#Poetry Worth Hearing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

e-m-p-error · 23 days

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MULTIMUSE QUESTIONAIRE

Tagging: @infernalight, @infernal-feminae, @heartsofhell, @questionablemuses, @because-i-simp, @frostworkxfiction, @deepspacevivarium, @hotelbitches, @voxiiferous

RULES: Answer the questions with the Muses that would best fit the answers. Bonus if you give details why. If tagged, copy and paste into a new post – DO NOT REBLOG!

1) Rank your softest Muse and your toughest Muse. (Personality-wise)

My softest muse is definitely Vick. He's a 0 on the toughness scale, he's a big teddy bear and he will choose kindness over anything else at any point.

My toughest muse is probably Barbie. Girl is tough as nails and will not be stopped if she puts her mind to something. She doesn't take pain as a reason to stop and will go harder when it hurts.

2) Which Muse would blow through $1000 quickly?

Valentino, hands down. He spends $1,000 every day easily on things he doesn't even need. He loves to buy expensive things and will do so at all hours. He especially loves spending Vox's money. $1,000 is a drop in the bucket for him and he doesn't even notice spending it.

3) Do any of them have nicknames? Is there a meaning behind them?

Quite a few of them do!

Valentino answers to Bunny from his lovers, it's a subspace trigger word for him. I assigned him Bunny because he's Cute And Horny, aka a rabbit, and a bunny sub is fairly common.

4) Are any of them up-to-speed on the latest trends? Anyone more old school?

Velvette, Vox, and Valentino are obsessed with always being on top of the next new thing.

Alastor hates new things and will fight them as much as he can.

5) Who has the best relationship with their siblings?

Valentino had a fairly good relationship with his siblings when he was alive. He had seven of them, plus three live-in cousins that were like his siblings.

6) Karaoke night! Who is likely to grab the mic first and bust out a tune?

Beelzebub, Ozzie, Valentino, and Ostello! They all love to sing and party, and they're all pretty good at it. Ostello was a pop-jazz singer when he was alive and before he died in Hell, too!

7) Who is least likely to enter a beauty pageant/model?

Gretchen. She doesn't think that she's very pretty, and would just feel embarrassed even going to watch.

Travis. He is constantly told he's very ugly, and he doesn't have a very high opinion of his looks.

8) If your Muses visited a haunted house where actors scare you, who would panic and who would be unfazed?

Chazz, Gretchen, Charlie, Anya, Magpie, Summer, Travis, and Vick would be the easiest to scare!

Valore, Dimas, Cash, Glitz, Stu, Paimon, Alastor, Darío, Niffty, and Vox would be the hardest to phase.

9) Are any of your Muses particular about taking certain modes of transportation?

Vox prefers to be driven around and doesn't like driving himself.

Valentino only likes to drive occasionally and prefers pretty sports cars when he does.

Anya and Darío are motorcycle people.

Emily enjoys bicycles!

10) Share a little-known fact about any Muse.

Adam is actually a very good father and he loves kids and babies. He is very tender with children even if he can be harder on them once they have grown into adults.

#HEADCANONS ➽➽➽#Reciting Violence Like Poetry (α∂αм)#I’ve Found A Rainbow A Rainbow Baby Trust Me I Know Life Is Scary (ємιℓу)#I’m Standing In The Face Of All That My Story Holds In Its Wake (ναℓσяє)#What We Loved Today We’ll Lose Tomorrow But I Won’t Need To Wait For My Share Of Sorrow Because I Always Kill The Things I Love (∂ιмαѕ)#Who Needs Pepsi Juice Or Sprite? If You Do You’re Weak That’s Right (вαявιє)#I’m Gonna Take Their Hearts For Ransom ‘Cause Everybody’s Always Askin’ When You Gonna Show Us Magnum? (¢нαzz)#Money Can’t Buy Happiness But It Can Rent You Paradise (gℓιтz)#We Put Her Down In A Shallow Grave She Wears A Dress Like A Body Bag Everyday (gяєт¢нєи)#Everyone’s A Winner We’re Makin’ Our Fame Bona Fide Hustler Making My Name (ѕтυ)#Try Not To Move So Fast You Know Dessert Comes Last! (вєєℓzєвυв)#You Can Fool Yourself I Promise It Will Help Every Single Day I Just Wanna Hear You Say I’m So Lucky Lucky I’m So Lovely Lovely (¢нαяℓιє)#Define Your Meaning Of War To Me It’s What We Do When We’re Bored (ραιмσи)#If You End Up On My Table Then It Serves You Right (αℓαѕтσя)#Know I’m All Bite No Bark Like To Catch You Way Off Guard (αиуα)#Take Just One Last Dare Pretend That You Don’t Care (ℓєgισи∂αяισ)#Your Magic White Rabbit Your White Room Straight Jacket (мαgριє)#He Ran Into My Knife He Ran Into My Knife Ten Times (иιfту)#I Love You Oh So Madly But I Don’t Stand A Ghost Of A Chance With You (σѕтєℓℓσ)#Come Come Kitty Kitty You’re So Silly Silly Don’t Go Kitty Kitty Play With Me (ѕυммєя)#Don’t Be Goofy Bring Some Passion To The Table (тяανιѕ)#And If You Get In My Face Then You’ll Get A Taste Even God Would Run Son (ναℓєитιиσ)#Hollywood Made A Killing Machine She’s Like A Teenage Slaughter Movie Scene A Serial Killer Celebrity (νєℓνєттє)#Red Eyes In The Digital Paradise (νι¢к)#Let’s Stop Saying “Don’t Quote Me” Because If No One Quotes You You Probably Haven’t Said A Thing Worth Saying (νσχ)

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kittyeekcube · 4 months

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can you hear me?

“can you hear me?” i say, much like the little bird in the little board book who asks “are you my mother?” can you hear me? can you hear me?

i walk up to everyone i’ve ever known and loved. is this any better? can you hear me? they softly mimic many sounds back to me in return but not in a way i can understand, not in a way that makes me feel known and loved.

i wait and i wander aimlessly. can you hear me? i learned to take flight on my own haven’t i? can you hear me? why do i cry? can you hear me?

my love? i’m sure i have one. i think i’m meant to.

can you hear me? can you hear me? can you hear me? can you hear me? can you hear me?

“there isn’t another like me who hears me at the end of my little board book is there?” chirped the kauaʻi ʻōʻō bird hoarsely.

can you hear me?

#a little poem i wrote in ode to the Kauaʻi ʻōʻō #rest softly now little one and may you take flight to a place where your call is returned to you #and for what’s it’s worth i heard your last song and i thought it was lovely #i hope you know how beautiful you were #can you hear me?#my writing #kaia’s thoughts #words #poetry #kauaʻi ʻōʻō

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mortuusrege · 6 months

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wanted

i think a lot of vile things mostly how they hate me how they wish they never met me and they don’t come and go every moment of mine is consumed everything is a another sign that i’m not wanted

i know i’m not okay. i’ve never been important in all my life. i know everyone’s got their own lives and that things come up. but what parts of myself am i meant to keep in? which one of my thoughts are abuse? is it really too much to ask to be treated like i’m important for just one day?

#poetry #how i imagine my death as such a casual affair #did you hear?#oh really it's so sad #how pitiful am i to be begging for all the selfish things?#but i will lay like a dog if only to be important for one day #birthday angst #on not my birthday #feeling important #worth something #unworthiness

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sleestakkk · 1 year

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pleaseeeee i am being very normal

#And the heart is hard to translate It has a language of it's own It talks in tongues and quiet sighs #In prayers and proclamations in the grand deeds Of great men and the smallest of gestures In short shallow gasps #But with all my education I can't seem to command it And the words are all escaping #And coming back all damaged And I would put them back in poetry If I only knew how I can't seem to understand it #And I would give all this and heaven too I would give it all if only for a moment That I could just understand #The meaning of the word you see 'Cause I've been scrawling it forever But it never makes sense to me at all #And it talks to me in tiptoes And sings to me inside It cries out in the darkest night And breaks in the morning light #No words poor language It doesn't deserve such treatment And all my stumbling phrases Never amounted to anything worth this feeling #All this heaven never could describe Such a feeling as I'm hearing Words were never so useful #So I was screaming out a language That I never knew existed before #never been so normal

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everyothermouse · 1 year

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(Possible overstim warning, maybe turn ur volume down.)

I actually have a voice I use for tubberbot things already so I decided to make a lil tubberbot led mini song :3 I don't have the skills to create actual songs for them, but it's nice to hear tubberbot "singing"

[The style is automatic static in the house the attic🤖

They make their bed up in my head they call me metal plastic💠

I build my verses out of sunsets but my beats erratic🌅

The style is automatic static in the house the attic 🤖💠🌅]

#worth noting on the writing: tubberbot can do creative writing but he mostly writes poetry NOT music. he has written 1 rap which showed the #other two immediately that he has no sense of rhythym when it comes to writing things meant to be read/sung outloud.#he does not process the world through sounds or any sense really. he processes through words numbers meaning etc.#so he can write a poem that transcribes his thoughts achieves a specific topic and has meaning but he cant hear rythym in his head so he #pays no mind to it when writing cus hes incapable of reading anything in anything other than a perfectly even pace.#hes good at following commands though so he CAN play music it just has to be taught to him in a way he can process.#you cant ask him to just vibe out a melody. you give him the sheet music or play him the melody and hell copy it exactly #teaching him singing is slightly harder cus of his specific voicebox but he sure can slap that bass #oc #tubberbot #violet laser fight (vilafi)#tomstunes

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stained-glass-salamander · 2 years

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Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

dog farts

call Arzt

pansies snore

outside m' door

time is running fast

night won't ever last

shadows dance with moths

mosquitos tune their cords

midnight strikes the husky clock

machine's munching lost left sock

loud heated cats are making brutal love

perverted stars are peeping from above

and I'm doomed to sit here, tired for sleep I wait

remember kid, don't drink damn coke after pm 8

#poem #my poetry #poems on tumblr #insomnia poems #now this is just a silly little nonsense my caffeinated brain pushed out to pass a bit of time #and I know I'm usually serious here but oh well here we are #as long as it makes you chuckle this sleepless temporary jester is happy #no but seriously there's a moral to this - don't drink anything caffeinated before impending bed time I beg you #yes it's sweet; but is the short lived dopamine spike worth the horror of hearing cats shagging? absolutely not #or is it...#nah just joking - it's not #unless you are from the us then the accesible guns and cheap ammunation are the answer to both of these problems #welp that was too dark - sorry

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poetryismylove · 4 months

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I will never be a second choice nor option. Don’t come running to me now because we both know I’m someone’s first choice out there

Words you’ll never read #289

#quote lifequote #deep quotes #deep thoughts #sad poetry #deep #deep thinking #just a thought #just hear me out #life quote #self love #self worth #self validation #enpowerment #pillow thoughts #self care #self healing

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causalitylinked · 1 year

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TAG DUMP FOR KENSUKE HIBIKI FROM THE CALIGULA EFFECT: OVERDOSE.

┕━ ❛ ❀. muse »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ ʜɪʙɪᴋɪ〡instead of becoming an adult‚ i want to remain a child.

┕━ ❛ ❀. ship »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ x ꜱᴏɴɪᴀ〡i thought poetry was the closest thing one can get to define love... then i saw you.

┕━ ❛ ❀. wardrobe »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡i don’t want to be too eccentric or boring. just my own style.

┕━ ❛ ❀. aesthetics »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡likes.

┕━ ❛ ❀. musings »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡wanting someone to acknowledge me‚ i fabricated a false version of myself.

┕━ ❛ ❀. in character »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡interactions.

┕━ ❛ ❀. music »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡i can see myself humming to this.

┕━ ❛ ❀. go–home club »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡i’m going to return to reality with everyone else.

┕━ ❛ ❀. musician »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡i’ll do as i wish and use my own hands to show you i can change the world.

┕━ ❛ ❀. post tce: o »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡i’m sure i can make it in music if i work hard‚ even if it’s from the sidelines.

┕━ ❛ ❀. code vein »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡i’m not sure if this world is still worth saving but i want to see the future everyone envisions.

┕━ ❛ ❀. the caligula effect 2 »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡i might not have taken center stage yet... but i’m slowly getting there.

┕━ ❛ ❀. danganronpa »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡to think someone like me would have been accepted into such a prestigious school...

┕━ ❛ ❀. more–than–a–princess ( private ) »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡these days i always hear my music playing in stores.

┕━ ❛ ❀. headcanons »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡i don’t know what kind of adult i would be... but i’m going to follow my dreams while i’m still young!

┕━ ❛ ❀. about »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡i didn’t want to believe i was like everyone else.

┕━ ❛ ❀. answered »» ᴋᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ〡wire message received.

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ceravisiae · 1 year

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#i love that tug at life by its leaf hem line #seems like it would be worth it to learn polish to hear how szymborska plays w the language #wislawa szymborska #allegro ma non troppo #poetry

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month

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How’d they act if you called them pretty upon getting catch looking at them…

Dan Heng: blushes. Hard.

He’s not use to someone complimenting his looks as it’s not something he finds important.

‘Are you really that shameless to say such things aloud?’ He’d say while avoiding eye contact with you.

Dan Heng would act as though you just shouted this out loud in front a hoard of people, even though you didn’t.

He’s awkward when it comes to taking compliments aimed his way but his reaction is too fucking cute to ignore and will warrant another compliment his way, which will only serve in making his face brunt redder.

‘Shut up, please.’ He’d plead as he covers a hand over your eyes, feeling as though they’ve stared deeply into his soul and actually see him as a whole person and more. ‘You talk too much about things you don’t understand the first thing of.’

He’s probably going to get teased by March 7th after this and it’ll be used as blackmail, probably.

Give him a moment to breath and calm down before complimenting on how pretty he is because he will combust from how flustered he is.

Argenti: would probably start a compliment war in all honesty because how can you say he’s pretty without admitting that you are also quite a sight for sore eyes.

If you were to compliment his hair, he’d resort back with how even the stars put on their best performance within your presence.

He’s got such a way with words that can easily leave one flustered without even trying. He’d even wax poetry on the spot about how the light catches your eyes in a way similar to that of a kaleidoscope, bright, vibrant and above all breathtaking.

Argenti doesn’t hold back, will not hold back, and will not back down from letting you know just how ethereal you look to him.

He can do this all day, you however could not do this all day seeing how this man has unlimited ammunition when it came to complimenting the beauty of pretty much everything.

(I mean this is the same dude who complimented a plant. 🪴 I bet that plant blushed, we just didn’t see it bc who wouldn’t blush if a chivalrous red head complimented them?)

Welt: smiles softly as a light blush coated his cheeks.

He’s well kept for someone who’s in his 60/70/80’s And he deserves to be told as such!

(all I know is that he’s grandpa age from other ppl)

So when you do compliment him and call him pretty, this old man is going to thank you for such kind words and probably give you head pats as a reward.

He appreciates a kind compliment now and then.

‘Why thank you, I try my best to keep in good shape if I’m meant to keep up with all of you.’ He would say in response followed by a chuckle.

Welt is young at heart and knows that his body isn’t how it once was but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a restless spirit within an old man’s body. So when you compliment him, it only makes him feel good and warm on the inside.

Blade: doesn’t know how to take compliments.

He’s not use to it and doesn’t know how to react to it other than saying something along the lines of;

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘Flattery will get you nowhere.’

Or just straight up. ‘No.’

And all the while his face is like this: 😐 or this 😒

It’s never one or the other, blade just doesn’t view himself worth the compliment, when the only things about him that people see most is that he’s a bad dude in a bad group doing bad things.

He doesn’t see why you’re wasting a kind, genuine compliment on someone whose entire body is riddled in ugly scars.

Blade is the type of person where you’d have to prove that your compliment is genuine or else he just won’t believe it.

Sampo: his ego is boosted to the max.

Well done you’ve made him even more insufferable.

He will smile that Cheshire smile of his and ask to hear what else about him you find appealing besides his pretty face.

You: your exposed hips, you slut-

However behind his cocky persona, he’s a giggly bitch who’s mentally kicking his feet and writing this interaction in his bubblegum pink diary with a glitter pen.

Sampo is deeply invested in what you thought about the rest of him but won’t let it show as he would consider it ‘out of character’ for himself. So he’ll continue to act the cocky and confident fool like he always does.

He’ll be the type to tease you about potentially killing him while internally screaming himself and telling other people that you find him pretty, much to your embarrassment.

‘You see them over there? Yeah they called ol’ Sampo pretty!’ He’d say to a random person while pointing towards you as you try to hide yourself behind a trash can…only for the trash can to grow arms and legs and walk off elsewhere.

Why were the arms and legs buff as fuck? What was their workout routine? You must know. now.

Sunday: takes the compliment in kind.

He looks like the type to get called handsome or pretty on the daily, so it’s nothing new to him but he’ll take the compliment nonetheless.

He’s probably the most calm out of the bunch when being called pretty, besides from maybe Welt.

He’s not bashful, he’s not overtly arrogant and he’s not in denial about it either. He just takes the compliment as it is and goes on about his day like any other.

Though people would take note on how he’s smiling brighter than usual. Your compliment would stay with him the entire day, as it serves as a reminder of his place within your heart and he’s secretly scheming on ways on how to stay within your heart.

Permanently.

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ghostboyjules · 2 years

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rose sage and sky :3c 💖

BEEESSTTIIIEEEE 😫😫😫😭😭😭 🖤💖🖤💖🖤💖🖤💖🖤 gotta find the coolest cave ever next to the coolest field ever... 🤔 Hmmm.. much to find..

#my beloved mutuals ✨#jules.answers✨#jules.askgame✨#I'd have to take so much benadryl after laying in a field. but it'd be worth it...#omg reading cool poetry in a cave just to hear it echo... that sounds badass

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klaineownsmysoul · 4 months

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Sometimes I like to sit and think about how much Arthur Fox would have loved Alex. Loved his charm and his effervescence, his intelligence and his sense of humor. Mostly though, I think he would have loved how fiercely and passionately he loves his son. How he loves and wants the man Henry is and not the prince he was born as - the poetry loving, Austen quoting, witty and thoughtful letter writing man. He'd love the way Alex wants to love Henry out loud. How he isn't ashamed to want to hold his hand in public. He'd love the way he looks at Henry - like his whole world has narrowed down to one person - and how much he hates being separated from him.

He'd love the way Alex gets Henry's snarky sense of humor (and is ok being on the receiving end of said humor) and know that it's a sign of Henry feeling comfortable enough with Alex to let his walls down and let him in. He'd love that Henry has never been or will ever be a notch on his bedpost, NDA or no. He'd love the way Alex fights for him and them and so desperately wants Henry to realize that he's worth it and that his feelings and desires are valid and not something to be pushed down and aside. That he matters. He'd love the way Alex isn't afraid to tell the entire world that he's in love with Henry and that loving him has made his life better. The way that all Alex has to hear is Henry telling him he's not ok and he's dropping anything and everything to fly across an ocean to comfort him and remind him that he is loved and not alone.

He'd love the way Alex has no qualms about standing up to anyone - including the actual King of England - to defend Henry. I have a feeling he'd be tempted to throw hands to anyone who even deigns to look at Henry in a way he dislikes.

He'd love the way Alex's naturally outgoing and extroverted personality deflects and absorbs the spotlight that Henry doesn't want or feel comfortable in - much in the way that his friendship with Pez works.

Conversely, he'd love the way that Henry takes care of Alex. The way he keeps him watered and fed and not subsisting solely on coffee and a reheated piece of pizza every other day or so. How he calms the noise in his head but never makes him feel like he's too much. How he loves the fire and passion that Alex does everything with and always wants to hear what he's thinking. He'd love how perfectly suited they are to each other and he'd be so happy that his sweet Henry has found someone who knows exactly how special he is and loves him for just that reason.

Yeah...so this might have gotten away from me a little bit. I probably should have started with "in this essay I will..." because I am incapable of summing up my feelings in any kind of short and condensed way. I love these characters, this movie, the book, and all the extraordinary fanfic written about them. I'd warn you off me if they ever announce a sequel, but I'm pretty certain my behavior will be no different from the last 5 months.

#red white and royal blue #alex x henry #firstprince #happy 5 months of rwrb to all who celebrate #the brainrot as the kids say is real #these two have captured my heart and made my life immeasurably better

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gucciwins · 8 months

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hi angie :) i was wondering whether you could write a little blurb based off an idea i’ve had recently? so harry and (yn) are a new couple and every time they go out (yn) is super conscious of how she acts and what she’s wearing/doing because they’re in public and harry just wants to calm her down :(( i feel like new boyfriendrry would be so gentle and kind :(

hope you enjoy this 2k blurb, sweets 🤍

Y/N really liked Harry.

He was funny, charming, and intelligent. Harry loved discussing the books she was reading and, to her surprise, would go on to purchase them so he could also share his thoughts with her. They were introduced by a mutual friend, stating they would get on well because of their love for poetry. Y/N wasn’t one for meeting new people–let alone being set up but Dezzie promised she wouldn’t regret it. Harry was told he’d be meeting his perfect match, and Dezzie was not wrong. Y/N had been someone straight out of a storybook with her perfect hair and a laugh that made his heart skip a beat every time he heard it. Harry was absolutely smitten.

They started with one date that turned into three, and soon enough, Y/N and Harry were talking every day, trying their best to work their schedule to fit each other in. One time a week was not enough for either of them. With more dates, there was more time together, and before they knew it had been a month of dating.

It’s not been three months since they met, and they’ve never been happier. Harry feels secure and loved in his relationship. He knows Y/N protects him as he does her. Y/N came in with her heart guarded high, but Harry crumbled her walls too quickly, and she knew she had no chance against him, so she let herself go into this relationship with an open mind and heart. Y/N knew that while Harry shielded their relationship, it wasn’t impossible to stop random fans from taking photos even when Harry asked them not to or to be trailed by paparazzi on a date night. Harry did his best to protect her, and Y/N knew he was doing everything he could. Being a new couple and someone no one knew about, it’s as if everyone was trying to find the skeletons in her closet. They were all waiting for her downfall.

Harry had promised her it would die down, but it seemed overnight there were articles of her everywhere, from the shops to every social media outlet. Y/N didn’t actively look for them. She knew it wasn’t good for her, and family members would send them her way. Old high school friends who still had her number began asking to hang out with her. Her parents sent her the articles because a nosy neighbor would text them. It’s as if no one was watching out for her.

She felt it was her against thousands and felt herself beginning to lose.

Y/N had a bad day, and all she wanted to do was wallow in bed, though she had already planned a date night with Harry. She would hate to cancel on him, so Y/N dragged herself to shower and got ready. While Y/N loved dressing up, the article she got sent today was about how outdated her style was and that it all looked well-loved–which meant worn out. Y/N made a decent income enough to keep a roof over her head and indulge in gifts occasionally, but she was conscious about the clothes she bought. Y/N didn’t support fast fashion; instead, she loved trading clothes with her friends or spending a day at the thrift shops with her grandmother, who always loved a good bargain. Today, all her clothing did not feel good enough, and she decided that her well-loved oversized leather jacket and black flares would do. A simple black top underneath when she got too hot in the restaurant. Y/N was lost in her head that she didn’t hear her doorbell. She broke out of her trance when her phone rang. It was him asking if everything was alright.

It would be now.

Time with Harry always healed Y/N because she knew he was worth it. It was still early days nearing the three months of dating, but Y/N knew she saw a long future with Harry. She opened the door and found him with a bouquet of bluebells. Her absolute favorite, she thanked him with a kiss and told him she’d only be a second.

The drive to their favorite restaurant was quick, the chatter about their day making time go even quicker. Y/N always loved hearing what Harry was up to because their lives were very different. Y/N worked in the publishing industry, where she edited manuscripts daily in an environment she enjoyed while Harry was world-known. He was working on his next album, and with no future tour insight, he was available to spend more time with her. Y/N’s family, specifically her older sister, would ask why Harry doesn’t post her online because, quoting Heather, “if he doesn’t post you, he clearly must not like you.” Y/N would defend Harry to her dying breath. Most of her family didn’t realize how much Harry deserved privacy. Yes, he’s a public figure, but doesn’t owe anyone anything. Harry had told her he would if she wanted him to; honestly, Y/N was fine living in their own world with Harry’s closest friends knowing.

Everything was usually good, with Y/N being in public. She’d order her favorite food, sometimes a burger or pasta. It always filled her up, and she’d take the leftovers for lunch the next day. Y/N never thought anything of it, not even when she was with Harry, but fans of Harry began to take photos of them in restaurants. They criticized her meal choices, how she held her fork and even her posture. It’s as if everything she did was something to laugh at her for. Y/N wasn’t the most confident person growing up, but she learned about self-care and respecting herself over time. Y/N grew to explore her fashion sense, began to speak her mind, and saw life with a brighter outlook. It wasn’t until she had what felt like a million eyes on her that she began questioning her every move. Suddenly, everyone had become someone to be wary of, and she hated thinking like that.

Their waiter greeted them with a smile, showing them to a table. Y/N frowned because their usual waitress, Karla, was out tonight. Harry squeezed her hand in assurance, and Y/N knew it would be fine.

“Uhh–I’ll do an iced water,” she smiled timidly at the waiter, not wanting to order alcohol or soda.

Harry looked at her confused but didn’t question it. When they returned to take their order, Y/N ordered a Caesar salad, stating she had a late lunch at work. Harry ordered her favorite pesto pasta and a plate of tilapia for him. Harry began worrying because he noticed she kept looking around and was fidgety with her hands. She kept slipping the ring she wore on her pinky that Y/N got gifted for her fifteenth birthday on and off. It’s a sign she’s nervous. He hadn’t seen her do that with him since their first date; she excused herself to the restroom before he could ask her.

He sits back in his chair confused, until he sees a quick flash in the corner of his eye.

A camera.

It would be minutes before that made its way online. Harry waved down his waiter, asking him to make their food to-go as quickly as possible. Harry stood up to go to the bathroom, needing to check on Y/N.

“Y/N,” he knocks on the door. He hears the sink, but no reply. Harry tries the next one. “Y/N, sweetheart. It’s me.” The lock of the door turns, and she lets him in. He finds her eyes red, but her mascara looks intact, almost as if she had reapplied it. Harry feels defeated. He knows this hurt is his fault, even if partially. “Oh, my love. I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, brushing off his words, “what are you on about?”

Harry places his hands on her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, trying to comfort them both. “Baby,” he sighs. “Don’t have to pretend with me. I’m supposed to be taking care of you can’t do that if you’re not honest.”

Those words are enough to break her open. Y/N sets forward and falls into his arms. She forgets everything outside, all those people looking at her and judging her because she knew she’d be safe here with Harry. “It’s been a hard day,” she whispers.

“That’s okay,” he assures her. “We’ll go home. Make you a cuppa and eat dinner in bed.”

“But the crumbs,” she mumbles, remembering his dumb rule.

“Fuck it. It was a stupid rule.”

Y/N giggles, and it lightens the tightness in his chest. She’s calming down and feeling better. “I only got a salad,” she pouts.

“Got the pesto for you, silly girl.”

Her eyes lighten up, “you’re perfect, Harry Styles.”

“Only for you.”

Harry gently kisses her lips, knowing she’s still sensitive. Y/N surprises him by replying eagerly, but he slows her down with a slight nip of her bottom lip, and she moans. A simple kiss wasn’t supposed to get this heated. He pulls away and sees her pout on full display instead of giving in like he usually would; he pecks her lips and guides her out of the restroom after slipping her bag on his shoulder.

“My bag looks good on you,” Y/N teases quietly.

Harry smiles at her, “yeah, think I should model for Baggu?”

“Only if they let me take the pictures.”

“No work would get done with your pretty face.”

“What’s that mean?” She looks at him with a sly smile, already knowing his response.

“That you are a pretty distraction.”

Before she can respond, Y/N realizes they’ve made it to the hostess stand, where their food awaits them all packed up. Harry slips out two hundred dollar bills and passes them forward. “Have a good night.” Harry walks them to the car, and she’s thankful no one is outside. He opens the door for her and lets her slip in. Harry sets her bag on her lap and reaches around her to buckle in her seatbelt. Y/N softens at his actions because he’s always been gentle and careful with her from the moment she met him. It’s never changed.

“Harry,” she calls for his name softly.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” she tells him honestly.

“Nothing to thank.” Harry presses a kiss on her cheek. Then, he puts away their food and drives them to his house. Y/N turns in her seat to look at him. He sends her a wink at a red light but keeps his eyes on the road. Y/N rests her hand on top of his, resting on the clutch. Harry feels the butterflies return, and Y/N’s touch makes him feel grounded.

Harry knows what he feels for Y/N is not something he’s ever felt before, which makes him want to protect her even more. His feelings are growing, and it’s why he knows what Y/N is growing through is something they have to deal with together, or he might end up losing her. At the end of the day, he will do whatever is best for her. Even if it means Harry not being in her life anymore.

He ushers her inside from the clothes, telling her to get comfortable while he gets dinner sorted out, but she tugs on his hand to stop him.

“Y-y-ou don’t want to talk?” Y/N asked, confused.

“You sure?”

Y/N knows she needs to stop keeping everything tucked inside. She wants to share how she’s feeling because if anyone would understand, it would be Harry. They walk over to the couch and sit next to each other. If Y/N moved another inch, she’d be in his lap. Y/N can see Harry is itching to pull her into him but is holding back. She appreciates it and does the next best thing: hold his hand tight.

“Being in the eye of the public is something I’m sure no one can prepare for, but right now, it’s all gotten too much. I don’t go online anymore because there always seem to be new photos of me. My phone constantly blows up with texts from people I stopped talking to after secondary school. My family sends me photos of every headline, asking me if they’re true,” Y/N blurts it all out. Harry listens intently as she shares how she only feels comfortable around him and her three friends from university. That support keeps her going, but he knows it will only break her down if she continues to listen to everything around her.

Harry pulls her into his arms, letting himself comfort her, but he knows it’s also for himself. He repeatedly kisses her temple as he whispers he’s got her. “Sometimes even the people we love hurt it. It’s okay to take a step back from them.”

“But they’re my family,” she defends. “I can’t.”

Harry knows it’s hard, but he needs her to understand she’s hurting more because of it. “Listen, sweetheart. We can talk to them together and set boundaries, but what they’re doing is hurting you. I-I can’t take that.”

“What do I change?”

“Nothing, you live normally. You can keep everything online private if you want. You’re allowed to live your life. Not a single person has a say in it. Not even me,” he emphasizes. “Your phone number would be good, though.”

“Was thinking of that,” she confesses. “Do you think the media will die down?”

Harry grins, “Of course. We're such homebodies. They’ll forget we even exist.” He kisses her nose. “Together. We’ll do this together if you want?”

Y/N wants Harry in her life. She never once thought of letting him go. “Together.”

“Good, now give me a kiss.” He pats her ass. “We’ve got food to eat and movies to pick.”

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry angst #harry fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles story #harry story

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inkskinned · 1 year

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something that stuck with me once, way back in middle school when i was still learning how to write - my teacher said "writing shock and tragedy is easy, it's humor that's the hardest."

i have been up and down the halls of academia. i have the fancy degree and the experience in publishing. i think i paved most of my own road with the little bricks of sorrow i had stored inside of me. i know i did it mostly with works that are blisteringly lonely. i know why we write like that. it's lifesaving.

but yeah, i mean. i also know how much people think that "sad" media is the same thing as "good" media. our human desire to connect is so hard-pressed that we immediately latch onto any broken themes. the bullied kids and the tales of inspiration. people keep saying things like "glass onion" and "everything everywhere" weren't actually good. because, you know, they're. happy. or happy-ish. happy enough. and we only value art if it's grimdark-adjacent.

do you know - people still consistently whine at me that my writing would be so good if i just capitalized things. i used to flinch. i get kind of a weird, vindictive little rush these days - i get to say thank you for the comment! i have chronic pain and this is how i conserve my hands so i can write more during the day :) grammar isn't real anyway! and now they're trapped in the room with me, you know? i get to pull out my map and show them how grammar is not the same thing as good writing.

writers have this thing. we scratch at our insides, constantly, prying our lives apart into splinters. prying the splinters apart into atoms. when we combust something into poetry, we control it. it cannot hurt us if it exists outside of us rather than burning a hole through the bottom of our lungs. it's not a wonder to me that so much of what i make comes out like a death gasp. i spent a long time at the bottom. i keep going back, too. when you're down there for so long, the only thing you can exhale is fumes.

but humor is hard. humor needs timing; which i can't promise in a paragraph. i can kind-of force it through careful spacing, but i have no idea how fast you're reading these things. humor needs a somewhat awareness of your audience, when really - anybody could be looking. humor needs us to understand what the joke is, why it's a joke, and to think - ha! that is funny. in tragedy, everyone understands the metaphor of a kicked puppy. in humor, you need to introduce them to the concept of a dog.

and forget about positivity. forget about anything not made for adults explicitly. every time i see a well-made children's media piece, i feel fucking horrible for the creators. most of the time, people see children's media as being sort of "not worth" applause, even though i'm pretty sure they have to work twice as hard. i have no idea how hard it must be to not be able to have your character just say. "well, fuck." something about a message of peace or friendship or caring - for some reason, that makes the media not for adults. like, okay. i'm pretty sure my father actually, out of all of us, could use a good book on how to control his temper and talk about his feelings.

but whatever. i write a short story about my ocd, and how it's fucking killing me. it gets an award. it gets published. i write a short story about my ocd, and how i'm overcoming it, and how my days are getting lighter and starting to flourish. i keep getting ghosted. no response. it just is lacking... something.

is this it, forever? you can be an artist, okay. but the trade off is that the things you make - if they're happy? if they're joyful? people will say it's stupid and pandering. you bite your nails off. you file your teeth. you hear something inside of you breaking.

the other day in a writing group, someone i'd thought of as a friend said: "you write so much better these days! i love what you make when you'd rather be dead."

#i have no idea what this is about #writeblr #i think u might tho. if ur an artist. u might. idk

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