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spideyanakin · 3 years

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Silent Britain - Chapter 5

Tom Holland x Reader

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Summary: You’re pretty new to Hollywood, finally getting a role in a blockbuster Martin Scorsese film, working alongside some of the biggest actors in the game. To your surprise, Tom Holland is playing your love interest in the high-stakes British Gangster film. Eventually, you and Tom become love interests outside the film, but is it too difficult to keep a relationship in all your new found success? Or will you and Tom find your happy ever after?

"Alright, well im going to go-” You choked on your words before wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow”

"It went terribly" You sobbed onto Timothee's pillow as he looked at you with sad eyes, folding his t-shirts and dropping them into his suitcase.

"He hates me."

"Don't say that! I'm telling you, I don't understand his behavior." Timothee shook his head as he thought about what he was going to add to his bag, mixed with why Tom could have possibly been so mad at you. "He really loves you know?" He added as he did a full 180 to grab some of his pants, folding them and putting them on top of his shirts.

"Loved, you mean." You grumbled as you hugged his pillow and wiped the tears from your eyes. "I pushed him away twice and he doesn't want to be pushed away a third time, that's what it is. I brought this on myself. I was a terrible co-star and now karma has it for me."

Timothee looked at you with vague eyes, not knowing what to tell you next. He clapped his hands when he finally got the answer.

"I'm talking to him tomorrow. Let him cool down from whatever happened." He decided.

"What did happen!" You almost screamed and he backed away with a chuckle.

"Calm down Dicaprio in the wolf of wall street."

"That's a specific reference." You folded your eyebrows and looked down at your fingers.

"He's always angry and screaming in this film what do you want." He shrugged before handing you a chocolate bar and taking one for himself.

"Thanks." You grumbled opening the packet, letting the comforting taste bring warmth back to your body.

"Morning." Hardy smiled as he rolled his suitcase towards the taxi waiting area.

Tom grumbled something barely audible as he passed right through Hardy, almost hitting him with his shoulder.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." Hardy laughed towards Tom who ignored Hardy's playful stare and planted himself right next to Timothee Chalamet.

“You alright Tom?” Timothee turned his eyes to him, clearly seeing the frustration in Tom’s eyes.

“Everything’s fine...” He looked away and scanned the line, surprised when you were nowhere to be seen.

“If you’re searching for Y/n she has the later Taxis and the latest plane” Timothee gave Tom a tight smile.

“Oh...” Tom suddenly felt sad as he realized you wouldn’t be on the same flight as him. But angry when he realized Tom Hardy would.

An assistant waltzed towards Tom’s group and handed out the plane tickets, and some further information about the arrival. Every actor took separate cabs, and Tom found himself walking into the plane in a short amount of time - headphones into his ears desperately trying to push away the anger he felt towards Hardy.

He eyed all the seat numbers until his eyes fell on seat number 38. His stomach did a flip when the window seat was occupied by the one and only Tom Hardy - the one person he didn’t want to see.

While Hardy gave Tom and a large smile, Tom looked away and placed his bag on top. Half a plane of business class seats and he had to be paired with the one person he didn't want to see.

Hardy took the cue and looked down at his phone - a little shaken up by Tom’s coldness.

Two hours into the flight and Hardy got his script out. Tom finally removed his headphones to order something from the flight attendant and the other Tom took it as his cue to nudge his shoulder.

“Hey man.”

“Hey.” Tom said a little harsher than he meant - but what do you want to sound like when the person is trying to steal your girl.

“Martin wrote a new scene yesterday and I’m still trying to learn and practice it - he said it will be the first thing we're going to shoot tomorrow do you mind helping?” Tom looked at the script that was standing on Hardy’s lap and then back to his eyes.

“Um sure.” He gave him a tight smile.

“Thanks." he nodded with a charming smile "Here.” He handed Tom his script. “Alright.” Hardy cleared his throat "You ready?"

"Yeah."

“Alright. Here we go" He gave the cue and started his line. "Lilibet this is a warning.” His line entered Tom’s ears as his eyes scanned the page to make sure they were the right words.

“Father - you don’t understand. This is more than just some-”

“No.” Just like in the script the line cut Elizabeth’s line. “This is about family.”

“He's also my family. If you can’t accept it, then he will be my only family” Tom’s heart pounded in his chest when he realized what the next line was.

“But what about us?” Tom felt his blood turn cold. What he had heard last night was rehearsing and nothing else. Hardy wasn’t trying at all to win you over, he was rehearsing the new scene Martin had written.

Tom gulped. “But, I love him-”

“How is he more important than this family?”

“It’s just ‘How is he more important than this?’ not family” Tom looked into Hardy’s eyes and he gave a thankful smile.

“I always get that one wrong.” He shook his head with a smile breaking from his character and Tom handed him an awkward chuckle in return.

‘Well maybe if he hadn't said the line right yesterday, maybe I would have discovered it was indeed just a scene’ Tom thought to himself before coming back to the lines.

“Im asking it again. How is he more important than this.” Hardy repeated and Tom continued.

“D- dad, you don’t understand.” - ‘If only I had stayed to heard this line’ Tom thought and suddenly felt a strike of stupidity flash through him.

“Hardy do you mind if I leave you for a second.” Tom pointed behind him. “I just remembered something I have to tell Timothee.”

“No problem.”

Before he knew it Tom took Helena’s empty seat and started rambling to Timothee about the whole situation.

“Hey calm down Gnomeo.”

“Gnomeo?”

“What? You wanted me to say Romeo?” Tom didn’t know how to answer. “They both die in the end - I don’t think you’d want that.”

“Can we get back to the actual problem?” Tom shook his head at Timothee’s absurd comment.

“Yes. So the fact that you got jealous for no reason. Because you thought that Edward Thomas Hardy CBE was in the way of your relationship with Y/n?”

“He’s a CBE?” Tom stayed frozen for a second.

“Yeah, men! how did you not know that? Aren't you British?”

“I am-” he wanted to say something but shook his head. “That's not the point.” He sighed in frustration. “and yes....” He grumbled.

“Dude he plays her father.”

“I know-”

“He could be her dad in real life.”

“I also know that.”

“He’s married.”

“I know,” Tom whined.

“He has kids.”

“I know.” He melted in his seat in shame. “But- they’re both such great actors and it sounded so real.” He looked away too ashamed to face Timothee's stare “And I’d just read The Princess Diarist.” Tom grumbled and folded his arms.

“Wait there's a book to the films? Oh my god iconic.”

“No not the princess diaries and there’s always been a book about these - the princess Diaaaarriist” Tom looked at Timothee whose eyes were full of confusion. “Carrie Fisher’s memoir. She talks about her affair with Harrison Ford- it got to my head.”

A loud chuckle filled the gap between the two boys and Timothee had to grab the chair in front of him to stop from laughing at Tom’s stupidity.

“You better tell Y/n that you love her, the second we land.”

The tropical air filled your lungs the second you landed. The view was breathtaking and everything was just perfect - apart from the fact that you might had ruined all your chances with Tom.

Great way to set the mood.

You checked into the hotel. Unpacking a few things and washed the flight away with a shower. You threw your clothes into the closet with frustration as you thought of Tom. Your head wasn’t even where it should have been - in the acting. It was far away wondering how in the world could you have been so stupid to push Tom away.

‘Maybe if you had given it a chance. He wouldn’t have been so mad.’ You thought. But that thought was too painful.

You threw on a bathing suit and the first dress your hand landed on and went off to explore Hawaii on your one day ‘off’.

You walked through the hotel garden and found a nice spot on a bench under a few palm trees. You let out a small sigh when you sat down, letting the day flow away from your mind and finally taking a second to focus on the scenes you were filming tomorrow. You thought your peace was going to last until a voice brought you back to reality.

“Hey.” A British accent that was all way too familiar made your eyes open.

“Hey?” You forced a smile as he sat next to you. For a second, there was only the sound of birds chirping and the wind blowing in the palm leaves.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed and you turned your head with a quizzical look. “I shouldn't have ignored you yesterday- That was wrong of me sorry.” He shook his head.

“Is it my fault?” You looked into his eyes. “Because I rejected you so many times? I came to tell you how I really felt yesterday. I came to give you a chance and you pushed me away. I guess I know how you feel now." You let out a sad chuckle

“You- you did?” His eyes went wide.

“Kinda yeah” You played with your fingertips.

“I’m such an idiot.” He folded his eyes and sat back.

“You want me to back up that statement?” You smirked.

“Yeah, yeah no need to rub it in.” He let out a stiff chuckle before looking back at you. “I was more stupid than you think.”

“What did you do now?” All the anger and sadness you felt suddenly melted away when you met his eyes.

“I was looking for you to make a huge love speech and ask you to give me a chance but I overheard you rehearsing with Hardy and I didn’t hear the whole thing and thought he was asking you to be with him instead of me.” He ended his rambling with a sheepish grin and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Tom he’s married.”

“I know” He whined.

“He has kids.”

“I know.”

“You’re such an idiot.” You shook your head with a smile.

“I know.” He looked at you with a small smile. “Forgive me?”

“Yes. I forgive your jealous ass.” You shook your head in disbelief. “Now can we stop making each other cry or scream?” You giggled. “And finally... freaking finally get this to go somewhere.” Tom nodded at your every word.

“Y/n?” You nodded when he called your name. Tom smirk as an idea flashed through his eyes. He got down on his two knees and placed his hands on either side of your hips, looking right into your eyes.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, Tom. I will be your girlfriend.” You chuckled before pressing a kiss to his lips - sparks flying at the contact. Your hand climbed up to Tom’s curls - Tom smiling into the kiss.

“You’re not going to stop it this time?” He chuckled in between kisses.

“Never again” You shook your head. “I’m all yours.”

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#Tom holland #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland x you #tom holland x y/n #Tom Holland imagine #actress reader #Peter parker #Peter Parker x reader #silent britain #Peter Parker x you #Peter paker x y/n #Peter Parker imagine

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floralguccistyles · 4 years

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three: a new hope

My first and only relationship had been during my second year of university. His name was James Trinity, and while at first I had been excited because he had the same name as Captain James Kirk from Star Trek, the novelty wore off very, very quickly.

It wasn’t that James had been a bad boyfriend. On paper, he had checked off all the necessary boxes. He remembered dates, sent me sweet good morning texts, and wasn’t an embarrassing eater that I couldn’t take out to restaurants. The problem with James was that he was so...boring. He always suggested we went out to a movie and then dinner for our dates. And while that was perfectly acceptable while we were starting our relationship out and getting to know each other, it got boring after awhile when that was all he wanted to do.

There was also the flower problem.

When my dad picked up my mom for their very first date, he bought her flowers. When he picked her up for their second date, he bought her flowers. When they got married, he didn’t bring her flowers because she already had her own bouquet, but he had drawn a rose on a note and had one of his groomsmen deliver it to her before the wedding. It was a stupid tradition that in reality I actually should have hated, but my heart stopped every time I thought about a guy bringing me flowers. I wanted someone to pass by a bunch of daisies and think, I’ll get some of these for Petra to brighten her day.

James hadn’t bought my flowers.

I knew it was stupid and if James had been my dream man, my deal breaker wouldn’t have been an absence of flowers. But paired with the fact that all he wanted to do was watch movies and eat, and he had been on his phone when my parents had come to London to meet us for dinner, the lack of flowers were a big deal.

After James, there really hadn’t been anyone that had caught my eye. I was more focused on Alien Crossing, anyway. I didn’t have time for a relationship. The only relationships I needed were with Jeremiah, Veronica, and Melody. Anyone else took a backseat.

Except, of course, my parents.

“We were listening to your podcast, love,” my mother said from the other side of the Skype call, smiling in confusion because technology still freaked her out. My dad was the one that dealt with all the computer and phone problems they had, but given that he was in Bristol to help with construction of a school there, my mum was alone this time to deal with the Skype call. She had already accidentally hung up on me twice while trying to turn the volume up. “The lad you had last time, that Harry fellow. Didn’t you go to school with him?”

My experience with Harry on AC the previous week was odd, to say the least. Realistically, he had done fantastically for his first time on a podcast. He had answered my questions seamlessly and the conversation flowed a lot easier than I thought it would have. I supposed it was because he knew so much about music. And though the scores of big movies were different to the music he created, it will still interesting to hear what he thought of them. I had, regrettably, been sitting on the edge of my seat every time he had answered one of the questions I asked. It was easy to discern why people loved him all around the world. He was charming, charismatic, and knew what he was talking about.

I hated him for it.

“Yeah, I went to school with him. He was the one that bullied me all the time and then became a famous singer.”

“Right, right. His mother sent me an edible arrangement once. I offered it to our neighbor a day later because he husband passed away.”

I felt a little stab of selfish satisfaction when she told me she hadn’t eaten the edible arrangement. I’m sure Harry’s mum was a wonderful enough lady, but she had spawned Satan himself.

I hadn’t spoken to Harry since I had watched him drive away from Outset’s lot at around three in the morning. After recording, he had stuck around to listen to the editing that Jeremiah and I did, which was unnverving but we got through it. Then, he had done that weird handshake-bro-hug thing with Jeremiah and had offered me a polite smile. He probably knew that if he tried to hug me I would have thrown him off Outset’s roof. That smile was the last thing I had seen before he got in his nondescript black sedan and drove away.

“So are you two friends now?” my mother asked. She hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with Harry being on the show. She had called me the day after we recorded and when I had complained, she had reminded me that it probably took a lot of guts and courage for him to apologize. She was a little annoyed I hadn’t accepted and forgiven, but I reminded her that I was a grown woman and could make my own decisions.

“No, Mum. Believe me, Harry Styles and I will never be friends.”

I heard her click her tongue disapprovingly. “Sweetheart, he was very kind to apologize,” she reminded me, “and you shouldn’t hold grudges. It isn’t good for you.”

It was the same argument every time. Harry wasn’t brought up much with my parents, but when he was, it was always the same. Forgive him, Petra, he didn’t mean it. Oh, he was just a kid, Petra. I could probably guess what she was going to say verbatim. It did nothing but piss me off. Did they not care that this was the kid who had me sobbing in my room at two in the morning because I felt like shit about myself and it was his fault?

“He made my life hell, Mum,” I said through clenched teeth.

“He was sixteen years old, sweetie. He didn’t mean what he said. And look at how successful you are now! Obviously he didn’t do any lasting damage.”

I wanted to scream. I had weekly appointments with Doctor Thorne. I was hit with waves of insecurity that debilitated me. I sometimes didn’t even want to go out of my house and deal with people because I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for someone to call me names and make fun of me. Of course, she wouldn’t see the lasting damage he and his friends had done. I hadn’t let her known. But dear god, shouldn’t she have seen that something was still wrong? Did she really not know me?

“I’ve got to go, Mum. I’m meeting with the publisher today for my book.”

“Oh, I’m so excited for it! You’ll tell your father and I when it’s available for pre-order, right? We want to get a hard copy and he’s going to load one onto my Kindle.”

When she said things like that, so vocal in her support for me, it made me think being mad at her was foolish. “Yeah, Mum, I’ll let you know. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, sweetie. Give your father a call when you’re free. He misses you!”

I hung up feeling the way I always did. Confused and tired. Talking to my parents shouldn’t have left me feeling so exhausted, but it always did. It was like I was divided into two different versions of myself: the version I was and the version they wanted me to be. I knew they wanted me to forgive Harry, forgive all my schoolmates that had made me go literally mad. But that wasn’t who I was. I wasn’t quick to forgive. And I hated feeling like I had disappointed them because of it.

While I loved what I did, sometimes I wish I had a normal nine to five. If I had a normal job, I would have to bury thoughts my mother had put in my head and be blissfully distracted until my day was over. And by the time five rolled around, I would probably be over it anyway. Instead, I would sit and stew and work myself up. I picked at my fingernails and decided that I wouldn’t allow myself to focus on it today. Today, I would be blissfully distracted.

I grabbed my purse and changed into some leggings, shoving my feet into my slippers while I locked my door shut behind me. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I needed to get out of the house. Melody was unfortunately at work so I knew contacting her wasn’t an option. I could try Jeremiah or Veronica, but I didn’t want to bother them if they were doing something important. Obviously, my parents were out of the question.

So I found myself at a coffee shop.

I had a habit of carrying around a book with me everywhere I went. I kept one in my purse at all times. The book this time around was The Princess Diarist, or the book Carrie Fisher had written before she died. I had already poured over the pages four times, but the book never got old. Ordering a peppermint coffee, which were still luckily around because it was still early January and the festivities of Christmastime hadn’t completely worn off yet, I sat at one of their tables in the back and flipped through the pages of the book, drinking in the words like a giraffe leaning over to drink from a pond. When I read, I devoured. I was sure I looked a little crazy, sitting there wide-eyed and so invested, but I didn’t care.

“Any good?”

I didn’t hear the question at first. It was only when someone cleared their throat that I jumped a little, looking up from the text to see a man around my age standing next to my table. He had a drink in his hand and was offering it out to me. I eyed him weirdly. “What?”

“The book. Is it any good? Also, this is your coffee. My name’s Peter so they messed up.”

I could only stare at him for a few moments, still enveloped in the world of Carrie Fisher before I processed what was happening. “Oh. Thanks.” I took the coffee from him, our fingers brushing just slightly. Peter was an attractive man. He had dark colored hair that was cut pretty close to his head and a strong, angular jaw. His eyes were the same color as the wood grain on the table I sat at. “You like Star Wars?”

“Is that a trick question?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Top three characters, go.”

If my insistence phased him, he didn’t show it. “C-3PO, Obi-Wan, and Vader. But only Vader from the original three. Anakin’s annoying. You?”

I was impressed by his answer. Really, there was no wrong answer to this question, but it was nice to see he had taken my question seriously. “R2, Leia, and Obi-Wan.” I took a sip of my coffee, savoring the peppermint taste before I sent him a smile. “And yes, the book is good. Might change your perception of Harrison Ford a bit, but it’s nice to read Carrie’s version of events.”

“I’ve been meaning to pick it up, but haven’t gotten the time. I was thinking about just ordering the e-book.”

“You should get the print, if you can. There’s something nostalgic about reading her last memoir in an actual book.” I, ironically, had The Princess Diarist in my Books app on my phone, but I much preferred reading it from the original source.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Before he could say anything else, the barista called his name. “Ah, this must actually be mine.” He went to go collect his coffee and I thought that was the end of it. This stranger had just somewhat made my day better and that was all he was going to do. So, I lowered my eyes to my book again. It wasn’t until I heard the chair across from me scraping against the floor that I realized Peter had come back.

“Mind if I sit?” Peter asked, gesturing to the chair.

“Your admission price is a question. Favorite Star Wars film?”

“Well now, that’s a hard one. Empire Strikes Back, probably.”

I crinkled my nose. “I guess you can sit down.”

“Ouch,” he mentioned, though he was grinning. He lowered himself into the seat and scooted the chair back in. “What’s yours?”

“The original three are the best because of their iconic status, no doubt,” I countered, slipping a bookmark into the page I was on before shutting it. “But the new trilogy is developed so much more. And the plot line is better. So I’d probably go with The Force Awakens.”

“The horror,” he said, clutching his chest and laughing a little. It was a nice laugh, deep and strong. It filled my stomach with butterflies. “But I’ll concede. The Force Awakens is brilliant.” He took a sip of his coffee. “So, what do you do, Petra?”

I was going to ask how he knew what my name was, but as if anticipating his question, he pointed to my name scribbled on the cup. I wanted to laugh. “I run a podcast. And I’m publishing a book soon, once my editor and publisher get their act together.” He laughed again and I swore in that moment I would try to make him laugh at least three more times during our conversation. His laugh was too addictive and sexy to not hear it. “What about you, Peter?”

“I’m afraid I live a much more boring life. I’m an accountant.”

“The horror,” I parroted.

“Believe it or not, I enjoy it a lot. I’m good with numbers.” He took another sip of his coffee. I noticed that his hands could wrap around the entire cup and he still had room to lace his fingers together. I almost swooned. Something about a man’s hands was extremely hot. “Tell me more about this podcast. What do you talk about?”

“Mostly stuff like this,” I answered, gesturing to the book I had set on the corner of the table. “Amongst other nerd things.”

“Would these nerd things include Harry Potter?”

“Naturally.”

“Let me guess,” he said, trailing off for a moment as he gave me a once over. “Hufflepuff?”

“I self-identify as a Hufflepuff, but Pottermore has spoken. I’m a Ravenclaw.”

“Damn. Do I get half a point?”

“I’ll give you the full one, just because you’re speaking the language of my soul. Which is, of course, Harry Potter. You’re definitely a Ravenclaw.”

“Hole in one. Though I self-identify as a Slytherin.”

I smiled. I wanted to ask him more about him self-identifying as a Slytherin, but his phone beeped from his pocket. He wrestled it out of his jacket and stared at it for a moment. “Unfortunately, I have to go. I only get a thirty minute lunch break.”

I felt myself deflate like a balloon. “Oh. Right. Have fun with the rest of your work day.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he stood. “I really enjoyed talking to you, Petra. Would you…” he trailed off, chuckling nervously. “I don’t know. Would you want to hang out some other time?”

I was already sliding my phone across the table. “Put in your number. I’ll text you.”

He grinned and typed in his phone number, thumbs almost too big for the buttons. When he handed it back to me, his contact glared at me like a giant neon sign. “I’ll hopefully hear from you soon, Petra.”

“You will,” I assured, giving him a smile.

“Great,” he said simply, grabbing his coffee. “Bye.” The farewell was spoken sweetly and had the butterflies swarming again. I repeated the sentiment and watched him walk out of the coffee shop door, smile permanently on my face.

I was too excited to even pick up my book.

“Are you wearing your good bra?”

Melody’s question came from the small speaker of my phone. She was propped on my vanity dresser in my room, on the tiny FaceTime screen. She had spreadsheets scattered around her on her kitchen table, and I could hear her roommates playing the telly too loudly. Every five minutes or so, she gritted her teeth and refrained from telling them to go fuck themselves.

I’d only met her two roommates once. There was Cassandra, who was a petite girl who Melody had met in uni. She had been there on a volleyball scholarship, which I didn’t think existed until I met her. She had blonde hair that was pinstraight and was always pulled back into a ponytail. The other was Vera, who had been born in Canada and moved to London with her boyfriend from uni. They were still together as far as I knew. I didn’t like being around Derek, her boyfriend, because he never stopped staring at Melody’s tits. Or my tits. Or any tits that were in his vicinity, besides Vera’s.

Therefore, I could understand her ire.

“I didn’t want to come off as presumptuous,” I answered her question, twisting and turning in my dress to try and see how the material moved. I had already tried three dresses and none of them seemed to be working for me. This one was a short green dress, but you could see my underwear line and all my seamless ones were in the wash.

“It’s not presumptuous to wear a good bra,” Melody argued. I heard the volume of her telly turn up and saw Melody roll her eyes.

“It’s kinda presumptuous. Like I assume I’m going to have sex.”

“I hate to tell you this, Pet, but you probably are going to have sex.”

“Still, I don’t want to look like I was expecting it.”

I stripped off the green dress and stood in my room, clad in only my underwear and bra. I heard Melody tisk in the background, so I assumed my bra was not to her liking. I didn’t care. This bra was comfortable and I liked it. Although it was comfy and had completely molded to fit my boobs (as most good bras did over time), it was still white and lacey, so she couldn’t complain much. My underwear didn’t match, but didn’t white go with everything?

“Try the burgundy one. That one makes your legs look long.” This was a feat, because I had short legs. I reached for the burgundy dress she was talking about and held it up to my body, inspecting it in my vanity mirror. It was decent, I decided. Not too fussy but not too plain. “And for God’s sake, put on a new bra.”

“I’m not putting on a new bra,” I admonished, rolling my eyes as I slipped the burgundy dress over my shoulders. It had short sleeves and ended just past mid-thigh. Once it was on, I decided it was perfect. “Coat or no coat?”

Melody snorted. “I don’t care how hot this guy is, he’s not worth freezing your arse off. It’s January in London. Don’t be a twit.”

She was right, of course. I grabbed a black coat my mum had gotten for me a couple Christmases ago. I slipped on some short black boots and did a little twirl. “What do we think?”

“Better if you changed the bra, but this will do.” At my glare, she chuckled. “You look great. You’re going to know Peter on his ass. I can’t believe you met someone as nerdy and weird as you. It’s just your luck.”

“I don’t always have this luck.” I checked the digital clock I had on the stand next to my bed and decided it was probably time to leave if I wanted to make it there on time. We were meeting at a little Mexican restaurant at six, and it was nearing 5:45. “I’ve got to go, Melody.”

“Good luck babe. You’ve got this.”

“Melody, can you shut up? Vera and I are trying to watch Hollyoaks!”

I saw Melody shut her eyes. I could only guess that she was debating homicide. “If I haven’t killed myself by the time you’re back, call me. I want to hear all about it. I might also stay at your place tonight.”

“You’ve got a key. Come over whenever you want.” I was used to Melody letting herself into my flat, especially when Cassandra and Vera were being annoying.

“Might take you up on that. Have fun tonight. Do everything I wouldn’t do.”

I ended the chat and ordered myself an Uber. I really needed to get a car. Maybe I could bribe Zach to drive me around like he did with Jeremiah. Melody had complained that Peter hadn’t offered to come pick me up for our date, but I didn’t tell her that I preferred it that way. In case there was need for an escape, I wouldn’t have to feel pressured into him driving me back to my flat.

I had been looking forward to this date all week. We had been texting back and forth about various subjects of nerd-ism and then after about three days of texting he had asked me out. I would not admit to jumping around my flat like a loon when he finally did ask me out, but I wouldn’t deny it either. It had been so long since I had been interested in someone that I nearly forgot the protocol for how I was supposed to act on the days leading up to the date, but the conversation had still flown well.

Once my Uber had dropped me off at the restaurant, I texted Peter to let him know I was here. Assuming he was already inside, I pushed open the door to the restaurant and walked to the front.

“Hi. Reservations for Gerber.” The hostess clicked a couple of buttons on the computer and gave me a smile.

“Great. Follow me,” she said. I noticed her name tag said Stephanie. I don’t know why I noticed her name tag first, but I liked to know people’s names. My dad had always instilled in me that I needed to be polite and get the names of everyone I came across, whether it was an employee or boss. It showed respect, he mentioned. And it was true. My dad knew the names of all of his builders and still kept in touch with some of the people he had contracted for.

I followed Stephanie to where Peter was sitting at a booth. He was dressed in a nice navy blue jumper and dark black pants, shiny loafers on his feet. I wondered briefly how much accountants made, but didn’t dare ask. I would simply have to look it up when I got home later.

“Wow,” he said, standing to give me a quick peck on the cheek. He smelled heavenly. “You look amazing.”

“You too,” I responded, giving him a smile as I sat across from him.

“You want some wine?” he asked.

“I’m not a connoisseur by any means, so I’ll trust whatever you get.”

He ordered some fancy bottle of red wine I couldn’t pronounce the name of and Stephanie set off to go retrieve it. “How was your work week?” I asked, grabbing my napkin and setting it in my lap. I’d be damned if I let any food get on my dress. “I’ll have you know I’m very intrigued in accounting now. I know almost nothing about it.”

“Lots of numbers, lots of financial documents, lots of typing. The rest of the week was good. I was looking forward to this.” My heart fluttered a little bit at his confession. “But accounting is boring when you’re comparing it to podcasts. How was your work week? Any cool guests?”

“Work week was great. I don’t record this week’s podcast until tomorrow, so I’ve got tonight free. The guest is Ray Holman, who did the costuming for several series of Doctor Who.”

“That’s exciting.” Stephanie brought back our wine and poured us each a glass. When she asked if we were ready to order, I shook my head. “Couple more minutes, please,” Peter suggested. Stephanie left with a smile.

“Have you been here before? I wonder what’s good.” I opened up my menu and started scanning the entrees they had listed.

“I was going to ask you.”

“This is my first time here.” I looked around the restaurant. It was decorated with varying shades of neon colors. It looked like a festival of some kind. There was a mariachi song playing over the speakers that had a lot of trumpet sounds. It made me want to get up and dance.

“Yeah, but you’d probably still know what’s good,” Peter said. I looked at him in confusion and raised a brow. He furrowed his brows, like he didn’t understand what I wasn’t getting about his statement. “You know… because you’re Mexican.”

Because you’re Mexican.

I was lucky. In England, I hadn’t been made fun of for my race until high school, when Nathan Penrose had gotten tired of me not responding to his other taunts and teases. He told me to go back to Cuba, where people like me belonged. I didn’t let it bother me because I knew Nathan Penrose was a jackass. Plus, he had been in high school at the time. Though it was no excuse, teenage boys were incredibly stupid. Peter, however, was no teenage boy. This was a grown man. Who had just said I would know what to order at a Mexican restaurant because… because I was Mexican.

“I’m Cuban, actually,” I said in a whisper, unable to come up with any other response.

“Aren’t they sort of the same thing?”

I wanted to throw up. I wanted to burst into tears. I wanted to curl up in a ball and bury myself underneath blankets. “No,” I responded, my voice still pathetically quiet. “Cubans are from Cuba.”

“But you grew up in Cuba, right? So you probably know what kind of food is authentic or not.”

“I was born in Cheshire,” I tried to argue, but my mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. I didn’t have time to say anything else when Stephanie was back, notepad in hand and a cheery smile on her face.

“We know what we want?”

“I’ll take whatever he gets. I have to go to the loo.” I couldn’t stand up fast enough. I felt the embarrassment fill my veins, like ice water. My throat was tightening, a sure sign that I was going to start crying. I didn’t want Peter to see me cry. The jackass didn’t deserve it. I wobbled in my heels, teetering as I marched to the bathroom, but I didn’t care if I fell flat on my face. It would still be less embarrassing than what Peter had just asked me.

My tunnel vision for the loo was so severe I almost didn’t hear someone call my name. I didn’t realize anything until a hand suddenly grabbed my wrist. I jerked away, thinking it was Peter and preparing myself to scream at him and admit defeat in front of all the patrons of the restaurant, but the face I saw when I turned was familiar and comforting.

“Petra?” Bailey asked. Her short red hair was pulled into a tiny bun at the base of her skull and her blue eyes were watching me with worry. “Are you okay?”

Numbly, I nodded. And then I sniffled. Bailey’s eyes widened. “Come on,” she said softly, standing from her seat. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” I could only imagine this meant a tear had escaped and my mascara was running. “I’ll be right back, lads.”

It was then that I noticed who she was sitting with. There were two men sitting at the table with her, one of them nodding his head and thinking nothing of Bailey’s weird departure. The other, however, I knew.

“Petra?” Harry asked, eyes widening when he saw the tears on my face. “Are you okay?”

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. I just turned and made a beeline for the loo, feeling Bailey following behind me. I burst into tears fully when the door of the bathroom shut behind me, and Bailey was immediately at my side, brushing my hair away from my face like a mother would to a child.

“Oh, Petra,” she signed out, her gaze pitying. “What happened, love?”

So I told her. I told her about how excited I was to go on a date with Peter, how swimmingly things had gone when we were texting, and then the cold reality that hit me like ice. Her eyes narrowed and hardened as I blubbered through an explanation, my words barely sounding like actual words and more like garbled sounds strung together. Her hands on my shoulders rubbed reassuringly as I buried my face in my hands.

“He’s a prick, Petra. A racist, selfish prick. He doesn’t deserve a second of your time or your tears.” Bailey grabbed some toilet paper from the stall and handed it to me so I could dab my tears away. My makeup was beyond saving, but she grabbed her purse and held out a concealer. “It’ll be too light for you, but it’s there if you want it.”

I didn’t care that Bailey was at least ten shades lighter than me. I sniffled, picked up the concealer, and smeared some underneath my eyes so the mascara tracks disappeared. I looked like a ghost, but I didn’t look like some racist arsehole had just stomped on my heart. I preferred the ghost. “I don’t even want to go back out there.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll take you home. Jeff and Harry won’t mind.”

That brought on the second topic of discussion. “How the hell do you know Harry Styles?”

“I don’t, actually. Jeff and I are family friends though, and he worked with Harry on his record. Jeff just said a friend was in town and asked if he could come to dinner with us.” Bailey raised her finger to blend in a spot of concealer I missed. “But Jeff’s really understanding. He’ll get it if I need to drive you home.”

“I don’t want to ruin your dinner,” I said quietly. “I’m just being stupid.”

“No you aren’t,” Bailey responded vehemently. “He’s being an arse. C’mon love, it’s better than taking an Uber home. Between you and Veronica, I’m sure you’re funding the entire Uber company on your own.”

I managed a small chuckle and tossed the toilet paper in the bin. “How much do I look like Casper the friendly ghost?”

“On a scale of one to ten, an eleven.” But she smiled. “You look fine, love. Let’s head out, yeah? Maybe you, Veronica, and I can have a good old-fashioned slumber party?”

“I’m afraid my front room won’t fit us all.”

Bailey laughed and linked her arm with mine. When we opened the door to the loo, I almost hit someone with it. Standing outside, leaning against the wall, was Harry Styles himself.

“Christ, wear a bell,” I muttered.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He reached out, as if to check me over himself to see if I was alright, but decided better of it. His hands dropped back down to his sides. He probably knew that if he tried to touch me, I’d bite his fingers off like a rabid chihuahua. “What happened?”

“None of your business,” I grumbled angrily.

“But everything’s okay now, yeah?”

I knew he didn’t mean his concern. It wasn’t genuine. He couldn’t give a fuck about my feelings when Nathan Penrose was screaming at me to go back to “where I came from” and he couldn’t give a fuck about me now. “Leave me alone, Harry.”

Bailey and I said goodbye to Jeff, leaving Harry standing outside of the bathroom. I didn’t even look in Peter’s direction as I left the restaurant with Bailey at my side, making sure to slip Stephanie a five before I left. Bailey kept her arm linked through mine, as if she was afraid I was going to fall over if she let go. Oddly enough, I appreciated the support.

Minutes later, I was tucked into Bailey’s small little Volvo and we were on the way back to my flat.

“Do I want to know what’s going on with you and Harry?”

“Too much to explain. I’m surprised Veronica hasn’t mentioned it.”

“She mentioned that you guys grew up together in Holmes Chapel, but didn’t mention much else. There some bad blood there?”

I let out a wry laugh. “You could say that.” We pulled up to my flat and I saw the light on. Must have meant Melody had actually taken my offer. “Looks like Melody’s there.”

“That’s good. Didn’t want you to be alone.” She parked the car and turned to face me. “You’ll be okay, right? I don’t need to stage an intervention?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks Bailey. Veronica’s lucky to have you.”

“Damn right she is,” Bailey laughed. She leaned over to give me a quick hug. “Try not to dwell on what that arsehole said. He’s just insensitive and rude. And the first thing I want you to do when you get inside is delete that prick’s number.”

“Will do. See you later.” I hopped out of her car, wobbling slightly on my heels but gaining my balance pretty quickly. I walked to my front door, digging through my clutch to get my keys and holding them up triumphantly to Bailey. I unlocked my door as her headlights faded away.

Melody was sitting on my couch, her spreadsheets spread around her again. She had her glasses on (which she hardly wore) and her hair was up in a wet ponytail. She must have taken a shower. She looked up when I shut the door behind me and waved. “Thanks for letting me come over. I couldn’t get any of my shit done with Vera and Cassandra blabbering about Hollyoaks in the background. How was…” she trailed off when she saw the expression on my face. “Oh no, Pet. That bad?”

“He said I should know what to order because I’m Mexican and I would know what was authentic.”

“He didn’t.”

I nodded as I flopped down on my loveseat, not wanting to disturb the organization strategy she obviously had going for her spreadsheets. “He did.”

“What a prick! I’m glad you wore the bra you did. He didn’t deserve the good bra.”

“No he did not.” I toed off my boots. “I should have known the second I walked into the restaurant. He didn’t bring flowers.”

To anyone else, this statement might seem weird, but Melody knew what I was talking about. “Someday someone will get you flowers, Pet. You’ll be sick of getting flowers. He’ll buy you a whole florist shop.”

I didn’t believe that for a second, but it was a nice idea. “Whatever. Bailey was there with one of her friends and she drove me back. Speaking of which, Harry Styles was there.”

“And the night gets better and better.”

“Exactly.” I shrugged off my jacket. “I need a shower. I want to wash this night off of me. Will you order some take out? I didn’t actually get a chance to eat.”

“Sure. I’ll surprise you.”

I sent her a half-hearted thanks as I made my way to my bathroom. Tossing my dress on the floor as if casting off the events of the night, I turned the water to boiling. My underwear and bra joined my dress on the floor as I stepped into my shower.

If I stupidly cried a little bit more, I made sure my sobs were quiet. I didn’t need Melody knowing how pathetic I was feeling about this whole experience.

Once I was clean and in some warm pajamas, I walked back out to the living room. In addition to the spreadsheets, Melody now had a box of pizza and paper plates spread out on my coffee table. I reclaimed my spot on my loveseat and thanked her for the plate she offered me. “What’re you working on?” I mumbled through a bite of pizza.

“Shit Trennan was supposed to get done. I’m almost done with it, but I’ll be mad about it for the rest of the week.” She looked up and gave me a small smile. “You want to watch Avatar the Last Airbender?”

“I thought you were working.”

“Eh, I can deal with you watching the telly. You don’t scream at it like Vera and Cassandra. Plus, I know seeing Zuko’s character development always makes you feel better.”

She was right.

“Okay.” I grabbed my Apple TV remote and pulled up my Amazon account, where I had already purchased all three seasons. “Thanks, Melody.”

She didn’t look up from her spreadsheets, but she smiled as I clicked on the first episode.

“Who the fuck is at your door at nine in the morning?” Was what I was woken up to. Melody was standing at my bedroom door, clad in the pajamas she had packed when she left her flat last night. I was bundled in my blankets, head barely poking out above the fleece as I groggily stared at her.

“What?”

“Someone’s knocking on your front door. Woke me up, the prat.”

“It might be Bailey checking on me. She and Veronica wake up weirdly early.” I pushed back my blankets and shivered when the cool London air hit me. Shoving my fuzzy socks on my feet before I dared to put them on the cold wood floor, I stood from my bed and blinked slowly, trying to wake myself up. I had watched the entire first season of Avatar the Last Airbender before both Melody and I decided to call it a night. I had gotten about four texts from Peter before I finally decided to just block his number. I didn’t feel like dealing with him again.

“Tell Bailey that the rest of the human civilization doesn’t wake up at nine on Saturday morning.”

“I’ll be sure to pass the note along.” I padded out to the living room. The knocking seemed to have stopped, but I still looked through the small peephole to make sure whoever it was had left. “There’s no one there anymore.” I didn’t remember ordering anything online, but I could have purchased something for AC while half-asleep one night. It had happened before.

However, when I opened the door, it wasn’t a cardboard box at my doorstep.

It was a pretty bouquet of flowers. There were baby’s breath sprinkled in with pretty dusty rose colored tulips. There was some greenery mixed up with them, but the tulips were the center of attention.

“If those are from Peter, toss them in the fucking garbage.”

I lifted them from my doorstep and kicked the door shut with my foot. I brought them over to my kitchen counter, staring at the beautiful arrangement. There was a small little card attached to a silver bow, wrapped around the vase. My fingers shook as I reached for it.

Petra,

I hope you’re feeling better. These are a thanks and a sorry. Thanks for letting me be on AC and getting to know the world of podcasts. Sorry for everything else.

- Harry

P.S. That Peter guy is a arse. Don’t let him get to you.

“Well, shit,” Melody muttered as she read the note over my shoulder.

Well shit indeed.

#1dff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles ou #ac

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angel-ranger · 4 years

Note

for the cute asks can you do all of them? i saw you do it before but if you cant pick out your favorite ones

you’re in luck, I somehow have nothing to do! ever! (I had some other asks but then I got this one and figured I’d do them all in one).

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

I try to have more cereal than milk but I always end up with more milk than cereal, which is fine ‘cause I like milk.

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

love it!

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

receipts or random scraps of paper.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

milk with two sugars for both.

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

oh, definitely.

6: do you keep plants?

I can barely keep myself, so no.

7: do you name your plants?

my housemate named a plant jessica. I think I’d name one goliath.

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

does making spotify playlists count? (I also do some writing and poetry).

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

yeah!

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

side.

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

ham rolls.

12: what’s your favorite planet?

saturn.

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

I got to see all of my grandparents doing food deliveries. it was really nice.

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

open plan kitchen and living room, maybe a counter to have a little separation? big couch! there will be a nintendo wii! lots of ikea furniture, lmao, and light but not overbearing colours.

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

there's floating water in space!

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?

spaghetti.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

I’d like to dye the rest of it purple but I have been informed that is unwise. maybe blue!

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

fell down some icy stairs once when I was very drunk with my hands full of: my phone, a mcdonald’s, and a coffee, and I didn’t drop a thing! until I got home.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

nope.

20: what’s your favorite eye color?

Hazel? I’m not overly fussed.

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

I… don’t have a favourite bag??

22: are you a morning person?

Sometimes, it depends on how my sleeping pattern is going. I can be.

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

literally do nothing. Just chill out in bed watching films.

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

no.

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

I’ve done a lot of accidental trespassing onto farms #countrysidelyfe.

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

I always buy tan boots.

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

apple.

28: sunrise or sunset?

sunset.

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

ramble.

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

Yes. don’t even have to think very hard.

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

I love socks! possibly my favourite article of clothing. I buy colourful socks, patterned socks white socks, black socks, ankle socks, trainer socks, knee high socks, socks you can’t see. I just love socks.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

there was a bird. in my bathroom. I was not sober in many ways. the trauma lives on.

33: what’s your fave pastry?

sausage rolls.

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

I had one of those monkeys that had velcro on its hands so you could wrap it around your shoulders like a cape. he was called stanley after the cartoon and i still have him.

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

I like them but i rarely use them.

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

right now? the wallows, perhaps.

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

clean. tidy room tidy mind.

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

I don’t like loud chewing or gulping. “well, actually…”. men who can’t take instruction from a woman in charge. leaving doors open.

39: what color do you wear the most?

muted ones, blues, beiges, pinks, some white, grey, and black.

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

I have a star necklace that my mum gave me. It has meaning but I would like to keep that to myself.

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

The Princess Diarist by Carrie Fisher.

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

not really.

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

God, a handful of people from camp, we just lay on some bleachers one night and had a lil gossip session under the stars.

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

Uhhhhh, most times.

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

I’ll have to give that question a good old punder as I have too many.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

chewy yoghurt! no!

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

the weeping angels from doctor who and the dark. I’m still scared of the dark.

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

I love buying records! the last one I actually bought for myself was either fleetwood mac or kacey musgraves, I can’t remember.

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

I means, I collect coins and pop vinyls but they’re not really odd.

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

my best friend: ‘last resort’ by papa roach.

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

the gossip girl meme, hands down.

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

yes. no. no.yes; great. idk. idk. eh.

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

My gramps earlier today.

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

you’re going to have to be more specific. I do a lot of dramatic things.

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

laughter, any odd quirks, rambling, how they talk about things they love, how they take their tea/coffee, reasons for things they hate.

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

felt like i went on a journey, as always. who doesn’t dramatically reenact the lyrics? either you’re that scene from wayne’s world or you’re doing it wrong.

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? Why?

I’m the vodka aunt. in fact we’re all vodka aunts, it’s a mess. help.

59: what’s your favorite myth?

any one of the mabinogi, to be honest. branwen and blodeuwedd are classics, though.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

I like it but i don’t read it much.

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

I got my gramps, who does some birdwatching, a mug with fake bird poop on it.

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

Not really, but if I did it would either be orange or apple and mango.

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

I put my books in size order and then alphabetise my music by last names.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

pretty grey, though some blue is peeking through.

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

bitch we’re in lockdown, of course.

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

thorny.

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

melancholic.

68: what’s winter like where you live?

cold and wet, sometimes there’s snow.

69: what are your favorite board games?

monopoly and articulate.

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

no, but I would like to!

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

breakfast tea or peach iced tea.

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

yup.

73: what are some of your worst habits?

leaving things until the last minute. being judgmental. eating and drinking junk. not listening. my stubbornness and need to be right. not doing the things i enjoy. giving up if i don’t get it right on the first try.

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

they’re a good person at heart, we have gone through so many arguments and friendship break ups and distance but we’ve since grown up and always make time for each other, even if it’s just going for a drive. we actually have good chats about everything and nothing and have a healthy respect for each other, but we;re not afraid to call out bad behaviour in each other.

75: tell us about your pets!

big ball of energy! he’s a greedy guts who stole my pizza three weeks ago and i’m not over it! he’s fifteen and a half but you’d think he was younger and he’s one of my best friends and i love him. hims stinky though.

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

If the circumstances were normal i’d be starting my summer job right about now.

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

to drink? yellow. to write about? pink. iykyk.

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

no club.

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

I loathe to think about them but my old flatmates had decorated our flat with a bunch of bunting and balloons and surprised me on my birthday two years ago.

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

blue. yes. I like blue.

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

ice glacier.

82: are/were you good in school?

I was good in school. I am now struggling to even be mediocre.

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

You ruined new york city for me by fletcher, dirty computer by janelle monae, and melodrama by lorde.

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

i’m planning on getting a giraffe and a spider-gwen themed one.

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

yeah! I like most spider-man variations (miles and gwen’s being favourites), fantastic four, wonder woman, and more recently captain marvel.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

I love dirty computer (shoutout again to janelle’s artistry).

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

power rangers 2017.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

I like surrealism and photorealism, and perhaps some fauvism.

89: are you close to your parents?

I’m close with my mum.

90: talk about one of your favorite cities.

i have a favourite memory attached to paris. my friend and I had taken a mini roadtrip and on our way back we accidentally ended up in paris? (we were trying to avoid it because of emissions laws) we didn’t realise until we saw the eiffel tower lit up in the distance so we decided to ride it out and put paris by the chainsmokers on. lmao. so by association its now one of my favourite cities.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

Hahahahahahaha. florida next year.

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

depends on the pasta, I am both.

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

either straightened or in a low bun with some bangs.

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

my oldest sister.

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

nothing.

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

procrastinate them a lot. like, a lot a lot.

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

intj, taurus, all of them at this point (gryffinclaw)

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

no idea.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

hypersonic missiles by sam fender, strangers by fletcher, promises by naomi scott, hello my loneliness by delaney jane, cry baby by the neighbourhood.

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? Why?

time doesn’t exist.

#someone has been infected with cat #also nearly pulled a ness and forgot about this #lmao

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