#This is partly reiterating my need to see the boys in good musicals

[meraki-yao]

An image of Taylor as Orpheus and brunette Nick as genderbent Eurydice from Hadestown just popped up in my head and I went "... Huh."

[neverenoughofstyles]

diana ...

ok so i know this song wasn’t totally slept on back when mm was released but really diana is such a beautiful song when you take it out of the bubblegum boyband shell it was stuck in a few years ago. It’s really a love letter to the fans and the lyrics are touching. Lets have a look shall we? Also I’ll note two things. 1. these are just my opinions on the song im not saying its all right just theory and 2. Liam and louis wrote on this song just fyi

The front pages are your pictures

They make you look so smart

How could someone not miss you at all? (Oh-ah-oh)

so this part says to me the fans are so widely known everyone knows they’re dedicated and talented and that we were so powerful at one point! Then after they mention all of these glorious things it takes a somber tone like with how could someone not miss you. As if to say these fans are so amazing how could they not be apprectiatesd as much as we appreciate them?

I never would mistreat ya

I'm not a criminal

I speak a different language but I still hear your call

so this next part talks about never disrespecting us. Also it feels to me like celebrating and giving recognition to the fact the fans are credited to this massive success. One of the best lines, i speak a different language but i still hear your call just evokes an image of 15 different fans sitting in 15 different rooms and 15 different countries smiling through their tears and leaning on one direction for their source of happiness and they are understanding us.

Diana, let me be the one to

Light a fire inside those eyes

You've been lonely, you don't even know me

But I can feel you crying

Again these lines reiterate the fact that we most of us have never met face to face right? But there’s this indescribable bond and safety that’s associated with our fanbase. For some of us its the sole reason we smile in a day. And if it is than thats amazing. And if its not they’re still here to make you happy and give u good music. Also the you dont even know me gives me moods from this is us with the girl on the beach lol. I can feel you crying. I think its so profuound they were recognizing they were more than just a band and people who heard the name one direction were too caught up in the”fangirl histeria” that the media shoved down our throats that they couldn’t see what a good community was created because of this band. We basically started stan twitter (but thats getting off topic lol)

Diana, let me be the one to

Lift your heart up and save your life

I don't think you even realize

Baby you'll be saving mine

Then we have them basically saying damn i’ll take away your pain ill mend you ill help you because doing this saves me too. You’re not alone we’re in this together. And partly i think thats why one direction worked so well. Because they GENUINELY(lol) just seemed like normal lads who actually cared about people and are and still are nice good people. So yeah its like they said we’re a team because we’ve seen them grow we know so much about them and they’ve seen their fanbase grow and mature with them. Its super cool when you think about it.

Diana, it's only been four months but

You've fallen down so far

How could someone mislead you at all? (Oh ah oh)

I wanna reach out for you

I wanna break these walls

I speak a different language but I still hear you call

Again we are presented with “diana” the fans being in a negative place. Break these walls is a differnt lyric we haven’t seen before. Walls as it potential lies and smoke and mirrors from the media? Or simply being able to tour more places and see everyone? Or wishing there was a way to properly thank everyone for supporting them and knowing each fan just a little better? Up to interpretation.

Diana, let me be the one to

Light a fire inside those eyes

You've been lonely, you don't even know me

But I can feel you crying

Diana, let me be the one to

Lift your heart up and save your life

I don't think you even realize

Baby you'll be saving mine

Same lyrics. not talking about it twice this is already an essay for no reason.

We all need something

This can't be over now

If I could hold ya

Swear I'd never put you down

I like this part too. Don’t even get me started about sonically this songs power. The little owoah ohs sound like the fans singing back to them and the dramatic pause after we all need something and then the beginning of the song kinda sounds like screams maybe to represent the fans? Idk. We all need something it becomes a little slower and meaningful. Like this song is in itself an escape? A message or something to hold onto? Also again reiterating they are going to be there for their fans and celebrate in their ability and greatness. Or if your a certain niall horan you don’t write thesis’s on silly songs and do a hip thrust to this part during each concert :)))

Diana, let me be the one to

Light a fire inside those eyes

You've been lonely, you don't even know me

But I can feel you crying

Diana, let me be the one to

Lift your heart up and save your life

I don't think you even realize

Baby you'll be saving mine

Diana

(Oh ah oh oh oh oh oh oh) Diana, baby you'd be saving mine

(Oh ah oh) Diana

(Oh ah oh oh oh oh oh oh) Diana, baby you'd be saving mine

Again the boys talking about a mutual saving of lives. It really is beautiful to know how many people’s lives have been genuinely saved by this community. I know maybe this song wasn’t intended to be taken into such deep meaning but when i think abot how many stories i’ve heard about fans strugggling and recovering with one direction, even myself personally it’s quite an achievement that goes unnoticed. It’s really a shame the mainstream media only looks into the shallow portions of a fan base and the “ omg i want to marry you all” culture. Thats simply not what one direction was about. Maybe 2010 x factor days a little bit, but once you were a fan it’s so much more than good looks. Because you can see beautiful guys everywhere, but its this fan base this incredible mutual trust and community that we’ve built that just shocks me and brings me so much joy to this day. Diana kinda sums this up for me and acknowledges the power we have within us to help eachother.

I know no one asked for or even wanted an in depth analysis on diana but it made me feel good to write it so yeah. Hope you enjoyed my essay. The end lol.

[h-styles-babes]

No Control | Chapter Twenty-Seven

Summary: 

Micky Bennett: college student, loyal friend, aspiring nurse, One Direction fan, Harry Styles enthusiast. Her best friend, Trevor, wins tickets to a show in New Jersey with meet and greet passes. Micky expects a quick photo op with the boys and a great night at the concert with her best friend. What she gets a whole lot more than she bargained for.

To read previous chapters, you can go here.

*Please feel free to reblog and send feedback. It’s much appreciated :)*

*Gif is not mine.*

TWENTY-SEVEN

Harry

My fingers drum nervously against the steering wheel as we make the drive to Holmes Chapel. The drumming isn’t even in time to the beat of the music that’s coming through the radio, which is pissing me off, but I can’t help the nervous ticking. I’ve only got my left had on the wheel, my right tugging against my bottom lip, a nervous habit I think I picked up from one of the lads at some point, but now I can’t stop. Micky is sat in the seat beside me looking out the window. She’s got her own lip secured between her teeth, a habit I find way too endearing and downright filthy in the best situations, but right now, I know it’s her nervous energy, too. 

She’s expressed her concerns about my mum disliking her for getting pregnant and Gemma completely shitting on her—which, knowing Gem, is entirely possible (might have to do some begging when we get there). I’ve tried my best to assuage her fears, letting her know that my mum will be a bit concerned that I’m going to be a dad, but ultimately loving because she’s finally going to get a grandchild. My mother, I know, will be in the same vain as Micky’s; to her, all babies should be celebrated and worth getting excited over because they’re a blessing. She may be a bit disappointed about this being the situation that brought her her first grandchild, but she would never do anything but welcome them with open arms and a loving heart. And she’d love Micky in the midst of it just as much. I’m convinced she fell in love with Micky faster than I did.

And with that thought, I choke on my own saliva, causing a coughing fit that has my face heating. I’ve never even let myself think about the possibility that I actually fell in love with Micky back in August. We were only together for about two weeks, and we talked off and on for only a month and a half afterward. Never would I have thought that that was a long enough time to fall in love with someone. I knew what I felt for her was strong and it filled my heart and made me warm, but I had always just assumed that was because of the whirlwind our romance was. She gave herself to me so easily, and I to her, that I just thought we grew comfortable with each other more quickly than most other people. This isn’t the first time that the thought of love has flit across my mind—because I do love her in a sense that I love all my friends—but this is the first time that my subconscious and conscious mind has admitted to being in love with her.  

“You alright, H?” Micky asks, obvious concern for my sudden coughing fit etched across her face. She pulls the water bottle I’ve brought along in the center console and opens the cap. I thank her with a nod as she hands it to me.

I cough a few more times before nodding and handing the bottle back. “Choked on my own spit,” I admit.

Micky giggles, the tinkling of it starting off gentle before building into a more belly-like sound. “The man who can hold a note for, like, an unreasonably long time and sound amazing just choked on his own spit while not even talking.”

“Shut it,” I huff, my throat still sort of rough. She continues giggling though, and I think it’s the first time I’ve heard her sound so happy since we’ve been in each other’s presence again. Despite the grey overcast of the day outside and the light mist of rain that’s ever-present in the winter in England, her smile seems to brighten the atmosphere, and I swear her laugh is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. While I’m still freaking out over telling my family about the baby, hearing how happy she sounds in this moment makes me think that maybe everything will be okay.

My mum’s house looks extremely welcoming despite the absolute gloom surrounding it. It’s something you get used to in England, though, and the dreariest, most miserable of days can seem like a warm hug after spending so much time somewhere foreign that doesn’t see a lot of rain. Living in LA is nice, don’t get me wrong, and I appreciate the change of pace from living my whole life in the UK, but I miss home more than I admit to anyone, even myself. Even these short trips back make me feel a lot better.

“I’m gonna have a fucking panic attack,” Micky mutters. I can see her hands shaking as she reaches to undo her seatbelt, and I wrap my hand around hers.

“Hey, it’ll be alright. Mum and Robin won’t be bad and Gem’s not here yet,” I tell her, gesturing at the drive. “Mum won’t let her get too bad, either.”

Her chest heaves with a deep breath before giving me one resolute nod and undoing her belt. I flash her what I hope is a reassuring smile—even though I’m not feeling particularly assured myself—before getting out of the car and going around to open her door. I take her purse from her first, where I know she’s got some of her scans in case my mum wants to see them, and then grip below her elbow to help her up. The SUV is sort of high and the cement is slippery, so I make sure she’s steady on her feet as she steps down. 

She looks really cute today in her plaid button down dress, black tights, black boots, and jean jacket with leather sleeves. She looks comfortable while still fashionable, and I like the way the dress hugs the curve of her swollen belly. I don’t really know where or when I got my little love for pregnant women, but it’s only amplified ten fold now that the pregnant woman in question is Micky.

When she steps down and slams the car door closed behind her, she smiles up at me, the grin a little timid but I can tell she’s trying to reassure herself as much as she’s trying to reassure me. I wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her into my chest, resting my chin atop her head. I feel her fists clench into the material of my jumper underneath my jacket as she nuzzles her face into my neck. Her boots have a bit of a heel on them, putting her at the perfect height to bury her cold nose against the warmth of my throat. 

“Gonna be okay,” I reiterate. I press one more kiss to her forehead and then give her a little squeeze. “Gotta head in, babe. Get this over with.”

“Ripping off a plaster,” she sighs. 

Scariest plaster I’ve ever had to rip off.

I keep a hand gripped around her’s as we walk up to the front door, partly to make sure she doesn’t slip and fall, but mostly because I like the silent support I can feel in the way her fingers squeeze mine just a little tighter when I place my other hand on the doorknob. One last deep breath and I twist it open. The familiar scent of my mum’s house soothes my frazzled nerves just enough that I don’t get physically sick when I hear her voice calling my name.

“Hi, Mum,” I call back, and I can hear the clattering of dishes in the kitchen. The scent of pancakes is thick in the air, but I can’t really appreciate it with the way my stomach is churning. 

“Oh, Harry, darling.” Her slippered feet make a shuffling sound against the hardwood floors, and my chest tightens with the anticipation and anxiety. Micky pulls to remove her hand from mine, but I need her right now more than ever, so I tighten my grip. I think she understands my plight, because she rubs my back with her other hand in big, comforting circles. 

When my mum emerges from around the corner, there’s a massive grin on her face, happy as I’ve ever seen her. I was in town only a few weeks ago, but I had given her the impression that I’d be spending a lot more time in America now, considering Jeff was there and I sort of had to be close by in order to figure out what my next moves with my career are without flying him back and forth all the time. When I’d called to tell her I’d be out for the weekend on short notice, she was a little surprised, but she had been excited, obviously.

The smile quickly drops into a confused little frown.

“Micky?” she sort of gasps. The way Mick is half stood behind me, I don’t think my mum can see any of her stomach, and the way her dress drapes doesn’t make it immediately obvious that she’s pregnant.

I very nearly hear Mick swallow nervously before answering. “Hi, Anne. Good to see you.” Her voice is shaky, and the hand that was once rubbing soothing circles is now shaking against the crook of the small of my back. 

“Haven’t seen you in forever, sweetheart.” The stunned look falls from my mum’s face, and another smile takes over. I hadn’t been lying to Micky when I told her my mother had missed her nearly as much as I had in her absence. Mum is still convinced that Micky and I are destined to be together, or something just as dramatic, so I’m sure she’s just chuffed that the girl is now standing in her home. “Harry, you didn’t tell me you’d gotten back into contact with her.”

Her scold is light but very tangible with the raise of her eyebrows. I grimace slightly at being called out for not telling her sooner, but I hadn’t really known what to say. I couldn’t really bring up running into Micky without bringing up the pregnancy, and that was definitely not something I would ever tell my mother over the phone. She’d have my head if I did that, and I quite like it sat where it is. 

“Wanted to surprise you,” I answer in a half-hearted excuse. She scowls but shuffles forward, pulling me into a hug that separates Mick and me. 

“Well, consider me surprised,” she chuckles, though she pinches my arm as we pull away. 

I pout at her before recovering. 

I take a deep breath before blurting, “I actually have to tell you something.” Holding me at arm’s length by my shoulders, Mum looks over my face. I’m sure she can see the fear written all over it and the concern in my eyes. My heart is thundering in my chest at having to tell her, but I know I should do it now before she figures it out for herself. In this moment, I think telling her over the phone might have been a good idea after all, because I swear I’m about to vomit all over the floor. 

“What is it, then?” she asks, and there’s an anxiousness in her voice that I think she’s getting from the look on my face. Her eyes dart between mine and Micky’s, settling back on mine. 

I try to cough away the lump in my throat, but it just won’t go away. The tightening my chest from earlier is back with a vengeance, and I know that I’m only seconds away from crying. And not like the little misty eyed I got at the Bennett’s home last night while talking to Cindy, but like full blown tears running down my face and snot leaking from my nose. Something about being in my mother’s house and having to tell her that I got a girl pregnant is making me revert back to a little kid. I’ve always been most comfortable crying in my mum’s presence if I can’t be alone, and the way she’s looking at me with such unconditional love makes it impossible for me not to.

“Fuck,” I curse softly as I feel the first tears slip down my face. I wipe hastily at them with the sleeve of my jacket and sniffle back the running of my nose that’s already kicked up. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” There’s legitimate concern washing over her features, and now I just feel bad for making her think something awful has happened.

‘Fuck it,’ I think. No amount of beating around the bush or prolonging is going to make this situation any better.

“Micky’s pregnant.”

Mum’s mouth drops open in shock, and her hands kind of trail down my arms as she drops them by her side. She’s looking at me, her eyes searching my face for something I’m not aware of. I hear Micky shuffle behind me, her boots clattering lightly against the floor. That draws Mum’s attention, because her eyes flit over to Mick, and I see the moment she realizes just how pregnant Micky is in her eyes. 

She closes her mouth and the surprised look turns into something softer and motherly that I like seeing a lot more than her astonishment. 

“Come here, darling,” Mum beckons, holding out a hand to Micky. It’s not until I hear a sniffle that I realize she’s crying as well, and Mum is quick to pull her into a hug, one hand running soothing circuits on her back and the other petting down her hair. “It’s alright, honey. No need to cry. Either of you.” Her eyes dart to mine, a somber smile on her face.

Micky mumbles out an apology, but Mum shushes her. “None of that, love.” She turns her attention to me again. “Did they know?”

Without question, I know she’s talking about the people in management. Mum had always been apprehensive to our contracts and she’d never trusted Modest. When I’d told her what Grimmy told me about them basically forcing Micky and me apart, she hadn’t been surprised. 

I shake my head with a shrug. “Don’t think so.”

Mum sighs and Micky pulls out of the hug, wiping her fingers under her eyes to get rid of tears. Micky draws in a hiccuping breath, so I pull her to me and tuck her into my side. Mum eyes me in question but I brush it off. I’ll answer any questions she has later. 

“Let’s go sit and talk, have a cuppa. Then I have lots of questions about my grandchild.” She smiles brightly and I think it eases Mick a bit, because I feel her shoulders relax. 

I lead Mick into the kitchen after my mum. Robin is at the stove tending to popping bacon and cooking sausages. He turns and greets us with a smile as we file in and pulls both Micky and I in a hug. He must have overheard our conversation in the other room, because he doesn’t say a word or make an expression of surprise.

I help Micky into a chair at the table as my mum gets some tea together. “You alright?” I ask in a hushed tone.

Her bottom lip is bitten between her teeth as she looks up at me. I tuck a stray stand of hair behind her ear as I await her answer.

She nods. “Yeah, I’m okay. Parents took it well.”

“Told you they would.”

“Still not looking forward to telling your sister.”

“Neither am I,” I agree. I drop a kiss to the top of her head and then take my own seat beside her as Mum comes in with the tea. 

I pour mine and Micky’s cups as Mum and Robin sit down. The flames on the stove have been turned off, so I’m assuming most everything is done and we’re just waiting for my sister to get here to eat. 

“When did you two start talking again?” Mum asks as she plops some cream in her tea. 

“I ran into her in LA about a week ago,” I answer.

“You’re in LA now, dear?” 

Micky nods. “Yeah, finished school a semester early and got a job at the Children’s Hospital in LA.”

“Well that’s fantastic. They’re gonna be able to give you the time off when the baby arrives?”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem.”
 “And when are you due, sweetheart?” The warm smile on my mum’s face is reassuring, and the excitement in her eyes despite how heavy the announcement was is like a weight off my shoulders. I always knew my mum was accepting and beyond wonderful, but witnessing it in the most stressful moment in my life is more than I could have ever imagined.

Mum and Micky talk baby details, and I can see the anxiety and stress slowly melt off of Micky as the ease between her and Mum deepens. I can’t help my own smile at knowing Micky’s fears have been put to rest as far as my parents have gone. Robin, if possible, is even more relaxed about the situation than my mother. When Micky tells Mum that the baby is a girl, I see her eyes water as she smiles widely. She quiet for a few moments before essentially squealing about a granddaughter she’ll get to spoil. Mum would’ve been happy with a girl or boy, but she’s always claimed that it’s so much more fun to dress up a little girl, so I know she’s particularly excited about that. 

“Have you guys talked about names yet?” Mum asks as she pours herself another cup after having refilled Micky’s as well.

“No, not really,” I shrug. Beside the brief exchange when we decided the baby would have my last name, there hasn’t been discussion about it.

“Trev’s been getting on my arse about that,” Micky huffs with a roll of her eyes. “Says he’s gonna fill out the birth certificate paperwork himself if we can’t get it together soon. Told him we’d at least talk about it during this trip.”

“We haven’t talked about it yet,” I point out.

“We haven’t had time,” she shrugs.

“Well, do you have any ideas?” I ask. I’ve never been at the point in my life where I ever gave any serious consideration to what I’d name my future children. I made the mistake once of saying in an interview that I liked the name Darcy for a girl, but I was seventeen when I said that and it’s not something I’d even consider now. 

“I like unique names, but nothing outrageous,” Micky ponders. “I actually really like traditionally boy names for little girls. And not just because my name is technically a boy’s name.”

My mum coos. “Oh, I love that. I think it’s adorable.”

“And it’ll make her a badass when she gets older,” I smirk. “Ryan Reynolds named his daughter James.”

“See, like that. I think it’s so cool,” Micky agrees. 

Mum and Robin start throwing out different names, and I find a paper pad and a pen to start jotting them down on, otherwise I’m sure Micky and I will forget. I quickly veto a few of the suggestions that are made, and Micky laughs at the face I make when I hear them. Some traditionally female names are thrown in as well, but I brush aside ones that are a little too familiar to me. I’m not naming my daughter after anyone I’ve dated or anyone I’m close friends with. Micky has a few as well that she vehemently shakes her head at when they’re said, and I can only imagine it’s for the same reasons. 

We’re all laughing over one of Robin’s suggestions that just sounds awful, after he claimed it was an old fashioned name that used to be very popular, when we hear the front door open. I hear Gem’s voice call over the raucous of our laughter.

“What are you lot giggling like school girls over?” she asks, a smile apparent in her tone. The clack of her shoes against the flooring causes Micky to stiffen in the seat next to me, already preparing herself for the storm we both know my sister is bound to be when she finds out why we’re here. 

I grab onto her hand and run circles over her knuckles with my thumb, trying to offer her some sort of support. Her fingers squeeze mine in her nervousness as Gemma emerges in the kitchen, her boyfriend Michal right behind her. She’s all bright smiles as she walks in, Michal’s hand in her’s as my mum greets her. When Gem see’s me, her smile gets wider, but as her eyes slip to the side to see who our guest is, it drops instantly and her eyes narrow into a glare.

“What is she doing here? Thought you dropped her, Haz.”

TWENTY-EIGHT