes on Scumbag Monthly in the coming months...

Thanks for the ask! Sorry I went completely off topic... Again.

[maraudererasmut]

Experiment MJ001

TW: Drug and alcohol use. Mentions of drugs and alcohol use by minors. 

Marjiuana is legal in my country. It has been for a while.

I’ve always been very nervous about things in my life. Not anything in specific, just things in general. I had spend so long being repressed by my parents, I had cotten it in my head that drugs = bad and since marjiuana = drug, QED marjiuana = bad. 

Today, I decided to do something out of the ordinary and purchase a (legal) chocolate bar from the pot store and try it out!

So, I am currently high for the very first time in my life! (I’m in my late 20s)

I had an idea that I thought was brilliant at the time to write Wolfstar fan fiction about Remus getting high for the first time WHILE I was high and see what happened!

I also decided that I’m going to POST IT. Without editing it! (Pure, unadulterated chaos!!!) Now, for your viewing pleasure, the ramblings of a T on Pot. I have no idea if this is good or not. I haven’t read through it yet. I’ll probably wake up tomorrow, read this, regret it and delete it. But until then... enjoy!

((I’m sorry if it’s terrible!!!))

((I am also currently still high while typing this, so I apologize for any errors!!))

Remus had never consumed marjiuana before. Growing up, his parents had been very strict with what kinds of medication he was allowed to consume, particularly in regards to his lycanthropy. “You don’t know how it will affect the wolf, Remus.” “You don’t know what will happen…” “We can’t predict how the wolf will react…” 

Magic had always been the go-to remedies for colds or maladies; Muggle drugs were never to be trusted in the LUpin home.

So when Remus got drunk for the first time, he made sure that his friends were around to help him through the experience. 

Now, in his seventh year of school, Remus finally built up enough courage to ask his friends to, once-again, monitor Remus while he was testing the waters.

Remus sat with the three other Marauders, staring at the brownie in his hand.

“Are you sure this is safe?” he groaned, internally terrified of what may happen. The scent of the brownie wafted through the air, and Remus cursed his wolfish senses as his mind began convincing him that this might be worth it for the chocolate alone.

“”Yeah, I’m sure, Moons…” Sirius teased, licking his lips like a cartoon wolf sizing up a prized pig as he stared at his own brownie.

“Yeah, Pads and I have done this hundreds of times!” James chimed in, already  half way through his. “It’s fine!”

“You’re not werewolves,” Remus grumbled as he turned to Peter. “You’re the sensible one, Wormy. What do you think?”

Peter stared at Remus for a moment before breaking out into a smile. 

“I say fuck it!” he said, taking a bite out of his own brownie. “You only live once, Moons!”

Remus closed his eyes, took a bite from his brownie, chewed and swallowed. 

Nothing happened.

No big bang, no swirling in his brain, no sudden rush of feeling. 

“It’s… not working?” He said, turning to Sirius.

“Give it a bit, Moons! It takes time to work! It’s like alcohol!”

“Okay,” Remus said with a shrug, finishing the rest of his brownie. “So… what do I do until then?”

Sirius shrugged, but his smirk gave him away. He sat back onto the pillows and blankets that they had dragged to the ground, his head resting precariously close to Remus’ lap. He grinned up at Remus before reaching for his wand and giving a lazy flick into the air. 

Sirius’ record player began to spin, and All Along the Watchtower began playing, filling the entire room and seeping into Remus’ bones.

Remus laid back on the pillows, his head next to Sirius’. He closed his eyes and let Hendrix drift through his mind, trying not to let Sirius’ scent drive him crazy. 

Remus didn’t feel anything.

Not for a while.

He didn’t think it was even working.

The boys had spent the next hour talking, chatting, chilling, as they usually do on Saturday evenings. They talked about girls (James complaining about Lily), boys (Sirius’ trists with that Ravenclaw boy), and everything in between (Peter’s insistence that, yes, James, he is still Asexual. And no, James, he doesn’t need to double check.) 

Remus didn’t notice the time passing as he laid on the pillows next to his friends, for the first time in his life actually being able to participate fully. They normally spend evenings hanging out in the middle of the room. James and Sirius always got high. They had since they had discovered Muggle weed last year. Peter had partaken on occasion, but usually insisted that he preferred a couple of beers over weed. Remus, on the other hand, remained sober all night, watching his friends fall into various states of inebriation, testing their limits, seeing new sides of themselves. 

This was his first time.

Remus smiled to himself, thinking about how much fun it is to participate, even if he didn’t know what being high felt like yet. 

“What’re you smiling about?”

Sirius’ voice was practically a purr in Remus’ ear, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. 

“M’not… Not really. Just… happy to be here with you lads....”

“Mmm, same, Moons. Happy to be here… Today’s a good day to be alive…”

“That’s a weird thing to say…” Remus rolled over and looked at Sirius. 

Was Sirius always that handsome? Did his eyes always sparkle silver in their conjured lights? Did his hair always look that soft and touchable? What would happen if Remus touched it? Was his skin always so pale, so milky while, Remus had to resist leaning over and tasting it. Remus edged his arm over slightly, comparing his own freckle-dusted arm to Sirius’. One was slender and perfect and tattooed and lovely. One was broken and scarred and ugly. 

It was no wonder Sirius never noticed Remus.

“Whatya thinkin’ ‘bout?”

Sirius’ voice distracted Remus from his thoughts. 

“Mm? What’d’ya mean?” 

I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles…

The Who was playing in the background and Remus watched as Sirius’ head bobbed up and down to the music, a wide grin spread across his perfect cheeks. 

“I mean you’re thinkin’ of stuff. We all are… I am… That’s what makes things so cool when you’re high… You think of stuff…”

Remus blinked. What was Sirius even saying? What had he been doing? Was he thinking? He seemed to be thinking…

His brain felt like the needle was skipping across the record. Or that more than one record was playing at a time. Everything that was said out loud was one record in one player, and a vision of him talking to Sirius from a bird’s eye view was another record. And the way the music blended into his brain was another record. 

Was this what being high was?

“I’m thinking of the music… I guess. And… Mrs. Robinson…”

“Ha ha! That’s that one Hufflepuff chick, ya?”

“What? No… it’s… coo coo ca choo?” Remus closed his eyes. His mind was feeling a bit foggy. 

Put it in your pantry with your cupcakes…

“Oh! Yeah! Jesus holds a place for those who pray…”

“Hey hey hey!” James’ voice came from miles away. Or across the room. To Remus, it felt like both at once.

“Yeah,” Remus said with a grin, rolling over onto his left side to face Sirius. “Coo coo choo, Mrs. Robinson….”

“BOYS!” Peter hollered from the other side of the room. “Hot Blooded! This is my jam!”

Remus grinned, listening as the sound of guitar filled the room. He tapped along to the song, watching Sirius watch the ceiling.

“What are you thinking about, Pads?”

Sirius tilted his head towards Remus and gave a wink. 

“That I’m hot blooded,” he said, his tongue resting on his fang. 

“Pfftt… You’re just a horny mutt…” Remus teased. He felt an immediate pang of regret as Remus realized that Sirius was likely horny for a certain Ravenclaw boy. 

“Mmm, bet you are too. Not that you’d ever date anyone… But I bet you’re real bad, Moons… “

Remus rolled his eyes, trying to keep his heart from exploding from his chest with terror. Why was Sirius talking about how horny Remus was? That wasn’t something Sirius ever talked about. 

“You know how it is… not allowed. The whole… furry little problem…”

Oooh, I’m picking up good vibrations, oooh she’s giving me excitations…

“I’ve told you, just date one of us…”

Remus chuckled, trying not to show how much he wished he could. 

“Oh yeah, James would totally ditch Lily for me,” Remus teased, listening to the Beach Boys suddenly start the quiet part of Good VIbrations. 

“I didn’t say date James…”

“Oh, Sorry… Peter then… Yup. That seems like a great idea…”

Good good good good vibrations!!

“Are those really your only choices?”

Sirius was on his side at this point, facing Remus head-on, giving a sly grin. 

Normally, Remus would laugh this off as a joke and change the subject. Perhaps talk about the fact that Sirius had American Woman on his magical mixed-record. 

Today was different though. Today, Remus was feeling a little bolder. A little dizzier. A little more capable of looking at the situation differently.

Most days, from the very beginning of his life, Remus had been taught to be small, demure, less than other people. He knew not to make waves or say what was on his mind, because he was not to draw attention to himself. Today, for the first time in his entire life, Remus was starting to understand what it felt like to be a normal person. Someone who wasn’t a werewolf. Someone who didn’t grow up being told that they had to hide themselves because of societal pressures. Today, he could suddenly just say whatever he thought and felt and there was absolutely nothing keeping him from saying it. 

“I can’t very well date you, Padfoot. What would that poor Ravenclaw boy do without you in his life?”

“Who, Spencer? Nah, we were never an item. Just fooling around…”

“Fine then,” Remus said with finality, trying to shrug while on his side. Whoooo are you? Who who, who who? “I suppose you’re the only person in all of Hogwarts who I can date.” 

Sirius grinned his wicked grin, inching closer to Remus, his eyes positively smouldering. 

“I suppose so. Guess we’re to call it, then. We’re dating now…”

Whooo are you? Who who? Who who?

Aaaawww, who the fuck are you?

“Hear that Prongs,” Remus said, playing along with the joke. “Sirius and I are dating now.”

“Well it’s about goddamn time,” James yelled back.

Remus chuckled to himself, but when he opened his eyes, Sirius was there. In front of him, their noses almost touching… There was a moment…

Whoooo are you? Who who? Who who?

Remus inched closer, rubbing his nose to Sirius’, just playing along, just being silly, just keeping up with the game.

Sirius closed the gap.

Remus sank into the kiss, feeling Sirius’ lips against his own, Sirius’ tongue tasting like chocolate and pot, Sirius’ hands suddenly around his waist. 

Then Remus pulled away.

Who are you? Who who? Who who?

“Who the fuck are you?”

Sirius laughed, pulling himself slightly away from Remus.

“I just wanted to see how far you’d be willing to play along! I didn’t realize you’d actually let me kiss you!”

“Fuck…” Remus swore, starting to feel angry at Sirius. “Shit... I thought maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“Nothing…”

“Maybe what, Remus?”

“Nothing, Sirius.” Sirius’ lips were against Remus’ again, but the werewolf knew better this time. He pulled away, his eyes narrowing. “Stop dicking around.”

“I’m not dicking around…” Sirius whispered, his voice dropping low and rumbly. Remus felt a chill down his spine as House of the Rising Sun played in the background.  

“Don’t kiss me if you don’t mean it,” Remus grumbled, before he had a chance to think about his words and and regret saying him, Sirius was kissing him again. Remus tasted his tongue and lips and the thrill of kissing someone he had wanted to kiss for as long as he could remember. Sirius pulled away, his eyes gleaming and ravenous. 

“I mean it,” he cooed. “I—”

Before he could continue, Remus was pressed into Sirius, taking advantage of his inebriated state and lack of over-thinking. 

“Get a room, you prats!” James called across the room. Remus didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything except the feeling of Sirius’ body against his own, Sirius’ hands around his hips, Sirius’ tongue in his mouth, Sirius’ teeth nipping his lower lip. Everything was Sirius.

Remus closed his eyes and lost himself in his Padfoot. He silently prayed that things could stay this easy forever, but deep inside, he knew that would be a dangerous path to head down...

[hlupdate]

Here he comes, one of the planet’s most conspicuous young men, stepping out of the London drizzle and into a dusty suburban pub. If there was an old vinyl record player in the place it would scratch quiet. Instead, the two-dozen punters turn hushed and intent, as if a unicorn has just trotted in off the street, and nobody wants to scare it off. “That’s frickin’ Harry frickin’ Styles,” whispers a young man at the bar, “in this pub.” The pop star is asked what he wants to drink and in a voice already inclined to undertones, quietly orders a cup of tea.

A former teen star who is now 25, a happier and rockier solo artist since his boyband One Direction split a few years ago, Styles has hidden himself inside a large, swamp-green parka. He’s tall, around the 6ft mark, and carries himself with a slight stoop. If Styles could only do something about his appearance from the neck up (elfin brow, wide Joker smile, a face that’s recognisable across multiple continents) you sense he could drink in pubs like this anonymously enough. As it is, cover blown, he removes the parka. A woolly jumper beneath has a picture of the planet Saturn on it. Maybe they’ve heard of Styles there, too.

We take a seat in the corner. On nearby tables, conversations start to sputter as people try to keep their own talk ticking along on autopilot while straining to hear what Styles says. I ask him about the sheer strangeness of this and other aspects of fame. Full stadiums, swooning admirers, an excess of opportunity and cash. Why isn’t Styles an absolute ordeal of a human being by now? Keith Richards, at a comparable stage, imagined himself the pirate leader of a travelling nation-state, unbound by international law. Elton John was on vast amounts of cocaine. Meanwhile, here’s Harry, known in the music industry as a bit of a freak, medically, having maintained abnormally high levels of civility in his system. 

Styles tilts his head, flattered. There are others, he promises. “People who are successful, and still nice. It’s when you meet the people who are successful and aren’t nice, you think: What’s yer excuse? Cos I’ve met the other sort.”

Styles read Keith Richards’ autobiography a while back, and he recently finished Elton’s, too. (“Soooo much cocaine,” he marvels.) We talk for a bit about whether extreme dissolute behaviour and artistic greatness go hand in hand. Styles, who has just released his second solo album, Fine Line, the penultimate track of which is called Treat People With Kindness, has to hope not. “I just don’t think you need to be a dick to be a good artist. But, then, there are also a lot of good artists who are dicks. So. Hmm. Maybe I need to start scaring babies in supermarkets?” 

A couple of lads hustle over to offer drinks. A photo is requested; they say they’ll wait. I’m weirdly anxious about Styles’s phone, which is slung on the table in front of him. What must be the black-market value of that thing? If fans were to get hold of it, would they want to open Styles’s music app first, to listen to tracks from the new album, or rush to see his messages and calls, to find out who Styles has been flirting with late at night? The interest in his music has always run at a ratio of about 50/50 with the interest in who he is dating.

It’s a ratio Styles tries to adjust in favour of the music by being vague about his ex-partners, real and rumoured (Taylor Swift, Kendall Jenner, Parisian model Camille Rowe), diverting to discuss his songs about failed relationships. A year ago, when Styles was floating around near this pub in north London, where he lives, and California, where he tends to record, looking for inspiration for the new album, his close friend Tom Hull told him: “Just date amazing women, or men, or whatever, who are going to fuck you up… Let it affect you and write songs about it.” 

Styles, who writes in collaboration with Hull and producer Tyler Johnson, sounds as if he took the advice. The new album, Fine Line, is at its best when capturing late-hours moments, drunk calls, “wandering hands”, kitchen snogs. A golden-haired lover recurs. There are up tracks, down tracks, some with the trippy delirium of harpsichord-era Stones, others with the angsty Britpop swell of strings. While I listened, I couldn’t help scribbling down names, possible subjects. On the lyric “There’s a piece of you in how I dress” I wrote: maybe Kendall? In a song about a lover “way too bright for me”: surely Taylor.

Styles says he keeps to a general rule: write what comes and don’t think about it too much afterwards. The only time he worries about an individual lyric is if it risks putting an ex in a difficult position. “If a song’s about someone, is that fine? Or is that gonna get annoying for them, if people try to decipher it?” Has he ever got that judgment call wrong and taken a bollocking from an angry ex? Styles raises an eyebrow. “Maybe ask me in a month.��� 

I quiz him on something I’ve often wondered about. Why are the very famous so inclined to hook up with the very famous? From the outside it looks twice the hassle, with twice the odds of ending badly. “Don’t we all do that, though?” Styles asks. “Go into things that feel relatively doomed from the start?” I ask him why he doesn’t date normals. He seems tickled: “Um. I mean, I do. I have a private life. You just don’t know about it.” 

Styles doesn’t particularly like being asked about his love life, but is amused all the same, as he is about most things. When I ask about the logistics of someone as well known as him dating someone anonymous (“Do you need to give them, like, some sort of primer?”), Styles snorts with laughter. 

“Uh-h-h. Like any conversation, I guess, it’s easier if you’re honest. But I try to let it come up when it comes up. Cos that’s a weird thing to talk about, y’know? If you’ve just started seeing someone, and you’re, like: [he adopts a throaty, mission-briefing voice] So! This is what’s gonna happen!” Styles holds out his hands: no, ta. “I don’t wanna have that conversation, man. It would be fucking weird.” 

And not very sexy, I say.

“Not sexy,” Styles says, “no.”

A quick aside about his accent, which is hard to capture in print. (“Nat sexy, no.”) After a workout in a hotel gym recently, Styles says he was taken aback (“taken abeck”) to be asked by a stranger whether he was speaking in a fake voice. He was appalled. But after so long crossing borders and time zones, living and working between England and the US, the accent has undergone a jazzy remix, and tends to get farthest from its Cheshire roots when he’s around strangers. Once Styles begins to get comfortable in the pub, the flatter, no-nonsense sounds of his youth return. Nowpe he says, for nope. Fook, for fuck.

“What the fook are they?” This was the response of his childhood pals, he remembers, back in the village of Holmes Chapel, when little Harry had the gumption to show up in the playground wearing Chelsea boots instead of the approved chunky trainers. Styles’s parents had separated when he was very young, but there is no origin-story trauma: he has always stayed close to both. His mother, Anne, would praise his singing voice in the car, and when Styles was 16 it was agreed he could audition for a singing contest on TV.

“The craziest part about the whole X Factor thing,” says Styles, who auditioned for the ITV reality show in 2010, “is that it’s so instant. The day before, you’ve never been on telly. Then suddenly…” Suddenly you’re a piece of national property. “You don’t think at the time, ‘Oh, maybe I should keep some of my personal stuff back for myself.’ Partly because, if you’re a 16-year-old who does that, you look like a jumped-up little shit. Can you imagine? ‘Sorry, actually, I’d rather not comment…’ You don’t know what to be protective of.”

By the winter of 2010, Styles was a fan favourite, a key member of One Direction, a five-piece that enjoyed enormous national exposure and gathered millions of fans before any music had been released. Cameras filmed every part of their rise. There wasn’t any time in the dark to practise, test things out, mentally brace. “We didn’t get to dip in a toe,” Styles says. “But, listen, I was a kid, all I knew was: I didn’t have to go to school any more. I thought it was fucking great.” He remembers having a lot of fun, and being well taken care of. He jokes: “Maybe it’s something I’ll have to deal with a bit later. When I wake up in my 40s and think: Arrrggh.”

In February 2012, One Direction were feted at the Brit Awards, hours before they were due to fly to the US for the first time. On TV that night they looked young, silly, chuffed – on the precipice of something huge, and with no clue at all. Their subsequent wonder-run (five platinum albums, four world tours) had its foundations in their ridiculous popularity in the States. Right away, Styles remembers, “We were fuelling a machine. Keeping the fire going.” He remembers it as a stimulating time; maybe overstimulating. “Coming out of it, when the band stopped, I realised that the thing I’d been missing, because it was all so fast paced, was human connection.”

I first met Styles in 2014, around the time the lack of human connection was starting to bite. One Direction were promoting their penultimate album and I’d been commissioned to write about themthe Guardian. Management felt the boys were so exhausted that my minutes in their presence had to be strictly counted. Inside a circle of cripplingly hot lights, while someone ran the stopwatch, we interacted as humanly as we could.

I remember how jaded the best singer in the group, Zayn Malik, seemed. (Malik was weeks away from quitting.) I also remember how flattered and bewildered the others were to be asked a few grownup questions – and not what Louis Tomlinson would later describe to me as “who’s-your-favourite-superhero… all that shit”. Styles was watchful and quiet that day. By total chance, a week later, we were in the same London cafe and he tapped my shoulder. He was having lunch with friends. “Will ya join us?” 

t struck me as a quietly classy move. I was fascinated to see him interact with mates he’d chosen for himself. Styles was dry and funny, older than his years. After lunch we said the usual things about keeping in touch, and followed each other on Twitter. I kept an eye on his updates, about leaving One Direction, releasing an impressive, self-titled debut album in 2017, playing for 36,000 people in Madison Square Garden in New York, acting in Christopher Nolan’s Oscar-nominated war movie Dunkirk. Meanwhile, I did my best to manage the mess that had been made of my own account after Styles’s Twitter follow ignited a small explosion of teenage longing in my mentions. For at least a year I received weekly, sometimes daily, pleas from people who wanted messages conveyed to “H”. Still now, every few days, fans in America, Asia and Europe follow me to “see what H sees” in their timeline. 

He has around 50 million social media followers, and with that comes the ability to ripple the internet like somebody airing a bedsheet. I’ve noticed, though, how rarely Styles directs people to support specific causes, last doing so in 2018, when he encouraged people to join a march against gun violence. Why don’t you use your influence more, I ask? “Because of dilution. Because I’d prefer, when I say something, for people to think I mean it.” He runs his fingertips across the table. “To be honest, I’m still searching for that one thing, y’know. Something I can really stand up for, and get behind, and be like: This Is My Life Fight. There’s a power to doing the one thing. You want your whole weight behind it.”

It’s one of the things that sets Styles apart, the way he puts his whole weight behind the different aspects of this strange job. If you watch footage of him as a guest host on Saturday Night Live last month, Styles plunges in, fully inhabiting the silliness of every sketch. He has good songs in his repertoire (2017’s ballad Sign Of The Times stands out), and would probably admit to some middling songs that attest to his relative inexperience as a writer. But whichever of his songs Styles performs, he goes all-in, trusting that his zest and energy will hold an audience’s attention. He approaches this interview in roughly the same spirit, not enjoying every question, fidgeting, pleading for clemency once or twice, but giving everything due consideration.

I bring up something Styles joked about earlier: the possibility of waking up in his 40s with deferred mental health problems.

“Mm,” he says

Have you thought about therapy, I ask, to get ahead of that?

“I go,” he says. “Not every week. But whenever I feel I need it. For a really long time I didn’t try therapy, because I wanted to be the guy who could say: ‘I don’t need it.’ Now I realise I was only getting in my own way.” He shrugs. “It helps.”

Lately he’s been reading a lot (Lisa Taddeo’s Three Women stood out). He’s watched a lot of Netflix (crime thrillers and music docs). He recently cried through Slave Play on Broadway. I sense in Styles, at 25, a pent-up undergraduate hunger, maybe a desire to make up for lost time. “I’ve definitely been wanting to learn stuff, try stuff,” he says. “Things I didn’t grow up around. Things I’d always been a little bit sceptical about. Like therapy, like meditation. All I need to hear is someone saying, ‘Apparently, it’s amazing’, and I’ll try it. When I was in Los Angeles once, I heard about juice cleanses. I thought, yeah, I’ll do a juice cleanse.”

How messy were the results?

“You mean…?” Styles raises an eyebrow, recalling the poos. “They were all right. I was just hungry. And bored.”

One notable feature of Styles’s solo career has been his headlong embrace of unconventional clothing. A 2017-18 tour could have been sponsored by the Dulux colour wheel: mustard tones in Sydney, shocking pink in Dallas. In a more serious sense, some of Styles’s choices have fed into an important political discussion about gendered fashion. In May, as a co-host at the Met Gala in New York, he stepped out in a sheer blouse and a pearl earring. One evening’s work challenged a lot of stubborn preconceptions about who gets to wear what.

He says: “What women wear. What men wear. For me it’s not a question of that. If I see a nice shirt and get told, ‘But it’s for ladies.’ I think: ‘Okaaaay? Doesn’t make me want to wear it less though.’ I think the moment you feel more comfortable with yourself, it all becomes a lot easier.”

What do you mean, I ask?

Styles is leaning forward, hands folded around his cup of tea. “A part of it was having, like, a big moment of self-reflection. And self-acceptance.” He has a habit, when he’s made a definitive statement, of raising his chin and nodding a little, as if to decide whether he still agrees with himself. “I think it’s a very free, and freeing, time. I think people are asking, ‘Why not?’ a lot more. Which excites me. It’s not just clothes where lines have been blurred, it’s going across so many things. I think you can relate it to music, and how genres are blurring…”

Sexuality, too, I say.

“Yep,” says Styles. “Yep.”

There’s a popular perception, I say, that you don’t define as straight. The lyrics to your songs, the clothes you choose to wear, even the sleeve of your new record – all of these things get picked apart for clues that you’re bisexual. Has anyone ever asked you though?

“Um. I guess I haaaaave been asked? But, I dunno. Why?”

You mean, why ask the question?

“Yeah, I think I do mean that. It’s not like I’m sitting on an answer, and protecting it, and holding it back. It’s not a case of: I’m not telling you cos I don’t want to tell you. It’s not: ooh this is mine and it’s not yours.”

What is it then?

“It’s: who cares? Does that make sense? It’s just: who cares?”

I suppose my only question, then, is about the stuff that looks like clue dropping. Because if you don’t want people to care, why hint? Take the album sleeve for Fine Line. With its horizontal pink and blue stripes, a splash of magenta, the design seems to gesture at the trans and bisexual pride flags. Which is great – unless the person behind it happens to be a straight dude, sprinkling LGBTQ crumbs that lead nowhere. Does that make sense?

Styles nods. “Am I sprinkling in nuggets of sexual ambiguity to try and be more interesting? No.” As for the rest, he says, “in terms of how I wanna dress, and what the album sleeve’s gonna be, I tend to make decisions in terms of collaborators I want to work with. I want things to look a certain way. Not because it makes me look gay, or it makes me look straight, or it makes me look bisexual, but because I think it looks cool. And more than that, I dunno, I just think sexuality’s something that’s fun. Honestly? I can’t say I’ve given it any more thought than that.”

In our musty corner of the pub we’ve somehow passed a couple of hours in intense discussion. We’ll lighten up, before Styles heads home, with some chat about clever films (Marriage Story), stupider viral videos (the little boy who’s just learned the word “apparently”), that favourite-superhero stuff that, after all, has its place. He talks about the curious double time scheme of a pop star’s life – those crammed 18-hour days and then the sudden empty off-time when Styles might find himself walking miles across London to buy a book, afterwards congratulating himself: “Well, that’s an hour filled.”

Before we stand up I ask if he’s minded any of my questions.

He pushes out his lips, possibly recalling them one by one, then shakes his head. “What I would say, about the whole being-asked-about-my-sexuality thing – this is a job where you might get asked. And to complain about it, to say you hate it, and still do the job, that’s just silly. You respect that someone’s gonna ask. And you hope that they respect they might not get an answer.”

I tell him I do.

“Cool.”

Styles has to find those lads who wanted a photo. He scoops his phone off the table and flicks his thumb around the screen. Lately, he says, when he messes around on his phone in an idle moment, it’s mostly to look at videos – clips that his friends have sent him, in which their kids sing along to music he’s made. “Never gets old,” Styles says, beaming.

A few years ago, when he emerged from the boyband, blinking, shattered, he set himself three tasks: prioritise friends, learn how to be an adult, achieve a proper balance between the big and the small. Full stadiums, provocative outfits – Styles genuinely loves these things. “But I guess I’ve realised, as well,” he says, “that the coolest things are not always the cool things. Do you know what I mean?” He grabs his parka and his phone and, a little stooped, heads for home.

[conelly]

( luke hemmings, twenty-two, cismale, he/him ) did you see BYRON CONELLY walking down main street earlier?  you know who i’m talking about, they’re a DECKHAND.  everybody in town says that they’re SANGUINE & NONJUDGEMENTAL, but have a tendency to be IMPRESSIONABLE & VOLATILE too.  BYRON has been in town for ONE AND A BIT years. c'mon, they’re always requesting SWEET CAROLINE by NEIL DIAMOND at karaoke nights.  well, i’m sure you’ll see them soon! ( ooc: sunny, 22, she/her, est )

hi thanks for tuning in, SUNNY here to tell you all a lil bit about westmere’s very own new nd improved favorite loser below. sorry for this summary being all over the place, it’s kinda how my brain works heh which is kinda perfect bc byron will for SURE be all over the place too ( u can rly tell at a certain point i was like ok i give up + i’m posting mf ). let me know if u have any questions about ‘em and most importantly, lmk if you would like to plot a lil connect or sumn 😙

@westmerestarters​ 

FAMBAM + BACKGROUND

born 14 years after the elder conelly ( wanted brother connect !!! ) entered this word to two parents who didn’t seem to read the job description, it was clear that byron wasn’t planned. and down the line, he’d soon realize through the tumultuous household he was brought up in - perhaps never even wanted.

byron’s parents had one constant - and that was fighting. over anything, all the time. there just wasn’t any love between the two and they stayed together for whatever meaningless reasons until byron hit middle school. ( there might’ve been a super short lull in toxicity once byron was born, but it had to be short as his first memories are nothing shy of toxic. )  it was a messy separation ( they never paid the full legal fees for a full divorce ) - his father moving to the coast of nj & his mother moving to a smaller apartment nearby her own mother ( which, due to the negative relationship among his mother + grandmother, also called for more tension ). he’d often be dropped off @ his grandmother’s house for baby-sitting or when he was ‘ becoming too much to handle. ’ eventually his grandmother moved into his cousin’s house ( MONROE ) and although grateful he made a practically new brother, similar tendencies of feeling unwanted occurred when byron noticed their grandmother praising and coddling and favoriting monroe just a bit more.

( his mother was a struggling addict ( and had been her whole life ), but the loneliness, newfound pressures and whatever excuse she was able to name caused her drinking to spiral worse than byron remembered ( even at his young age ) before. )

( his father was rarely in his life, but when he was, he was THE coolest. always played good cop in any situation regarding his mother, despite choosing not to have an active role in byron’s life. byron looked up to him like no other. when he WAS around, he taught byron how to surf, skateboard, play sports, they’d play video games, they’d eat junk food - honestly anything that byron wanted to do. his dad was an adrenaline junkie and created the stepping stones for byron to be one too. he was a marine biologist & pretty successful at that. passionate,  intelligent, but seemingly finding his newfound life a lot better than his previous - which is why he never wanted byron to stay too long, the boy reminded him of her, of the past. )

( his older brother moved out of the house when byron was just a lil kid, they’re not very close and don’t have much in common ... or so it seems. he lives in nyc and they only talk here and there on holidays. he was never a huge part of his life, but it does bum him out to think what could’ve been / could be. )

TO GET THE GIST 

due to never receiving the attention he craved from his family members, he made up for it tenfold in school. he was always talking to everyone, loud, boisterous, gregarious, life of the party; he wanted people to like him and they did. he become a total people pleaser, molding himself to make sure everyone was content and stayed around. impressionable, adaptable. he felt less this way towards adults and had a bit of a rebellious phase, hanging with the wrong crowd & getting into things he probably wouldn’t do otherwise. old habits die hard and he still tries his best to make everyone crack a smile, to remember him - since he believes he won’t be remembered for much else.

after he just barely skated by in high school ( his grades were never as good as his cousin’s and never lived up to his father’s expectations ), byron felt a bit lost. a lot of people had plans, were heading off to college - but already under the assumption he couldn’t reach any expectation in that realm ( a lil self fulfilling prophecy am i right pals ), he stayed in town - caring for his mother who hardly had anything together, his uncle who got sick very quickly & passed, spending time with his grandmother, while he himself fell into a rut. most of his days meant he drove out towards his dad’s place ( dad hardly there now, out and about with his new family ), surfing, smoking, and grabbing some cash doing odd jobs any way he could. he lost any purpose he once had ( but yall would never know it bc who wants to be in someone’s life who’s a buzzkill ? all smiles, baby, all smiles. )

IN WESTMERE

when his cousin offered the opportunity to travel cross-country in his van, byron had nothing to lose. always adventurous in spirit, he immediately said yes - deciding to ignore that ‘obligation,’ that feeling to make sure they were a-ok that he felt towards his parents. he needed an out and this was it. 

after landing in the small connecticut town for the night, the two fell for it - especially since when they got there along the water, it was a summer night + everything landed into place. they decided to stay there a bit longer ... and that eventually turned into more than a year. still antsy to keep traveling and to move around, byron has been ready to head out ... but stays for a few reasons - and them all being people ( bc lbh the surf is not even on point here ok )

his current job is a deckhand ( on a bunch of boats, ppl prob hired him as word of mouth got around that he knew what he was doing ). prob got that knowledge from being by his dad’s on the water when younger ( he’s ... obsessed with the water ) ! and also he’s just a quick learner ok ( ps: if your charrie has a boat pls let’s make somethin happen )

TO KNOW [ headcanons + more ]

his fav karaoke song is sweet caroline bc he knows everyone will be able to sing nd party along. he does it for the ppl, ppl.

he never saw too many baby / kid pics of himself which was kind of a bummer bc he really only remembers negative times - somehow they overpowered ( i bet lil byron was cute as fuck too fml )

he’s super into drugs, hallucinogenics, honestly you name it. it started off w/ him being impressionable, then bored, and now he just enjoys it. despite his mother’s addiction running through his blood, he still continues to do his thang.  

longboards around town so watch your toes

uses 🤙🤙 all the time and not ironically 

has an existential crisis on the daily about purpose but keeps that to himself most times 

WANTED CONNECTIONS

someone pls give me a sugar mama idc how we plot it out they don’t have to hook up they can idk idc i just want someone giving him money or expensive things it can be so much fun ok ,, pool boy ? idk sign me up

pls if your muse has a boat, let him be the deckhand ok it will also be so fun and potentially angsty if he fucks something up

a fling 100% - even multiple ? idc listen he is currently sharing a tiny VAN with his COUSIN he needs a place - like an actual bed - to crash on at night

can he save someone who was potentially drowning pls??? he used to be a lifeguard, it can be a cool/fun thread to write out

omg off of that can he teach someone how to swim 

look if anyone is into marine bio, can they somehow know byron’s father ?? i feel like that could make room for a cool plot

also i have an older brother connect on the w/c’s page lmk lmk

give me a good influence that will somehow have him open up + tell him that it’s weird to be so sunshiny all the time. maybe someone who witnesses him at his worst + stays, ya know ??

a bad influence plot where y/c takes this impressionable young lad and puts him through the ringer tbh ( srrsly he’d do a lot for ppl, so ask him to do something illegal for them it’ll be fun )

party pals, smoking pals, on the water 24/7 pals, 

co-worker, other ppl that work on the water ( fishermen?? more deckhands?? captains??)

gimmie someone he accidentally bumped into while longboarding ( he’s a large human it might’ve done damage ok )

i want and need enemies ok i know he’s chill as fuck and wants everyone to like him but there’s always a way to find enemies >:o. anything angsty for REAL.

unrequited thing? where he led someone on?? i’m sure he does this constantly

don’t ruin the friendship thing omg plsssss always so fun

look i’m open for it ALL. every plot u have in mind so lay it on me

[ashisbaeee]

Sorry ahead of time for the request being too long but could you do a blurb where the reader (who is not famous) is dating tom secretly but the rumors of him and Zendaya are too much so they break up, and in one interview when the interviewer asks about Tomdaya Tom just blows up and basically exposed he was dating the reader. And could it end it in fluff because I could really use some happy endings right now.

A/N: sis, at the rate of how much of angst I’ve managed to put out, I don’t think this is normal at all, haha. definitely needed to have some balance y’know? Here ya go, I truly hope you like it :) thanks for your request! 

after all these angtsy fics, I needed some fluff in my life.  

1.5k of angst turned fluff.. my heart😩

___________________________

You’ve been dating Tom for about 10 months, no one knew except your families and really close friends(really like your 2 best friends and his best friends Haz and Tuwaine as well as Z and Jacob. You wanted to keep it as private as much as possible. Afraid of the possible backlash from the “fans” and media. 

With promotion of Far From Home, fans and people alike were really interested to see PeterMJ love story. And the promos didn’t help in the slightest. Everyone and their mothers wanted to see the ever so awkward but yet so beautifully portrayed high school relationship. Doing press tours were an added stress. All the interviewers were interested about PeterMJ and how filming went, with the occasional how’s working with Jake Gyllenhaal questions. Every interview had been cut out and edited so that it focused solely on Tom and Zendaya. Completely disregarding Jacob and Jake. Causing a rise in Tomdaya fans and countless pages on Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr about their supposed relationship.  Even leading to a rapper to create a song about their relationship.  An attempt to “shoot his shot” with the ever so beautiful Zendaya. If you were being completely honest, it kind of bothered you a bit, but there was literally nothing you could do about it. If you and you alone came out about the relationship, who was going to believe you? They would probably think you were just a huge fan of his who had some grandiose ideations of dating the Hollywood star. 

Tom knew that it had bothered you, hell, it bothered him to no end too. It was moments like those that made him really wish that you both were public. But out of respect for you, and most importantly for your safety, he opted to remain mum. He didn’t want you to receive any hate, knowing how people can be online. Saying mean things behind a phone or computer screen. Not that he’d pay any mind to those words anyway. But you, you weren’t accustomed to this. He did this to protect you. He knew you knew how he feels about you and vice versa and that was all that mattered.

It all became too much for you. Too unbearable to handle. You weren’t as happy as you once were. All of the clips and edits of every press interview they’ve ever had, the constant “updates” on Tomdaya and how almost every interview shoved the idea of bringing PeterMJ to real life. Wishing that Tomdaya would be an actual thing. It all became unbearable. There was only so much your heart could handle. His constant words of reassurance, Z saying that she would never do such a thing, calling Tom her annoying brother as well as reassurances from Jacob and Jake seemed to fall on deaf ears. Nothing they were saying was making you feel better. It got to the point of being a bit much, becoming insufferable, really. So you did what anyone in your situation would do, you decided to break things off with him. 

That was mentally, physically and emotionally agonizing. You both cried so hard, you both know  that this secret relationship was greatly affecting you both. It was like both of your worst fears were becoming reality-an absolute nightmare, really. 

It’s been about 2 weeks since that fateful day. And those 15 days have been an absolute hell. With the release of the movie underway, there were even more stans. Talking about every detail of their supposed relationship, going back as far as Homecoming. Everywhere you went, wherever you looked that was all you saw; PeterMJ, Tomdaya. If you hadn’t known any better, you started to believe it too. 

Although you’ve broken up, you still watched their interviews. This was one of their last interviews for the press tour. And if you were being brutally honest, you could tell this break up was greatly affecting him. You didn’t have to have Haz, Z, Jacob and Jake text you to know how the young lad was doing. Because truthfully, you were feeling the exact same way. 

You took in his gaunt appearance, he noticed his change in attitude; no longer being his fun, bubbly and free spirited self. They all kept you up to date with him and how he was doing as well as checking in on you. 

You sat quietly as the interview began. After the quick hello’s, how are you’s, and thank you for coming, they began the interview. 

After asking about how the cast felt about working with Jake and out of all the places they’ve filmed and seeing where their favorites spots were came the inevitable topic. As soon as she had started, you noticed that they all had rolled their eyes. If they had rolled them any harder, you could’ve sworn they’d stay like that.

“So Tom, Zendaya, as you both are aware, there are many people, myself included that want to know, is PeterMJ from Far From Home occuring in real life as well?  Your relationship has gained quite the following. You know, I have to say, that your fans are right, you’d both make a lovely couple! I can hear the wedding bells ringing.” she spoke, ending her question err, rather statement with a chuckle. 

He was furious. 

“What the fuck? Are you serious right now? I just don’t get it. We’ve answered this particular question numerous times, and I don’t know how you think that answer will change otherwise but this is the absolute last time I am going to say this. We are not, have not, will not ever be in a relationship so you should let that dream die. We are friends, best friends and it is beyond disrespectful for you all to keep making these statements. If we were indeed in a relationship, why the hell would we say otherwise that we aren’t? Wouldn’t you think we’d share that with you guys? We didn’t share anything because there is nothing! We are friends and nothing more. All of your assumptions and stupid theories of us being together has pushed me to lose the love of my life. I was in a happy relationship with the most amazing girl that ever graced this earth. But due to all of this, it caused her to break up with me. Her name was Y/N, and we dated for 10 months, by far the best 10 months of my life. We’ve kept it quiet because I know how ruthless you people can be. I chose to keep it quiet for her sake. But that was stupid on my part. I shouldn’t have been afraid to tell you guys all about her, we were going to receive hate regardless; everyone voicing their opinions. I knew it bothered her but I thought by keeping it quiet, I was keeping her safe. And that isn’t the case. Y/N, darling, wherever you are, I hope you hear this, I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. As you can see, I’m an absolute mess without you darling. I need you and I miss you dearly” he cried, not caring about how he looked at that moment. 

He took off his microphone and placed it on his seat as he walked passed the interviewer and out of the room. The three stunned at what occurred. 

He ran into his dressing room and pulled out his phone. Instinctively, his thumb landed on your number. Without second guessing, he touched the screen. He was now calling you. 

After a few rings, you answered. 

“Hello, Y/N, darling. It-it’s me, Tom. I-I just needed to hear your voice. I’m so sorry about everything. I-”

“Hi Tom. I just watched the interview, uh, thank you for that. You really didn’t have to say all those things y’know”

“But I did.  I said all that because it’s true. I had to set her in place. I’m so sick and tired of all these people assuming I’m dating my best friend and costar. Like that shit got annoying real quick. But you know, I had to be polite and whatever. But not anymore. Listen, I know this was not how we had planned things to go, but the world knows of who you are now. And I’m glad that that’s finally out. It means that I get to hang out with you and we can do whatever we want and not give a damn about what others think. I know you know that my feelings for you are real and true and I know you feel the same. I love you and I miss you immensely. So uh, so uh, can we please be boyfriend and girlfriend again?” he asked nervously. 

A laugh managed to escape your mouth, laughing at his awkwardness after being so bold. 

“Of course, we can. I wouldn’t want nothing less than that. I missed you too. Hurry back so I can hug you and love you even more, as if that is even possible.”

He let out a chuckle before replying “I’ll be on the next available flight home. So I’ll see you real soon. I love you darling, so very much”

“I love you too, Tom. Always” 

[futurewriter2000]

Fighting Battles - pt. 7 - final part

XX

It wasn’t easy being without Wren. You knew that since the moment the two of you met. After the whole parade of catching him using, resuscitating him and holding him in your arms with barely enough air in his lungs, he asked you to leave him alone. You were against it but at the same time you thought that some distance would do both of you good.

So you stayed in James’ dorm for a while. It wasn’t easy telling him the whole story but you did and as furious as he was, he promised he will let you solve your own problems for once. 

But after a week being without your other half, Dylan came to the Gryffindor tower with his eyes on the floor, stuck with guilt. He knocked on the door and you looked up from your cards. “Dylan?” you wondered. “What are you doing here?”

He looked up, barely. “Hey, (y/n).” he then looked at the other two boys with cards, glaring at him. “Lads.” he nodded at them but they didn’t budge. “Can we talk?” he asked and you looked up at your brother, getting the usual warning look and later at his best friend who didn’t have any different thoughts. 

“I’ll be right back.” you told them, put your cards down and got off bed. “And don’t look at my cards.” you walked out the dorm with Dylan. 

As the two of you were alone, walking down to the common room and sitting on the sofa, he fimbled his fingers just like he always did and began. “I wanted to apologise about last time.” he finally looked up and you could see every single part of him was screaming sorry at you. “I took- we both took this new drug called Flakka and it’s amazingly calm for a first few moments but as you came burning it all away, it came out as an agressive, angry behaviour from me- AND KNOW, I would never want to hurt you or do anything remotely related to what I did but somehow I just couldn’t control what came out and I am truly, sincerely sorry for that.” 

You listened with your ears lifted and focused on him, hearing every word that came from his mouth. You smiled warmly at him and pulled him into a hug. “You were pretty mean, I have to admit but I went through worse than that. Hell, I was in yours shoes once and for the first time I found out what James had to go through when I gave him outbursts like you and Wren gave me.” you paused, still holding him tight. “And I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, you gentle soul.” you pulled away and he laughed. 

“Gentle soul?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Dylan, everybody knows you are a teddy bear deep inside so don’t try to deny it.” you put your hand on his cheek and let it slide down to his shoulder. “Yet I didn’t know that teddy bear would be dumb enough to do drugs.”

“I just needed a boost. There just wasn’t enugh hours in the day and I remember Wren telling me that crystal meth helps you stay awake.”

“It does.” you conifermed.

“I know.” he simpered. “It was just the euphoric moment and the whole time I was on it that made me keep on going when I didn’t even need it anymore. Wren caught me using one time and I was too high to know where my head was and I somehow convinced him to do it with me. I was the one that you should blame, (y/n)-”

“I’m not blaming you, Dylan.” you sighed. “And I don’t blame Wren either. It’s tempting seeing other people on the euphoria when you are doing with all your strenght to resist it.” 

“Yeah, well after the whole Wren O.D-ing, I got my shit together and after a week of- the worst week in my entire life to be clear.” he pointed out. “I decided to get some help.” 

“You did?” 

“Don’t be so shocked.”

“I just never imagined you asking for help. Remember first year-”

“Yeah, yeah. Mock me all you want.” he laughed with you.

“No, no. I’m happy you decided to get help on such a serious matter. It means your brain isn’t fried yet.”

“I am a smart, wise man.” he boasted and you laughed. “Also did you know their password is Banana Fritters?” he smiled. “Honestly, Gryffindors are the odder than Hufflepuffs.” 

“Now, now. You’re talking about my brother.” you joked and he laughed. 

“Yeah, well talking about my brother.” he got more serious and you knew exactly who he talked about. “He really wants to see you.”

---

You approached the dorm and you could hear the loud music blasting from it. At some point you could see him already, even behind closed door. 

It was like summer, like every day with him; he was in his purple socks, underwear and black Rolling Stones T-shirt. He was facing you his back, jumping, sliding, strutting, leaping and whirling as his bed was filled with clothes. 

You leaned on the wall and just watched him, jumping around the room in his underwear. He had his eyes shut, singing loudly to the music and playing air-guitar. Until he spun in his purple socks and opened his eyes. 

He stopped, froze and kept his wide eyes on you. You smirked, still leaning on the wall. “Don’t let me stop you.” 

“I-uhm-” he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah-” he lowered the volume but you only rolled your eyes, walked up to him, put your hand over his and turned the volume back up. 

The strong rock of the guitar started blasting over the room and you started walking sassily down the room. “ Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on Livin' like a lover with a radar phone!” you started singing, unzipping your jacket meanwhile he smile and continued.

“Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp Demolition woman, can I be your man?!” he sung on the top of his lungs and you laughed. He took your hand and started spining you around, both playing on your air guitar and singing to the song until the chorus came on and the two of you sung your lungs out.

“ Pour some sugar on me Ooh, in the name of love Pour some sugar on me C'mon, fire me up Pour your sugar on me I can't get enough. “ 

And before you could do the next verse he put his hand over you mouth and sung the best part of the song by himself. 

“ I'm hot, sticky sweet From my head to my feet, yeah!” he posed and did his best Michael Jackson move, causing you to laugh. 

“That’s not fair!” you laughed and he shrugged. 

“Life isn’t fair, honey.” he  bragged and jumped around the room, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up to twirl you in the air, later throwing himself and you on the bed.

Both laughed and kept laying on your backs. After you calmed down, he sat up and started fumbling his fingers, just like Dylan did before. “(y/n)-” 

“Wren, you don’t-”

“Yeah, I kinda do.” he cut you off, looking at you with his fern eyes and simpering. “I can’t believe that I did what I did to you.” he later looked back at his fumbling fingers. “You.” he repeated. 

“I’m fine, Wren but you.” you sat up as well. “You almost died- hell you did for a moment.”

“I know- I just- I don’t know. It all happened so fast and you trusted me and I kept lying to you because I was terrified that if I start, you’ll start as well.” 

“Yeah... it was tempting when I opened that drawer but I looked at you and Dylan and I just knew that’s not what I want anymore. And Wren, you’ve been here for me when nobody else was-” you took a hold of his hand. “-that’s why I am never mad or furious whatever you do. Because I just can’t. Not at you at least.” you squezed and he grinned.

“Does that mean I can do whatever I want and you won’t be mad at this pretty face.” he joked and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Don’t push it.” you laughed. “And no.” 

“Yeah, well I think that I need to stop doing whatever I want.” he contiued and turned his whole body to you. “I wrote to my parents.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I never tried to get along with them at the first place. I think it’s time I try.” he smiled and you threw yourself in his arms.

“I’m so happy for you.” 

“Yeah.” he hugged you back tightly and smiled in your neck. “Mom wrote me back and told me she’d love to see me. Guess I’ll have to win over dad.” he chuckled. 

“I love your dad.” you pulled away and he furrowed his eyebrows. 

“What?”

“He brought me food once when he came to visit.” 

He laughed and shrugged. “Yeah, he’s not that bad like I made him out to be. I honestly can’t wait to taste his food again. He’s a real chef at heart.”

“So, food? That’s your whole reason.”

“No.” he denied but kept smiling. “It’s 90% of the reason. The other 10% is his amazing personality.”

“And us?” you blurted out and his eyes locked with yours again.

“Us?” 

“Yeah, us.”

“I mean there’s not really an us if you’re in love with another guy, is there?” he tried to keep the smile on his face but it kept fading. “I had my chance a long time ago and I knew it. I knew it all along I just didn’t feel the same until I saw you with him.” 

“You knew?” 

“The moment you started looking at me with the same eyes you now look at him. I was just too late, wasn’t I?” he nudged you. “Though, do you think he’s into guys?” 

“Um, excuse me?” you looked at him. “You wouldn’t fucking dare.” 

He shrugged. “Have you seen him? I would fucking dare. I would.” he kept a serious face and then burst out laughing. “I’m messing with you.” he nudged you again but you only squinted your eyes at him.

“He’d never choose you over all of this.” you flipped your hair over your shoulder and he let out a scoff. 

“No. No he never would.” he said calmly, putting his hand on your cheek and smiling kindly. He pulled you into a hug and breahted in your perfume. “I’m going write you a letter every day this summer.”

“And I’ll reply to each and one of them.” you promised.

---

It was the last day for the seventh years and before they could go to the boats and finally graduate, you wanted to see them. Knocking on the door, you opened and found your brother suffer with his tie meanwhile Remus kept teasing him from the foot of his bed.

“Underneath and over, James.” he kept smiling.

“I AM!” he snapped, putting his tie over and over again, always ending with a knot. “THIS is so USELESS!” he made a shoe tie on his neck and you laughed.

“Come here.” you walked to him and started untying his knot. “You’re being useless, Remus.” you looked over to the guy chuckling on his bed. 

“I couldn’t resist.” he continued meanwhile you finished with it. You put your and on his chest and iron the robe on his shoulder. 

Finally looking up, you smiled at your big brother and a big, broad smile appeared on his lips and he lifted his arms in the air.“I fuckng made it!!” you wrapped your arms around him and breathed in his sweet cologne.

“I am so proud of you, big brother.” you smiled as well and he wrapped his arms around you.

“Thank you, sis.” he smiled and pulled away, kissing your forehead. 

“Wait. How did you tie your tie all seven years?” Remus asked, furrowing his eyebrows and glancing between the two of you.

James grinned at him and both of you exchanged a similar look. He never tied his tie because it was already tied. He just put it over his head and went to class. That0s who James just was. 

“It’s a mystery.” you winked and walked to Remus. “You finally did it.” you smiled proudly at Remus and he pulled you in a hug.

“I did.” he beamed, letting out a joyus laugh. “I finally got rid of these blokes.” he joked and you laughed.

“You would think that.” James squinted his eyes at him. “But you won’t ever get rid of us. Ever.” he reassured and Remus sighed.

“It was good to dream for a moment.”

“Mates, I lost Peter!” Sirius barged in and started looking around. When his eyes landed on you, he grinned and leaned on the wall. “Look who made an appereance.” 

“What do you mean you lost Peter?” James looked confusedly.

“He was there and suddenly he wasn’t.” 

“So? He’ll find his way back here or to the boats.” Remus walked to throw his books in the trunks.

“I might have told him, the graduating ceremony is in the Forbiden Forest.” Sirius scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Of course you did.” Remus sighed meanwhile James smiled.

“And he bought it?” 

“This isn’t funny you guys.” Remus said but a smile was surfacing. “Just look at the map.” 

And as James and Remus were looking at the map, you were stuck with a view of your favorite Marauder. You walked slowly to him, swaying your feet over the red and gold rug meanwhile he smiled and watched you with those dangerous eyes.

“Came to tie James’ tie?” he smiled and you laughed.

“Yeah.” you nodded.

“Came to tie mine?” he grinned and bit his lower lip as you were close to his chest. 

You look down at his perfectly tied tie and smiled. “Unfortunately, it’s already tied.” 

He was close. You were close. The tension was growing, the temperature rising. “I think it’s too loose.” he put his hands on your hips and just as his touch burnt yours like coal, this time wasn’t any different. 

You put your hand on the tie but your fingers didn’t function. They felt numb and numbness didn’t come daily. It came when he was close and when you were close. It came when your heart pumped on adrenalin and your mind was focused on nothing other but him. It came when you were afraid to take your chance. So you took the tie, pulled it down and crashed your mouth on his. Your numb fingers relaxed and dug into his hair meanwhile his hands pressed you closer against his own body, lifting you on your toes. 

James watched with his mouth agape meanwhile Remus behind him was snickering. “Wish I got this congratulation.” 

“I’m gonna tackle him.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

“I’m tackling him, mate. That’s my sister.”

“And that’s your brother.” Remus pulled him back, James looked at him with softer eyes and smiling.

“I’m still tackling him.” 

“JAMES!” 

[moonshineholland]

💫 goodnight n go💫

A/N: I haven’t been feeling too good over the past few days, hence why I started writing this at 4:30 a.m. and hence why it’s probably trash :) but anyway this song is so pretty so I couldn’t not write about it hehe🥰

W A R N I N G S: FLUFF!!!! But also smut implied! & one swear word oop

——————————————————————————————————————————

Tell me why you gotta look at me that way,

You know what it does to me

So baby what you tryna say?

You'd been friends with Tom for as long as you could remember, since high school, after he’d just finished his stint as Billy Elliot and was struggling to fit in. The two of you bonded over plié’s at the ballet barre during dance classes, rendering the two of you inseparable. So it came as no surprise to you that he wanted to spend his only free evening at your apartment, snuggled under blankets, eating Chinese and binge watching that series that you wouldn’t shut about the minute he’d walking through your front door.

Something about this night seemed vastly different to all the other nights you’d spent together before. Tom had been away for such a long time and even though, personally, you felt as if nothing had changed between you two, in reality everything had. You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. The air between the two of you remained light, fun, but when he thought you weren’t looking he couldn’t help but stare, your features striking him in a way they never had before. The curve of your lips is what occupied his mind for the majority of the night, the way they would change so quickly depending on what was being played out on the screen in front of you both, he hated it when your favourite character got killed, your plump lips stretching into a thin line as you tried to control your anger at the “stupid writers” but then they’d relax, quivering slightly when the tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. He hoped he’d never have to see your lips quiver like that again, vowing that it may just break his heart.

He thought he’d gotten away with it. He thought you hadn’t noticed him observing you with soft eyes but if he could see the butterflies swarming your stomach he’d know just how much of an effect he was having on you.

Lately, all I want is you on top of me,

You know where your hands should be

So baby, won’t you come show me?

You’d only be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been thinking about him whilst he was gone. You thought about him in so many ways, how much you missed carding your fingers through his soft brown hair during movie nights, how he’d fight with his eyelids, forcing them to stay open so as to see out the rest of the film with you. You missed how he’d yawn and mumble a gentle “‘m so tired love” into your thigh. ‘Love’. The way he used that word never affected you until he was gone, desperate to hear the pet name on a loop, praying to hear it as you enter the gates of heaven.

At night when you dreamt about him, you’d dream that he was on top of you, lying with his chest pressed to yours, your fingers brushing through his chocolate coloured curls as he drifted off, or so you thought, until his lips pressed the most searing kisses into your neck and his fingers danced across your hips, trapping you in his loving embrace. You’d wake up in a cold sweat afterwards, pushing any and all thought about him, like that, to the back of your mind.

You craved him but you’d never admit that to him, even if you had caught him staring. Even if something did seem slightly different, there wasn’t enough evidence if there being “something there” to possibly risk your friendship being pulled out right from under you.

I got you, I got you dreamin’

You close your eyes and you’re screamin’

This time Tom lost the battle with his heavy eyelids, sitting on the other side of the couch you noticed his head slope to rest against his arm, tugging the blanket up further towards his face. Little did you know that in his light slumber he’d dream of you too, of an almost blurred silhouette hovering above him, able to make out a faint smile, gentle yet deviant. Your face would edge closer and your features would finally come into focus, he could count all of your freckles if he had the time but he couldn’t quiet manage it before he felt your lips pluck at his skin, as if he was a harp, music to both of your ears. He couldn’t help the moans that escaped his lips, your name gradually getting louder, a mantra he never wanted to stop repeating, he’d never had anyone make him feel this good, even if it was just in his dreams. His senses were swarmed with you, as if you were a new drug he’d never tried, sure, he’d sometimes looked at you on your nights out, the way your body moved in the neon lights but he put that down to purely just being “one of the lads” yearning for some kind of sexual relief and when the next morning rolled around, waking up to an empty bed he’d put all of those thoughts to bed, refusing to think about them. This however, was different, his body and mind yearned for you and it brought a smile to his face as he snored ever so quietly.

One of these days, you’ll miss your train

And come stay with me

(It’s always “say goodnight and go”)

Tom jolted awake about an hour later, a light sweat covering his forehead. “Bad dream?” You chuckled, noticing the look of pure shock on his face, grasping his surroundings before his eyes focused on the clock. 10:06 p.m. the numbers only instilled more panic in him, the seconds hand of the clock vibrated around his ears as if it was the ticking of a bomb.

“Shit! My train is in like 15 minutes.” He fumbled around for his shoes, shoving his strewn belongings into his backpack. You couldn’t help but wish he’d stay, it had been so long and while you were grateful he’d spent his only free time with you, you were greedy and wanted him to stay for as long as possible. “I’m sorry love, I’ve really gotta go,” you followed him to the front door, pulling him in for a hug before he could open the door, “goodnight,” he mumbled against your forehead, pressing his chapped but delicate lips against your skin. You waited to close the door until he had disappeared at the end of the road, and then you were left alone in the empty apartment, listening to your own breathing as it eventually slowed to a normal pace.

We’ll have drinks and talk about things

And any excuse to stay awake with you

The glass of rosé was almost finished when he knocked, he’d missed his train, his phone had died and of course you were the first port of call. “I’ll still have to get the first train back in the morning to make it to my meeting but hey, at least we get to spend more time together, right? We’ve not had a good ol’ sleepover in ages.” The sound of a smile in his tone was faint but it reminded you of when you were little, excited about the first ever time you’d got to stay over at his, in separate rooms of course.

His gaze burnt a hole into your back as you poured him a glass, spilling the pink liquid onto the counter slightly, vowing to wipe it up later, the extra time you’d been given with Tom was a blessing and you weren’t about to waste a minute of it. The two of you chatted for hours, he told you tales from set and you told him about the awful date you went on, not failing to notice the hint of sadness in his eyes, the thought of you going on dates shouldn’t have been such a shock to him but the pang of jealousy rippled through his heart.

And you’ll sleep here, and I’ll sleep there

But then the heating may be down again

(At my convenience)

When bedtime rolled around you noticed a huge shift. You’d shared a bed with Tom so many times but it’d been a while and he notably kept his distance from your side, almost as if if he slid up behind you he’d break you with how muscular his arms had gotten but you needed him, a soft huff filling the silent room as you realised the heating you’d turned on before trudging up the stairs wasn’t working, again. “Tom?”

“Yeah darling?” Even with your back turned to him you felt the bed dip as he turned over, still keeping his distance.

“Please can you cuddle me? The heating’s fucked”

He was hesitant but soon his arms snaked around your waist.

“I’m gonna call someone to fix that in the morning, can’t have my angel getting cold.” You smiled into your pillow, feeling his smile against your neck.

“Shut up.”

“You know you love it.” Both your bodies stiffened, how do you respond, it was a flirty joke but it carried so much weight behind it. You sucked in a sharp breath, shut your eyes and told yourself it’s just like a band aid, if you rip it off quick it’ll be better.

“I know I love you.”

[transgenderboobs]

bunch o’ tag games under the cut

tagged by @dykeangel​ !! ty emilie 

what was your last…

drink - jus woter 

phone call - my phone company

text message - dad

song you listened to - the fall by half alive

time you cried - last night watching jojo rabbit 

have you ever…

dated someone twice - kind of?

been cheated on - not to my knowledge 

lost someone special - yes? i mean not like they died but people have like. left my life u know

been depressed - lmao

gotten drunk and thrown up - Yes. :|

in this year, have you…

made a new friend - Yes ! 

fallen out of love - no

laughed until you cried - Yes. do this a lot in the horny for worms chat

met someone who changed you - u mean like in these 3 months of 2020? no

found out who your true friends are - idk??? i mean i like to think i KNOW already

kissed someone on your facebook list - lol no

general…

how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life - like.....most of them.

do you have any pets - yes!!!!!! i have two cats and two dogs

do you want to change your name - yes. i just have to find one that feels right and then go about making the Effort to actually change it

what did you do for your last birthday - i just like. went out for dinner and ice cream

what time did you wake up - like. noon

what were you doing at midnight last night - watching jojo rabbit!!!!!!!

what’s something you can’t wait for - this pandemic to end so i can finally go the fuck to germany

when was the last time you saw your mum - new years eve

what are you listening to right now - nuffink babe

have ever met a person named tom - don’t think so

what’s something that gets on your nerves - my school’s admin giving me Useless info about this pandemic sitch re: my thesis/graduation

what’s your blood type - absolutely no clue. i asked my parents and they don’t know either. it’s a mystery

nickname - prem is a nickname

relationship status - obviously i’m married to daisy tonner sorry ladies ;)

zodiac sign - aquarius

pronouns - they/them

fav tv show - the good place!!!!!!!!!

tattoos - many. got some pics of a few of them in my tattoo tag

right or left handed - right

first…

surgery - none. well i had to be put under anesthesia  once so they could do some weird shit to my teeth cuz i had this nasty infection but idk if that counts

piercing - ears babey

best friend - her name was kalea we stopped talking when i was like 6 or 7 and she recently added me on fb again

sport - LOLLLLLL ME PLAYING A SPORT???? LMAO I HAVE TO LAUGHHHHHHHH

vacation - hmmmm i think going to texas to see my dads family just before my parents got divorced 

pair of trainers - what the fuck are trainers

right now…

eating - nothing

drinking - nothing? water?

i’m about to - get up and make some coffee

listening to - nothing

waiting for - nothing

want kids - NO NEVER

get married - yes bitch !

career - i just want to lie on a hot rock under the sun for several hours of the day 

which is better…

hugs or kisses - both

lips or eyes - eyes

shorter or taller - either would be excellent 

older or younger - don’t care as long as they’re close enough to my age 

romantic or spontaneous - romantic

nice arms or nice stomach - no preference

sensitive or loud - either. both

hook up or relationship - relationship

trouble maker or hesitant - trouble maker

have you ever…

kissed a stranger - i wanna say no but i was a god damn lunatic in high school so it’s possible 

drank hard liquor - Yes a lot

sex on the first date - never been on a date. but i have had s*x with someone after only knowing them for like 5 hours day so

broke someone’s heart - I THINK I DID BUT I DIDNT NOTICE TILL LIKE TWO YEARS LATER

had your heart broken - yes.

been arrested - yes.

cried when someone died - never really known anyone who died besides relatives i’d met maybe once in my life at max, so. n/a

fallen for a friend - i only wanna smash my bros bro

do you believe in…

yourself - eeehhhhhh

miracles - eeeEEEHHHHH

love at first sight - no.

santa claus - no

kiss on the first date - sure !

angels - no

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tagged by @paintedvanilla​ !!! thank

instructions: tag 10 followers that you wanna get to know sorry

name: just prem

nicknames: prem is a nickname :3c

gender: oh no thank you i’m ok

star sign: aquarius

height: 5’9″ (OR exactly 69 inches or 175 cm)

sexuality: dyke

hogwarts house: ravenclaw

fave animal: i like owls and cats

average hours of sleep: god. who knows. not enough

current time: 12:30pm lads

dog or cat person: i mean i love them both but i think i’m a cat person

blankets you sleep with: just my comforter 

dream trip: @ MY SCHOOL JUST LET ME DO MY STUDY ABROAD TRIP TO GERMANY........

dream job: see above

when I made my blog: january 2014

followers: 3798

why i made a tumblr: god who remembers why i did anything in 2014. a bitch was still in high school in 20fucking14

reason for my url: no god damn genders allowed in this fucking house hold thank u Very much

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rules: hit shuffle and list the first 20 songs, then tag 10 people

tagged by @d-quintana​ and @the1975bi​ !!! ilu guys 

ghost - halsey

firefly - breaking benjamin

monster - paramore

i write sins not tragedies - p!atd

broken open - cold war kids

brick by boring brick - paarmore

wild heart - bleachers 

this is gospel - p!atd

don’t stop - innerpartysystem

cliff’s edge - hayley kiyoko

the love club - lorde

anyone else but you - moldy peaches

curse - imagine dragons

west coast - coconut records 

lemon to a knife fight - the wombats

would that i - hozier

killer - the ready set

headfirst slide into cooperstown on a bad bet - fob

snitches and talkers get stitches and walkers - fob

bad side of 25 - patrick stump