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djarins-cyare · 3 months

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So it’s been a year…

One year since Disney released episode 1 season 3 of The Mandalorian

One year since I published chapter 1 of Be-All And Endor

I don’t really remember much of the first 20 weeks of that year, just that it was a flurry of proofreading and finalising and uploading (the hard parts) and comment reading and new friend making and massively appreciating (the wonderful parts).

Proofing and publishing 2 chapters a week with average lengths of around 10k words was exhausting. But for the first 8 of those weeks I had Din Djarin on the screen (intermittently *ahem* but this isn’t a post about the quality of s3) and for the rest of the year I had my readers leaving comments and sending messages, and it was… overwhelmingly the best year of my life.

I mean that. The best year. Ever. Because of you. Any of you, all of you, if you’ve ever even just clicked on my fic and given it chance, you’ve raised the hits on it. Even seeing that metric tick up has made me so thankful.

Because I didn’t think I could write. I always wanted to be an author but never believed in myself.

I did an English degree with writing in mind, but told myself nobody ever does anything with an English degree. I took creative writing modules, and when the published author who ran the class gave me scathing feedback, my dream fully died. I got an okay grade, hardly anything to be proud of, and I graduated and went to work in another industry.

I suffered from clinical depression.

One day many years later, I found a favourite author online and messaged him to ask when his fourth novel in a series was being published, and (emboldened by the anonymity of being online) cheekily offered to proofread it for him. Except he took me seriously and sent me the prologue to see what I could do. Like, for a real book you can buy on Amazon. After feeling sick for two whole days I went all Autistic Obsession on it and sent him back the most thoroughly proofed bit of writing anyone had ever seen. And I got the job. (I say ‘job’, I’d volunteered for free in exchange for the privilege of reading it in advance, so I can only ever call it semi-professional since I didn’t earn from it).

This, amongst other things, lifted me from my depression. I came off the pills and felt happier, more creative. Once the proofing was completed, the author encouraged me to write my own stuff, but whilst I’d gained some confidence… my brain was empty. I had no clamouring stories to get down on the page, no gems ready to polish.

Then in summer 2021, a friend sat me down and showed me the first 3 episodes of the Mandalorian. And my brain chemistry was instantly altered. I binge-watched the first two seasons, by the end of which I was unequivocally in love with Din Djarin, and then I binge-watched them again.

Around that time, I moved to a different country. Well, Wales is still the UK, but it’s a different country to England, and I was now 170 miles away from my friends. I went because as a single woman on a middling salary, London is too expensive to live in and having rid myself of an overbearing long term relationship, I was NOT keen to get into another one just to pay the bills. The pandemic meant I could work remotely, so I upped sticks and moved to Cardiff, resolving to visit my office in London (and my friends) once a month. It’s 2 hours by train, totally doable.

So what to do with all the spare time I suddenly had?

By Easter 2022 I’d started writing. 9 months later (yes, it’s my actual baby), Be-All And Endor was complete and I began publishing alongside season 3’s release.

Now… it has over 62.k views and 1.2k kudos 🥹🤯

Did I think it would be this popular? No way. I can’t even believe it now. I still see SO much wrong with it, which is why I’m still proofreading and editing it.

A professional proofread/edit takes a long time, and if you’re wondering what I’m doing to it, it involves the following:

Checking for things like clichés, non-inclusive language

Checking all adverbs to see if a better word can be used (e.g. ‘bellows’ instead of ‘shouts loudly’… adverbs usually end in -ly and it’s not good to overuse them)

Rephrasing any passive sentences (simply put: ‘the ship is flown by Din’ is passive; ‘Din flies the ship’ is active)

Reducing average sentence length (shorter sentences are easier to read)

Going through every single damn polysyllabic word (e.g. anything that has more than 3-syllables) and seeing if a shorter synonym can be found (this helps the rhythm, as too many long words slows things down and can make readers stumble… and I use them a lot 😖)

Checking the 50 most frequently used words and seeing if I can find synonyms for those (helps give more variety in the language)

Ensuring Din’s name isn’t overused or underused, and adding epithets (e.g. ‘the hunter’ or ‘your Mandalorian’) where it’s overused but it’s too confusing to just say ‘he’/‘him’

These are the big things, but there’s more too - I’m streamlining decisions I made to use certain phrasings throughout; tweaking Din’s word choice here and there to ensure his voice is captured the best way possible; revamping some of the photos. And with all the tiny tweaks, it’s slowly padding things out too… when publishing was done it was 393k, now it’s 403k, although it’s not extra content as such, just better described.

I’m up to chapter 13 so far, and I’ll probably be doing this for another 2 years to get through all 40, because (a) I want to write other things too so that slows down the proofing, and (b) I so badly want to be proud of this project… everyone’s telling me I should be, and I am in a way… but it’s more gratitude to others than pride in myself… and I feel like if I get this proofing done and finally have a story I’m truly happy with, I can at last let myself be proud of what I achieved here.

I confess, I’m so envious of those who can post something without obsessing over it. I know it’s a facet of my autism, and I’ve long since accepted that my neurodivergent brain will not let me be cool about things other people are cool about. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that I should turn it to my advantage, so okay… I’m gonna make this fic the same quality as a published book on your bookshelf. And meanwhile I’m gonna enjoy and love all the fics that people can write and publish with far greater speed than I can, because the greatest thing about this fandom is that every contribution is worthy of appreciation, no matter the author’s experience or writing method. Quality fic isn’t synonymous with proofreading, and I hope it’s clear that I’m describing my obsession with perfecting my own writing, not other people’s. I’ve read so many amazing authors on here, and I want them all to know how much I love their work (any recs are from the bottom of my heart).

So anyway, this long and rambling post has turned into something unintended… I guess you now have some insight into my mind and the origins of Be-All And Endor and the future of it. Not what I meant to do, but I’ll leave it in for context.

Because the real reason I started writing this diatribe was because I wanted to express my true and undying gratitude to everyone who has ever read, commented, or left kudos on my fic over on AO3, and/or messaged me, followed me, interacted with me, or reblogged my masterlist here on tumblr 🧡💚

I know I am insanely lucky to have received the level of support I have, and I don’t take that for granted at all. I want to give back to this fandom, and I love reading and reccing other people’s fics, meeting new moots, and hopefully soon I’ll be publishing new fics for you all to read too. Fresh material is percolating, so it won’t be too long now.

So thank you to everyone who reads this post, you’re the absolute best and I love you more than I have the vocabulary to describe. Please accept a grateful forehead kiss instead 💋

#well this was longer than intended #but we all know brevity isn’t my strong suit #cannot express how much i love you all #so i rambled and i hope my gratitude comes across in there somewhere #thank you for supporting me #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #mando #mandalorian x reader #mando x reader

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pandorasprongs · 11 months

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INTERLUDE | are we still friends?

'it's nice to have a friend' fic masterlist + playlist | previous chapter

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

SUMMARY: after months of ghosting, reader finally gets to talk to jamie again at the end of her second year.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: so we're going back in time to when reader's in uni and early in jamie's man city career :) hope u all enjoy! (also i know frats aren't a thing in the uk but i didn't find that out till after i published the prologue rip) i'd also suggest listening to 'are we still friends?' by tyler the creator for this chapter too just for the vibes — also!! thank you so much for 200 followers it's insane so many of you enjoy my fics :))

Age 19

"And that's it for this semester! Congrats everyone!" Your professor greets the room as the last person finishes their presentation. The room cheers, — albeit weakly given that most of the students there were coming down from their finals week caffeine addiction, — and everyone soon starts filing out.

You pass by your professor on the way out with Liv and hand her the trinket that the two of you planned on giving out to all of the professors you've had this semester. Some out of gratitude, some to make them feel guilty for the low marks they've given. This certain professor, a lady in her mid-40s who has been in the STEM area of research for years, had designated the two of you her favorites.

"Thank you so much, ladies. It was such a pleasure having the two of you in my class." You both give her a warm smile before heading into the hall.

When you make it outside of the building, Liv lets out a cathartic scream of relief. "It's finally done!" You laugh at your friend's reaction. You were glad too, but not enough to yell in public.

As you headed back to your student hall, you pulled out your phone. It had become routine to message Jamie every time you were heading back to Manchester, which you were the next week when your parents picked you up.

Hey Jamie! How've you been? How's Man City? Saw the match with Cardiff, you did great.

You press send before adding on, If you're still here, maybe you want to meet up before you go back? I'm heading back to Manchester next week too if you want to meet up then instead.

You send that too and type out I miss you, but after glancing at the rest of your unread messages, you delete it and sigh in defeat.

You don't even know why you're still trying. You haven't spoken to Jamie in months. No, it's almost been a year. The last time you did was when you went home for the summer holiday after your first year of uni, but even then, Jamie seemed distant and cold. He left the lunch early too after he got a call from his manager, much to your dismay. Even before that, his messages to you were getting less and less frequent till he finally stopped replying a few months into your second year.

Maybe it stung more knowing it was around the time you left that you realized how really felt about him. It wasn't just platonic love anymore; you might've actually been in love with your best friend then. But those feelings have since disappeared, at the same rate that Jamie disappeared from your life.

So now you were in a pub, supposedly celebrating the end of your second year in uni, but you couldn't stop staring at your phone, waiting for a reply. You've been re-reading your message to him and staring at that delivered in the corner until you finally broke out of the trance thanks to one of your friends calling out to you.

"Oi! You're not even tipsy. Are you playing or not?" Tina asks and you shut your phone before shifting your focus to the conversation. Right, you're playing Never Have I Ever.

"Shit, sorry," you apologize before lifting your hand. "I am now. What's the last one?"

"It was never have I ever slept with a footballer," Liv explains quickly, but the entire group had this knowing look on their faces that told you everything they thought of you.

Maybe it was fueled by the anger directed at said footballer or the fact that you knew they all thought you were a prude for not having hooked up with anyone the whole time in uni, — as far as they knew, — but you give them a knowing look that caused everyone's expressions to shift.

"No fucking way, you have?" Sam asks and you take a shot as confirmation.

"Technically yes," you explain but decide to hide which player it was. Because if they knew it was one of the up-and-comings of the Premier League, you'd never hear the end of it. Plus, one of them was bound to snitch to a newspaper for sure. "Back when I was 17 and before I left for uni, I slept with someone who ended up getting scouted." You neglect to mention that someone was your best friend, who agreed to be your first time because you were sure you'd make a bad decision the moment you stepped foot in a uni.

If they knew where you were from, they would've figured it out instantly. But you didn't have a Mancunian accent and none of them had ever bothered to ask where you were from over these two years — except Liv, who was no longer paying attention to the whole game and just scrolling on her phone, — so you were basically in the clear.

They moved on from your grand revelation quickly and continued with the game. At the end of it, you were probably the most sober out of all of them, so you ordered a Cosmopolitan. Maybe alcohol led to bad decisions, but at least it kept you off your phone.

You continued to talk with your friends till Tina gasped. You all turn to her to ask what happened when she exclaims, pretty loudly, "Looks like all of us have a chance at checking 'hooking up with a footballer' off our lists tonight." She giggles before leaning back into her seat.

You join the rest of them to look at what Tina had just seen and realize that not one, but two teams' worth of players had just walked into the pub. From Cardiff City and... Man City.

You already feel your heartbeat quickening and your eyes instantly start looking for Jamie in the crowd. The thoughts of 'he has to be here,' and 'he can't be here,' battle it out in your head, but when your eyes finally land on your former best friend, you don't know if the butterflies in your stomach are a good thing or not.

"Well, fuck it." You hear one of the girls you're with say as she downs another shot and gets up from the table. Some of the others join her in the group, but you're still frozen from nerves. Best way to heat up? More cocktails.

You watch with the other girls from a distance as the braver ones take their chances with the footballers on the other side of the bar. But for most of it, you can't take your eyes off Jamie.

He looks really different, like bad different. He's loud and boisterous, but not in the way he was before. You watch how he talks to his teammates and you can almost see how his overconfidence masks the level of insecurity he has with much older players. Or maybe you're overthinking it. You haven't seen him in a while.

When your friends get back to the table along with some new drinks and stories, you try and listen intently. But you really couldn't stop looking behind them.

You don't think Jamie's felt your eyes on him, so you weren't worried he'd turn and see you staring. But if he did, you wondered how he'd react. Would he go wide-eyed and stare back or just look away as if he didn't just spot his best friend of a decade at a pub? You were about to find out.

After downing one of the drinks in front of you, — you weren't even sure if you were the one who ordered that one, to be honest — you excuse yourself from the table. When they saw where you were walking over to, they decided to start cheering. It did help your nerves, even though you were approaching them for different reasons.

"Jamie!" You get his attention and the moment his eyes land on yours, shock fills his face. You almost scoff at that. He goes to the place where you're studying and assumes that he wouldn't run into you?

You didn't even plan out what you were going to say, so instead you sarcastically greet, "Nice to see you here. In Cardiff. Where I go to uni."

Jamie doesn't say anything and just continues to stare at you. His cocky facade almost slips too, till one of the other Man City players rests his arms on Jamie's shoulders and he suddenly tenses. You've seen him before, probably in one of those tabloid articles, judging from his overall demeanor. He seemed like the type to get into those scandals.

"Ah fuck, I thought we got rid of you lot already. Don't you have enough drinks from your friends over there?" George, you finally remembered his name, states and you're taken aback. He must've seen you coming from that direction.

"No, I'm not here for that." You answer bluntly before turning back to Jamie, starting to get annoyed. "Are you seriously not going to say anything?"

The Jamie you knew would be the first to defend you, even if it was just over someone knocking into you in the halls or stealing your pens. But it wasn't that you were after, honestly. You just wanted him to say something, anything at all.

"You know her, Tartt?" George scoffs and looks at Jamie. When Jamie continues to stay silent and just looks down at his feet, he chuckles and nudges the younger footballer. "A past hook-up, huh? Judging by your reaction. No need to be embarrassed, Jamie," he glances back at you and tries to whisper, "She's quite fit. Well, by your standards."

You roll your eyes, the anger starting to bubble. Now, Jamie had to say something right? But seeing no reaction, you correct him yourself. "Look, I'm not one of his bitter exes. I'm his..." You actually don't how to end that sentence.

George takes advantage of your pause and by now, some of the footballers around them had turned their attention to the scene. "Look woman, I don't care who you are to him, but take. the. fucking. hint."

You still don't remove your eyes from him. "Jamie," you whisper, almost pleading at that point.

Jamie looks up and seeing the multiple eyes on him at the moment, he finally speaks up, "You want an autograph or something? We're trying to enjoy our night, so I'll sign a napkin for you and you can be on your way."

The coldness in his response causes you to stumble and you take a step back. What did he just say to you? You try and search his face for any sign of remorse or guilt. Something that says, 'Please don't hate me, I didn’t mean it.' Nothing.

The sounds of the other footballers laughing don’t help either; it only contributes to the rising feeling of heat and embarrassment in you. You can feel the tears starting to form. There's no reason for you to break down in front of all of them, so you answer quickly, "Right. No need. Sorry for disturbing your night."

You turn around quickly, but not without hearing George ask Jamie who you were. For a second, you almost thought he'd give him the truth.

"Dunno, probably some fan I met before." That breaks the dam and the first few tears drop to your cheeks. A crying girl isn't an irregular sight at a bar, but you really didn't feel like staying in the same place as Jamie anymore.

You approach the table to grab your things when you notice that most of your friends had already scattered across the pub. The only one left there was Liv, — who was the designated driver for tonight despite your university being a 5-minute walk away — who notices your tear-stained face and is quick to rush over to you. "What's wrong? What happened?"

You shake your head. "Don't worry. I just want to head back." Liv hadn't even known you for two years, but she knew that you weren't one to talk about your feelings. Instead, she nodded and offered to help you out of the pub, but you shook your head once again. You had a relatively high limit and partner it with what just happened with Jamie, you were practically sober. You grabbed your clutch and coat before rushing out of the place, furiously wiping the teams from your face.

Fuck Jamie Tartt. Fuck those Man City losers. Fuck everyone involved in turning your best friend into whoever that was. The boy you once knew was gone. Fully and completely gone. You had to accept that.

But even then, you thought you'd hear the door open behind you. You thought it would be Jamie. You thought he'd chase after you. You thought he'd pull you into a hug. You thought he'd apologize for what he did and for everything. You thought he'd cradle your face as he did so. You thought he'd plant a tender kiss on your lips as an apology too. You thought he'd re-enter your life as if nothing had changed.

But he did none of that.

And you went home alone.

—

"(Y/N)? It's Liv, again!" You hear from the other side of your door, but make no attempt to move from your position in your bed. It was just too comfortable, perfect for wallowing in when you've officially ended the longest friendship you've ever had. Liv continues, "I'm heading home soon, but I asked Donna if she could keep bringing food for you to your door till you head home."

You were touched by the gesture but knew you weren't going to touch any of those bags till late at night when the hall was completely deserted. Till then, you'd be sleeping. Your parents had delayed picking you up till the last day and you've never been more glad about that.

"See you next semester! Love you!" were Liv's parting words and once you heard her footsteps recede, you fell back to sleep.

In all honestly, you've lost track of time at that point. Yeah, it was pathetic sitting in your room as if you were mourning the death of a loved one, but it's not like anyone cared. Well, Liv did, which is why she started bringing you food when she realized you weren't leaving your room, but she was heading home to London. Your parents had no idea what happened and you intended to keep it that way. The rest of your friends were off with their own lives, not even giving you a second thought. Jamie sure as hell didn't care what happened to you. He made that clear.

So for the rest of your time left in the hall, you just stayed in your room. Like a hermit. Jamie would've found it funny, you thought once, till it caused you to burst into tears once again. The more you tried to forget Jamie, the more you thought of him, which was the worst loop you could be in.

He's even in your dreams. One of them felt so real because you were in your exact position in reality when your phone rang. You saw his name as the caller, but 'dream you' just pressed decline. Even deleted the missed call notification. Good for her.

Then, you wake up to a missed call and a text from your mom. On route to Cardiff! Can't wait to see you, sweetie.

Ah, fuck. Had that much time really passed? You jumped out of your bed and start fixing up. Technically, you had 3 and a half hours to do so, but counting showering, cleaning up your suitcases from your dusty closet, and shoving almost a years worth of items into said suitcases, then you were in a bind and never prayed for traffic more in your life.

And from the sheer fear of your parents giving you a sermon in front of the entire building, you almost forgot about your former state of wallowing in self-pity. Then you were faced with taking down the decorations on your wall.

There was a mix of everything from school banners, even flyers, and pictures you'd taken with your friends and parents. You started with those first until the only ones left were the ones related to Jamie. You had pictures with him from multiple stages of your life. There was one from the first football match of his you ever attended and one from your graduation, too.

You had kept the note he made you when you were 16 and you joined your first individual debate tournament. ‘Fucking smash it!’ was scrawled in his handwriting on a post-it note, which you've hung on your wall since your first year of uni.

Even the rings he used to buy you for your birthday till his mom told him to find something new. You slowly pulled them from your desk drawer and realized there were only four. One missing. They were old anyway. You end up shrugging it off and placing them into your suitcase.

When you started inserting the rest of the items into an envelope, you continue to look at that picture with Jamie from when you were seven. Suddenly overcome by an emotion — rage, pity, nostalgia, you're not really sure, — you crumple it with your two hands and hold it like that for a few seconds.

You finally let go and see the two distorted faces, you're suddenly overcome by feelings of guilt. 7-year-old Jamie didn't do anything wrong; what was the point of taking your frustrations on a picture of him? Maybe you can throw darts at a printed photo of the current Jamie when you get home instead.

You flatten the picture as best you can before putting it back into the pile in the envelope. You finish packing your desk and place all the items into one of your suitcases. You look around the room, satisfied. Sure, your sheets weren't made yet, but you were going to leave the place anyway and you needed to shower. It was 40 minutes till your parents would knock on your door, — as seen in the picture they sent of the GPS — so it was more than enough for you to get ready.

Time passed by quickly and soon, your dad was helping bring your bags down to the car while your mom talked about how much weight you've lost while you were away, like they always did.

"Oh! Jamie, he had a game against Cardiff last week, right?" Your dad remembers as he starts the car. You almost freeze at the name, but turn to look out the window to avoid your parents catching whatever expression you had on your face. You were too tired to mask it properly.

"Yes, he was amazing!" Your mom exclaimed before asking. "Georgie said she told him to meet up with you here. Did he?"

"No," you answered quickly. You never lied to your parents, which is probably why they accepted your response so easily. You don't look back at them and continue to look at the passing trees. "Must've been busy."

A/N: yeah... and there you go! here's what happened that night in the pub and hopefully it makes me much more clear why reader still holds something against jamie! we're going back to the present day timeline for the next one so stay tuned!

TAGLIST: @moonflowersandsparkles @faith-alons26 @rexorangecouny @aiyaiy @thegirlthatwantedtowrite @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @higherthanheroes @guccilongboard @alipap3 @rockchickrebel @ellietartt @shineforever19 @skewedcherries @jamietarttdodo @meg-ro @deepdarkvelvet @taytaylala12 @scaramou @rae4725 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo (couldn't tag you for some reason?)

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fic #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt angst #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #it's nice to have a friend series

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doctorwhogirlie · 1 month

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Every Bad Wolf Reference

The End of the World: The Moxx of Balhoon tells the Face of Boe that being trapped on the exploding Platform One is the classic Bad Wolf scenario

The Unquiet Dead: Gwyneth the parlour maid looks into Rose’s mind and sees The Big Bad Wolf

The Aliens of London: A child graffiti’s Bad Wolf onto the side of the TARDIS

Dalek: Eccentric billionaire Henry van Statten has the security call sign ‘Bad Wolf One’

The Long Game: In the year 200,000 there’s a TV channel called Bad Wolf TV

Fathers Day: ‘Bad Wolf’ is scrawled across a 1980s club poster

The Doctor Dances: The missile about to land on the Chula spaceship has ‘Schlechter Wolf’ written on it

Boom Town: The nuclear power station about to destroy Cardiff is called ‘Blaidd Drwg’.

Bad Wolf: The Doctor, Rose and Jack return to Satellite 5, this time known as the Game Station run by the Bad Wolf Corporation

The Parting of the Ways: The message is written around Rose’s council estate

The Parting of the Ways: Rose takes the words from the Bad Wolf logo and scatters them through time and space

Tooth and Claw: The werewolf mentions that Rose has seen the wolf too, and that there is something of the wolf about her

Love & Monsters: Evidence of Rose has been corrupted by a Bad Wolf virus

Doomsday: Rose says goodbye to the Doctor at Bad Wolf Bay

Gridlock: Japanese word Akuro, translates as bad wolf - Poster in one of the cars

Silence in the Library: A painting of a Wolf and Rose

Turn Left: Bad Wolf messages are left everywhere, a warning to the Doctor

The Day of the Doctor: The Moment refers to itself as Rose Tyler, the Bad Wolf

Source

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merrybloomwrites · 11 months

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You Can Start a Family (Chapter 7)

Summary:

Reader joins Mitch and Sarah for Love on Tour! First stop, Slane.

Previous Chapters: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six

TW for this chapter: Smut

AN: My original plan for this chapter was to cover the entire time reader joins them for Love on Tour (aka Slane, Wembley, Cardiff, Belguim) but I once again got carried away. It's the longest chapter yet but only covers Ireland haha

Hope you enjoy!

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Mitch and Sarah love touring, but it doesn’t mean they don’t miss you. They have what they consider the best job in the world, but they’re still counting down the days until they see you again.

They love getting to do video calls, taking you on walks through the countries they’re in. They get excited each time you send an audio message because you want to tell them more information than you have the patience to text.

On more than one occasion, they’ve called or FaceTimed after a show, both too wound up to sleep right away. In the past they would just burn off that extra energy together in bed, but now they want you to be involved as well. Because of the time difference you’re normally just finishing dinner when this happens, and you’ve learned to keep your phone well charged even at the end of the day for situations like this. You love watching them together, listening to them tell you what to do with your hands, what they would do to you if you were all together. You wish you could be with them, pleasing them, but you admit this is better than nothing.

On a more innocent note, Mitch and Sarah absolutely love the adorable videos of you and Ryan that Tammy sends. There are videos of you both running around the yard, swimming in the pool, and tending to the garden. Their favorite is sent to them one evening shortly before a show. It’s of you and Ryan listening to Satellite and dancing. You’re both spinning around and then you begin to do the Satellite Stomps as dramatically as possible, sending Ryan into a fit of belly laughs so contagious that you fall over laughing as well.

Sarah’s the first to see the video and walks over to share it with Mitch. She hands him the phone and they watch together multiple times, huge smiles on both of their faces.

“That’s your new friend Y/N, right?” Harry asks. They both quickly turn, surprised to see they aren’t alone in their corner of the band dressing room.

“Yea, that’s her,” Sarah answers, handing over the phone to Harry who presses play on the video. He also breaks into a huge grin. He always loves to see people of all ages enjoying his music, and it’s easy to tell that you and Ryan are having an absolute blast listening to it.

“She’s cute,” he says. Mitch and Sarah both softly agree, eyes back on the video of you. Harry watches them, curious about their reactions. There’s a certain look on their faces, one that takes him a minute to place but when he does, he’s more confused. It was a look of love and adoration that Mitch and Sarah always reserved for one another.

Before he can ask about that he’s pulled away to finish getting ready for the show.

***********

After nearly 5 weeks apart, it’s finally time for you to take your first international flight to join them on tour.

You’re finishing up at work, ready to stop home, grab your bags, and head to the airport. As you leave, you thank Ryan’s mom again for agreeing to take care of your cats while you’re gone.

Meanwhile Mitch and Sarah are equal parts excited and nervous for the following day. They cannot wait to reunite with you, but it’s also Mitch’s first solo show and that comes with a lot of nerves. Sure, they’ve been touring forever, but this is different. It’s Mitch’s own music, his vibe very different from Harry’s, and he’s not sure what the fans will think. Not to mention it’s one of the largest crowds they’ve ever played for.

Once you get to your gate at the airport you call them, knowing that it’s around the time they’ll be getting into bed. One thing you’re excited about is being in the same time zone, tired of doing mental math every time you want to talk to them.

“Hi love!” Sarah says as she picks up. “Are you at the airport?”

“Yup! Just got to my gate. Wanted to check in before it got too late over there.”

“Well, you caught us at the perfect time then,” she replies. “I was just reading a little in bed, waiting for Mitch to join me.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Oh, he’s a bit nervous about tomorrow, I think he’s excited though. Harry’s been teaching him a lot of tricks to help with the nerves, so I think that has him feeling more confident.”

“That’s good! Do you think I’ll see you guys before he goes on?”

“You should. Mitch and I have to head over to the venue pretty early but everyone else isn't leaving until later in the day. You’ll be given all the details when you get to the hotel tomorrow, but I think the plan is for you to ride over with Elin and Ariza.”

“Oh, cool! I’m so excited! This is going to be amazing, and I cannot wait to see you both.”

“We can’t wait either. Oh, here’s Mitch, I’ll let you two talk a bit.”

There’s a pause on the other line before you hear Mitch’s soft voice. “Hey, babe,” he says.

“Hi, how are you feeling?”

“Good. I mean, nervous, but in a good way I think. It’s like, adrenaline maybe? Honestly, I’m just trying to focus on the fact that we’ll get to see you in a few hours.”

You melt a little at his words, and you can’t help but smile knowing that you’re going to see them so soon. It’s been hard going so long without them, and comments like this let you know you’re not the only one who’s been struggling with the separation.

You talk to Mitch and Sarah for a little longer, sharing stories to relax them so they can fall asleep and be ready for the following day. Once you hear that they’ve switched to their sleepy voices you wish them goodnight and hang up.

You’re too excited to read your book so you take a walk through the terminal while waiting to board. You’re unfortunately no less riled up on the plane, trying to sleep but managing only an hour or two.

Next thing you know, you’re landing in Ireland, finally in a country other than the United States for the first time in your life. You’re tired, and a tad anxious about all the unknown around you, but still thrumming with energy knowing that you’ll see Mitch and Sarah in just a couple hours.

You find the car that will take you to the hotel and the 30-minute drive passes quickly as you watch the scenery out the window. You arrive at the hotel, check in, and a minute later a young woman walks up to you asking, “Are you Y/N?”

“Yes, I am,” you reply.

“Perfect, you’re right on time! I’m Becca, one of the assistants for the tour.” You shake her hand, and she continues, “I have you leaving in 1 hour with Elin, Ariza, and Pauli to head over to the venue. Will you be ready then? If not, I could place you in a van leaving a bit later.”

“I will absolutely be ready in 1 hour,” you say with a smile. Sure, you’re tired and grimy from flying, but you don’t want to delay your reunion another minute.

“Wonderful, we’ll be meeting in the lounge on the 3rd floor.”

“Thank you so much!”

You head up to your room to shower and get ready. You’re glad your outfit hadn’t wrinkled in your bag, so that’s one less thing to worry about. You get dressed, put on your makeup, and style your hair. There are only a few minutes before you need to meet up with everyone, so you grab your bag and head over.

The past day has already been such a whirlwind, and it isn’t until you’re outside the door to the lounge that you remember how many new people you’ll be meeting that day. Not just new people, but musicians you’ve been admiring for months, some for years.

The nerves hit you as soon as you walk into the room and see Elin, Ariza, and Pauli sitting on the couches. They immediately look at you as you walk in, and you feel like the outsider walking into a Saloon in an Old Western movie.

The feeling only lasts for a second before all three of them break out into smiles and get up to introduce themselves. They’re all absolutely lovely and the drive over to Slane Castle is filled with wonderful conversation. You let Pauli know how much you love their new song Saucy, that you’d listened to it at least a dozen times since it was released the previous day.

In no time at all the van is pulling into the venue. You’re amazed at the size of it, at the beauty of the castle. For a moment you think of your grandfather, whose family had come from Ireland, and suddenly feel a moment of connection to him. You know he would’ve absolutely loved to see this place, even been excited just to know you were able to go there.

You’re broken from your reverie by the others getting out of the van, and you follow them to backstage area that’s been set up. Thoughts of your family are chased out by one single thought: Mitch and Sarah are here.

You try to be patient. After all you don’t actually know where they are or where to go, but it’s taking everything in you not to start running through the halls to find them. You continue to follow the other band members, assuming they’re heading to the band dressing room, and you’ll find Mitch and Sarah there, but you get stopped by another member of the crew.

There’s a moment where you’re scared that he’s going to question who you are and if you’re allowed there, but he just says, “You’re Mitch and Sarah’s friend? They have a Y/N on their list set to arrive at this time. Is that you?”

“Yes, I’m Y/N,” you say, amazed by the level of professionalism and coordination that goes into the tour.

“I’ll show you to their dressing room.”

You smile and nod, following him further down the hallway.

“They’re finishing soundcheck, but you can wait in there for them.”

“Great, thank you so much!” As soon as you finish your sentence he’s gone, onto his next task of this incredibly busy day.

It’s chillier than you expected it to be, and you look over to see Mitch’s bag in the corner. There are a couple sweatshirts inside, and you grab one to put on, hoping he won’t mind.

You sit on the couch that’s in the room, resting your eyes while waiting for them. It’s only a bit longer before you hear the door opening. You don’t even have time to get up before you have a lap full of Sarah. Her limbs wrap around you and your arms go around her waist, holding her as close as possible. She tucks her face into your neck, and you feel Mitch sit on the couch next to you both. He leans in, pressing kisses to the side of your head.

You look up at him with a smile before he checks the door is closed and firmly slots his lips against yours. It’s passionate, but quick. As soon as you break apart, Sarah pulls you in for a similar kiss of her own.

You blink at both of them, partially dazed by the intensity of the greeting you received, partially unable to believe that you’re really here with them. It’s been 5 weeks since you’ve seen them, and tears well up in your eyes at the overwhelming relief of being held by them.

“You’re here,” Sarah whispers as though she can’t believe it.

“I’m here,” you reply just as quietly. She moves off of your lap and Mitch pulls you onto his. You’re sitting sideways so your legs lay over Sarah’s, and Mitch’s arms hold you tight. You hold Sarah’s hand in yours, and just sit quietly.

No one knows how long you all sit in silence, simply enjoying being together again, but you’re interrupted by Mitch’s phone ringing. He’s only on the call a moment before hanging up with a polite “thank you”.

“There’s food set out for lunch,” he informs you both.

You and Sarah nod to acknowledge this but make no move to get up until your stomach starts to growl.

“Let’s get you something to eat,” Mitch says, and you finally force yourself off of his lap. They walk over to the door, and you take a deep breath before following.

“Are you alright, love?” Sarah asks.

“Yea, just nervous about meeting everyone else.”

“Well, you’ve got us, and you’ve already met half the band. How were they this morning?”

“Very welcoming. Pauli ended up in our van too, so we talked a lot about their new music.”

“See? Nothing to be nervous about.” She places her hand lightly on your back knowing that the touch along with her words would help ease your anxiety. You’re still slightly overwhelmed walking into the room where lunch was set up but find quickly that there’s no need to be worried.

You meet the rest of the band and enjoy some delicious food. After a little while Mitch gets up saying that he needs to start getting ready. Sarah stands as well, and you look at them, unsure if you’re supposed to follow. Mitch tilts his head slightly and you understand that he wants you to go with them.

It’s while you’re walking back to the dressing room that you meet Harry Styles in person for the first time. You’re grateful for the few times you’ve spoken on the phone or FaceTime because you’re able to keep calm and not fangirl at all. He walks with you all back to the room, wanting to talk with Mitch before his first solo set.

While the boys are talking, you sit with Sarah and watch her do her hair and makeup. She asks about your flight and what you think of the Irish scenery so far; all the small talk you avoided before lunch.

After a couple minutes Harry stands, saying, “Alright well I’ll let you guys finish getting ready. Y/N, would you like me to help you find someone to show you where to watch from?”

Before you can answer Mitch replies, “Actually Pete’s supposed to come back in a little bit to show her.”

“Oh, okay. Sounds good then. Y/N it was lovely officially meeting you. I hope you enjoy the show.”

You smile and wave as he walks away, all of you unaware of how closely he was observing your trio. Harry knew Mitch likes his time away from everyone, and assumed he would want no one other than Sarah before getting on stage, but here he is insisting this new friend stays. Harry also noticed how comfortable you and Sarah were while she was getting ready, small touches shared between you. He figures it could just be friendly, you helping her make sure her hair is exactly in place, but for some reason it seemed more intimate than that. Add on the fact that you’re definitely wearing one of Mitch’s sweatshirts and Harry finds himself once again curious about your relationship with the couple.

After Harry’s gone, they quickly finish with their prep and get dressed. There are a few minutes left before they need to get their in-ears and head to the stage.

You watch as Mitch crosses to the door, locking it. He first walks over to Sarah, pulling her in for a deep, searing kiss. It’s short, but passionate. He turns to you and does the same. It’s a kiss with so much emotion that it fills your whole body with warmth.

As he goes to pull away you quietly tell him how wonderful he’s going to do, how proud you are of him. He tucks his face into your neck, seeing comfort from your words and touch. He starts nodding and you know that he’s listening, absorbing what you’re saying and gaining a burst of confidence.

He steps back and then there are once again lips against yours. This time they’re Sarah’s and they press gently against yours in a series of soft, chaste kisses. You give her a similar pep talk and then she pulls away.

Everyone takes a collective deep breath and Mitch unlocks the door. You make sure your hair is okay and you and Sarah check each other’s lipstick.

A minute later there’s a knock on the door, and the same guy from before, that you’ve now learned is Pete, stands on the other side. You give Mitch and Sarah each a quick friendly hug and follow him out to join the audience.

Once you walk outside, you’re met with an insane sight that takes your breath away. A sea of thousands of people full of excited energy. You’ve already been given a Johnny’s Place wristband and will mix in with the crowd there when Harry goes on, but you’re led to a spot close to the stage for Mitch’s set. You also have a special badge that will allow you backstage again throughout the day.

You’re looking around at the crowd when you start to hear loud cheering. You quickly turn back to the stage to see them walking out. Mitch’s face isn’t giving away much of what he’s feeling, but you know him well enough to see a slight bit of nerves. He grabs the first guitar he needs and scans the crowd. In no time at all his eyes meet yours, and you smile. His lips twitch ever so slightly and while he doesn’t smile back you see him visibly relax.

You love every second of watching him and Sarah. They do an amazing job and Mitch’s voice feels like home to you. The second he walks off stage you start to move. Earlier in the day they had asked you to meet them back in their dressing room after the set, and that is exactly where you are headed.

The door is open, so you walk in to wait for them. It’s a few minutes later when they swiftly enter the room. Sarah closes and locks the door as Mitch runs over to you, picking you up and spinning you around before placing you back in front of him and crushing his lips to yours. You gasp and feel his tongue pressing against yours.

The kiss is over as quickly as it began, knowing you all will only have a minute or two of privacy before people come looking to congratulate Mitch.

You press your forehead against his, whispering, “You did amazing. I am so, so proud of you.” A huge smiles spreads across his face, and Sarah comes over to wrap an arm around each of you for a moment. You both turn to kiss her, then take another minute to bask in this wonderful moment together before breaking apart and opening the door.

It doesn’t take long for others to start filing in and out. You hang in the back, proudly watching as Mitch receives all the well-deserved praise.

After a while it quiets down, people heading back outside to watch the other opening acts. You peek out and watch a little bit of Annie Mac and Inhaler, but mostly want to stay close to Mitch and Sarah as much as you can.

Pete comes back partway through Wet Leg’s set to escort you to your spot for the show. You mix into the Jonny’s Place crowd and find a spot towards the side about halfway back. It may not be front and center, but you can tell you’ll be able to see Mitch and Sarah fairly well, plus you’re right next to the catwalk you know Sarah will walk down for Matilda.

You enjoy the rest of Wet Leg’s performance and spend the break watching the fans around you, feeling every bit as excited as them, until finally you’re all singing the end of Bohemian Rhapsody. The crowd is buzzing with energy and the cheering increases as the band takes the stage and the intro starts.

You’ve already made eye contact with both Mitch and Sarah, and you have a good feeling people are going to share the clip of the slight smile Mitch gives when he sees you.

Harry makes his entrance and you’re screaming with everyone else, before singing along to Daydreaming. After the first few songs Harry takes a moment to shout out the openers and you cheer especially loudly for Mitch.

You continue to enjoy the show, watching Mitch with laser focus during She, continually amazed by his skill and talent. As soon as the song ends you expect to see Sarah walk to join Harry, Madi, and Elin at the B stage but then Harry says, “We haven’t played this one in a little while so bear with me,” and you, along with everyone else, start to freak out about what song they’re going to do.

The first notes to Little Freak start to play and everyone screams before starting to sing too early, and you laugh remembering the same thing happened at the show you attended months ago. While everyone has turned around to watch Harry, you keep your eyes on the main stage, loving the calmness Mitch and Sarah exude as they play this slower, more gentle song.

After it’s over Sarah walks past, glancing at you quickly with a smirk. Mitch starts the into to Matilda and you take in the moment around you. The setting sun makes for a beautiful background, and you can’t help but be enamored by Sarah. Her gentle sway, her hands clasped behind her back, and her voice coming through as a perfect harmony to the others.

You’ve listened to this song plenty of times before, even heard it live, but it’s hitting differently now. The words “you can start a family” bring tears to your eyes as you realize that’s what you’ve done in the past months with Mitch and Sarah. They’ve accepted you fully into their relationship, and you’ve joined their family.

By the end of the song, you’re smiling and crying. Sarah gives you a genuinely warm smile as she walks back to the main stage, and you know that she understands just what you’re feeling at that moment.

It takes a minute for you to compose yourself but once Harry gets to the Satellite Stomps you’ve wiped away your tears and are focused back on Sarah; you can watch the stomps at another show.

You continue to have the time of your life, singing and dancing along to the music. Hearing Fine Line live is as magical as you thought it would be and you feel like you could continue to live in that moment forever. Harry gives a wonderful performance, and the instrumental at the end is perfection.

They take their short break before coming back and doing the last 4 songs of the night. You scream as you hear Sarah hit the drumsticks and Mitch starts the iconic intro to Medicine. Once Kiwi begins you start looking everywhere at once, trying to watch every extremely talented member of this band during the final song of the night.

The next thing you know Harry’s doing his signature whale move and the show comes to an end. You quickly make your way through the crowd, showing your badge to get backstage again. After following voices, you turn a corner and see the band walking in front of you towards the dressing rooms.

“You guys better meet us back here to hang out while we wait!” Pauli shouts as Mitch and Sarah break off to the other room. You slide in the room behind the couple and close the door before pulling them in for a group hug.

“That was amazing! Thank you so much for bringing me here!”

“We’re so happy that you’re here with us, baby,” Mitch says, squeezing tighter as Sarah nods her head that’s resting on your neck.

After a minute you all break apart and they change out of their concert outfits.

“C’mon, we’d better join the others,” Sarah says and the three of you make your way back down the hall to where the rest of the band is hanging out.

“Welcome!” Ariza shouts. “Congrats everyone on another epic show! Sarah, Mitch, Y/N, drinks are over there. We’ve got some time to kill so might as well keep the party going!”

You all grab a drink and the next thing you know, you’re in the middle of a post-concert party with the love band. It’s nothing crazy, and you enjoy the opportunity to sit and chat with Madi, the newest band member. You learn she was also born in Connecticut but had moved to Pennsylvania very early and grew up there. You’re familiar with the area she was raised in, having visited there with your family on multiple occasions as a child and you two talk about places that you’ve both been.

After a little while Pauli and Yaffra join your group, and you find yourself listening to their conversation while not adding much. Suddenly the fatigue starts to hit, and you realize that aside from the short nap you had on the plane, you’d been up for nearly 36 hours straight. Your eyelids start to grow heavy as you lean against the arm of the couch. You’re fighting to keep your eyes open and look over to Sarah. She immediately notices how sleepy you are and comes over to sit next to you on the arm and rests a hand lightly on your shoulder.

She leans down and quietly says, “Shouldn’t be much longer and we’ll be heading out, okay love?” You nod, and she starts to run her fingers through your hair, which does nothing to help you stay awake but is incredibly comforting. You’re grateful that Sarah is known to be a rather affectionate person, and you relax into the touch knowing that no one is going to question how close you two are.

You’ve nearly fallen asleep with your head resting against her side when a crew member comes in to bring everyone to the vans. The crowds of fans have finally cleared the roads and almost all of the buses have left.

Once you get to the van you climb into the backseat followed by Sarah then Mitch. Elin and Ariza sit in the middle row, and you all start your journey.

The drive back to the hotel isn’t very long, but at this point you’re absolutely exhausted and it’s only a minute before you’re asleep with your head on Sarah’s shoulder. She wakes you when you arrive at the hotel and keeps a firm arm around your waist all the way back to your room, seeing that you’re barely awake.

You hand her your key, too tired to get it to work, and she walks into your room with you while Mitch goes next door. Luckily you have adjoining rooms, and he opens the connecting door on their side while Sarah does the same on your side, so they can sneak you into their room with no one seeing.

Sarah helps you get changed, brush your teeth, and remove your make up before leading you to their bed where Mitch is already laying down. You curl up to him and pass out immediately.

You wake up the next morning with a person on either side of you. It’s familiar but also foreign after sleeping alone for over a month. You tuck yourself further into the neck of the person you’re facing, and the feeling of scruff against your cheek informs you that it’s Mitch.

Sarah presses closer to you from behind and you feel her start to kiss your throat as Mitch’s hands travel up and down your body. You may have been too tired for anything the previous night, but now you feel well rested, completely alert, and you don’t want to waste another minute before finally reconnecting.

You lift your head up and without even opening your eyes you start to kiss Mitch’s neck, moving up to blindly search for his lips. Once you hit your target you let out a sigh at the feeling of sharing this intimate kiss with him.

It starts slow and lazy, tongues casually sliding against each other. After a couple of minutes, you break apart and you turn to Sarah. You throw a leg between hers and lay on top of her. She pulls you in and you’re lost in making out with her, grinding down to bring pleasure to both of you.

She starts lifting your shirt off and the three of you remove your pajamas, glad you all slept in the bare minimum of clothes the night before. You climb back on top of her before trailing kisses down her body. Once you reach her center you swipe your tongue across the intimate area, and the sounds you pull from her is music to your ears.

As you add a finger to the mix, you feel Mitch stand at the end of the bed. He pulls up your hips so he can line up himself behind you. His hard length slides through your folds and your eyes roll back in your head at that contact alone.

“Are you sure you want to go bare?” Mitch asks, referring to a conversation you all had had over the phone a few weeks ago. Right after they left for tour you had a doctor’s appointment and went on birth control and were excited to finally feel Mitch without a barrier.

“Yes, yes, please, I want to feel you,” you reply. Mitch doesn’t hesitate another moment and slides into you in one slow thrust. When you feel him bottom out, you’re overwhelmed and pull back from Sarah for a moment. You rest your head against her thigh and take a few deep breaths. She gently pets your hair as Mitch runs his hands along your back. The combination of sensual and sweet at the same time nearly short circuits your brain.

After a moment you regain your composure and bring your mouth back to Sarah’s core and start moving your fingers again. The room is filled with the sounds of everyone’s pleasure, and it feels so right that the three of you are finally able to reconnect in this way and bring everyone to this state of pure bliss.

You know when Sarah is getting close and focus on helping her cross that finish line. You slide your free hand along her torso, hoping to ease her down after her intense high.

You’re so focused on Sarah it takes a moment to realize that Mitch has stopped moving. He pulls out and you whine at the loss.

“I just want to see you,” Mitch says as he gently manhandles you onto your back then slides inside you again. It only takes another minute before you feel the familiar pressure building, and you come, your nails scratching along Mitch’s back at the overwhelming pleasure.

After another few sloppy thrusts, Mitch is finishing inside of you and you think that you could black out at the feeling of him coming without a condom. You pull him in for a sloppy kiss as you both come down. He stays inside of you for a few minutes, having figured out early on that the continued connection after sex is something you crave.

Finally he pulls out and as always, gets up to grab cloths to clean everyone. Before he can get back Sarah is on top of you, sliding one leg in between yours. She leans down to kiss you, and after a minute you feel her start to grind against your leg. You shift until her leg is against your core as well, and the two of you work up a rhythm.

Mitch watches as you both come again at the same time, your open mouth kisses turning into practically panting into each other’s mouth.

After you’ve both caught your breath, Mitch helps you both clean up. You whine as the cloth touches your now hypersensitive core and you hear him murmur apologies.

Once you and Sarah are clean Mitch lays down next to you both, wrapping his arms around you and pressing light kisses to your heads.

You almost fall back asleep when Mitch asks, “What do you think about being a typical tourist in Ireland for the afternoon?” Your eyes light up and you nod vigorously.

“I think that sounds perfect!”

The three of you get up and move into the shower together. You all eat room service while getting ready and shortly before you plan to leave there’s a knock on the door.

Mitch goes over to answer and a minute later walks back in with Harry following behind.

“Good morning girls,” Harry says.

“Hey Harry!” you reply.

“What are you guys up to today?” he asks.

“We’re gonna head into Dublin for a few hours. Y/N’s never been so we want to walk around and explore a bit,” Sarah answers.

“That sounds fun!” he answers, looking between the three of you.

“You’re welcome to join us if you’d like,” Mitch adds. He’s known Harry long enough to tell that he was hoping for an invitation, though he’s not entirely sure why. It’s rare that Harry chooses to head into big cities when he’s touring, knowing the high likelihood of being stopped by fans.

“I mean, if you all don’t mind, I’d love too,” he replies.

You all head out and enjoy a wonderful afternoon sightseeing. Harry does get stopped a handful of times, but the fans are all lovely and polite. The last activity of the day is the Guinness Storehouse for a tour and dinner; after all the plan was to be a typical tourist in Dublin.

Harry sits next to you on the ride home and spends the trip asking you questions about yourself. You enjoy the conversation, but there’s a voice in the back of your mind that cannot believe this is reality, that you're just casually talking to Harry Styles.

At the hotel Harry follows your trio up to your rooms, which you find curious since you know his room is on another floor. You all stand awkwardly in the hallway for a moment before Harry say, “Well, guess I should be heading back. It was lovely getting to know you more today, Y/N.” He leans in to give you a hug, which you don’t expect and you lift your arms somewhat ungracefully in return.

“Good-night everyone, see you all bright and early tomorrow,” he says as he waves and walks away.

You walk into your room while Mitch and Sarah walk into theirs. You immediately get changed into pajamas and do your bedtime routine. You walk back into the other room and sit on the bed, turning on the TV to wait while the others finish getting ready.

Mitch is the first to join you and the first words out of his mouth shock you. “I think Harry has a crush on you.”

While seconds ago you were verging on sleep, you’re suddenly wide awake. “What?” you ask, sitting up to stare at him, eyes practically bugging out of your head at what you view as an absurd statement. “Why in the world would you think that?”

“I’ve known Harry for years, I’ve seen how he is. He was definitely watching you today.”

“Okay, so say you’re right. What do I do if he tries to like, act on that crush? How do I turn him down without telling him about the three of us?”

At this point Sarah has joined the two of you on the bed and says, “What do you guys think about just telling him the truth?”

You turn to Mitch to get his response before sharing your own. “Well,” he starts. “I trust Harry. He’s my best friend. Honestly, I kind of want to tell him the truth soon no matter what. It feels weird keeping something this big from him.”

You nod as you listen to him, and pause for a moment before answering, “You know him best. If you trust him then I have no reason not to. I’m fine with him learning about us.”

Mitch grabs your hand and you both turn to Sarah who says, “I think we should tell him. Hopefully there’ll be a time this week we can all get together again and explain the story.”

Everyone feels a sense of happiness at the thought of finally letting someone in on the secret. The three of you have a wonderful relationship, but there’s something about someone on the outside knowing that makes it feel more real somehow.

You all cuddle under the covers, Mitch and Sarah wrapping their arms around you. It’s your favorite place to be, and you quickly fall asleep.

It’s an early morning the next day in order to get to the airport for the quick flight to London. You sit in the window seat with Sarah and Mitch next to you, and despite how early in the day it is you find yourself filled with excited energy. It’s only been a couple days since your trip away from home started and you’ve already had so much fun with your two favorite people. You cannot wait to see what the rest of the trip brings.

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AN: Thanks you so much for reading this chapter! I hope you're enjoying it and would love to know what everyone's thinking so far!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @theekyliepage @numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry @ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess @houseofdilfs @shaquille-0atmeal-1 @kissitnhekitchen

#harry styles x reader #mitch rowland x reader #mitch rowland x sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x reader #mitch rowland x harry styles #sarah jones x mitch rowland x reader

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maxverstappensflatbrim · 10 months

Text

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [24]

chapter twenty-four, act three: so far (it's alright)

masterlist

February 27th 2015

Tommie sits at the bar of this random rooftop party, swirling her drink around in the glass. It’s just a coke, Caleb had mentioned in front of the bartender how she turned twenty one later on in the year, so now the guy refused to serve her anything of interest.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.”

The guy behind the bar looks up at the new woman beside her and she smiles, “ID?”

“Oh, shoot, shoot, shoot. Seems I have forgotten it, um, I was here last week, you served me, remember?”

“No.” The guy says deadpan, “Kid, you look twelve, no ID, no drink.”

“You should try the coke, it’s divine.” Tommie says sarcastically to her.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s that accent?” The woman with bright hair asks.

“Welsh.” Tommie says, then gets ready for her usual speech. ‘England, London, you know, the Queen, Brits, yeah well the UK isn’t just one country, it’s three, well three and a bit, I guess. And no, I don’t live in a whale, Wales is a country-’

“Oh, cool, I’ve been there once, it was a total accident though. My drummer took a wrong turn and we ended up in some place called like Chepton or something.”

“Chepstow.”

She nods quickly, “Yeah, it was actually a cute, little town, you from near there?”

“Uh, not far, grew up like an hour out of Cardiff.”

“Cardiff’s your capital, right?”

She nods, “I’m Phoebe, by the way.”

“Tommie.”

“Nice to meet you.” She smiles, and purses her lips turning away to look around the party.

“You from LA? Visiting?”

Phoebe nods, “From here, yeah. Uh, this guy- do you know who's throwing the party, what was his name, Brad, Bret?”

She shrugs, “Some arsehole frat name like that, I’m not sure, my boyfriend dragged me here.”

She chuckles, “Mine too, well, the guys an old friend of his and he’s trying to get my music heard by pulling some strings apparently, Brad Bret, has friends high up in the industry.” Phoebe shrugs, “I don’t want to do it that way, I want to be founded, like in a dingy bar by a producer who’s right on the tipping point of their career, struggling with their partner, losing custody of their kids and I’m the big break that turns their life around again.”

Tommie smiles at that, “You have any music out?”

She nods, “Yeah, some stuff on youtube.”

“I’ll give it a listen.”

Phoebe's smile brightens a little bit and Tommie finds her own mirroring hers, “Sorry,” She apologies before speaking again, “You probably get this a lot, especially around here, and I feel like an inconsiderate asshole, but I just want you to know, I think you’re great.”

Tommie blushes slightly, “Thank you.”

“Honestly, your writing is just absolutely amazing. I mean your poem Trial Child, stuck with me for weeks.”

Tommie’s smile brightens just a little bit when she realises she’s recognised for her poetry and not her band.

“Thank you, it means a lot. I don't really get complimented on my writing often.”

“Really? Why not, it’s great. More than great.”

She thanks her again as they go back to people watching, “Which one’s your boyfriend?” Tommie asks.

She points to a blonde guy standing with a beer in hand across the bar, “He’s the one with sunglasses talking to the short guy with weird spiky hair. Where's yours?”

“The short guy with weird spiky hair.”

Phoebe laughs. The pair stick together the entire night, when Tommie goes for a smoke (around the back so Caleb won’t see) Phoebe goes with her, sharing her last three cigarettes as they talk music.

The door behind them opens and Tommie’s glad that Pheobes is holding the cigarette in her hand, “Hey, babe, you ready?”

She nods pushing herself up, “It was nice meeting you, Tommie.”

She smiles, “Text me next time you’re around.”

Phoebe nods, “I should say that to you, I live here.”

“Right, well, I’ll text you when I’m in LA again.”

Phoebe nods, “I await your message.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ

“Who was that girl you were with?” Caleb asks as he hangs his coat up.

Mitchell perks up from the dining room table as the door opens, “Hey.”

“Uh, Phoebe… didn't get her last name actually. She’s a singer, was really nice.”

“I recgonised her,” Caleb tells her, nodding to Mitchellvand then kicking at Shane’s foot to wake him up, “Think I’ve seen her perform before.”

“She any good? She gave me the vibe that she is. She was confident but not cocky, you know?”

Claeb shrugs, “Not for me, but she wasn’t bad.”

She nods watching as he pushes Shane towards his bedroom in the loft apartment. “Where’s James?”

“At his female’s apartment.”

Tommie’s nose curls as she walks over to the kitchen to grab herself a drink, “Wow, and you wonder why no ‘females’ want you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

She stands kicking the fridge door shut and leans on the counter, looking through the small little open window that looks into the living/ dining area.

“Don’t call women females if you want them to even look at your dick.”

Caleb smirks to himself, moving to pick at some of the grapes in the fruit bowl, arms tugging her towards him.

“Bridgers.”

“What?”

“Phoebe Bridgers, I remember now, I know her boyfriend Marshall.”

She lifts her head in acknowledgement, “You guys in the studio tomorrow?”

He nods, thumbs rubbing across her hip bones, “Yeah, I was hoping you could come in and give some pointers.”

“Different genres,” She shakes her hand as if to dismiss the idea, “I won’t be any good with country rock.”

“Your voice would better suit country. You have like this,” He pulls a weird face to try and make an example, “This sort of high pitched twinge, at the end of long or high notes. Sometimes you control it,” He sees the look on her face and quickly shakes his head, “No, no, it’s good. It’s what gives you that edge, that special sound that is only you.”

She shakes her head and reaches into her pocket for her phone, “I’m gonna give her a call, see if she wants to meet up.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ

February 28th 2015

“Hey.” Phoebe grins, holding the door open for her, “Come on in.”

She looks around the little studio, watching as some people play around with instruments, “You recording? EP?”

“No,” She shakes her head picking up her acoustic guitar, “Got one song on a Lost Ark album.”

“What’s it called?”

“Waiting Room, wrote it a while back, wanna hear?”

She nods and moves over to sit in the chair by the mix board, Phoebe leans over her to hit play and she lifts the big bulky headphones up over her head to listen.

Phoebe watches intently, sitting beside her as she watches her nod her head up and down, miming the lyrics a little.

Of course she knows who Tommie is. She’s not stupid, everyone’s heard of the 1975 in her band so it was only a matter of time. She just didn;t want to seem like a psycho fan going up to her yesterday.

“Can I make a suggestion?”

Phoebe nods quickly, “Of course, you’re the expert.”

Tommie brushes the comment off before asking, “Is this saved? I don’t want to change anything if you don’t like it.”

“It’s saved, three different copies.” She nods then moves forward.

“The drums, I think they should come in a little later instead of straight away,” Phoebe watches as she moves the mouse on the screen to remove the drum beat, instead of cutting it she delays it, “And you have a great voice, don’t hide it behind layers of instruments, make it the focus point.”

She pushes up the volume of Phoebe’s voice, pulling down the guitar and backing drums, “The guitar is great, did you write that?”

She nods quickly, “I did.”

“It’s amazing, how long have you been playing for?”

Phoebe shrugs, “Uh, I’m not sure, a long time.”

“Can I make another suggestion?” She nods again, gesturing to the board but Tommie turns to her instead, “Write more songs like this. Caleb said you’re in a band, Sloppy Jane?” Phoebe nods again, “I listened to some of their stuff, they’re good, but I think you’re better.”

Phoebe lifts her shoulders at that, “So what leave them?”

Tommie shrugs, “I’m not telling you to do that, but I do think you’d be better as a solo act, or at least with other singers that compliment you, not try to outshine you. You have a beautiful voice, don’t let it be silenced.”

“What if I told you the same? Told you to leave the band would you?”

Tommie thinks it over then shrugs her shoulders, “I’m not a solo act. I like being in the background, and by the way you’re performing in those youtube videos, you like being up front.”

Phoebe smiles, “Would it be cheeky if I asked you to record it with me?”

“This song?” She nods and Tommie sinks back into her chair, the confident producer persona she just had fading, “It’s your song, Phoebe-”

“Please?” She asks, “I won’t put it anywhere, just for us?”

“Okay.”

Tommie was in the studio with Phoebe for hours, after the first two hours where Phoebe spent their time teaching her the guitar tune, the band had left.

They played around with different instruments, isolated vocals, harmonised together perfectly until the sun went down and it was nearing one in the morning.

Tommie leans back in her chair with a successful grin and Phoebe leans over to hug her back into her chest.

“Thank you.”

“I had fun. Thank you.”

“Here,” Phoebe moves to download a copy onto one of the memory sticks before handing it over to her, “Who knows, maybe years in the future we’ll both be world class famous rockstars and they’ll dig this up from the archives.”

“Who knows.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe

-let me know if you want to be added :)

#show me yours matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x oc #matty healy imagine #the 1975 x oc

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thefrontofmymind · 11 months

Text

Might As Well 5; Is This Town Worth Living In?

matty healy x videographer!reader

WC: 5252

masterlist

You treated it like a job. An unpaid, harrowing job. Every gig you would act as roadie for the band; driving to the gig in Matty’s van–wordlessly–setting up all their equipment, cheering as loud as you could for every song, and then packing it all up and going home again. It broke your heart, this professional partnership with Matty. It wasn’t working, even with minimal words between you, so much was being said.

I love you.

I miss you.

Me too.

I know but it’d never work.

I don’t care.

You’d begun working on some new ideas for music videos with him. You needed something to talk about apart from yourselves. It was an alright distraction, it’d fill the time of the long drives to pubs in the city, one weekend you even made your way to Sheffield for a gig once. Months went by, and it felt like your life was passing you by, but the only real thing was those drives. Even with your skin itching and your heart breaking, Matty’s presence brought you comfort.

It was beginning to get warmer, the sun was staying up later and you didn’t mind the windows down as Matty drove. The rest of the guys had to take off early, all citing different excuses, though you knew they all thought it a bother to have to pack up all the equipment. George once told you he was just waiting for when they were famous and they could have a whole team sort it out for them.

You were trying to fit all of the equipment in the back of the van, always a game of tetris. You’d even taken off your signature high-tops, as much as you loved them, that weren’t exactly the most flexible of shoes. You had to talk to him, really talk to him. You couldn’t stand not talking to him for much longer.

“Hey,” you said to him as you were going back and forth with boxes and cables and cases, but it came out more like a question. Matty hummed in response, matching your cadence. “I…have news…”

“What? You’re pregnant or something?” He joked. You loved to see him laugh with you.

“No! God no!” You laughed. “Do you think you’ll ever get out of here?”

“Wilmslow?” He asked. You nodded. “I hope. One day. Why? You thinking about leaving?”

“I’ve got an offer for a film school in Brighton.”

“Oh my god!” He answered. “That’s amazing! You should go for it!”

“You think?”

“Of course! If you think this’ll be your ticket, you should go for it. And yeah, it’s far from home and all that, but there is nothing stopping you from visiting us all!”

“I guess…I’m going to Brighton!”

“It’d be nice, at the seaside…You could get a tan…”

“Yeah,” you answered. “It will be.”

It felt like a weight off your chest. Being alright with Matty. You’d found a spot somewhere between friends and nothing that was comfortable. You would engage in light chitchat, small talk, and anything regarding creative endeavours, but nothing else was on the table. If he wanted to know how Chris and the rest of your family was doing, he could ask them, and likewise.

You felt content. Happy, even. You were settled in what you called ‘your life for now’. You had friends, your health, and you were on the road to university in just a few months and you would live a life that you were proud of. You’d have no idea it would all come shattering down with a simple private message.

Justine McIntyre

hi! i have a question?

You were intrigued. You did a quick scan of this Justine’s profile. She just seemed like a normal girl your age from Cardiff. She probably knew Dylan or something, maybe a friend he went to school with or something.

hellooo wats goin on??

Immediately you a response. Almost faster than you think any person could type.

how do you know dylan?

You typed an answer.

hes my boyfriend. r u a mate of his?

Ping! An answer that shocked you to your core.

hes MY boyfriend!

omg that cheating cunt!

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer, your hands were shaking too much to make any sense. Your vision blurred and it felt like a vice was around your throat.

You closed your laptop and got under your bed sheets. And you just cried. You couldn’t fathom it, the first guy to ever like you and make an effort, and it was all an act. You let out silent sobs, tears flowing down your face and onto your pillow. You could’ve been just crying and staring at the ceiling for hours.

It was late by the time you’d gotten so dehydrated that the tears had no option but to stop. It was dark outside and the rest of the house sounded quiet; at least from what you could tell in your disconnected state.

You put on your shoes, grabbed your keys, and left your room. You needed fresh air, you needed to think.

You weren’t even thinking of being scared of walking alone in the dark. It was like your brain turned onto autopilot as you walked. You kept going over everything, every action, every sentence, every kiss and more, in your head. How much of it was real?

You knew after a while that if you stopped, your legs just wouldn’t start again, so you kept going. And going, and going.

A familiar house came into view. Surely Mr and Mrs Healy wouldn’t mind a case of light breaking and entering. You’d yet to meet them, but from what you heard they were lovely and understanding people. You quietly opened the gate into the back garden. And lo and behold, the light of the shed was on.

You knocked on the door, and after hearing a faint ‘what is it?’, you opened it. Though it was like something was stopping you from crossing the threshold, so you stood in the doorway. It took a couple seconds for Matty to react. He was lounging on the small sofa, guitar in hand and notebook and pen in front of him.

He looked up at you, he knew something was wrong the second he laid eyes on you. He quickly stood up and approached, when you just crumbled into him, sobbing all the way through. And he simply held you while you cried, a comforting hand firmly rubbing your back.

“Tell me what’s happened,” he said as you began to calm down.

“He has another girlfriend…in Wales…he’s cheating on me…” You answered between sniffles. Matty didn’t say anything, just enveloping you in an even tighter hug–if that was possible. “How could I be such an idiot?”

“You’re not an idiot. He is,” he answered. “You did nothing wrong…”

You began to actually feel at ease in Matty’s hold. You could breathe again.

“Do you wanna…” He pointed behind his back. “Come inside?”

You nodded and he finally let go of you. You walked inside and settled on the sofa. You tried to take a peek at the notebook, but Matty closed it and put it off to the side before you could see. All you noticed was a very short title scribbled at the top of the page.

“Not finished yet…” was all he said before going back to fiddling with the guitar, random little riffs he was coming up with. “Do you…want to talk about it?”

You sighed. “A girl messaged me on MySpace, asking how I knew him, so I told her that he was my boyfriend, and then she was like ‘what? He’s my boyfriend’, and I just…” You put your head in your hands, trying to stop the tears from brimming again. “Then I walked here.”

“You walked?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, darling…” He put the guitar down again–gently–and pulled you into him. It felt like a new home for you there against his chest. “I’m so sorry…”

Somewhere in the cosmos, the fates were looking in on you; as you were pressed against his chest, looking up at his sorrowful face, you had a choice ahead of you. You couldn’t take it. You wouldn’t take it.

You quickly moved from his grasp, mentally kicking yourself for even thinking about leaning in, and finally kissing him–after a year of friendship you were so close to throwing it all away. It would’ve been a dumb, rash decision that you would regret once you calmed down. You thought long about it in the past, you knew Matty’s feelings on the matter. But it just wasn’t right, you couldn’t kiss someone else while you were in a relationship–no matter the worsening condition of it.

You sat a good foot away from Matty and told him everything. Really just unloading on him–though he was happy to be on the receiving end. You couldn’t help but go on a long spiel, explaining how hurt you were, how the first time you trusted someone enough to let them in, they just had to hurt you anyway. You told him about your childhood, growing up with separate parents, that you promised yourself you wouldn’t let yourself get into a position like your mum, alone raising two kids after their dad ran out on them for greener pastures.

It was so cathartic, you’d never told anyone how you felt about it all–not even Chris, your one confidante who understood how you felt because he was feeling it too. After it all, you let out a big sigh, a weight was off your chest.

“Do you want some advice?” He asked.

“If you’re giving it out.”

“You can’t keep hurting,” he started. “You have to cut off this pain at the source.”

“Dylan?”

He nodded. “You need to tell him it’s over.”

“I know…”

You began to think, to plan. You decided it was best to do it in person. You wanted to look him in the eye and really talk to him. And you just couldn’t act before that, you had to treat your life like he hadn’t done what he did. You wouldn’t stoop to his level, you wouldn’t act on your urges, no matter how much it seemed like the universe was begging you to kiss the boy across from you.

You spend most of your time in hiding. Secluded to your room while you thought everything over. Dylan had still been texting you like normal, you answered in short, curt sentences but he didn’t seem to notice.

You broke the news to Chris, to which he gave you a hug and called him a prick. You begged him not to tell your mum and stepdad why you two broke up, you didn’t want either of them to kick off. On the first evening of your solitude your baby brother, Luke, gently knocked on your door and shuffled inside your hole of a room.

“I want you to know I would never cheat on a girl,” he said.

“Thanks, mate,” you answered, not moving from your spot under your covers. He was a sweet kid, and he always knew what to say to make you feel better–as best he could.

You got a message from Ross, saying he hoped you were okay–he was quickly becoming a comfort to you, someone who you could rely on–indicating that either Matty or Chris had spilled the beans.

You didn’t speak to Matty. You couldn’t speak to Matty. There was so much running through your head, you couldn’t think straight. After an entire year of friendship, you were convinced you were happy with just that, but simply watching him, looking at the photos you’d taken at small gatherings and gigs, it made your heart flutter–more than Dylan had ever done. You just didn’t know what to say. You probably typed up a thousand messages explaining how you were feeling, what you were going to do. But in all honesty, you just couldn’t put a name on the pain running through you. You wished you could take a several-day long nap and you could wake up and all your problems would be solved for you. All you knew you had to break up with Dylan, that was obvious.

Part of you was hoping it wasn’t real and she was just some weirdo who wanted some attention–even though this Justine was posting photo after photo with Dylan and his friends, and they all seemed very chummy with each other in the comments. You couldn’t help but read each and every one of them, each giving you another stab to your heart. You managed to get a train ticket down a couple weeks ahead. You just had to wait.

For now, you tried to keep yourself busy. Films, music, your own personal projects. It wasn’t working all that great, but you had no other option. You tried to immerse yourself in your favourite films, comfort movies you would save for rainy days or when you were sick.

You sunk further and further into your mattress on one particularly hard day, Dylan hadn’t answered any of your messages–something that you used to not bat an eye at, an often occurrence, but now you could only imagine what he was getting up to. You were under your covers, it was getting warmer outside but you didn’t mind the thin sheen of sweat over you if it meant you could be cosy. You were watching one of your favourite movies, Alice In Wonderland, you loved the colours, the needlessly nonsensical dialogue, and the all-over plot. It was the perfect movie to get lost in, you’d loved it since you were a kid.

There was a knock at the door. You figured it was someone in your household bringing you a cup of tea or just asking how you were going–normal procedure over that past couple days. You called out a small ‘come in’ and the door creaked open. The mop of hair you were desperately trying not to think of was standing at the precipice.

“Hey, Healy,” you said, trying not to notice the jump in your chest.

“How are you, kid?” He asked, quickly walking to sit on the edge of your bed.

“I’ve had better days.”

He chuckled, turning to see what was playing on your small TV that sat on top of your chest of drawers. “Wow! Alice In Wonderland! I haven’t seen this since I was…little.”

You patted the mattress next to you–almost on instinct–and he got the idea, kicking his Vans off and shuffling to lay next to you, a position you had become quite familiar with on your occasional movie nights together.

You were trying to watch the movie, but you couldn’t with all your focus on Matty’s breath. In and out, in, laugh, and out. His arm rested on top of your duvet, your leg underneath it, your skin felt like it was tingling, almost like frostbite.

Eventually, you weren’t even watching the movie, just his face as he laughed at all the antics on the screen. You could see just a little bit of stubble in patches across his right cheek, his front teeth were just a little crooked, his eyes were the kind of brown that was so deep, you wanted to take a dive into them. You noticed things you hadn’t seen before. He was becoming more and more of a person in your mind, he was real.

A shock of terror ran down your spine as he locked eyes with you, a smirk at catching you staring. You didn’t say anything, just quickly whipped your gaze back to the film. You heard a small, breathy chuckle from beside you, drilling a hole into your mind.

Deep breaths. No tears. You’ll be okay. You told yourself over and over on the train ride. You could feel your entire body shaking with anxiety, including your internal organs…somehow.

You heard your phone ping, a text. It was your mum.

hi sweetie! sorry i couldnt get out of work to drive you. were all here for you xox

You smiled at the message. You didn’t exactly tell your family why you felt the urge to go see your dad for a random weekend only mere weeks before you would be on summer break, but they could infer. Your stepdad had given the biggest, most comforting hug you’d ever gotten from him at the train station, and a reassuring, “we all love you.”

As the train hauled to a slow stop, your heartbeat got faster. Some of the passengers on your carriage began to get up and get ready to go on with their lives outside of this metal tube–in the slow kind of way that hopefully by the time they were ready, the doors will have opened. But not you. You brain was going at a million miles a minute, going over all the things that could go wrong, including but not limited to accidentally punching him in the face, finding out a close family member of his had just died, and of course, finding out that he wasn’t cheating on you and it was all just a big misunderstanding. Though now you just wanted it over, you’d convinced yourself it was the best option. You were getting ready to go off to uni, you needed some time to grow and so on.

The doors opened and you knew there was no escape, you just had to face it. You grabbed your bag from the rack above your seat.

You saw your dad standing not far beyond the entrance of the station. Without even thinking about it, you were bounding towards him, engulfing him in the biggest thing imaginable. You hadn’t told him much of what was happening, just that you really needed to come down to Llandough and quickly.

“Shall we head off then?” He asked, to which you nodded. “I thought we could get pizza for tea, we can pick it up on the way.”

You always loved visits with your dad. Now almost a year on from your first trip to see him, you’d fallen into a routine, and he always knew how to make each time you saw him special.

You spent the evening trying to distract yourself. Pizza and old movies with your dad. You quickly learnt that he was as much of a cinephile as you were. Boxes and boxes of DVDs and VHSs surrounded his office. Everything from the top action blockbusters, to obscure documentaries, he loved it all.

You settled into the sofa for the evening, pizza box on your lap and cheesy garlic bread on a plate on the coffee table in front of you. It was your dad’s turn to choose a film that night–you’d been taking turns picking, he went for a movie from when he was a kid, a murder-mystery, ‘Murder By Death’. You tried to savour the night as best you could, knowing there’d be suffering tomorrow.

With every step closer to the park, your breathing kept getting more and more shallow. In a dream world, you could turn right around and run back home. But you had to do this, it wouldn’t be fair to go on like how you were.

You thought for sure that Dylan already knew, this girl must have told him. And if you heading down on such short notice wasn’t a clue that there was some kind of urgency, you didn’t know what was.

You saw him sitting under a tree. Your tree. Though now you supposed you could be content with just calling it his.

Once he saw you approaching him, he stood and met you in the middle. He gave you a half-hug and a kiss on the top of your head. It caught you by surprise at just how awkward and forced it all felt. Was it always like this? You sat down on the grass next to him. He was smiling at you, you almost felt like the bad guy here.

After some chit chat, how you were both doing and whatnot, you thought it best to get down to business.

“I…got a message on MySpace,” you started.

He hummed and nodded intently.

“It was from this girl…Justine.”

He sighed. “I know…”

“So what she told me was true? About you?”

“Well what did she tell you?” What kind of game was he playing here?

“She told me that you’re a cheating rat, that’s what.”

He didn’t reply, and kept avoiding eye contact by playing with the blades of grass between his fingers.

“What the fuck is your deal?” You didn’t realise how much anger was suddenly bubbling up. “Why did you do it?”

“What? Like you’re not fucking Matt back home?”

You scoffed. “I would never do that to-to someone I trusted! Someone I loved!”

“Don’t act like you never even thought about it, love, I’m not blind.”

“What if I thought about it? I have-had you! You were it for me.”

“Listen…” He shuffled and grabbed your shoulders, finally looking you in the face. “It was never gonna work out with us, you knew that.”

Tears began to form in your eyes, you were speechless.

“How could it? We’re hours apart from each other…we see each other like once a fortnight…And we’re about to go off to uni anyway, don’t you want to experiment and all that?” He continued.

“Why did you start this in the first place then? If it was going nowhere?”

“Because it…was fun? It’s not like we were gonna marry each other.”

“So you cheat on me.”

“I guess…”

“I would say it was nice knowing you but…this is the worst another person has ever made me feel.”

“Sorry,” he said quickly.

You got up to leave. You really had nothing else to say to him, you thought.

“Just one more thing,” you started. “Did she break up with you too? For cheating on her?”

“She did.”

“Good,” was all you could say.

You walked as quickly as you could back home. It was the kind of walk where you felt like if your legs stopped moving, they wouldn’t start again, so you just kept going; inside the house, up the staircase, and to your “bedroom”, before collapsing onto the bed in a flurry of tears and sobs.

After a few moments, you managed to calm down. You thought it was probably just the shock of it all. The realisation that it was real. You were cheated on by your first boyfriend, and he broke your heart.

You couldn’t help but replay that last conversation, everything you said to each other. You were surprised at just how well you held it together, and at an admission you made–something you hadn’t even thought about much.

You’d never quite confessed it, even to yourself, but it was the truth. At times, you’d fantasised about Matty. You’d heard the stories, you knew what kind of guy he was, and it intrigued you.

Sure, anytime you’d made any kind of physical contact with him it sent a shiver up your spine, and yeah, you’d felt a pang of jealousy when he’d talk about any other girl. But you would never act on it, you’re in a relationship–were, you were in a relationship.

And last you knew, he liked you, and you knew that you liked him, and there was nothing in the way of stopping you from…acting on it.

Suddenly you couldn’t wait to get back to Wilmslow.

You got back on Monday morning–you were pretty much finished with all of your college projects so you knew it was fine to miss a day. Chris was gracious enough to drive all the way to the station to pick you up. You two made light smalltalk on the way home, fighting over the radio station and pointing out the paddock of horses on your way home–you felt normal and actually mentally alright for the first time over that weekend.

You spent the day in your room, surrounded by your creature comforts. Slowly you could feel your heart come back together, piece by piece.

There was still one issue, glaring you from the corner of your vision. You tried not to focus on it. Him.

You needed…to get your head straight, you needed some time to not think with so much pressure. You called the first person who came to mind with the thought of ‘no pressure’.

“What?” He picked up within two rings.

“George! Are you busy?”

“Um…Not really.”

“Would you wanna…” How do you phrase this? “Go somewhere and get high?”

“Yeah,” he answered, very nonchalantly. “I’m supplying?”

“Please, I’ll pay you back.”

“I’ll be right over.” And he hung up.

Very soon, you could hear the sound of a clanky, old engine outside the front of your house. Then your phone rang.

“Hello?”

“I’m here,” he said. You could feel his apprehensiveness through the phone.

“I’ll come down in a second, we can go to the park or something?”

“Okay, yeah, sounds good.”

With a loud announcement to the rest of the house of your departure, you were out the door and into George’s car–a small Toyota that had an overwhelming smell of weed and was in desperate need of a vacuum.

After some quick directions on how to get to the small paved area in the park that you’d sat at, getting high with Matty. Matty.

George lit a joint he got from the glovebox, taking a couple puffs before handing it to you–now getting comfortable, sitting cross-legged in the passenger seat.

“So…” He started. “What’s up?”

“Well-” You exhaled. “I broke up with Dylan.”

“Good. He was a dick!” He laughed.

“He was a bit, wasn’t he?” You joined in on the laughter.

“We-uh-all got bad vibes from him.”

“Like what?” You couldn’t get over how cathartic it felt to speak to someone the way you were, a real friend who you could actually be honest with.

“Take it from a guy-” He gestured to himself. “He didn’t seem…invested. In you.”

“Yeah…” You had to agree, given the circumstance that led to the end of the relationship.

You spend so long just chatting back and forth, even when the weed ran out, the conversation didn’t. It felt good to find…an equal, a friend without any pretences; you barely felt any anxiety in talking to him, it all just came so naturally to you.

It was beginning to get late, you had to get home for dinner. So George drove you back home with a friendly farewell, and you went to sleep that night just a little easier with the relief of getting a lot that was weighing on you finally off of your chest.

You exchanged cordial texts with Matty over the next couple weeks, but you didn’t see him–the band hadn’t had a gig all that while so you weren’t quite forced to see him. He knew your position–now single–and it would only be a matter of time before you would be in the same room again. You were curious on how he would react, how he did react.

You wouldn’t have to wait much longer, Ross was having a little get together for his twentieth birthday, just the guys, you and some other close friends.

It felt good to get all dolled up and ready for a party again, living in seclusion had its drawbacks at times, you were yearning for some social interaction. Chris drove you both there, but not before a comment from him about how it was good to see you up and about.

Ross’ house was thumping with bass inside, you could see some familiar faces around the living room, as well as some of his family that you politely greeted and told your name with a firm handshake. It wasn’t long before you settled in the back garden in a circle of the “kids” your age, passing round fags and light chatter.

Somehow, at some point of the night, Matty ended up next to you. You said a polite “hi” to him, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You’d never felt like this before, this anticipation.

As the evening ticked onwards, the drinks flowed more and more. Without thinking much on it, you found yourself leaning onto Matty’s shoulder. Eventually he put an arm around you to steady you, but you only used it as an opportunity to lean even further.

“You alright?” He asked in a whisper, not audible to anyone else in the group over the music and admittedly loud, drunken discussions in front of you.

“Yeah, tired,” you answered.

“D’you want me to take you home? Not had a drink in a while.” He pointed to the empty beer bottle on the floor next to him, it had been sitting there for a couple hours at least.

“Can we go back to your house?”

“You wanna do that?”

“Yeah. I know I do.”

In a flash, you’d said goodbye to the rest of the party, in his van, and back to his house. At some point in the short drive you’d gotten the giggles, and now Matty was desperately trying to shush you to keep you from waking the entire house up.

After stealthily–as stealthily as you could–making it up to his room, you took off your trusty boots and practically launched yourself onto his bed. It was soft and smelt like him, you were in heaven.

“Do you want some toast?” He whispered. You fervently nodded. “Okay, just be quiet and stay up here.”

You did as you were told. Sitting on his bed and just taking in the room, you’d never been in his bedroom, let alone his house, before. You smiled at his bookshelf, mostly full of books you’d never heard of before, and then a small stack of DVDs to one side of it, all recommendations you’d given him. You saw not one, but two guitars sitting proudly in one corner–an acoustic and a dark red electric. Soon enough, the door let out a miniscule squeak, notifying you of Matty’s re-entry.

“I made you two slices, one with butter and one with jam, I didn’t know what you wanted.”

“Thank you,” you answered, taking the plate and resting it in your lap.

Matty sat down next to you and just watched you eat, though you were a little too preoccupied in trying to figure out if the jam was strawberry or raspberry flavoured to notice.

“Could I…” He started, a cautious hand out in front of him. “Pinch a piece?”

You let out an enthusiastic hum and held out the plate to him, he opted for a butter-y piece. You were surprised at how relaxed you were, it all felt natural, just eating toast in silence.

You finished the plate and placed it onto his nightstand.

“Good?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I feel more…sober now.”

He laughed. “Good.”

“I never actually properly told you…” He looked confused. “I broke up with him.”

“Yeah…”

“And I’m single now.”

“I figured.” He was acting so nonchalant.

“So if something were to happen with someone else, it would be okay.”

“Do you want something to happen?”

Maybe you weren’t as sober as you thought, because the next words out of your mouth would never happen without some kind of liquid courage.

“I wouldn’t have asked to come back to his place if I didn’t.”

With that, he launched towards you and then his lips were on yours.

#matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy imagine

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invisibleicewands · 15 days

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Michael Sheen says 'it fills my heart' in passionate message about Wales that will give you goosebumps

Michael Sheen has been reflecting on what it is he loves about Wales ahead of his debut as Aneurin Bevan in new stage drama Nye - and his passionate message is enough to give you goosebumps.

Speaking to WalesOnline ahead of the play’s Cardiff run, Sheen opened up about why he keeps coming back to Wales and indeed now lives here again, even though his work takes him all over the world. “It’s my home,” he says. “It's where my family are, where my friends are, where I grew up. It's the country whose history is closest to my heart, whose people I care about the most, the communities that I care about the most. It is what shaped me, informed me, and what continues to shape and form me.

“Aside from anything to do with the natural beauty of the country, the warmth of the people, the history of the communities, how we grew up here, the challenges that we've had in the past and that we still face and that have shaped who we are now and why we are the way we are now and what our aspirations are, all of those things. [Wales is] what fills my head and fills my heart.”

The Newport-born, Port Talbot raised actor is recognised for his ability to transform into his characters, notably real life people like former Prime Minister Tony Blair, broadcaster David Frost, and controversial football manager Brian Clough.

Sheen, 55, who has more recently played Chris Tarrant in ITV drama Quiz and the angel Aziraphale in Good Omens opposite David Tennant, is now looking forward to starring in the title role of Nye, a co-production between the Wales Millennium Centre and the National Theatre, which sees the actor portray the founder of the National Health Service.

Interestingly, Nye will be the first time that Sheen performs on stage in his home country. Despite his groundbreaking performance as Jesus Christ in National Theatre Wales' The Passion which was staged on location across Port Talbot during Easter weekend in 2011, the actor revealed he's never actually fronted a show at the Wales Millennium Centre in Cardiff.

“To be able to do this play and tell this story about this man on that stage is really exciting,” Sheen commented. “When we got there to start doing the tech and just stepped out onto the stage, it was really exciting. You could feel the whole company getting really excited and just looking out into that beautiful auditorium and just thinking about it being full of people coming to watch this play.

“The fact that we're telling this story, which is such a Welsh story about a Welsh legend, has been exciting from the very beginning. When we first started rehearsing, knowing that we'd be coming to Wales at the end of it, everyone was incredibly excited about that. To now actually be here and be just days away from starting the performance is quite thrilling.”

Sheen said that, perhaps for the first time in his career, he knew ‘everything’ about the man he was playing. A new play written by Tim Price, a synopsis for Nye reads: “Confronted with death, Nye's deepest memories lead him on a mind-bending journey back through his life; from childhood to mining underground, parliament and fights with Churchill in an epic Welsh fantasia.”

Sheen said of playing Bevan: “In the last 10 years I've come to really appreciate who [Aneurin Bevan] was and what he did and what he achieved. This was an opportunity to be able to put everything I knew and felt about him into a piece on stage.

“It’s a very particular challenge playing a real person who is very well known by the audience. That brings all kinds of unique challenges that you wouldn't normally get if you're playing a fictional character, obviously, or a real life person that people don't really know that well. And with playing Nye as well, it feels like a huge responsibility. I mean, it's a privilege to play him and to tell his story, but it's also a massive responsibility because there have been very few things out there about him, and it's such an important story.

“I already had such a strong feeling about him, a strong relationship to him and what he achieved. I know people who feel incredibly passionate about him and what he did. That brings an even greater level of responsibility to it. It was a great relief to know that once we started performing the play, people were accepting of me playing the part and were enjoying it and felt that it portrayed Bevan in a way that did him justice.”

Sheen added that the NHS itself has “always” been there for him throughout his life, citing moments in which he has lost family members and friends, as well as caring for his two children with Swedish actress partner Anna Lundberg, Lyra and Mabli. “It's not just one moment, it's a lifetime, lifelong relationship.”

Another relationship that Sheen has developed in recent years is with Doctor Who star David Tennant. The pair have been firm friends since appearing in both Staged and Good Omens with each other – both of which were hugely successful. Of his friendship with Tennant, Sheen jokes: “David and I will keep working together as long as we don't fall out!” While he ruled out more episodes of Staged, Sheen will reunite with Tennant when the third and final series of Good Omens enters production next year. When asked whether he knows what the future holds for his character, the actor said: “I know what's going to happen in the entire story but I'm not going to tell anyone.”

Before then Sheen will take on another real life role, playing Prince Andrew in a new series about the infamous Newsnight interview the royal did with Emily Maitlis. The story was adapted into Netflix film Scoop earlier this year: “I thought Rufus was fantastic,” Sheen said of Rufus Sewell’s performance as Prince Andrew in Scoop. “I thought he was brilliant as Andrew, he was much better than me. He was more a supporting character in that though. Our story is about Prince Andrew and Emily, it's much more they are the lead characters. It's a different focus and requires a different approach to the character. I was having to look at, as I'm sure Rufus did, the interview in particular. When we were working on it I was listening and watching the interview multiple times a day, every day for months.”

Reflecting on playing the divisive member of the Royal Family, Sheen said: “The level of controversy in that story brings an extra layer as well. The fact that for whatever all our personal opinions might be about what did or didn't happen, or what he did or didn't do, we don't know for definite. There's been no actual court case. We don't know exactly what happened.

"That requires a real level of sensitivity in how you deal with the story, apart from anything else because of legalities and that stuff, but when I read the script I thought that was handled really well. I thought it was a very clever way of allowing the audience to have a satisfying dramatic experience, but still keeping a level of ambiguity, which I thought was done very well on the script. Playing that character was challenging in all kinds of ways, as it is with every real-life character, but I also had to make certain choices and decisions about what was going on for him in my version.”

2024 has already been a busy year for Sheen as a few months ago, his directing debut The Way was released on BBC One – to mixed reviews. Reflecting on the project, which was shot in Wales, he said: “It was quite extraordinary to be attacked by Conservative ministers in the press on the day that it came out, and then to have right-wing newspapers having a concerted plan to try and smear it.

"We didn't expect that just before it came out the news would come out from the steelworks. It was a huge shock and obviously affected the way people perceive the story of the drama. It was never intended to be a socio-documentary about what was going on at the steelworks. It was my first time directing something and to be able to tell that story and film it around south Wales with an amazing Welsh cast was such a brilliant experience.”

#Michael Sheen #Nye #theatre #Interview #Good Omens #David Tennant

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ukrfeminism · 1 year

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Which UK city would be the most convenient location for you to meet other rad women? - Update

This was really interesting! I make that roughly 110 women in and around London, 30 in and around Birmingham or Glasgow, and 55 in areas outside of the most populated cities (+Cardiff) in the UK.

It makes sense to me to start with the most popular options, so if you selected London, Glasgow, or Birmingham in the poll, please send me a message and we can start planning meetings near you! Note - meetings are adult only, please don’t get in touch if you’re a minor.

Alternatively, get voting again:

Looking forward to hearing from you all! Just a reminder that I can’t see who’s voted for what, so you’re doubly anonymous.

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oh-contraire · 4 months

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Coming back to fandom

Okay so it's been like 15 years since I've been properly excited about a fandom, so I didn't expect to be sitting here in my 40s, supposedly a serious adult with a real job and a real life (such as it is), having fallen even more deeply in love with Good Omens, a show based on a book that I've loved for over 20 years, a story that's always been there for me, this lovely little comfort read with a life-affirming message, and that has now eaten my entire brain and made it abundantly clear that I'll be stuck right here at least until season 3 comes out and gives me that beautiful everything-is-as-it-should-be cathartic resolution and I can finally rest and go back to real life (ha!)

I certainly didn't expect for this silly show about angels and demons to help me figure out this late in my life that I'm non-binary, to have all those parts of myself that I didn't quite understand suddenly start to make sense. I didn't expect to actually start to really own my queerness - which as a perpetually single person at my age, who's straight-enough-passing to not have to hang it all out there, while simultaneously being lucky enough to exist in a group of friends where queerness is basically the default and you'd almost have to come out as straight (old goths are the best) - is such a powerful experience, and is helping me figure out what the next part of my life will be and what the hell I'm doing around here.

The last time I was in a fandom, I was young (well, compared to now). I had parents who were still alive, who I was close to, and who I could share my excitement with. I've got beautiful memories of travelling from Australia to Europe with my mum in 2008, the last time we'd ever do that, of spending a couple of days of our precious holiday at Cardiff Bay watching the post-hub explosion scene in Torchwood Children of Earth being filmed, of her sneaking away and getting GDL's autograph for me on a random piece of paper, when I was too mortified to even consider it. I'll never watch Family of Blood or Utopia without remembering how I saw it for the first time with my dad, randomly flicking through channels and not really knowing what we were in for, and both of us experiencing that incredible, literally jaw dropping moment when Derek Jacobi was revealed as the Master, how I teasingly called him Father of Mine for years after that because it was such a wonderful shared moment for both of us (and because I was a totally cool and normal grown adult even then).

I never expected to fall straight back in love with Doctor Who after that, 15 years later, having lost both of my parents to awful illnesses, having tried to pretend that life, however fine it all was for the most part, hadn't had this constant undercurrent of existential dread, a horrible sense that from now on it would just be a series of losses, that all the things I loved would just fall away until there was nothing important left, that I could scramble for those little crumbs that felt like renewal or purpose but that ultimately felt hollow in the face of what seemed like an increasingly bleak and relentless world of serious things like work and mortgage payments and obligations and the whole thing of pretending to be a real adult doing Important Things.

I never expected just how healing, how utterly cathartic it would be to see 14 come back after all these years, older, tireder, after experiencing all that loss and grief, and to see them love so deeply, to see them find a new home, a new family, and to finally find a way to be actually, truly happy. I cried so much during that episode, and it felt like actual hope for the first time in years, like it helped to heal some part of myself that thought it would never be properly healed.

I'll never stop being in awe of how stories can do that. These silly little TV shows about angels and demons or time travel and the universe, which are really about humans and life and death and love and everything that's actually important, and which bring to the surface those deep truths that are hard to see among the minutiae of everyday life.

Stories are so powerful, and I'm so happy to feel excited about them again, and to have them weave their way back into the fabric of my life. So, thanks to RTD and @neil-gaiman for helping me find this feeling again, and thanks to fandom for continuing to exist while I figured out that this was one of the big parts that was missing from my life! <3

#good omens #doctor who #fandom #personal #oversharing #getting older #stories #ineffable fandom #fourteenth doctor

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bodypaintsculptures · 8 months

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High Priestess | Chapter 4: Who's That Girl There?

A/N: Hey lovelies!!! I'm back with another chapter! For the context, the story does take place during The Car era, although not all the dates are accurate but I have tried to keep it as close to The Car tour as possible! Hope you enjoy! Please like, comment and lemme know if you would like to be tagged! H x

Synopsis: A down on their luck Welsh band, High Priestess, finally get the big break they were looking for - a supporting spot for one of the UK's biggest successes; the Arctic Monkeys. Was this finally the opportunity they needed to kick start their dream careers of being a successful rock band? Or will a tumultuous relationship between the two lead singers and a secret confession of devotion ultimately be too much to handle for the three best friends from Cardiff?

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: swearing, drug usage, mentions of death, mental health issues and sexual content throughout this fic.

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Alex's phone buzzed from beside him, pulling his attention away from the foreign language film he'd spent the last hour trying to understand. He glanced down to his phone, careful not to disturb the captivated woman cuddled into his chest and grabbed it. Upon holding it up, he saw Jay's name pop up on the screen, displaying a message underneath.

Jay (email received 04/11/22 11:19pm):

Media file attached.

For your guys' enjoyment. High Priestess :)

Alex's body jerked forward at the sight of their name, his hands beginning to tremble with excitement. He didn't bother reading the rest of Jay's email, his eyes focused solely on the media file attached to the email, that already had his heart fluttering in anticipation.

The singer knew that James' assistant has been sent to watch the support act gig tonight and Alex had been eagerly awaiting the email with their performance attached, so much so, that he couldn't even focus on the movie that was flickering away on the screen in front of him. But now that he had it in front of him, he somehow was frozen in time, or at least, that was how he felt.

He so badly wanted this to be everything that he had dreamt it to be.

He wanted to be blown away, to be enthralled, stuck in a trance-like state by it, just as he had been ever since listening to the melodic tone of the singer's voice. But now, doubt had started to creep into his mind; the "what ifs".

What if they weren't as good as he first thought? What if they weren't the right fit? What if the rest of the guys didn't like them? What if he didn't like them after all?

"All okay?" The quiet voice of his girlfriend, Louise, brought him from his trembling trance.

Alex hadn't even realised that he was now leaning forward from his seat until he saw Louise's comfortable slumber being disturbed below him making him mumble a small apology. The woman glanced up at him, giving him a small smile, her eyes growing heavy like his had from watching the film. Although she seemed to be enjoying it more than he had.

"Fine yeah." Alex smiled happily, laying a lazy kiss on his girlfriend's lips. "Jay's just sent the supporting acts gig through."

Louise hummed in response, disinterested in that fact and instead focused her eyes back on the film, settling back in. Before she could do so however, Alex started to move to his feet. "I uh...I'm just gonna go and watch this chéri." He mentioned his phone.

The singer didn't understand why he was so nervously eager to watch the performance. At this point, he'd watched thousands of bands perform, but he had never felt like this about any of them before. Apart from the Strokes, obviously.

Alex could feel an undeniable knot in his stomach forming, as if hundreds of little butterflies were fluttering around. It was making him feel nauseous, his palms were beginning to sweat in heavy anticipation. It was a feeling that had all once been familiar to him, one he had felt the first time he performed all those years ago; the nerves, the anticipation, the excitement. All of which, were now filling him again.

Louise's sigh brought him from his boy-like trance, the woman now laying across the sofa, hugging a pillow to her small frame. She looked up at her boyfriend watching his nervous stance and furrowed her eyebrows. She didn't understand why he look so eager to watch the performance, especially while they were supposed to be watching a film together.

"You don't want to watch the rest?" Her bottom lip pouted in disappointment.

"Uh..." Alex drifted off, avoiding contact with the tired brunette laying in front of him.

"Are you not enjoying this?" Louise asked innocently, with a casual glance to the film that continued to play. She propped herself up on her elbow, awaiting an answer from the singer.

Alex's eyes widened. "No, no I am but..." He lied, waving away her question. "I just, I need to get this done, that's all." The singer held his phone up and shrugged his shoulders.

If he was being honest, he hated the film. The characters and plot were too confusing to follow and having to read subtitles was annoying him. That, and he hadn't really been paying much attention to it either, too preoccupied with waiting. But he didn't really want to tell her that, knowing she would get annoyed. He didn't want to tell her that he would much rather watch something interesting, something he was invested in, like, well like High Priestess.

With a roll of her eyes, Louise huffed. Always in the job. She thought annoyedly but she did understand his passion for it.

She understood when you found that sound that made your spine tingle and hairs stand on edge, you just wanted to bottle it up and keep it safe. Protect it and love it, experience all of its mystical properties.

And the women guessed that that was what Alex had found with this support act or whatever. He had spoken to her about them about a week ago and how beautifully raw their sound was, how it reminded them a lot of the Arctic Monkeys when they had started out. He spoke about how much he was excited to work with them, refine their sound, give them a chance just like they had been given all those years ago. And although Louise was endeared by Alex's excitement over this band, how he would speak about music, his passion, his first love, the reason they fell in love, tonight she just wanted to relax and spend time with her boyfriend away from all of that. Away from his demandingly busy lifestyle.

"Can't you do that tomorrow mon cœur?" She pleaded, her arm outstretching to gently caress him. "It's late."

Alex sighed, knowing he had been busy of late. But he needed to do this. Maybe not straight away like he was eagerly suggesting, but the singer couldn't help but shake the feeling building in his stomach. One that screamed that he needed to listen to them now.

With that determination inside of him, Alex knelt down in front of the brunette with a soft smile on his lip, their hands now interlaced. "I know chéri, but the label wants to know as soon as possible, we need to get it all... y'know." He drifted off lost in thought, or an excuse.

This was something he needed to do and trying to justify an excuse to his tired girlfriend was probably not the best idea. But he just could not shake the feeling of needing to do this, or more so, wanting to. He wanted to lose himself in their music, feel their passion just like his own.

The label, and mostly James, didn't need an answer until at least Monday as the band hadn't officially decided on their supporting acts tour yet. But in Alex's head it had been a done deal the second he had heard the melodic tones of the mysterious lead singers voice. And since then, he had not been able to shake her from his mind, unable to stop humming the song he'd heard just over a week ago. Lost Bloody Mary. The title always made him chuckle but the lyrics still lingered on his tongue, like the taste of a cigarette.

Pressing a kiss to the back of Louise's hand, Alex muttered against it; "I won't be too long, I promise chérie."

Accepting her fate at this point that nothing was going to stop him, Louise agreed. "Okay mon cœur. Just don't be all night, I'll get lonely." She pouted out her bottom lip, knowing fully well that when he usually said that, he'd be locked in that room all night long, writing lyrics, developing sounds, experimenting.

With permission of his love, Alex laid a single soft kiss to her forehead and made his way to his converted studio for his other love; music.

The singer wasted no time in locking himself into his safe space, firing up his laptop and grabbing his headset off the mic stand he'd left them on. He had not done something so hastily unless it was an inspiration that hit him, or a lyric that he needed to note down. Then he became like a man possessed and in that moment that was exactly what he was. Possessed.

Plugging his headset in, Alex covered his awaiting ears, and opened the file. His hands were trembling as he stared at the screen in front of him, dirty finger marks reflecting back off the dimly lit room.

There they were. He smiled, noting the trio of women that stared back at him in a frozen state.

They looked different to what he imagined, better, he thought, but also not what he was expecting. They had this bohemian punkiness to them that he wasn't expecting but nonetheless liked, it was like 70's flares met glam rock. They looked like a band that was well established, not one that struggled to get a label to listen to them, let alone sign them. All that from just staring at a still on the screen made the singer chuckle, but also left him wanting more. He wanted to know them.

However as he went to press play with a bated breath, the buzzing of his phone beside him stole his attention away.

Monkey Bois 🙊

The notification read, making him roll his eyes amusedly.

Yes, boys with an 'I'.

The band's group chat that, Alex would like to note, Jamie had set up. Hence the Bois, part of it.

As he stared at the message starting to come through, he did contemplate ignoring them so he could get to what he really desired. But when he saw the conversation unfolding, he couldn't help but get sucked in.

Helders III (received 04/11/22 11:25pm): yous get jays email?

Yellamo (received 04/11/22 11:27pm): duh. listening party?

Cookie (received 04/11/22 11:27pm): mate, I've got a two kids and a headache I'm going to bed. yous lot can tell me what they're like tomorrow.

Alex chuckled at his friends' shared enthusiasm, easy some of the doubts that had formed in his head. He considered a response to his band mates, getting as far as typing one out but stopped himself, returning the phone to the desk he'd seated himself at.

He needed to focus.

So, discarding his phone that continued to buzz with messages, the singer pressed play and held his breath.

Eyes flickering as the lights strobed of the introduction of the band gave way to a softer lighting, Alex watched the three ladies he had been staring at for the past five minutes making their way onto the stage. He watched on in anticipation, eyed wide open and not willing to blink as the short haired blonde he plugged her guitar in and counted in the rest of the band. A familiar tune kicking in, one he had been humming and whistling all week long. Lost Bloody Mary.

As the beat of the drum filled his headset, Alex's eyes instinctively fluttered shut, listening intently for the sound her had craved so much to fill his ears and after what felt like an eternity, he heard it.

Her voice.

It started off soft, matching the melody of the song's intro before gaining gravitas, becoming more harsher and louder as the song reached its chorus.

Alex ran a hand through his messily fluffed hair as she sang into his ears, filling them with a melodic content that he'd not experienced in a long time. It was beautiful.

A smile crept onto his face as he continued to listen, a smile that was a permanent as the Sheffield tattoo on his arm, one thought on his mind; Where has this band been all my life?

The thought made him chuckle. This was how music was supposed to make you feel, and it was what he was experiencing in that moment.

Song after song played, small thanks and cheering crowds filling his ears as Alex sat and watched the gig unfold in front of his dotting eyes. At some points, Alex found himself tapping his foot against the ground, nodding his head along with each song that passed and even clapping in appreciation just as the crowd did.

His eyes never wandered far from the nameless blonde in the middle, the singer, the enigma. A woman that seemed to enchant the crowd with her harmonies, had Alex captivated just the same. A natural born performer, effortlessly sauntering around the stage; singing, laughing, playing her guitar and interacting with the audience. A bewitching beauty, the likes of the man had never seen before, leaving him breathless as he continued to watch her.

There was a permanent smile tugging on her dark painted lips as she strutted about. He watched how she would always direct her attention to the drummer or the bassist, playing with them like she had known them for years. A fact that had Alex pondering whether they did or not, whether they were like his band, whether they had been friends since they were young. It was then he realised that he didn't know much about the band apart from the obvious; what they were called, what they sang and what they looked like. But he wanted to know more, so much more. More about them but mostly, more about her.

Alex wanted to know her name. The woman that had stolen his attention with the sound of her voice.

"Thank you!" The blonde shouted into the microphone, the permanence of her infectious smile now being illuminated by the spotlight.

"We are High Priestess; a local band from right yer in Cardiff." A few cheers and whistles sounded from the crowd when the blonde said that, leaving Alex enthralled by the subtle Welsh accent of her voice.

The cheer however seemed to provoke a breathless chuckle from the blonde frontwoman and upon doing such a mundane action, Alex felt his heart flutter. The feeling caught him off guard. The simplest and most innocent of actions arousing such a reaction within him, making him shift in his seat, uncomfortably questioning why. He didn't know the answer but it had and the fellow singer didn't know what to make of it.

"Lemme introduce you to our band - we've got CJ on drums!" The blonde shouted and pointed to the dark haired drummer behind her.

Alex watched as the drummer began drumming erratically before throwing her stick up into the arm and catching it with a wink and a smirk. It reminded him of Matt and the way he'd drum, completely absorbed into it but also messing around whenever he got the chance, a thought that made Alex chuckle.

"Viola on bass!" The blonde pointed to the left where an equally as blonde woman waved to the crowd. She was dressed in pastel colours, a sharp contrast to her band mates but that didn't take away from her ability as she played a funky little tune on her bass.

"Our good friend Lawrence Fisher on keyboard." Her voice shouted down the microphone again, this time averting the crowds, and Alex's, attention to the tall tattooed man to the right as he played a sweet melody before taking a bow. Alex noticed that he was tucked a bit further back than the rest of the band, indicating that maybe he wasn't an official member, but nonetheless she'd introduced him with her sweet voice.

For each introduction the crowd cheered and whistled, listening to their solos before the blonde walked back up to the mic, finally giving the one introduction that Alex had found himself craving more than any other. Hers.

"And I'm Niko and this is our cover of Mardy Bum by the Arctic Monkeys." A cheer went up in the crowd, and the unmistakable 'do do do's' of the audience drowned out the sound of the instruments.

It was a feat that Alex had heard many times before when it was him up there playing it but coming from someone else, made him smile giddily, seeing how such a song could transform a crowd no matter who sang it.

"Well now then Mardy Bum... I've seen your frown and it's like looking down the barrel of a gun..."

However, their rendition of his song began to fade into the background as Alex's focused in on the short haired blonde playing the guitar with a smile plastered across those black painted lips of her and the name she had given them, him;

Niko.

The thought of her name crossing his mind had Alex feeling something warm build in the middle his chest, breath quickening ever so slightly in acknowledgement of it.

There was something about her. A sensation inside of him that she provoked, that he just could not budge, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Her name, as unorthodox and curious as it was, was different.

Just like her.

She was like a warm summer's breeze, a breath of fresh air that he didn't know he needed. One that brought goosebumps to his arms.

It was unique but it was that uniqueness that settled in Alex with an ease.

"Remember cuddles in the kitchen, yeah, to get things off the ground..." Niko carried on singing, her eyes squeezed shut as she gripped the mic she sang into. Just like he did.

Losing himself in the music yet again, even if it was his own, Alex listened as it reverberated around him, the sound of her voice making his fascination grow. He found himself intently watching her and every little mannerism she displayed as if it was the last thing he would ever see. The jerk of her shoulder as she'd adjust her guitar, the grip she had on the microphone when she sang, the way her eyes would flutter shut as she held a note, the upturning of her lip when singing a particularly poignant lyric, the way she would entice the crowd with the simple wave of her hand.

Alex could just sit and watch every little quirk of Niko's as she performed and never get tired of it. Unfortunately for him however, with her next words, he knew that he couldn't do that and that made his heart begin to ache.

"We've got one more song to play." Niko spoke into the mic, letting him know the performance was coming to an end. He sighed defeatedly, not wanting it to end, and it seemed as though the crowd didn't want it to either, as boos and applause rang out from the compacted audience, making Niko's smile that had been there all night turn into a pout.

A pout that stuck on his mind just as the final notes of their last song rang out, and the sound of her sweet voice echoed one last time."We've been High Priestess, diolch Cardiff!"

And with that, the picture cut off.

All that now faced the singer was a black screen and a deafening silence that left him wanting more.

But Alex didn't move a muscle, instead he sat rooted to the spot. Too afraid to move, too afraid to burst the bubble that he'd found himself tightly sealed in.

All he could see was his reflection; dumbfounded, smitten with his mouth agape and breathing heavy.

In all his years of being in the music industry, he had never had a reaction like this to a band. Never felt this way about one, and it was a feeling he couldn't quite comprehend.

He was infatuated with them, but especially her.

Niko.

The nameless enigma. Now not so nameless but still so enchanting that even the mention of her name sent a shiver down his spine.

The way she held the crowd in the palm of her hand as she sang, was... spellbinding.

Her confidence was so raw. So captivating that even the most casual of music fans, could fall under her spell, just as Alex had.

Questions swirled fervently in his mind as it began to wander just warmth in his chest grew larger, travelling to his stomach and igniting a burning passion he'd thought he had lost.

Because that was what he felt without her now, lost.

Like a little puppy dog without its mum, a ship without its captain, Alex felt lost without her in his life.

The feeling made the craving to meet her -- them -- even more significant. He wanted to see what she looked like up close, hear her sweet melodic voice tickle at his ears, stare longingly into her eyes. He just wanted to be in her presence, to breathe her in, in her entirety.

Though as sudden as his trance had taken over him, keeping him frozen to the spot, it had been broken by the buzzing of his phone, now audible in the silence of his studio.

In a state of wonderment, Alex let his bug-like eyes wander from the blackened screen to his phone that had not seemed to stop lighting up and with a heavy gulp and trembling hands, he retrieved it to see who it was.

Of course, it was the Monkey Bois, again, and as quickly as his eyes had glanced over the name, Alex was scrolling through the tens of missed messages that were discussing the band they all seemed to be watching at the same time, minus Jamie.

He continued to scroll through their thoughts and opinion, not really paying much attention to them, until he landed on the last message sent by Matt.

Helders III (received 05/11/22 12:15am): Just finished watching... what we thinking?

Alex smirked down at the question his best friend had posed and without so much as a second thought, Alex typed out his response, hitting send.

Al (sent 05/11/22 12:16am): They're the ones.

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Tag List: @alovesreading @indierockgirrl @ophelisposts

#alex turner #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner fanfic #alex turner one shot #alex turner imagine #alex turner angst #alex turner fluff #alex turner smut #alex turner x oc #alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys #arctic monkeys fanfic #jamie cook #matt helders #nick o'malley #the car tour #the car era

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doctorwhocreations · 1 year

Text

You tolerate it.

A/N: hello!! Well it certainly has been a while since I have created any form of fan fic like this! However me and my bestie @whodoyoudo just exploded with idea’s one day and together we have co-written this piece! So please do enjoy! ✨

Warnings: mentions of heart failure, angst! Lots of angst, feeling unwanted, mentions of near death?? I guess? (I think that’s all! I do hope, I am uploading this at 23:48 with very tired eyes so please correct me if I should add more warnings) happy ending, fluffy end 💕

I was sitting underneath the control room of the TARDIS. Knees tucked into the chest, hands completely covering my face as I cry into them. Hiding away in the tiniest nook I could find (and get myself into) of this somewhat secret little compartment of the room.

I knew I couldn't hide forever, like a child avoiding a sibling or parent after an argument. It felt like he hadn't even noticed my absence, I immediately got up once the Doctor retreated to his room. My mind was swimming with thoughts as I packed my bags. "He doesn't care. He is going to ask you to leave, so leave before he has the chance."

My heart hurt in my chest, why did I have to care? Why did I have to fall in love with him? I was an idiot, clearly he would never feel the same.

I knew we still hadn't taken off yet, we were parked not far from Cardiff (the Doctor always seemed to like it there). So I walked out the TARDIS doors and didn't look back… well at least that was the plan, until I heard footsteps and my name being called

in the distance.

"Y/N!!!" A familiar voice echoed.

I kept my back turned. I didn't want him to see me cry, so I wiped my eyes quickly. But the tears just kept coming out.

Words I couldn’t form, only stifled silent cries. So quiet the Doctor didn’t even notice.

What he did notice when he finally entered the room though was all of the bags I had packed to take with me the very first day he asked me to become his companion. (I always hated being called that though, because I always saw him as so much more than just his companion.) Snapping out of his flashback the Doctor asked in a very serious voice, his eyes laid on me.

“What’re you doing?” Raising an eyebrow as all I could do was face away from him, while continuing to now frantically pack. He continued with the questions, “Do you want to leave? Is that why you’re packing?” The Doctor now asks in a more upset manor. Building up some form of courage I finally respond back, “Well.. I can just tell.. you don’t want me to be here anymore” Looking over my shoulder ever so slightly only to look at the Doctor’s converse shoes, the glossy eyes and tears evident on my face as I continue, “Because…why would you?”

Those words cut through the Doctor like a knife. His eyebrows knitting together in complete confusion, he responds “Why wouldn’t I want you to be here?”

I build up enough courage now to finally get my words out. I now fully turn to face him and say “Isn’t it obvious? You never look at me, we haven't had a proper conversation for days! Even when we’re on adventures together, lately it’s like being with a tour guide rather than with-” I paused as I hated to say the word but I say it anyway “...with a companion. You can’t even bare to touch my hand."

My face began to blush, I smiled sadly, "Like I remember how your hand would brush over mine when you taught me how to use the control panel. But now.."

I sighed, "But now you avoid me like you’re allergic to me.. So I thought I best just go, it saved me giving an explanation, since it was, and still is too painful. So I saved you the time, so you wouldn't need to ask me to leave, I got the message crystal clear.”

His eyes now locked with mine, my heart sank. To see him standing there with so much confusion in his eyes like he doesn’t even know But I know he does. I know he just doesn’t like me anymore and he is too polite to admit I’ve overstayed my welcome.

He just stands there and says “What!?” He shakes his head slightly, baffled by what I had just told him. Though I thought it was the reality of what was happening.

The Doctor walks a little closer to me, but not very much.

“I just..can’t believe you would even think that I don’t want to look at you!” He was clearly deflecting having to finally explain his true feelings and the truth. Getting very irritated by him in my mind denying the obvious I loudly erupt with “Oh Doctor just admit it, will you!!” Tears now streaming from my eyes, a snotty tearful and emotional mess standing before him. It was so frustrating that I had to spell it out to him, the so-called ever so intelligent Doctor, he knows everything about everything. Except THIS. “You’re so much older and wiser and I…” I look down as if to be ashamed of myself, for even thinking that he would even like me back, let alone LOVE.. The same way I love him.

“I’m always taking up too much space or time.. So I’ll just go.” I tell him in a stern tone. I frantically continue to pack my things, wiping my nose with my sleeve as I do.

“It's okay, I'd rather know where I stand, then have you keep putting up with me. I know you’ve just been tolerating me.” I say crying a little harder than I wanted too whilst saying that. This is exactly why I wanted to sneak off without confronting the Doctor, I knew I'd be a weepy mess.

The Doctor just stayed frozen still. Tears now forming in his eyes, I am slightly taken back, I had never seen the Doctor like this before. He gently touches my arm to pull me to face him, as things now get heated up with emotion. I look up at him now with the tears still streaming, “You’re wrong. So.. SO wrong. I couldn't bring myself to tell you the truth. About how you can spend the rest of your life with me, but I can’t spend the rest of mine with you. That’s the curse of the Time Lords, Y/N.”

I look at him baffled. “What do you mean, Doctor?”

“You grow old Y/N, you wither and you die! Imagine seeing that happen to someone you…” He paused. Bringing himself to say the words he so desperately tried to suppress.

My heart throbbed, “What Doctor?”

"...Someone you love. Someone I love! I wasn’t looking away from you or avoiding you because I didn't want you around anymore. It's quite the opposite." He ruffled his hair, I had never seen him so open and honest before, I noticed his face turn a rosey shade of pink, "I have been suppressing my feelings for you, failing to stop them from becoming any deeper because I can’t bare to see you hurt because of me.. I can't stand the thought of watching the woman I love wither and perish.”

The Doctor now in floods of tears, he didn’t even expect to be telling you all this. But it had to come out, for he couldn't stand by and watch you leave with those very same bags, of things you brought along on a day with so much happiness. Now reminding the Doctor of that hurt look on your face that has been burnt into his memory.

I stare as one final tear falls down my cheek and crash lands on the tip of the Doctor’s converse. I am speechless, I drop my packed bag and fling my arms round him, holding him close, we stand embraced in silence for a little while.

"I love you too, Doctor." I finally confess, he squeezes me a little tighter.

We finally wiped our tears and sit at the end of the bed together. He placed his hand in mine, the other gently caressing my cheek. "So are you going to stay?"

My heart sings with joy and I can't help but find myself kissing his lips.

I smile playfully, "Does that answer your question, Doctor?"

The Doctor winks at me and with a smirk answers “Yeah, I suppose it does.”Only seconds after the moment of pure bliss shared between me and the doctor, my heart begins to race. A sensation I have never experienced before.

I stop, frozen in the one spot as the sensation continues. The Doctor is in a sudden panic. “Y/N what is it?? What’s wrong!? What’s going on!?”

"Something doesn't feel right, my heart beats.." The Doctor placed my head between his hands and looked me in the eyes. "It's okay, just take deep breaths."

He walked away to grab a stethoscope, he placed it on my chest, he was suddenly very quiet. “Doctor, what is it? You scare me when you go quiet.”

He looks at me with a face I have never seen before. A look of fear that he has never expressed to me. “Well…y-you’re.. You’re going into cardiac arrest."

"WHAT?! Doctor! You're scaring me! Am I dying??" My eyes begin to cloud with tears. "No well.. maybe.."

He rushed over to the control panel and to check the monitor, "Just scanning your antibodies now for any anomalies."

As the scan was completed, "No that can't be possible." The Doctor quickly runs his hands through his hair. Unable to take in what he is seeing on the monitor screen. Images flashed through my mind, I felt slightly out of breath. Sparks began to shoot into the air from my body and a gold mist floated from my mouth. The Doctor quickly kissed me, as the energy surged through my body, it suddenly died down and my heart beat returned back to normal. I felt slightly weak and fell into the Doctor's arms.

"Y/N! Stay with me, are you okay?"

I was in a slight daze, "What.. What just happened?"

The Doctor sits me up not letting go of me until he knows I am fully capable of supporting my body. When he does he gets up and rushes back over to the monitor and begins to unbeknownst to me run a plethora of tests and scans on my body that thankfully the TARDIS can undertake in less than a minute. The Doctor smiled towards the console, "She’s great isn’t she, old girl!”

He turned to me, “I’m just running a few scans and tests, you okay? How’re you feeling?”

I gently rub the side of my head and wait a minute as I slowly regain my vision after it became blurry.

“I-I think I’m alright actually, what’re you running scans and tests for exactly?” I look up at the Doctor with a slightly scrunched up, confused expression. The TARDIS monitor then makes a ding noise. “Ahh! Here we go!” The Doctor quickly exclaimed before he began quickly reading out what it says. His smile drops as a blank yet serious expression crosses his face, he gets out his sonic screwdriver and slowly begins to circle round to scan me.

“Doctor?! Please tell me what is going on!? What just happened to me?!” I half shout out of frustration and fear. Watching as he scans me all over with that bloody annoying screwdriver! The noise only heightens my anxiety.

“Well…” He begins as he holds up the sonic screwdriver to his eye level. “It appears you have just experienced..Something I can’t quite believe to be real. As it is impossible.”

I folded my arms, “Are you quite done yet?”

“Oh sorry,” He lowered his sonic screwdriver and put it back in his jacket, “Your body cells have rejuvenated from spending so much time (he winks at you because of the pun) in the TARDIS.. So basically that means, somehow you’ve become part Galifreyan.”My mouth hung open, “I.. I.. I what?? I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“Neither did I until now.” The Doctor broke into a grin and picked me up into his arms, “You really are something!” At the sudden swiftness of the Doctor lifting me up, spinning me around once into my arms it was as if all my fears and worries just evaporated. I smile and hold onto him like I’d never let go. “So now that I’m part Galifreyan does this mean I can regenerate?” Thinking about it for a split second I quickly answered myself with “Ah yes but only if necessary it would seem.” The doctor cheekily smirks as he places you back on your two feet. “It looks like you get twice as smart too” ;) I playfully shake my head at his remark with a matching cheeky grin.

#doctor who #bbc #doctor who imagines #doctor who imagine #10th doctor #10th doctor imagine #imagines #doctor who creations #doctor who fan show #tardis #bbc doctor who #10th doctor x reader #doctor who x y/n #10th doctor angst #angsty #angsty fic #back to the tardis

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