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harrieatthemet · 2 years

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Sandalwood

in which you have an affliction for candles and Harry hears wedding bells.

“Y’gonna burn the whole house down.”

When you groan in response, taking the pillow behind your head and pretending to smother his face in your lap, he digresses. Or maybe you were so quick to give up because he started pinching the dips of your waist with the tips of his fingers - you can never last long when he does that.

“It’s two candles,” you tsk sarcastically, “hopefully we can survive that.”

He’s watching you through heavy eyelids, zealously gawking at how good the poorly lit candlelight is at capturing all the best features of your face. It’s likely what’s gotten the scent of Jo Malone sandalwood to grow on him so rapidly.

There's an almost surreal sense of tranquility completely swallowing the room; the rain tapping the living room windows, the ever-so-faint purrs of the cat at the bottom of the couch. There’s no lights on aside from the black and white film on the TV and the five wick candle on the coffee table, just a few feet away. And he’s back home now, finally, head in your lap while your fingers brutishly comb through the front pieces of his hair.

“Smells like,” and he puts a goofy emphasis on his sniffing to lull a giggle out of you, “smells like a Sephora in ‘ere.”

Maybe it's you who brings that sober, pastoral element. He never felt like this back in the boisterous environment of New York, and he had lit plenty of candles in the confines of Madison Square Garden and hotel suites. There seems to be a quality to you, or a certain component to your presence, that brought him to this particular abyss. It almost feels dreamy- kind of like he’s floating. And it’s certainly a state of mind he wants to say in forever.

“Y’missed me?” he asks, eyes rolling upwards so he can look at you from below, “while I was gone, missed ‘avin me around?”

When you look down, it’s almost in complete bewilder. Your hand keeps moving through his mane, tousling with it and giving it an innocent tug- as if you were reprimanding him for such a ridiculous question. He mewls a joking ‘ow’ before you roll your eyes at him. Maybe it was silly, but he missed you, and he made sure to tell you everyday as much as he possibly could. And he wanted to affirm you felt just the same.

“Of course I did,” there goes that candlelight again, accentuating your smile even from this ungodly angle he’s gazing from, “I wanna be around you alllllll the time.”

The clinginess in him absolutely drowns in that response, basking in that concept and compartmentalizing it for safekeeping. The idea of being around you all the time, all day in every place, it’s truly a thought he could savor eternally. And what an all consuming thought it was, as it’s now glued to his frontal lobe and aching in his chest.

You’ve probably already gone and forgotten about it. Now your heads leaned back on a few propped up pillows, eyes glued to the TV so you don’t miss your favorite part of the movie. One hand of yours is still lost in his hair, the other resting flatly atop his chest. Your engrossed in the television, but he’s engrossed with you.

You, and the thought of a ring on your finger. A big one, so big that all your friends were ridden with envy and consumed with jealousy. Strangers would stop you on the street and others would stare in awe from afar. You in a wedding gown, oh, the thought is almost too much. White from head to toe, like a virgin, even though he’s very very sure you’re far from it. He likes the way Mrs. Styles sounds, and he’s looping it so much on a highlight reel in his mind he can almost physically hear it.

His eyes are fully glued to you- have been for the better part on an hour by now. Just admiring what’s in front of him; the idea of never being away from you, having you forever and after that, exchanging vows and listening to his kids call you mummy. He’s so wrapped up in idealizations that he doesn’t care you've caught him gawking.

His stomach flutters when you cup his face, scrunching your nose at him, “What's got you all starey?”

“You,” he mewls, “I wanna marry y’right now.”

He frowns when you laugh, like you don’t believe how deadly serious he is and how that wasn’t some sort of delirious joke. Your hands are still cupping his face, the pad of your thumb rubbing circles on the apple of his cheek. You’re literally making his case right now, in front of your cat and that overbearing sandalwood candle. His frown lines deepens and that’s when your post-chuckle grimace evaporates, so now he knows you’re finally starting to catch on.

“Harry you’re being-”

But he’s quick to interject, “hope y’wanted to finish that with serious, ‘cos I am.”

“I know you are” you soft laugh, like you’re encouraging him to think logically, “but we should talk about this a little more, right?”

To him, it sounds like you don’t truly need heaps of convincing and begging. A little coaxing seemed like it’d be enough to get the job done. This wasn’t an impulsive or spontaneous decision, this is a commitment he wants to make as soon as possible. Not that he would abandon that next step if need be, because the convincing and begging was plan B. He was certainly not beneath that.

“Y’love me?” and now he’s sat upright, his hands on your now crossed legs as he leans his face in closer to yours.

“Very much,” you smile, “Yes, I love you.”

“Ok!,” he exclaims, “Nothin’ t’talk about then. Can pack a bag, drive t’Vegas and we-”

“You just got home from New York,” you chuckle, brushing a freelancing strand of hair from his face, “don’t you wanna relax? Just.. I dunno.. hang for a bit? Do nothing?”

Honestly, as he sits there and innocently mocks you while he pretends to rack his brain, he can't think of a better way to spend his newfound free time. Even in playful spirits, he can't drum up a better way to commence his return home. He wants this, you, always. And he wants it right now.

But he’s nervous you’re being too rash, too logic and too ‘adult’. He doesn’t wanna be argued off the ledge right now, he really just wants to jump head first. He wishes, and God is he hoping, that for once you’d just take a deep breath and take the plunge with him. If you reasoned him out of this he’s sure it’d be enough to make him cry.

His eyes are frantically studying the expression on your face, waiting for it to emit some kind of clue for him to catch on to what you’re thinking.

“Well what would I wear?”

“(Y/N),” and he’s practically leaping off the couch in excitement, “Anything! Jeans, that white linen set y’just got. Y’fucking orange pajama pants y’still wear that’re from wha’, like, 2011? Anything y’want, anything.”

He swears he might start jumping up and down like a little kid, his whole body is just that electrified at the fact you haven’t shut him down yet. And when you stand up, he definitely has to swallow that squeal of excitement cooking in his throat. All he needs is to hear you say it; just agree with him so he can go absolutely bananas and go grab one of the bags he hasn’t unpacked yet.

“Ok,” you exhale, the corner of your mouth starting to pull a grin, “let’s get married.”

And now he’s squealing, wrapping his arms at your waist to give you a proper twirl before he’s hounding you with peppery kisses over every inch of your face he can get to.

“But I’m not wearing those orange pajamas,” you insist, “they have a huge hole in the crotch”

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finexbright · 2 years

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night two is done and i'm heading back home tomorrow (hey @ harry styles you should drop the late night talking mv) and i just wanted to do a highlight reel of everything that happened :

- harry is so so beautiful. none of the photos or videos do him justice. he is also extremely white which just hit me when i saw him live hghfj

- he is tiny too and he pinks up so easily i want to make him blush all the time

- watching him perform his songs and having us yell the lyrics so loud that he couldn't sing and just had to stop to take it all in made me realise how humble he is. i want to say insecure too but that's okay. despite being a chart topper i don't think he realises the magnitude of love he gets from us. he's never too cocky. if you've seen him perform then you know just how different harry styles™ is from H.

- i also noticed that he knows what lyrics are fan favourites and while sometimes he puts the mic towards the audience, other times he lowers his own voice during those parts to let us be as loud as we want. he's too cute for his own good.

- harry is a brilliant and enigmatic performer. even in a venue as huge as wembley he somehow managed to make everyone feel like he was singing just for them. i was in rear pitch one night and seats in the section next to the stage the other night and both times i was thoroughly captivated by him. he's too charming

- he's human. he's so young and i think people sometimes forget that because of the hand he's been dealt but my heart breaks to think about the incredible pressure he was put on at such a young age

- he's also a whore and a self aware one at that. he thoroughly enjoys performing to the point where i think he forgets has an audience and i love that for him.

#i do have more thoughts but later #harry styles #my show : london #soni rambles

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no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist · 5 months

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favourite book to movie adaptation since you don't usually like those and i feel like you'll have a very interesting response

Hm ok. So honestly I have not really been in any book fandoms that have gotten adaptations while I was in the fandom for them other than Shadow and Bone so I'm going to go into hypotheticals here for fun and not actually answer the question. (Technically I was in the Harry Potter fandom when Fantastic Beasts came out but we don't talk about that, and I automatically consider anything Harry Potter related horrible anyway.)

Iron Widow. I don't think production on the movie has actually started yet, but I think that the story has the right format and structure to be translated into a movie if that makes sense. It's very central around the main protagonist while also having really great side characters, and from what I remember of the plot, I don't think it will have to be altered significantly for a movie adaptation. I also have a lot of faith that the author will call out people if they fuck up because they've literally done that to their publishing company.

Shadowhunters. I am not in that fandom, but I read the first couple Shadowhunters books for some ungodly reason. I know a lot of people like it, and I hope those people have fun liking it. I personally do not. However I did have a lot of fun reading it and not liking it. And then I made my friend watch the movie with me. So I enjoy the Shadowhunters movie because I associate it with my friend who lives far away from me who I don't get to see often.

Percy Jackson. Like Iron Widow, the tv show isn't out yet, but I think that it will adapt really well to a tv show, and I think Rick Riordan would call them out if they fucked something up. I don't have quite the same degree of confidence in him as I have in Xiran Jay Zhao at all, but I think if it was something really major he's demonstrated that he would say something I think. But yeah from everything I've seen it looks like it's going to be really good.

KOTLC. I don't know if there's been any news on the movie? I think there was supposed to be a movie at some point? Idk. I was only in that fandom for a year, and I get very weird vibes from a lot of different things in those books but. I think that it could translate pretty well into a movie or tv show if you streamlined the plot a bit. And honestly I don't think you would lose much from doing that? From what I remember about those books, a Shadow and Bone style adaptation might actually work pretty well since it was basically a highlight reel of a lot of the most important parts in the wrong order and out of context, and I don't think that would be counter to the appeal of KOTLC since there's way too much to realistically be adapted and the same kinds of things are pretty consistently happening throughout all of the books from what I remember.

Heartstopper. I have not actually read Heartstopper and I'm not sure if/when I will, but from my understanding, the adaptation seems to be very true to the vibes and messages of the book which is cool yay.

Opinion to come on THG because I'm going to reread and rewatch the books and movies over break hopefully

#you can tell i'm procrastinating from how long that response is :)#thanks for the ask!#even though i didn't actually answer the question #hopefully that was somewhat coherrent #i need to actually watch the film adaptations of a bunch of books i've read in the past i think

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eitmonline · 1 year

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EITM Playlist 4/21/23

Soul Asylum - Somebody To Shove | 6:10

RAYE, Coi Leray - Flip A Switch. (Remix) | 6:30

MEG MYERS ft. Nicole Perretti - SOPHIA <144> | 6:35

Killer Mike, EL-P ft. thankugoodsir - Don’t Let The Devil | 7:07

Lil Jon, E-40 & P-LO ft. DaBoii - What We On | 7:37

blink-182 - Aliens Exist | 7:45

Kim Petras, Nicki Minaj - Alone | 7:50

The Chainsmokers & 347Aidan - Up & Down | 8:20

Jack Kays - Highlight Reel | 8:50

The Weeknd, Future - Double Fantasy | 9:19

Skrillex - Scary Monsters And Nice Sprites | 9:32

Hypaton, David Guetta ft. La Bouche - Be My Lover [2023 Mix] | 9:40

AJR - The Dumb Song | 10:12

WWE - Bad Boy | 10:34

Harry Styles - Satellite | 10:49

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sexstories-101 · 2 years

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10 Women Share Their Brutally Honest Opinions on Dog Fashion

Doggy style can be contentious when it comes to favorite positions. Some people enjoy the intensity, deep pleasure, and animalistic sensation of being grabbed from behind. Others avoid eye contact because the penetration angle is too intense.

That's also why doggie may be a favorite of some partners while being avoided by others. It will feel different depending on who you're with, just like any other position, and some people find that the deep angle obtained in doggy is exactly fine with some partners and much too much with others. There is someone unsure for every person who says, "I love doggy style" - some studies place it as one of the most popular sex positions.

According to Angela Skurtu, a professional sex therapist and president of St. Louis Marriage Therapy, the challenge is to discover the appropriate doggie style that vibes for both of you. Skurtu suggests using a mirror to keep eye contact or taking some time to gaze over your shoulder if you lack intimacy. You can also try with varying speeds and depths – doggie style doesn't always mean "push as hard as possible," and some people like long, languid strokes over forceful, heavy ones. You might also want to touch your clit or have your lover touch it and try thrusting while your partner explores the rest of your body with their hands and tongue.

Bottom line: There is no such thing as a "doggy style," and the best way to understand what you prefer is to experiment with various ways and see what works.

1. It's Exhausting

"Doggy fashion can be passionate, which is both good and unpleasant." I enjoy it when I’m in the mood for nasty, sweaty, hair-pulling sex. I enjoy it when it is a little aggressive. That being said, I must be in the correct mood and will return to missionary if I want something a little more emotionally intimate." — Jess, 30

2. It Has a Pornographic Feeling

"It's my personal favorite." It's fantastic. However, never the #1 position. I need some more romantic motions before we get into doggie — guys, take your time! But then there's doggie, which makes me feel like I'm in a porno or something." — Sarah, 28

3. It Can Be Perplexing

"I enjoy it when I'm feeling wild, but I don't appreciate guys who finish that way." It simply isn't personal enough. It's also strange not being able to see what's going on. "Are you finished?" — Lizzie (26),

4. It Isn't Effective for My Body

"I have a tilted uterus, and I suppose that's why it feels strange to me." Not painful, but often uncomfortable.” — Katherine (32),

5. Amazing Sensations "It's as deep as it gets." I can play with myself, or if he's really thrusting hard, my boyfriend's balls will touch my clit and it will seem unreal. We don't do it every time we have sex, but we do it very frequently." "When I've been with partners who are extremely huge, it's just been too much to let them go at it." — Harri, 24

6. It's Amazing When I'm In Control But it's very sexy when they hold still and I control it." — Hannah (24),

7. "With my current partner, it feels great—I'm not sure if he's hitting my G-spot or simply an angle that I really appreciate, and it's a nice way to get him to finish because he's less sensitive down there." My previous lover was tall, and the height disparity made it nearly impossible — we tried using pillows beneath my knees, but it was always uncomfortable and not worth the hassle of adjusting all the time." — Melissa, 33

8. "I don't like starting off in doggie because you can't see your partner, but once you get used to it, I think it's the most sensuous position there is." — Emily, 28

9. A Mirror Is Everything Oh my goodness! I enjoyed seeing how my body reacted and watching him thrust inside me. I was so taken by the visual hints. We finished with missionary, but doggie style is now in my highlight reel only for the visual effect." — Rebecca (32),

10. "When I was younger, I didn't enjoy doggie because it felt too animalistic." But that's why I like it so much now. I enjoy being as loud and intense as possible when I'm with someone I trust. I enjoy rotating my hips, making noises, and immersing myself in the experience of letting go and letting my body do its thing." — Stef, 34

If you are looking for motivation to enhance your sexual drive. Kindly visit https://porno19.com/ a Vietnam porn website about doggy-style movies.

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shit-talk-turner · 2 years

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Okay i don’t know if its strange but something kinda strange happened to me. You know how instagram does show you your highlights between reels and say “create a reel from your highlights” and puts a song into the background??? To be honest i’ve never heard the song before so i was curious bc it sounded pretty good (shame on me) and as i pressed the “create button” it turns out its Louise love corail song. I don’t know how that works - if its just instagram or if its because I’ve looked her up on instagram or if its bc she’s doing ads on instagram but i thought it was strange because the last few “create a reel thing” had always “the same as it was” from harry styles in the background so idk.

that is weeeeeeird

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years

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Mon 15 March ‘21

FIRST TIME GRAMMY AWARD WINNING ARTIST HARRY STYLES!! From the bottom of the stairs to the top of the fucking world baby, get itttt!! He won Best Pop Solo Performance for smash hit Watermelon Sugar-- the other two categories he was up for went to others but he was a dark horse for any of them so getting one is awesome! Yeah the grammys are shit but I’m so happy for him to see him receiving validation and acclaim from the industry that has never appreciated what he (and his bandmates) are and can do as artists, it’s a fucking start you know? We can enjoy the moment! Harry did! His acceptance speech was short and it feels like he was blindsided and forgot everything (including not to swear on TV and as pro as he is you know that means he was absolutely reeling, I love that) but later he said “I want to thank my fans for giving me an environment to be free to make the music that I want to make and supporting me along the way the last ten years”, yes that’s right we have helped you find a place to feel good, and “this is an incredibly sweet icing on the cake of what I get to do everyday so thank you.”

But that’s not all! He also performed, and wore things! Say what you want about Harry (or better yet please DON’T at least to me but that’s a losing battle) we always get so hyped up about even just seeing his outfits and he does not let us down! BLACK LEATHER, TITS FULLY OUT, DICK BANANA CHARM, AND A MUPPET BOA? Yeah he did that! Shirtless under a patent leather suit, I mean: wow. Very glam rock, very… well listen it’s just very GAY in like so many different ways??? Harry Lambert said they wanted “something darker, sexier, and more unexpected” which is definitely about that look I’m assuming and not the pastel thrift store rummage bin hodgepodge he wore later, unless Harry(s) and I have very different ways of interpreting “darker”. (Harry L also said “free the nipple” and we can all see that he MEANT it.) Harry red carpet-ed and accepted his award in a lavender muppet boa, tits slightly less out but still cleavagey, and with a seemingly random collection of other garments YES BABY OKAY you just WEAR THAT THEN! About that Harry L said, “we wanted to do something that felt British and eccentric, a little bit rock ‘n’ roll and a little bit camp,” but the people have spoken and they said ‘we think he looked like Cher from Clueless’ so, sorry Harry(s)! Esquire struggling to describe the look-- “the kind of thing that Styles seems to make wearable” klasjdlk the doubtful ‘seems’ is sending me. Either way we can definitely all agree on the camp part, and that the matching face mask (as seen in the audience shots and in adorbs pics of him camping it up with Lizzo backstage) is amazing, love that (even if he does spend way too much time nervously pulling it on and off omg just LEAVE IT) and it even went also with outfit number THREE (or at least it did as well as any of his anything went together lol) which was a big floppy orange coat and plaid pants and a THIRD BOA, a dignified (haha JK NOPE it’s still a muppet) black number this time.

It seems the performance was filmed in advance rather than done live-- there were clues suggesting this might be the case, but the real giveaway was when a picture from it leaked before the broadcast, lol. Way to make it so we “can’t even tell if it’s live or not” Ben, and why is he STILL so obsessed with trying to gaslight us anyway my god just say what’s prerecorded it’s fiiiine. ANYWAY Harry played Watermelon Sugar and only WS; well after all it is his GRAMMY AWARD WINNING SONG. Plus it was a really nice version, all smooth and funky, with a highlight of the night being Harry’s full on 60s girl group choreo move with the backup singers, omg. Those backing vocalists were the duo G.A.W.D., and there was extra accompaniment by fellow nominee Devonte Hynes aka Blood Orange (who also directed the performance and no I do not know what that means) and “Spencer and Josh” on horns (the closest I can find to someone crediting them so, apologies guys). Anyway! All of them (regular HS band included) were decked out in matching gucci black leather too and looking good. And Harry looked so happy to be up there performing, just beaming like a lighthouse, so overall- good good stuff, I just keep on dancin!

The real bombshell of the performance though was subtle and needed confirmation after for the excitement to really hit-- it was Sarah drumming decked out in tight black leather and visibly pregnant!! That’s right, band drummer Sarah Jones is PREGNANT by (Grammy Award winning) guitarist Mitch, there’s a HARRY STYLES BAND BABY on the way!!!! WHAT A NIGHT! It wasn’t enough for Harry to find love in his own band, he’s somehow cupid-ing that energy all over the place and spreading it around, AMAZING!

And Liam comes through with not just a sweet congratulations for Harry (“what a huge moment, proud to be your brother” awwww) but also the final word on the performance look- goddammit it IS one of the rejected Best Song Ever video looks, LMAOOOO. But did he tag HSHQ instead of Harry directly in acknowledgment of how the awards system really works and that they are all to be congratulated or simply because it was easier? We will never know.

Additional tidbits-- bassist Hynes was apparently playing creative director Molly Hawkins’ dad’s bass- did we know her dad was a famous bassist who played with Fleetwood Mac and many other 70s stars?! If I did I had definitely forgotten! And more Molly news-- she’s also pregnant!! Harry will soon be surrounded by quarantine babies, dreams really coming true huh? Harry posted a pic of himself with Mitch and Devonte looking very cooool, we saw the ceramic watermelons label execs were sent for the WS release last year, and Rebecca Ferguson who knows 1D from way back when (and has recently drawn attention for talking frankly about how fucked up the industry is and about having seen unnamed boy band members literally slammed against the wall by their management) congratulated Harry and posted a couple of baby pop star Harry pics, cuuuute. Louis’ merch handlers, in response to no complaints whatsoever, sent out emails apologizing. They say they’ve run out of lanyards which were meant to be sent out so they will “be adding a freebie which we know you’ll enjoy” to affected customers’ orders. That is sucky about the lanyards but that’s customer care! Niall posted about his cool bright limited edition merch to remind that it will be gone gone gone tonight and also shared a pretty and touching picture from a the large anti violence rally held in London to protest the killing of Sarah Everard today. And finally some good advice from Bebe Rexha, loved by larries; she says she loves us right back but please don’t kill anyone for not streaming her new song! Yes good plan.

#grammy award winner #harry styles #liam payne #niall horan #louis tomlinson #CHASM baby (chaby)#also having a good day-- haylors! don’t begrudge them their excitement they haven’t been fed in like 8 years #let them carry on about Harry and Taylor actually sharing the same space and not being rude to each other especially if it continues to prod #the genuinely rofl hilarious analyses coming out of last night about them sending secret messages to each other in their performances #(which the other was definitely not present for whenever a celeb was present for another artists performance they did react cutaways)#15 mar 21 #harry lambert #molly hawkins #mitch rowland #sarah jones #ben winston #long post #sorrrrry

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hes-writer · 4 years

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Favourite (2)

Summary: harry loves one of his children less

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 1804 words

A/N: y’all know I’ve been feeling sensitive about posting this piece so if you have any comments BE NICE BE NICE BE NICE 🥺

Part 1

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The events from the previous weeks rattled the Styles’ household. Caleb woke to a tense morning the next morning where his dad was nowhere to be seen and Beatrice was holed up in her room. Dinner was even more awkward when silence draped over their backs like a cold blanket. Y/N tried her best to continue a dwindling conversation but there was only so much she could say until Beatrice’s silence towards Harry’s questions started to suggest that she didn’t want to speak to her dad. The youngest daughter, Ruby, seemed to be the holy grail of each family dinner when she babbled about her day in pre-school.

Beatrice was set to leave home in exactly two days. Y/N could feel a sense of pride seeing her eldest leave the family home, setting off to university and becoming her own person. Y/N knew that Beatrice had a difficult time separating Beatrice, Harry Styles’ daughter, to just Beatrice. Y/N looked back to when Beatrice was younger--an unexpected surprise that she learned to love when she felt the first symptoms of morning sickness--how she was bound to change her and Harry’s life forever.

___

Y/N wasn’t sure if her brain blocked out the memories of Harry being hostile to their first child until recently; maybe it was a denial that there was no way Harry could blatantly show anything less than love for their child. But the more Y/N thought about Beatrice’s birthdays, recitals and school events; all she could see notice now was Harry’s distanced posture. His distraction when Beatrice performed on stage, the excuses when she had a dance recital, and unenthusiastic greeting of ‘happy birthday’.

Harry leaned his shoulder against the door frame of the barren room, observing the bed and bedside table as it was stripped bare of the flower-printed sheets, watching his wife flip through the photo album filled with Beatrice’s accomplishments. The parents could not help but let a wave of nostalgia wash over them. The lamp on the bedside table lit the entire room. The fairy lights that were hung on her wall were taken down a few days ago; one of the items that Beatrice packed last.

“She asked me to help her put the lights up,” Harry whispered, tracing his fingers over the cream walls, walking over to where Y/N sat on the mattress. “I told her I was busy and she did it by herself,”

Y/N sighed, lifting her head to direct Harry to the spot beside her, “I know,” She sunk with Harry’s weight at her side, his slouched shoulders further emphasizing his despondent mood. “We raised a good done, hm?”

Harry shook his head in disappointment, “No..not me,” His chest ached with missed opportunities to bond with his daughter; all because he couldn’t get over the fact that she came as a surprise. He was at the peak of his career and he wasn’t too glad that he was forced to push everything back--his album release, promo, and tour--to the next year all because of a child that he didn’t even plan on having in the first place.

In retrospect, Harry should have known better. He should have reacted like a mature adult, a father-to-be and became an actual dad to Beatrice instead of holding a grudge to an innocent little baby. He still had a successful career that he always dreamed of but he can never turn back time for all the shortcomings he had with his child.

Harry felt extremely guilty for missing Beatrice’s childhood, so he tried to compensate for the guilt looming over him by presenting his younger children the type of love that he failed to give her. How daft was he to not notice his actions would only push her away from him? That, to Beatrice, it was Harry’s way of highlighting the fact that he would never accept the way she was conceived?

“What’s this?” Harry mused, tilting his jaw on where her hand rested to keep the page bookmarked.

“Jus’ some pictures over the years. Wanna see?”

Here Harry was, flicking the glossy pages of an old photo album, looking at a dopey-smiled Beatrice on her first day of kindergarten. Her hair was in pigtails done by Harry that morning because Y/N had an early day at work. She was saddened that she couldn’t go but Harry reassured her that he will be there every step of the way. It was a half-lie. Harry dropped her off, took a quick picture and left the premises as soon as he could, missing the way his daughter’s eyes glazed over. Lips formed a pout and her tiny chin quivered as she watched her dad drive off in his black Range Rover.

The next photo was 7-year old Beatrice in her pink long sleeve and a wispy tutu wrapped around her waist. Her hair was pulled back in a ballerina bun; this time was done by Y/N if the slickness of her hairstyle was anything to go by. The left page was of Beatrice on the sidelines of the auditorium. The room was partially filled. Harry concluded that it was before the performance because of the dimple printed on her cheek since the right page showcased a sullen girl surrounded by her dance mates and their parents. Harry could remember Y/N’s frantic phone calls that night, asking ‘where are you?’ and ‘what time are you getting here?’ as the faint music blared through the speakers.

Harry gulped at the memory. He came home to find Beatrice asleep in her costume, a plastic tiara gripped in her hand. Y/N said that she wanted to give it to him. Beatrice could at least give him something from her performance because he didn’t make it.

Y/N’s phone buzzed in her pocket, halting Harry’s thoughts as she answered the call. She pointed towards the door, mouthing silently that she had to answer it. “It’s Beatrice,”

Harry’s brows perched on his forehead, nervousness filled his body at the sound of her name. He didn’t even make things right before she left; too afraid of rejection when he deserved it.

His fingers flicked through the pages. Beatrice’s piano recital.

She was fourteen at that time. Caleb was sat on the seat next to him while Ruby was being nursed in Y/N’s arms. Beatrice peeked through the curtains, wanting to make sure that her dad was planted in his seat. She was excited to showcase the skills she learned in the past year. She was hoping to impress Harry in musical terms when she won first place. Beatrice was sure of it! She practiced for long hours until her fingers were stiff from overuse. Her other tries to catch her dad’s attention garnered her little-to-no attention and this was her last idea.

Y/N gave her daughter a thumbs up as Beatrice walked towards the grand piano center stage.

Beatrice was in the middle of her piece when she heard her Caleb’s curious voice over the silent crowd, “Dad, where are you going?”

She looked up just in time to catch Harry’s emotionless eyes. His expression was painted in annoyance and his phone was clutched in his hand. Beatrice’s fingers jittered with a shaky breath, feeling her fingertips trace over the wrong keys and eventually stopping altogether. The crowd gasped, murmurs flittering in and out of her ears as she stared at her lap. She tried to compose herself, maybe even pick up where she left off and continue playing as if she didn’t stop. The show must go on, right?

When Beatrice gathered enough courage to continue, she took a deep breath and lifted her head towards where her family sat. She was certain that her dad took his seat again but she could not be more wrong. Beatrice was just barely able to see Harry’s blazer flapping as the door closed shut behind him.

“She ran off stage after that,” Caleb spoke from beside him. “Didn’t want mum around. She kept asking for you but you left or something,”

Harry closed his eyes tightly, tears dripping from the corners as he breathed out a sigh. He did. He left the building as soon as he could. The urgent phone call he received was from Jeff relaying that the media claimed to have found where his kids went to school. He couldn’t jeopardize their safety because of people wanting to meet him; because of him. There was no way he would let anything hurt his children.

“I know I haven’t been the best dad to your sister,” Harry shut the book softly, wrapping his arm around Caleb’s broad shoulders. “But I really do love her,”

Caleb’s curls tickled his ears as he nodded, “She knows,”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise, “Really?”

“Yeah. Before she left, she was talking about everything she was gonna miss. She said she was going to miss you, even if you, and I quote, ‘might not miss her’,” Caleb formed his fingers into bunny ears.

Harry desperately wished that he was brave enough to fix his mistakes. A simple, wholehearted talk with Beatrice might’ve been all he needed to start mending his relationship with her. But he stood back like a coward; hiding from his own daughter because of an irrational fear of rejection. Instead, he walked by her room, door left wide open as Beatrice gathered clothes from her closet to pack in the next box. Each time he would pass by the hallway to his and Y/N’s room, more of her items would be packed up, taped and ready to go. Packed boxes slowly filled the hallway and her closet emptied as her clothing was folded in an organized manner.

First, it was her desk. Her pens and notebooks leaving the cluttered space empty. Then, it was her hangers stripped off her dresses, jackets and coats. Her shoes were the next to go, leaving more space in the downstairs closet by the door until only one pair remained unpacked; the one she used to walk out of their house. Next, it was her dresser packed with moisturizers and makeup closed tightly to prevent spillage. Beatrice peeled off her duvet and bedsheets to wash the night before she left, opting to sleep next to Ruby on her final night at home.

One image that he kept reeling in his head like a film projector was Beatrice climbing the metal steps of the ladder from the garage. She placed it sturdy on the floor before she stretched her hands to unhook the fairy lights from the wall. Unlike before where Beatrice knocked on his office door, hesitantly asking for help to put up the fairy lights--she didn’t ask for Harry’s help taking it down.

___

A/N: I know that a lot of people might've wanted a full circle ending where Harry apologizes but I'm pretty happy with this ending because it's open-ended.

___

Permanent Taglist: @fangirl-moment-x @kissme-hs @agoddamnmango @harrys-kingdom @harrysstyleseyes @calums-sugarbaby @queenbeestuffs @ashkuuuu @kettxo @send-me-styles @littledreamybeth @trustfulhaz @harrysfeastedflower @harrystxleslx @befourep @moonandstars-xox @babebenhardy @particularnarry @mendesromano @harrystylinsince1994 @juliassgem @miscll-fangirl @little-dragon-ate-my-heart @myfangirlworld @haroldssfedora @winchesterwife27 @wOwfxck @arypesanchez @harriemelonsugar @someinsanefangirl @derangedcupcake @bobo-bush @peachesaquari @shawnsnovel @ivegotparticulartaste @adore-you-hs2 @combativehood @simonsbluee @hockeyschmockey @belovedcherry @harrysahottie @adore-you-hs2 @splendidsunsetsx @turtoix @la-cey @harrys-watermelons @softkidinlove

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#harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb

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freedomfireflies · 2 years

Text

Blurbs Masterlist!

Thought I'd add the blurbs to the main masterlist! And if you'd like to check them out (or need something to do while you pass the time in the bathroom), I've added them to this post, so they're all yours! You'll find some for Harry Styles, Dylan O'Brien, and Chris Evans!

Thank you again to everyone requesting, this is so much fun!

Main Masterlist (With full series)

~ Me? Jealous?

Best friend Harry

~ Rough and Loving It*

You tell Harry to get his anger out with you

~ How Do You Like Me Now?

Harry tells you he loves you more

~ Who Knew Olive Gardens Were Sexy?*

Makeup sex

~ Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun*

Meeting famous Harry on a flight

~ Soul Surfer

Scary Harry gets a scare

~ Speak Now

Best friends to lovers

~ Wet Dreams*

Harry catches you fucking yourself

~ Dangerous Games

Famous Harry is a PR nightmare

~ Harry in Subspace*

~ Showing Harry Around Hungary

~ I Don't Need You (But I Want You)*

Harry is your ex...but what's one last time?

~ Jealousy All Through the Weeknd

You and Harry run into your ex, Abel

~ Agent Dumbass

You get shot, Harry gets pissed

~ Stitch Me Up

Harry gets shot, You get pissed

~ Apple Orchards / Bon Iver Songs*

You and Harry get frisky in public

~ Sunny with a Chance of Stalking | Pt. 2

You find yourself behind bars with the very man accused of stalking you

~ I Think I'm Losing It

Pregnancy announcement on tour

~ Mirror, Mirror

Feeling a bit insecure

~ Maybe Harry's Not So Bad

You think Harry as having an affair

~ Ring, Ring! Hello? It's Horny*

You're feeling needy and call Harry while he's in a meeting

~ Lights, Camera...Angela?

Harry's director hits on him

~ And The Winner Is...*

Harry Wins a Grammy

~ Paging Dr. McHarry

You're a nurse and Harry needs help (Grey's Anatomy Crossover)

~ Harry in Your Highlight Reel | Pt. 2

Instagram concept

~ Keep Me*

Harry in subspace

~ Cruel and Unusual Punishment*

Harry keeps you strapped to a toy during his show

~ Better Not Pout*

The one where Harry isn’t leaving until he gets what he really came for.

~ Destiny

You see Harry for the last time

~ A Mother's Touch*

You and Harry celebrate Mother's Day

~ Always*

Harry Styles x Spencer Reid crossover

~ It Had to Be You*

Your ex-stepdad has something to tell you

~ The Walls Have Ears

Your best friend's brother, Harry, overhears something he shouldn't

~ No Tears Left To Cry

You and Harry get into an argument and he makes you cry

~ The Prism*

You, Harry, and Dylan go to a sex club

~ The First Time*

Your first time with Harry

~ Baby's First Baby

Harry tries to accept life and death

~ The Boy with Angel Wings

You and Harry roam the streets of Japan

~ Code Red

Harry is prepared to help with your period

~ Forevermore

Final show concept

Blurbs about Dylan and his different characters! (Gosh he's so pretty)

Dylan:

~ Getting Caught is Much More Fun*

Dylan wants a word...alone

~ Apple Orchards / Bon Iver Songs*

You and Dylan get frisky in public

~ Pillowtalk

You're secretly hooking up with the nerd...turns out, he's not so bad

~ Bathroom Briefing*

Secret meetings in the bathroom can be quite a bit of fun

~ The Prism*

You, Dylan, and Harry go to a sex club

Thomas:

~ Thomas the Angry Train

Thomas doesn't like your idea for the mission

~ Thomas the Angry Train pt. 2

You disobeyed his one order...and now you have to face his wrath

Mitch:

~ Alone Time Is Better With You*

You catch Mitch touching himself

~ One of Those Days*

You're having a bad day, but Mitch is there to make it better

Stiles:

~ Injured and Angsty*

Stiles hurt his wrist, but you're there to take care of him

~ Chaos, Strife, Pain...and You*

Turns out, Void feeds on more than chaos

~ Scott's a Peeping Tom

Scott catches you and Stiles making out

~ Now Let Me Hear You Cheer

Stiles can't get enough of your new cheer uniform

~ Tell Me a Secret

Stiles is rather secretive about his time at Eichen House

Richie:

~ Secrets, Sex, and Scandals pt. 1* | Pt. 2

You and Riche are sneaking around

~ Staying Out of Trouble*

Richie just can't help himself when it comes to you

Blurbs about Chris and his characters! Because everybody loves Chris!

Chris:

~ I Need You

You and Chris get into a fight, but neither of you can sleep until you've made it right

~ Have My Baby

Chris wants a future with you

~ Harry Styles Has Got Nothing On You

Chris is a little insecure about your past relationship

~ Make Me Your Future

Turns out, Chris needs a reminder on why you're his favorite

Full Masterlist

Credit for the amazing dividers to @firefly-graphics

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marawritingstuff · 3 years

Text

SUNSHINE

Finally, I would like to thank my fellow classmates. I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you.

Valedictorian speech written. Come on, Amelia, no sleeping. Time to write the memoriam. Everybody would have completely forgotten about Sunshine, aka Jennifer, if those idiots stopped talking about weird stuff.

On this day as the Class of 2008 celebrates our graduation, our Sunshine isn’t here. Jennifer Halloway sadly took her life seven months ago.

Couldn’t someone else give this speech? Heaven knows, we weren’t friends. Sunshine didn’t have any friends. I didn’t even know her! Well, maybe a little bit.

Sunshine always lit up a room with her distinctive style. She brought laughter wherever she went.

My first encounter with Sunshine occurred the first day of fifth grade. Jennifer stumbled through the homeroom door dressed in a jumper that was falling apart at the seams with a sun patch centered slightly below her large breasts. The tall, overweight girl, with a haircut that even a discount barber wouldn’t admit to, clutched her books closely to her chest. As a chorus of “You are My Sunshine” sprang from the mouths of a group of students near the back, a storm of spitballs flew through the air. Sunshine didn’t even look up amid the commotion but headed to a corner desk at the far side of the classroom. A wave of sympathy overcame me, and I began to get up to greet her, only to be met by Susie, my best friend’s hand. I looked at my friends. Some were laughing while others had wrinkled up their faces as if Sunshine had a communicable disease that could be passed through the air by her mere presence. There is not much I can say now. Then I was a ten-year-old girl who wanted to be liked so I wrote off Sunshine’s life, joining in my friends’ laughter and jeers that would last for nearly seven more years.

Her intelligence and compassion did not go unnoticed by teachers and fellow students.

Sunshine remained on the periphery of my universe. We were both smart, extremely smart. Advanced placement classes cluttered our schedules; at least for a while, but she lacked the social graces to stay amongst the “gifted.” Group projects were the new fad in education. My peers pretended to let Sunshine be part of the group during class, but everyone knew the real discussions, work, and fun happened afterschool. Nobody ever told her where the meetups were happening. When it came to the division of work, the group inevitably responded: Jennifer refused to help. Some of the teachers would try to elicit a defense from Sunshine, but she remained silent. I guess she never got over the fear instilled in her in elementary school. Supposedly, she told on some bullies for calling her “Cabbage Patch Kid” and they slammed her in the mud and kicked her bad. Of course, there were some teachers who were just as ruthless as the students. I heard Ms. Reardon, the sixth-grade science teacher, tell her that despite her intelligence, social problems meant that she would never succeed in life and Mr. Pearson, the seventh-grade English teacher, said someone as poor as her shouldn’t have hope. I wish I could say that I acted differently, that I tried to include her, but I didn’t. By the time we reached high school, the group project grades had dropped her out of my academic circle. However, the continued bullying kept Sunshine burning bright in my orbit.

Jennifer’s grace was an example to us all.

The whole cheerleading squad threw me a welcome party the day before my freshman year began. They even brought me the cutest outfit and a junior offered me a ride. At 7: 15 a.m., she pulled into the driveway in her clunker. Fifteen minutes later we screeched into the parking lot, just as the buses were pulling in. The unmistakable sound filled my ears. “You Are My Sunshine.” Mud balls flew knocking Jennifer from the stairs of the bus onto the concrete. She pulled herself up dredging her splattered sunshine jumpsuit with her. As she stepped through the entrance doors, Sunshine disappeared from my mind again.

Though she wasn’t one of the more outgoing students, she was beloved by everyone.

That first year our paths didn’t cross much as our classes were clearly different now and extra-curricular activities weren’t her thing. At times, I would hear calls of “fatso”, “creepy”, and “not so little Orphan Annie” coming from the halls, and witness Sunshine being thrown into lockers. At lunch she sat alone, while some kids threw food at her and most...okay, all…of us just sneered. Gossip went around that her grandmother, her sole living relative, got cancer and the water in her house was turned off. Her hygiene suffered, ostracizing her even more. One morning I really had to pee, so reluctantly ran to the gross bathroom on the first floor. That giant jumpsuit was in a sink with Sunshine scrubbing it with a bar of soap. Laughter exploded from me. She just stood there scrubbing…I am sorry I did that now.

I, for one, enjoyed Jennifer’s contributions in the classroom.

A language class was required for all students and, unfortunately, I lacked any skills in this area, so this meant mixing with all the other sophomores. As I walked into class, I noticed the name cards carefully placed on the desks. Señora Amelia Brantley. Cute. Assigned Seating. I scanned the desks. Señora Jennifer Halloway right next to Señor Harry Hankel, the quarterback, who later became captain of the football team, a notorious bully. Everyone thought Harry would make it to the NFL someday bringing fame, and money, to our school. Thus, his pranks were largely ignored, especially by the popular teachers, like Ms. Garcia. Throughout the semester, every time Ms. Garcia turned her back, he would take hold of Sunshine’s desk and throw it into the wall leaving her reeling. Ms. Garcia refused to discipline Harry, instead admonishing Sunshine for moving her seat. The worst day came on Cinco De Mayo. There was a buffet of Mexican delights contributed by the students and Ms. Garcia. A decorated piñata hung from the ceiling. At the end of class, Ms. Garcia had us start a Conga line. When Sunshine tried to join in, no one would touch her back. They called her a dirty pig and made oinking sounds. Rather than discipline the class, Ms. Garcia simply broke up the line and we went back to the Cinco De Mayo feast. Sunshine went to the back corner of the room, sat down on the floor, and for the first time ever, I saw her cry. That was the beginning of the end, even though I neither knew nor took any steps to stop it.

She was the picture-perfect student.

To be honest, SAT’s, college applications, and maintaining my 4.0 kept me too busy after that to think much about Sunshine. I jumped on the chance to assist with developing the year-book pictures, not only since it would add another line to my Ivy League applications, but also because I loved watching the blobs slowly transform into images of happy people. Cheerleaders forming pyramids. Football players making touchdowns. Even Susie’s mug, now a beautiful young lady, smiling at the Junior Fall Dance. After school one day, I stirred the solution as the last picture appeared. My arm grew limp as the picture came in focus. Sunshine was sitting in the corner of the gym at a pep-rally, all alone, grasping her knees. She looked so miserable, like a puppy that had been hit too many times. Gently, I moved the image towards the trash when the Senior Editor came in and stopped me, laughing and pronouncing that this would be a highlight. I didn’t say anything. The centerfold of the yearbook was Sunshine’s picture with the caption, “You are the light of our school.”

As we are here to celebrate our own accomplishments, I know the Senior Class wishes they could throw Jennifer a ceremony that could honor her alone.

Unlike my freshman year, I walked through the school doors on the first day of my senior year with confidence and pride; head of the cheerleading squad, member of the student council, editor of the yearbook and a shoo-in for valedictorian. Frankly, this was just a distraction from the wait on the responses of the Ivy League schools. December was the traditional month that early applicants received an acceptance…or rejection. August. September, November, were all a blur.

December 12th, I arrived home and opened my inbox:

NEW MAIL

HARVARD: APPLICATION STATUS

SUSIE: SPECIAL CEREMONY FOR SUNSHINE, DAWN

Clicking the attachment of the first message, my hands shook uncomfortably. The Harvard Crest sat cleanly at the top of the letterhead. My eyes scanned the document.

“Congratulations. You have been accepted into the incoming Class of the Fall Semester of 2008.”

The next few hours were a haze. Screams and tears. My mother hugging me. Calling Susie. It all seems like a huge mess of emotions now. Later that night, Susie called to remind me that she was picking me up at 6:00 a.m. for the ceremony. The excitement of the day had overwhelmed me. I assumed it was another award for one of the teachers. The second e-mail remained on my computer unopened as I dreamed of Harvard crimson sweatshirts.

The alarm rang all too soon, I threw on a hoodie and my Northface winter jacket and lumbered down to Susie’s car. The window made a perfectly good pillow and blocked out most of her jabbering. Later, I learned that Susie was explaining that Sunshine’s grandmother had been missing for a few days. One of the idiots from the football team called Sunshine impersonating the police luring her to the flagpole in front of the school, our destination, with a promise of information regarding her grandmother. If I had only listened to Susie. Or opened the e-mail. Or done…anything.

Susie screeched to a stop a few blocks from the school where several other cars loaded with seniors had assembled. I struggled from the car, joining a group of twenty-five in a steady creep. As we came over the hill, I could see Sunshine standing beside the flagpole in her old, scantly patched coat, shivering in the cold. She kicked the snow around her, weakly mouthing, “where are you Grandma.” The group pounced on her. Harry Hankel seized her by the arms forcing her to face the flagpole. From under the snow, two other blindsiders began to pull ropes causing a pair of bloomers and a bra to ascend. The sunshine patches left no doubt of the owner, though I had no idea where the mob had obtained her private items. The group broke out into a chorus of “You are My Sunshine” as they blasted her with ice balls, several striking her square in her mouth causing teeth to be knocked fully out. Seconds seemed liked hours until someone opened the front doors of the school. Everyone scattered. I stood there for a second watching Sunshine lie there on the ground. Blood dripped from her mouth staining the snow. Susie pulled me by the arm, and I turned away. This would be my last view of Sunshine.

I wish I had a chance to know her more personally.

The incident occurred one week before the holiday break. Sunshine didn’t make an appearance in school that week. Holiday cheer soon made me forget the horrible event as my family overwhelmed me with gifts of Harvard paraphernalia: sweatshirts, mugs, anything you could imagine. When I finally stepped back on the grounds of the school, I shivered. My eyes turned up to the flagpole resting on a shadowy image of one of Sunshine’s patches waving. Susie dismissed it as an illusion due to stress. Only a few hours into class, the principal called us all for an assembly in the auditorium. Despite my heavy sweater, I hugged myself tightly trying to keep warm. Mr. Lumbre, our principal, stepped on the stage, but I could barely see him despite all the theater lights. A shadow seemed to be engulfing him.

“Jennifer Halloway took her own life on New Year’s Day. She is survived by her grandmother. Funeral arrangements will be announced. Grief counselors will be made available in the main office. School is dismissed for the day to allow time for mourning and processing.”

The senior class sat still. I don’t know what they were feeling, all I know is no one said a word.

We really didn’t have the opportunity to say a proper good-bye. However, even after she was gone, Jennifer still seemed to be with us somehow.

No sunshine came through the clouds the day they put her in the ground. Only her grandmother and the church pastor watched as the casket descended into the earth. I sat in Susie’s car staring. I read in the newspaper that Sunshine had shot herself with her grandfather’s old gun. Her grandmother, finally recovering from a bout of dementia, returned to find her in the garage a few days later. Some of the other seniors said they were going to come to the funeral. Susie backed out but let me take the car. Only the hearse and the pastor’s beat up Chevy kept me company in the cemetery parking lot. I couldn’t bring myself to get out and drove away in perceived silence, though I thought I heard the faint sound of Nat King Cole’s “When Shadow’s Fall.”

The grief counselors only stayed a few days as no one sought their services. Sunshine never left. No matter how hard I tried to avoid it, every morning the sunshine shadow enveloped me as I crossed under the flagpole. As the temperatures rose outside the school, they fell within. The furnace was replaced, but the temperature didn’t rise a degree. They tore apart the ductwork, vents, and changed all the thermostats. Nothing worked. Soon things…well…they started getting scary. Senior girls were randomly being thrown into lockers. Books flew from students’ arms. The darkness and “When Shadow’s Fall” were everywhere. Most of the students, and staff, for that matter, were unfamiliar with the song. My grandmother adored Nat King Cole. Though I used to love hearing that smooth baritone, I shivered as it creeped from every Ipod, car stereo, and even the PA system. No other music has been heard in the school since Sunshine’s death.

I walked into a biology class one day on a mission to deliver notices of the upcoming teacher and student council cooperative meeting. There sat Harry Hankel snoring away as a film on protozoa projected over him. I stared at him and sighed, sick of the whole damn school. To my shock, an invisible force picked up his desk and relentlessly banged him back and forth into the wall. I saw nothing touch him but some in the class maintain that a sunshine shaped shadow passed over the film screen before the accident. Harry’s dreams, and the school’s dreams, were over. The doctors were unable to repair the damage in his right leg. He will never play football again.

We wish she could have partaken in the many happy activities of Senior year that are captured forever in our memories.

The final grade announcements confirmed my valedictorian status. I wanted to drop it all and drive off to Massachusetts, never to look back. However, the yearbook distribution had to be done. On the penultimate day of school for the seniors, I walked into the student council office and watched my junior editor sliding receipts into each book. She abruptly stopped, something seeming to catch her eye. Flipping open the book, she let out a shriek and bolted from the office. Drifting over to her workplace, the pages of the yearbook flipped back in the constant cool breeze that pervaded the office. I covered my mouth in horror, looking down at the faces, or lack of faces, of the senior class. Susie should have been smiling back at me. Instead, there was a black spot in the shape of a sunshine. Book after book, page after page, the same. Black blotches smeared out any faces of seniors. Slumping down in a chair, I began to cry. I wasn’t sure then, or even now, who or what I was crying about. Was it for our lost happy year? Was it for the loss of my hard work? Or was it finally for Sunshine?

We are all sorry for the tragedy that befell Jennifer. I can only hope that Sunshine can find the peace she was seeking. Goodbye Jennifer.

There will be no yearbooks to sign this year. Mr. Lumbre cancelled the prom. No one objected. Soon there will be parents wishing many of us well as we head off to our respective colleges and universities. The question is will Sunshine be with us? Will she stay at the school? I don’t know the answer to that. I do know that she is here now as I type these words, shivering, in the dark, a sunshine shaped shadow looming over me.

I…am…. sorry….

#writers on tumblr #my writing #fiction #short story

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eabhaalynn · 4 years

Text

My 11 Songs of the Decade (because 10 would be boring and is overdone.)

Cigarette Daydreams – Cage the Elephant

The song… This is the closing song of Cage the Elephant’s 2013 album, Melophobia, and the third single released from this album. It describes the pain of someone’s search for their own identity through the musings of a parted lover.

For me… To this day, this is the song I cry to. This always has been me and my friend Iona’s song. It will forever be inseparable from the Ulster Museum and Botanic Gardens in Belfast, from rainy summer’s days and rants about our seemingly massive problems with GCSEs and girls from school. When she went abroad for her gap year, I couldn’t bear to listen to it. It’s another one of these songs that manages to articulate what it feels like to be young and thinking too much.

Key lyric…If we can find a reason, a reason to change Looking for the answer If you can find a reason, a reason to stay Standing in the pouring rain

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvVJ0v6Vta8

Ribs – Lorde

The song… This is a deep house influenced electronica song that discusses Lorde’s stress over ageing. It was released on her debut album, Pure Heroine, in 2013. It begins ambiently and builds to become increasingly more frantic as the song progresses.

For me… Despite being released when I was a young teenager, this song was written when Lorde was sixteen or seventeen. It articulates exactly what it feels like to be that age, at that stage of life. I’m quite sure teenagers across the globe can relate to that. This song has been the soundtrack of my teenage years, the imagery is both relatable and accessible. Listening now, it gives me a sense of nostalgia, a yearning to be back where I was a year, or two or three years ago. Even now, it is the sound of being alone in a crowd. It is musically perfect, and a piece of exceptional songwriting.

Key lyric…This dream isn't feeling sweet We're reeling through the midnight streets And I've never felt more alone It feels so scary, getting old

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qaeoz_7cyE

Sign of the Times – Harry Styles

The song… This is Harry Style’s debut single as a solo artist. It was released in early 2017 and appears on his self-titled debut album. It is a power ballad with eclectic influences from genres such as soft rock, indie rock, glam rock and psychedelic soul. It features Styles’ vocals alongside choral harmonies throughout. It is essentially about avoiding emotion during times of grief and hardship.

For me…This is the song of me leaving school (for the first time). Listening to it now coughs up all the feelings of relief, and yet uncertainty. Excitement, but also nerves. Summer 2017 was a turning point for me. I had had a terrible couple of years over my GCSEs, and overall, my second school was a far better place for me to be than my first one ever was. At the time though, I didn’t know this. Sure, how could I? This song helped me figure out my feelings, and make sense of feeling happy when I really didn’t know what I should have felt at all.

Key lyric…We don't talk enough, we should open up Before it's all too much Will we ever learn? We've been here before It's just what we know

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qN4ooNx77u0

Ride – Lana Del Rey

The song… This song comes from Lana Del Rey’s third EP, Paradise, released in 2012. It served as the first single of this re-release. It is a ballad that includes, among other themes, parental problems, loneliness and alcohol misuse. Del Rey sings over a string drenched, piano driven melody.

For me… This is the song of every summer. It has never been an exceptionally happy song for me, but it is the embodiment of what it is to feel young and alive, if a little bit tired. The glamour of it, alongside the acknowledgement that everything isn’t perfect, but that they will be okay if you just go with the flow, was exactly what I needed at the time it was released. The blissful uncertainty of the summers of being 14 and 15, partnered with the irrelevance of the future, is exactly what this song will always be about for me.

Key lyric… Been trying hard not to get into trouble But I, I've got a war in my mind I just ride, just ride

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Py_-3di1yx0

Don’t Delete the Kisses – Wolf Alice

The song… This is the second single from Wolf Alice’s second album, Visions of a Life. It is characterised as dream pop, synth pop, shoegaze and indie rock. Frontwoman Rowsell referred to it as “one of those, you know, ‘head out the window on a long drive’ kind of tunes.’

For me… If ‘ribs’ is the sound of being seventeen, then surely this is the sound of falling in love. This song is the ultimate love song. I am absolutely convinced of it. It is greater than any one person as it is simply the sound of the feeling. I am very lucky that I actually was falling in love for the first time at the time this was released. I will always be indebted to Ellie Rowsell for being there to tell me in plain English how I was feeling. This song has defined every ‘lovey dovey’ mood I have been in for the last two and a half years. I’m sure most people of my age feel the same. It was written for the era we are living in and it is perfectly suited to it.

Key lyric…I see the signs of a lifetime, you 'til I die

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WqxE-zppu30

Motion Sickness – Phoebe Bridgers

The song… This is the third single from Phoebe Bridger’s 2017 Debut album ‘Stranger in the Alps.’ It describes “being in love with someone who is super mean to you… like conflicted feelings.” Bridger’s stated to radio station KCRW that the song was written about fellow musician Ryan Adams.

For me… Admittedly, I discovered this song late in the decade. But it’s a song about feelings. Like, really hard feelings. This decade, and especially the latter half of it, threw up a lot of feelings, about a lot of things. I suppose this is fairly standard for most people approaching the end of their teenage years. It’s angsty, without being too bothered about anything. It’s raw and honest; articulating everything I’ve felt about everyone at one stage or another, and I’m equally, I’m sure it articulates enough people’s feelings about me.

Key lyric… You said when you met me you were bored And you, you were in a band when I was born

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9sfYpolGCu8

A & E – Brand New Friend

The song… This illustrates the rise and fall of a relationship, and in doing so highlights the more melancholic acoustic side of Northern Irish indie pop group Brand New Friend. It was initially released in 2016 as the closing song of their debut EP, American Wives, but was remastered and re-released on their 2017 album Seatbelts for Airplanes.

For me… This is the song of the medicine application. Bearing in mind I know this band, and know that there is a well-developed meaning to the song that has nothing to do with me, this is the song that I have listened to, and seen live, countless times from the day I decided I wanted to be a doctor to the day I got into medical school and beyond. It is a rare and beautiful connection to have to a song like this, and one for which I am forever going to be grateful. Now, I can’t hear the song live without bawling my wee eyes out. I have come so far, and the band have too, and the song has been with us every step of the way. That truly means the world to me.

Key lyric… She wants to be a paramedic / Wants to save a strangers life / Now she wants to hold my hand / Does she know she’s saving mine?

https://open.spotify.com/track/5RmOfF1s5zW2B942H9OGXT?si=hsauA8iXQN6mXQnL8s0fBw

Brazil – Declan McKenna

The song… McKenna initially self-released this song in December 2014. It is critical of FIFA, of their awarding of the 2014 World Cup to Brazil without addressing the deep rooted and extensive poverty affecting the Nations people. It gained widespread media attention throughout the FIFA corruption scandal, before featuring on his debut album, ‘What do you think about the Car?’ in July 2017. It is an indie rock song that is driven by guitars and synths.

For me… This song was the sound of 2016 and 2017. It was released a while before this but I was fairly late jumping on the bandwagon. It’s a political song, speaking of the injustices behind FIFA and their 2014 World Cup in Brazil. As an angry little leftist, I have always appreciated this. I can only appreciate it more knowing that Declan McKenna himself was only fourteen when he wrote it. For me the song has many happy memories attached to it, from the long summer walks from my house to the nearest village to see my friends who were working as sailing instructors, to attending a tiny gig of Declan McKenna’s in the Oh Yeah Centre in Belfast and being about 6 feet from his face while he was 6 feet from the cusp of fame.

Key lyric…Because you've had your chances, yeah you've had enough I'm gonna burn your house down to spread peace and love

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=duHjQ3BE6D8

Robbers – The 1975

The song… This is the sixth single from the 1975’s self-titled debut album. It was released as a single in May 2014. The song’s concept follows an ill-fated robbery, and was inspired in part by the 1993 film ‘True Romance.’ It is essentially about a relationship in which the partners are too focused on each other to notice the destruction they are each causing.

For me… This song is fairly definitive of my teenage years as a whole. The narrative of a toxic relationship that the writer could not, or would not leave, was one that I always managed to connect to, across all aspects of my life as a young teenager, encountering uncomfortable situations within school and with different people and groups of friends. Matty Healy was (and honestly still is) one of the biggest crushes I’ve ever had. I’ve now heard this song live three different times, at three completely different phases of my life. It is a song with so much meaning, and yet one that has grown and evolved with me throughout the decade.

Key lyric… Now everybody's dead And they're driving past my old school And he's got his gun, he's got his suit on She says, 'Babe, you look so cool'

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iyy3YOpxL2k

Get Well Soon – Ariana Grande

The song… This is the final song on Grande’s 2017 album ‘Sweetener,’ it is a soul ballad with layered vocals, and is inspired by Grande’s personal anxiety and trauma following the May 2017 terrorist attack following her concert in Manchester. In memory of the 22 victims of this attack, there is a 40 second moment of silence at the end of the song.

For me… I am, and have been, a very anxious person for a very long time. This is something I have never really hid away from, but also never felt up to talking openly about. This song manages to describe the feelings associated with anxiety in a way I have never heard any mainstream musician attempt before. Ariana’s concert which was attacked in May 2017, that which inspired this song, immediately followed her concert that my father and sister had attended, and so the whole song and sequence of events is and always has been very close to home for me.

Key lyric…I'm too much in my head, did you notice? (Girl, what’s wrong with you? Come back down)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXU4P6j3TNY

She’s Thunderstorms – Arctic Monkeys

The song… This is the first song from the fourth studio album by arctic monkeys; Suck it and See, released in 2011. It originated when Alex Turner was looking for a new way of complimenting someone. It begins with an Eastern inspired riff and is fairly heavily guitar led, characteristic of this period in the Arctic Monkey’s discography

For me… I’d be lying if I said this isn’t one of my favourite songs of all time. I chose it for this list because it is my favourite song by the arctic monkeys, who are my favourite band. Its subject, Alexa Chung, basically leads the life I wish I had. Even more so at the time this song was written than now. I remember being twelve or thirteen and just wanting someone to write something like this for me. The sheer detail of the lyrics is beautiful and so captivating, they played a huge part in helping me find my love for music in an accessible way. I loved, and still do love, the relationship they had. I feel like it translated so well into his music, and into the popular culture that shaped my teenage years exceptionally well.

Key lyric…Here is your host, sounds as if she's pretty close When the heat starts growing horns She's thunderstorms

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQSQnHh4rPE

#music #songs #arctic monkeys #ariana grande #the 1975 #lana del rey #phoebe bridgers #lorde #declan mckenna #brandnewfriend #cage the elephant #wolf alice #harry styles

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stuckwith-harry · 4 years

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Thoughts on Mirrorball being a Ginny song?? Also, what would you say is THE most Hinny Taylor Swift song? 💕💕💕

mirrorball definitely works as a ginny song! big brain thinking many thoughts abt the themes of carving out a space and an identity for yourself n proving yourself vs performing/reflecting other people vs many layered identities wrapped up in one person n being perceived as all of them in all their complexity. yea. the girl with the diary and the cheerleader and the quidditch heroine and the warrior and the leader and the lover and the daughter/sister/mother and the WRITER.

(but also if you have thoughts on this please tell me them anon ... who/what is the circus in this interpretation i am so intrigued now)

second i for some reason have a need to make my playlists sonically and thematically cohesive so most of my hinny songs come off reputation and folklore (my highlights reel, i'd say, is call it what you want, new year's day, august and peace), with a few red tracks coming to mind as honourary mentions (see: state of grace, title track, treacherous) AND ALSO 1989 is predominantly a ginny album to me (see: CLEAN, blank space) but it does revolve heavily around a doomed romance that dies and comes back to life again (see: out of the woods, style, this love) and a love interest with green eyes called harry. so.

also i recently sent the love club gc a whole thinkpiece about taylor as the prophet of doomed romances (see: wildest dreams, getaway car, cardigan) and how that discography-spanning theme relates to hinny (ginny knowing that harry would leave in the end and embarking on the romance anyway) so all of those songs can be understood as hinny songs in that sense

that was a very long-winded answer but i reckon you saw that coming the way 2012-2017 taylor swift sees the demise of her romances coming. eyes wide open head full

#owl post #anon #hinny #ts #music #its asks like this that make me stick around on tumblr dot hell!

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fishandchipsandvinegar · 4 years

Photo

* Header art by @shadowravin

This month I was fortunate to participate in a massive podfic challenge called @voiceteam on Discord, and was a part of Team Orange-You-Glad-I-Saved-This-Braincell.

TEAM BRAINCELL TOP 12 PODFICS (and other audio fanworks)

If you would like to hear the best of our work, you can listen to a highlights reel here.

12. In Which We Properly Sort Water Into It's Hogwart's House, and other Such Things by Team Braincell

Type: Oral not!fic Featuring: @mayonnaisetoffees, @omg-elledubs-things, @romansuzume, @jetainia, @oakleaffic, @shadowravin, @sunlightsymphony, and @fishandchipsandvinegar Fandom: Water Ship: Many, Many Things/Water Rating: Explicit Length: 36:21

While this oral not!fic entertains the idea of water having its own fandom, it did birth all of our “Water Fandom” content on AO3. It seems cracky, but this not!fic is actually a really funny listen if you’re looking to kill a bit of time. And we think the Water Fandom is really going to take off. Even if we have to single handedly do it:

11. The Influences of Ourselves by @jetainia

Type: Podfic Read By: @jetainia Fandom: Water and Harry Potter Crossover Ship: The Black Lake/The Giant Squid Rating: Mature Length: 2:00

This requires some context of the “Water Fandom” mentioned above as it is one of the fanworks created for it. It’s the story of The Black Lake and the Giant Squid and is actually really beautiful.

10. What Do You Do As A Fallen Angel by @fishandchipsandvinegar, @thegay-uillotine, and @oakleaffic

Type: Filk Sung By: Team Braincell, and various Voiceteam contributors Fandom: Good Omens Ship: Aziraphale/Crowley Rating: Teen Length: 8:02

It’s Crowley’s adventures sung to the tune of Drunken Sailor. What’s not to love? Alright, so it’s a little all over, but it just adds to the genuineness of it being a folk song. Brace yourself for the “Hail The Great Beasts.”

9. A Mice Day by @doublel27

Type: Podfic Read By: @sunlightsymphony Fandom: Schitt’s Creek Ship: Patrick/David Rating: General Length: 9:32

I don’t know if it’s just that @sunlightsymphony has the perfect voice for fluff or what? But something about this keeps me coming back. It’s cute and light and silly and overall, a good listen.

8. Dumbass (With Love) by @anxiousoddish

Type: Podfic Read By: @mayonnaisetoffees Fandom: Team StarKid Ship: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins Rating: Teen Length: 18:03

I’m not even in this fandom and I’ve listened to this more times than I care to admit. Despite this actually being a somewhat serious fic, @mayonnaisetoffees keeps this light and funny all the way through. It carries, even if you aren’t in the fandom.

7. If The Heavens Ever Did Speak by @captaingondolin

Type: Podfic Read By: @captaingondolin Fandom: Shakespeare RPF and Historical RPF Ship: Shakespeare/Marlowe Rating: Teen Length: 12:53

Yes I’ve also listened to this more times than I care to admit. This podfic is singlehandedly dragging me into the Shakespeare/Marlowe ship, and yes, there’s exactly as many dick jokes as you’d expect.

6. How The Thought of You Does Things to Me by @romansuzume

Type: Podfic Read By: @romansuzume Fandom: Marvellous Mrs. Maisel Ship: Lenny Bruce/Miriam "Midge" Maisel Rating: Teen Length: 19:14

This isn’t the ship I think I’d pick from the show, but I’m here for any Mrs. Maisel content. Gingermaggie’s write and read is the balance of levity and gravity that encompasses Mrs. Maisel.

5. Stories That I Used to Know by @omg-elledubs-things

Type: Filk Sung By: @omg-elledubs-things Fandom: Archive of Our Own Ship: None Rating: General Length: 4:03

Okay, this is just still stuck in my head and I feel a little called out. It’s a lot of fun and the recording is great!

4. Bang by @stars-inthe-sky

Type: Podfic Read By: @liquidlyrium and @shadowravin Fandom: MCU Ship: Natasha/Bucky Rating: General Length: 2:27

Ravin and Liquid Lyrium’s performances of this are so perfect, it feels like more than a podfic. It will have you laughing from start to finish.

3. I AM GROOT by sherlocksmyth on AO3

Type: Podfic? (Read: Abomination) Created By: @mayonnaisetoffees and @fishandchipsandvinegar Fandom: Guardians of the Galaxy Ship: Just Groot Rating: Explicit (but it’s safe for work, we promise) Length: 11:45

Ah yes, the thing that sent us down the road to madness. This is ridiculous and will make you laugh. It’s an “explicit” Groot fic, but I promise it is safe for work.

It’s what happens when you decide you can make a podfic using only clips from songs and videos of Vin Diesel reading his lines.

2. The Devil’s Cut/The Angel’s Share by @racketghost

Type: Podfic Read By: @liquidlyrium Fandom: Good Omens Ship: Aziraphale/Crowley Rating: Explicit Length: 40:00

Liquid Lyrium put their heart and soul into this and it shows. The read is breathtaking and the pacing is perfect.

1. The Great Miserables Bake Off by @kjack89

Type: Podfic Read By: @oakleaffic, @sammysidle, @christchex, @thegay-uillotine, @jetainia, @fishandchipsandvinegar, @mayonnaisetoffees, @rindle, @sunlightsymphony, @shadowravin, @captaingondolin Fandom: Les Miserables Ship: Enjolras/Grantaire, Combeferre/Courfeyrac, Cosette/Marius Rating: General Length: 52:02

This is I think the biggest multivoice production I’ve ever listened to. It was incredible that we were able to get all of the voices and the script style made it all come together just like an actual episode of Bake Off, complete with dramatic music.

Everyone did an incredible job, but things to listen for: @mayonnaisetoffees and @jetainia as Enjolras and Grantaire played perfectly off of each other despite the fact that they were recording in completely opposite time zones.

@sunlightsymphony nailed Marius’ constant state of worry, and @oakleaffic nailed the perfect balance to all our drama with a well-rounded narration role.

It was one of the first things we all did together but I think it also stands out as maybe our best project. So it gets the #1 slot.

Thanks for Listening!

(you can see the rest of Team Braincell’s Podfics here)

#podfic #rec list #voiceteam2020 #team braincell #seriously my team is amazing #And they made so much great stuff it's hard to narrow down

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hlupdate · 5 years

Link

Harry Styles isn’t exactly dressed down for lunch. He’s got a white floppy hat that Diana Ross might have won from Elton in a poker game at Cher’s mansion circa 1974, plus Gucci shades, a cashmere sweater, and blue denim bell-bottoms. His nail polish is pink and mint green. He’s also carrying his purse — no other word for it — a yellow patent-canvas bag with the logo “Chateau Marmont.” The tough old ladies who work at this Beverly Hills deli know him well. Gloria and Raisa dote on him, calling him “my love” and bringing him his usual tuna salad and iced coffee. He turns heads, to put it mildly, but nobody comes near because the waitresses hover around the booth protectively.

He was just a small-town English lad of 16 when he became his generation’s pop idol with One Direction. When the group went on hiatus, he struck out on his own with his brash 2017 solo debut, whose lead single was the magnificently over-the-top six-minute piano ballad “Sign of the Times.” Even people who missed out on One Direction were shocked to learn the truth: This pinup boy was a rock star at heart.

A quick highlight reel of Harry’s 2019 so far: He hosted the Met Gala with Lady Gaga, Serena Williams, Alessandro Michele, and Anna Wintour serving an eyebrow-raising black lace red-carpet look. He is the official face of a designer genderless fragrance, Gucci’s Mémoire d’une Odeur. When James Corden had an all-star dodgeball match on The Late Late Show, Harry got spiked by a hard serve from Michelle Obama, making him perhaps the first Englishman ever hit in the nads on TV by a First Lady.

Closer to his heart, he brought down the house at this year’s Rock & Roll Hall of Fame ceremony with his tribute to his friend and idol Stevie Nicks. “She’s always there for you,” Harry said in his speech. “She knows what you need: advice, a little wisdom, a blouse, a shawl.” He added, “She’s responsible for more running mascara — including my own — than all the bad dates in history.” (Backstage, Nicks accidentally referred to Harry’s former band as “’NSync.” Hey, a goddess can get away with that sort of thing.)

Harry has been the world’s It boy for nearly a decade now. The weirdest thing about him? He loves being this guy. In a style of fast-lane celebrity that takes a ruthless toll on the artist’s personality, creativity, sanity, Harry is almost freakishly at ease. He has managed to grow up in public with all his boyish enthusiasm intact, not to mention his manners. He’s dated a string of high-profile women — but he never gets caught uttering any of their names in public, much less shading any of them. Instead of going the usual superstar-pop route — en vogue producers, celebrity duets, glitzy club beats — he’s gone his own way, and gotten more popular than ever. He’s putting the finishing touches on his new album, full of the toughest, most soulful songs he’s written yet. As he explains, “It’s all about having sex and feeling sad.”

The Harry Charm is a force of nature, and it can be almost frightening to witness in action. The most startling example might be a backstage photo from February taken with one of his heroes, Van Morrison. You have never seen a Van picture like this one. He’s been posing for photos for 50 years, and he’s been refusing to crack a smile in nearly all of them. Until he met Harry — for some reason, Van beams like a giddy schoolgirl. What did Harry do to him? “I was tickling him behind his back,” Harry confides. “Somebody sent me that photo — I think his tour manager took it. When I saw it, I felt like John Travolta in Pulp Fiction opening the case with the gold light shining. I was like, ‘Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t show this to anyone.’”

In interviews, Harry has always tended to coast on that charm, simply because he can. In his teens, he was in public every minute and became adept at guarding every scrap of his privacy. But these days, he’s finding out he has things he wants to say. He’s more confident about thinking out loud and seeing what happens. “Looser” is how he puts it. “More open. I’m discovering how much better it makes me feel to be open with friends. Feeling that vulnerability, rather than holding everything in.”

Like a lot of people his age, he’s asking questions about culture, gender, identity, new ideas about masculinity and sexuality. “I feel pretty lucky to have a group of friends who are guys who would talk about their emotions and be really open,” he says. “My friend’s dad said to me, ‘You guys are so much better at it than we are. I never had friends I could really talk to. It’s good that you guys have each other because you talk about real shit. We just didn’t.’”

It’s changed how he approaches his songs. “For me, it doesn’t mean I’ll sit down and be like, ‘This is what I have for dinner, and this is where I eat every day, and this is what I do before I go to bed,’” he says. “But I will tell you that I can be really pathetic when I’m jealous. Feeling happier than I’ve ever been, sadder than I’ve ever been, feeling sorry for myself, being mad at myself, being petty and pitiful — it feels really different to share that.”

At times, Harry sounds like an ordinary 25-year-old figuring his shit out, which, of course, he is. (Harry and I got to know each other last year, when he got in touch after reading one of my books, though I’d already been writing about his music for years.) It’s strange to hear him talk about shedding his anxieties and doubts, since he’s always come across as one of the planet’s most confident people. “While I was in the band,” he says, “I was constantly scared I might sing a wrong note. I felt so much weight in terms of not getting things wrong. I remember when I signed my record deal and I asked my manager, ‘What happens if I get arrested? Does it mean the contract is null and void?’ Now, I feel like the fans have given me an environment to be myself and grow up and create this safe space to learn and make mistakes.”

We slip out the back and spend a Saturday afternoon cruising L.A. in his 1972 silver Jaguar E-type. The radio doesn’t work, so we just sing “Old Town Road.” He marvels, “‘Bull riding and boobies’ — that is potentially the greatest lyric in any song ever.” Harry used to be pop’s mystery boy, so diplomatic and tight-lipped. But as he opens up over time, telling his story, he reaches the point where he’s pitching possible headlines for this profile. His best: “Soup, Sex, and Sun Salutations.”

How did he get to this new place? As it turns out, the journey involves some heartbreak. Some guidance from David Bowie. Some Transcendental Meditation. And more than a handful of magic mushrooms. But mostly, it comes down to a curious kid who can’t decide whether to be the world’s most ardently adored pop star, or a freaky artiste. So he decides to be both.

Two things about English rock stars never change: They love Southern California, and they love cars. A few days after Harry proclaimed the genius of “Old Town Road,” we’re in a different ride — a Tesla — cruising the Pacific Coast Highway while Harry sings along to the radio. “Californiaaaaaa!” he yells from behind the wheel as we whip past Zuma Beach. “It sucks!” There’s a surprising number of couples along the beach who seem to be arguing. We speculate on which ones are breaking up and which are merely having the talk. “Ah, yes, the talk,” Harry says dreamily. “Ye olde chat.”

Harry is feeling the smooth Seventies yacht-rock grooves today, blasting Gerry Rafferty, Pablo Cruise, Hall and Oates. When I mention that Nina Simone once did a version of “Rich Girl,” he needs to hear it right away. He counters by blowing my mind with Donny Hathaway’s version of John Lennon’s “Jealous Guy.”

Harry raves about a quintessential SoCal trip he just tried: a “cold sauna,” a process that involves getting locked in an ice chamber. His eyelashes froze. We stop for a smoothie (“It’s basically ice cream”) and his favorite pepper-intensive wheatgrass shot. It goes down like a dose of battery acid. “That’ll add years to your life,” he assures me.

We’re on our way to Shangri-La studios in Malibu, founded by the Band back in the 1970s, now owned by Rick Rubin. It’s where Harry made some of the upcoming album, and as we walk in, he grins at the memory. “Ah, yes,” he says. “Did a lot of mushrooms in here.”

Psychedelics have started to play a key role in his creative process. “We’d do mushrooms, lie down on the grass, and listen to Paul McCartney’s Ram in the sunshine,” he says. “We’d just turn the speakers into the yard.” The chocolate edibles were kept in the studio fridge, right next to the blender. “You’d hear the blender going, and think, ‘So we’re all having frozen margaritas at 10 a.m. this morning.’” He points to a corner: “This is where I was standing when we were doing mushrooms and I bit off the tip of my tongue. So I was trying to sing with all this blood gushing out of my mouth. So many fond memories, this place.”

It’s not mere rock-star debauchery — it’s emblematic of his new state of mind. You get the feeling this is why he enjoys studios so much. After so many years making One Direction albums while touring, always on the run, he finally gets to take his time and embrace the insanity of it all. “We were here for six weeks in Malibu, without going into the city,” he says. “People would bring their dogs and kids. We’d take a break to play cornhole tournaments. Family values!” But it’s also the place where he has proudly bled for his art. “Mushrooms and Blood. Now there’s an album title.”

Some of the engineers come over to catch up on gossip. Harry gestures out the window to the Pacific waves, where the occasional nude revelry might have happened, and where the occasional pair of pants got lost. “There was one night where we’d been partying a bit and ended up going down to the beach and I lost all my stuff, basically,” he says. “I lost all my clothes. I lost my wallet. Maybe a month later, somebody found my wallet and mailed it back, anonymously. I guess it just popped out of the sand. But what’s sad is, I lost my favorite mustard corduroy flares.” A moment of silence is held for the corduroy flares.

Recording in the studio today is Brockhampton, the self-proclaimed “world’s greatest boy band.” Harry says hi to all the Brockhampton guys, which takes a while since there seem to be a few dozen of them. “We’re together all the time,” one tells Harry out in the yard. “We see each other all day, every day.” He pauses. “You know how it is.”

Harry breaks into a dry grin. “Yes, I know how it is.”

One Direction made three of this century’s biggest and best pop albums in a rush — Midnight Memories, Four and Made in the A.M. Yet they cut those records on tour, ducking into the nearest studio when they had a day off. 1D were a unique mix of five different musical personalities: Harry, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik, and Liam Payne. But the pace took its toll. Malik quit in the middle of a tour, immediately after a show in Hong Kong. The band announced its hiatus in August 2015.

It’s traditional for boy-band singers, as they go solo and grow up, to renounce their pop past. Everybody remembers George Michael setting his leather jacket on fire, or Sting quitting the Police to make jazz records. This isn’t really Harry Styles’ mentality. “I know it’s the thing that always happens. When somebody gets out of a band, they go, ‘That wasn’t me. I was held back.’ But it was me. And I don’t feel like I was held back at all. It was so much fun. If I didn’t enjoy it, I wouldn’t have done it. It’s not like I was tied to a radiator.”

Whenever Harry mentions One Direction — never by name, always “the band” or “the band I was in” — he uses the past tense. It is my unpleasant duty to ask: Does he see 1D as over? “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t think I’d ever say I’d never do it again, because I don’t feel that way. If there’s a time when we all really want to do it, that’s the only time for us to do it, because I don’t think it should be about anything else other than the fact that we’re all like, ‘Hey, this was really fun. We should do this again.’ But until that time, I feel like I’m really enjoying making music and experimenting. I enjoy making music this way too much to see myself doing a full switch, to go back and do that again. Because I also think if we went back to doing things the same way, it wouldn’t be the same, anyway.”

When the band stopped, did he take those friendships with him? “Yeah, I think so,” he says. “Definitely. Because above all else, we’re the people who went through that. We’re always going to have that, even if we’re not the closest. And the fact is, just because you’re in a band with someone doesn’t mean you have to be best friends. That’s not always how it works. Just because Fleetwood Mac fight, that doesn’t mean they’re not amazing. I think even in the disagreements, there’s always a mutual respect for each other — we did this really cool thing together, and we’ll always have that. It’s too important to me to ever be like, ‘Oh, that’s done.’ But if it happens, it will happen for the right reasons.”

If the intensity of the Harry fandom ever seems mysterious to you, there’s a live clip you might want to investigate, from the summer of 2018. Just search the phrase “Tina, she’s gay.” In San Jose, on one of the final nights of his tour, Harry spots a fan with a homemade sign: “I’m Gonna Come Out to My Parents Because of You!” He asks the fan her name (she says it’s Grace) and her mother’s name (Tina). He asks the audience for silence because he has an important announcement to make: “Tina! She’s gaaaaay!” Then he has the entire crowd say it together. Thousands of strangers start yelling “Tina, she’s gay,” and every one of them clearly means it — it’s a heavy moment, definitely not a sound you forget after you hear it. Then Harry sings “What Makes You Beautiful.” (Of course, the way things work now, the clip went viral within minutes. So did Grace’s photo of Tina giving a loving thumbs-up to her now-out teenage daughter. Grace and Tina attended Harry’s next show together.)

Harry likes to cultivate an aura of sexual ambiguity, as overt as the pink polish on his nails. He’s dated women throughout his life as a public figure, yet he has consistently refused to put any kind of label on his sexuality. On his first solo tour, he frequently waved the pride, bi, and trans flags, along with the Black Lives Matter flag. In Philly, he waved a rainbow flag he borrowed from a fan up front: “Make America Gay Again.” One of the live fan favorites: “Medicine,” a guitar jam that sounds a bit like the Grateful Dead circa Europe ’72, but with a flamboyantly pansexual hook: “The boys and girls are in/I mess around with them/And I’m OK with it.”

He’s always had a flair for flourishes like this, since the 1D days. An iconic clip from November 2014: Harry and Liam are on a U.K. chat show. The host asks the oldest boy-band fan-bait question in the book: What do they look for in a date? “Female,” Liam quips. “That’s a good trait.” Harry shrugs. “Not that important.” Liam is taken aback. The host is in shock. On tour in the U.S. that year, he wore a Michael Sam football jersey, in support of the first openly gay player drafted by an NFL team. He’s blown up previously unknown queer artists like King Princess and Muna.

What do those flags onstage mean to him? “I want to make people feel comfortable being whatever they want to be,” he says. “Maybe at a show you can have a moment of knowing that you’re not alone. I’m aware that as a white male, I don’t go through the same things as a lot of the people that come to the shows. I can’t claim that I know what it’s like, because I don’t. So I’m not trying to say, ‘I understand what it’s like.’ I’m just trying to make people feel included and seen.”

On tour, he had an End Gun Violence sticker on his guitar; he added a Black Lives Matter sticker, as well as the flag. “It’s not about me trying to champion the cause, because I’m not the person to do that,” he says. “It’s just about not ignoring it, I guess. I was a little nervous to do that because the last thing I wanted was for it to feel like I was saying, ‘Look at me! I’m the good guy!’ I didn’t want anyone who was really involved in the movement to think, ‘What the fuck do you know?’ But then when I did it, I realized people got it. Everyone in that room is on the same page and everyone knows what I stand for. I’m not saying I understand how it feels. I’m just trying to say, ‘I see you.’”

At one of his earliest solo shows, in Stockholm, he announced, “If you are black, if you are white, if you are gay, if you are straight, if you are transgender — whoever you are, whoever you want to be, I support you. I love every single one of you.” “It’s a room full of accepting people.… If you’re someone who feels like an outsider, you’re not always in a big crowd like that,” he says. “It’s not about, ‘Oh, I get what it’s like,’ because I don’t. For example, I go walking at night before bed most of the time. I was talking about that with a female friend and she said, ‘Do you feel safe doing that?’ And I do. But when I walk, I’m more aware that I feel OK to walk at night, and some of my friends wouldn’t. I’m not saying I know what it feels like to go through that. It’s just being aware.”

‘Man cannot live by coffee alone,” Harry says. “But he will give it a damn good try.” He sips his iced Americano — not his first today, or his last. He’s back behind the wheel, on a mission to yet another studio — but this time for actual work. Today it’s string overdubs. Harry is dressed in Gucci from head to toe, except for one item of clothing: a ratty Seventies rock T-shirt he proudly scavenged from a vintage shop. It says “Commander Quaalude.”

On the drive over, he puts on the jazz pianist Bill Evans — “Peace Piece,” from 1959, which is the wake-up tone on his phone. He just got into jazz during a long sojourn in Japan. He likes to find places to hide out and be anonymous: For his first album, he decamped to Jamaica. Over the past year, he spent months roaming Japan.

In February, he spent his 25th birthday sitting by himself in a Tokyo cafe, reading Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. “I love Murakami,” he says. “He’s one of my favorites. Reading didn’t really used to be my thing. I had such a short attention span. But I was dating someone who gave me some books; I felt like I had to read them because she’d think I was a dummy if I didn’t read them.”

A friend gave him Murakami’s Norwegian Wood. “It was the first book, maybe ever, where all I wanted to do all day was read this,” he says. “I had a very Murakami birthday because I ended up staying in Tokyo on my own. I had grilled fish and miso soup for breakfast, then I went to this cafe. I sat and drank tea and read for five hours.”

In the studio, he’s overseeing the string quartet. He has the engineers play T. Rex’s “Cosmic Dancer” for them, to illustrate the vibe he’s going for. You can see he enjoys being on this side of the glass, sitting at the Neve board, giving his instructions to the musicians. After a few run-throughs, he presses the intercom button to say, “Yeah, it’s pretty T. Rex. Best damn strings I ever heard.” He buzzes again to add, “And you’re all wonderful people.”

He’s curated his own weird enclave of kindred spirits to collaborate with, like producers Jeff Bhasker and Tyler Johnson. His guitarist Mitch Rowland was working at an L.A. pizza shop when Harry met him. They started writing songs for the debut; Rowland didn’t quit his job until two weeks into the sessions. One of his closest collaborators is also one of his best friends: Tom Hull, a.k.a. Kid Harpoon, a longtime cohort of Florence and the Machine. Hull is an effusive Brit with a heart-on-sleeve personality. Harry calls him “my emotional rock.” Hull calls him “Gary.”

Hull was the one who talked him into taking a course on Transcendental Meditation at David Lynch’s institute — beginning each day with 20 minutes of silence, which doesn’t always come naturally to either of them. “He’s got this wise-beyond-his-years timelessness about him,” Hull says. “That’s why he went on a whole emotional exploration with these songs.” He’s 12 years older, with a wife and kids in Scotland, and talks about Harry like an irreverent but doting big brother.

Last year, Harry was in the gossip columns dating the French model Camille Rowe; they split up last summer after a year together. “He went through this breakup that had a big impact on him,” Hull says. “I turned up on Day One in the studio, and I had these really nice slippers on. His ex-girlfriend that he was really cut up about, she gave them to me as a present — she bought slippers for my whole family. We’re still close friends with her. I thought, ‘I like these slippers. Can I wear them — is that weird?’

“So I turn up at Shangri-La the first day and literally within the first half-hour, he looks at me and says, ‘Where’d you get those slippers? They’re nice.’ I had to say, ‘Oh, um, your ex-girlfriend got them for me.’ He said, ‘Whaaaat? How could you wear those?’ He had a whole emotional journey about her, this whole relationship. But I kept saying, ‘The best way of dealing with it is to put it in these songs you’re writing.’”

True to his code of gallant discretion, Harry doesn’t say her name at any point. But he admits the songs are coming from personal heartbreak. “It’s not like I’ve ever sat and done an interview and said, ‘So I was in a relationship, and this is what happened,’” he says. “Because, for me, music is where I let that cross over. It’s the only place, strangely, where it feels right to let that cross over.”

The new songs are certainly charged with pain. “The stars didn’t align for them to be a forever thing,” Hull says. “But I told him that famous Iggy Pop quote where he says, ‘I only ever date women who are going to fuck me up, because that’s where the songs are.’ I said, ‘You’re 24, 25 years old, you’re in the eligible-bachelor category. Just date amazing women, or men, or whatever, who are going to fuck you up, and explore and have an adventure and let it affect you and write songs about it.’”

His band is full of indie rockers who’ve gotten swept up in Hurricane Harry. Before becoming his iconic drum goddess, Sarah Jones played in New Young Pony Club, a London band fondly remembered by a few dozen of us. Rowland and Jones barely knew anything about One Direction before they met Harry — the first time they heard “Story of My Life” was when he asked them to play it. Their conversation is full of references to Big Star or Guided by Voices or the Nils Lofgren guitar solo in Neil Young’s “Speakin’ Out.” This is a band full of shameless rock geeks, untainted by industry professionalism.

In the studio, while making the album, Harry kept watching a vintage Bowie clip on his phone — a late-Nineties TV interview I’d never seen. As he plays it for me, he recites along — he’s got the rap memorized. “Never play to the gallery,” Bowie advises. “Never work for other people in what you do.” For Harry, this was an inspiring pep talk — a reminder not to play it safe. As Bowie says, “If you feel safe in the area that you’re working in, you’re not working in the right area. Always go a little further into the water than you feel you are capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth. And when you don’t feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom, you’re just about in the right place to do something exciting.”

He got so obsessive about Joni Mitchell and her 1971 classic Blue, he went on a quest. “I was in a big Joni hole,” he says. “I kept hearing the dulcimer all over Blue. So I tracked down the lady who built Joni’s dulcimers in the Sixties.” He found her living in Culver City. “She said, ‘Come and see me,’” Hull says. “We turn up at her house and he said, ‘How do you even play a dulcimer?’ She gave us a lesson. Then she got a bongo and we were all jamming with these big Cheshire Cat grins.” She built the dulcimer Harry plays on the new album. “Joni Mitchell and Van Morrison, those are my two favorites,” he says. “Blue and Astral Weeks are just the ultimate in terms of songwriting. Melody-wise, they’re in their own lane.”

He’s always been the type to go overboard with his fanboy enthusiasms, ever since he was a kid and got his mind blown by Pulp Fiction. “I watched it when I was probably too young,” he admits. “But when I was 13, I saved up money from my paper route to buy a ‘Bad Motherfucker’ wallet. Just a stupid white kid in the English countryside with that wallet.” While in Japan, he got obsessively into Paul McCartney and Wings, especially London Town and Back to the Egg. “In Tokyo I used to go to a vinyl bar, but the bartender didn’t have Wings records. So I brought him Back to the Egg. ‘Arrow Through Me,’ that was the song I had to hear every day when I was in Japan.”

He credits meditation for helping to loosen him up. “I was such a skeptic going in,” he says. “But I think meditation has helped with worrying about the future less, and the past less. I feel like I take a lot more in—things that used to pass by me because I was always rushing around. It’s part of being more open and talking with friends. It’s not always the easiest to go in a room and say, ‘I made a mistake and it made me feel like this, and then I cried a bunch.’ But that moment where you really let yourself be in that zone of being vulnerable, you reach this feeling of openness. That’s when you feel like, ‘Oh, I’m fucking living, man.’”

After quite a few hours of recording the string quartet, a bottle of Casamigos tequila is opened. Commander Quaalude pours the drinks, then decides what the song needs now is a gaggle of nonsingers bellowing the chorus. “Muppet vocals” is how he describes it. He drags everyone in sight to crowd around the mics. Between takes, he wanders over to the piano to play Harry Nilsson’s “Gotta Get Up.” One of the choir members, creative director Molly Hawkins, is the friend who gave him the Murakami novel. “I think every man should read Norwegian Wood,” she says. “Harry’s the only man I’ve given it to who actually read it.”

It’s been a hard day’s night in the studio, but after hours, everyone heads to a dive bar on the other side of town to see Rowland play a gig. He’s sitting in with a local bar band, playing bass. Harry drives around looking for the place, taking in the sights of downtown L.A. (“Only a city as narcissistic as L.A. would have a street called Los Angeles Street,” he says.) He strolls in and leans against the bar in the back of the room. It’s an older crowd, and nobody here has any clue who he is. He’s entirely comfortable lurking incognito in a dim gin joint. After the gig, as the band toasts with PBRs, an old guy in a ball cap strolls over and gives Rowland a proud bear hug. It’s his boss from the pizza shop.

In the wee hours, Harry drives down a deserted Sunset Boulevard, his favorite time of night to explore the city streets, arguing over which is the best Steely Dan album. He insists that Can’t Buy a Thrill is better than Countdown to Ecstasy (wrongly), and seals his case by turning it up and belting “Midnight Cruiser” with truly appalling gusto. Tonight Hollywood is full of bright lights, glitzy clubs, red carpets, but the prettiest pop star in town is behind the wheel, singing along with every note of the sax solo from “Dirty Work.”

A few days later, on the other side of the world: Harry’s pad in London is lavish, yet very much a young single dude’s lair. Over here: a wall-size framed Sex Pistols album cover. Over there: a vinyl copy of Stevie Nicks’ The Other Side of the Mirror, casually resting on the floor. He’s having a cup of tea with his mum, Anne, the spitting image of her son, all grace and poise. “We’re off to the pub,” he tells her. “We’re going to talk some shop.” She smiles sweetly. “Talk some shit, probably,” says Anne.

We head off to his local, sloshing through the rain. He’s wearing a Spice World hoodie and savoring the soggy London-osity of the day. “Ah, Londres!” he says grandly. “I missed this place.” He wants to sit at a table outside, even though it’s pouring, and we chat away the afternoon over a pot of mint tea and a massive plate of fish and chips. When I ask for toast, the waitress brings out a loaf of bread roughly the size of a wheelbarrow. “Welcome to England,” Harry says.

He’s always had a fervent female fandom, and, admirably, he’s never felt a need to pretend he doesn’t love it that way. “They’re the most honest — especially if you’re talking about teenage girls, but older as well,” he says. “They have that bullshit detector. You want honest people as your audience. We’re so past that dumb outdated narrative of ‘Oh, these people are girls, so they don’t know what they’re talking about.’ They’re the ones who know what they’re talking about. They’re the people who listen obsessively. They fucking own this shit. They’re running it.”

He doesn’t have the uptightness some people have about sexual politics, or about identifying as a feminist. “I think ultimately feminism is thinking that men and women should be equal, right? People think that if you say ‘I’m a feminist,’ it means you think men should burn in hell and women should trample on their necks. No, you think women should be equal. That doesn’t feel like a crazy thing to me. I grew up with my mum and my sister — when you grow up around women, your female influence is just bigger. Of course men and women should be equal. I don’t want a lot of credit for being a feminist. It’s pretty simple. I think the ideals of feminism are pretty straightforward.”

His audience has a reputation for ferocity, and the reputation is totally justified. At last summer’s show at Madison Square Garden, the floor was wobbling during “Kiwi” — I’ve been seeing shows there since the 1980s, but I’d never seen that happen before. (The only other time? His second night.) His bandmates admit they feared for their lives, but Harry relished it. “To me, the greatest thing about the tour was that the room became the show,” he says. “It’s not just me.” He sips his tea. “I’m just a boy, standing in front of a room, asking them to bear with him.”

That evening, Fleetwood Mac take the stage in London — a sold-out homecoming gig at Wembley Stadium, the last U.K. show of their tour. Needless to say, their most devoted fan is in the house. Harry has brought a date: his mother, her first Fleetwood Mac show. He’s also with his big sister Gemma, bandmates Rowland and Jones, a couple of friends.

He’s in hyperactive-host mode, buzzing around his cozy VIP box, making sure everyone’s champagne glass is topped off at all times. As soon as the show begins, Harry’s up on his feet, singing along (“Tell me, tell me liiiiies!”) and cracking jokes. You can tell he feels free — as if his radar is telling him there aren’t snoopers or paparazzi watching. (He’s correct. This is a rare public appearance where nobody spots him and no photos leak online.) It’s family night. His friend Mick Fleetwood wilds out on the drum solo. “Imagine being that cool,” Gemma says.

Midway through the show, Harry’s demeanor suddenly changes. He gets uncharacteristically solemn and quiet, sitting down by himself and focusing intently on the stage. It’s the first time all night he’s taken a seat. He’s in a different zone than he was in a few minutes ago. But he’s seen many Fleetwood Mac shows, and he knows where they are in the set. It’s time for “Landslide.” He sits with his chin in hand, his eyes zeroing in on Stevie Nicks. As usual, she introduces her most famous song with the story of how she wrote it when she was just a lass of 27.

But Stevie has something else she wants to share. She tells the stadium crowd, “I’d like to dedicate this to my little muse, Harry Styles, who brought his mother tonight. Her name is Anne. And I think you did a really good job raising Harry, Anne. Because he’s really a gentleman, sweet and talented, and, boy, that appeals to me. So all of you, this is for you.”

As Stevie starts to sing “Landslide” — “I’ve been afraid of changing, because I built my life around youuuu” — Anne walks over to where Harry sits. She crouches down behind him, reaches her arms around him tightly. Neither of them says a word. They listen together and hold each other close to the very end of the song. Everybody in Wembley is singing along with Stevie, but these two are in a world of their own.

#harry styles #rs #260819 #drug mention

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