#louis x melody

[fumikomiyasaki]

Happy new year to everyone.. and I start it with nothing special but... given I do work often on Adult designs for my ocs... in this case Louis does change his looks a ton for his partner so I took his ships and made and outfit for each partner, under who these partner of him belong to

Gamma @rookvonhunt

Melanie @twsted-princess

Melody @forestwispocs

Cattleya @sakuramidnight15

Mars @silent-dragon

Atticus @terrovaniadorm

Stella @starry-night-rose

Tsukasa @mochamicheong

Elaine @rosietrace

[rubywolf0201]

At the end of an endless journey, there must be a “time” where it’s now or never.

“It’s impossible to drown in the rain”, even so, it feels like it’s hard to breathe.

Let us draw a line inside the maze that obstructs the path of the world now.

This line will be the overlapping map: the flower that blooms for the sake of illuminating you.

A saturated gray Boucheron/Louis moodboard with street backgrounds and hydrangeas.

[theostrophywife]

the crush theory.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: london boy by taylor swift.

author’s note: this is just a cute indulgent coffee shop! au with my sweetheart enzo. majorly inspired by all the boyfriend vibes louis has been serving with miss olivia lately. let’s not even talk about the ass grab with his big hands and rings…🫣

Enzo Berkshire never quite managed to master the language of love. 

Despite being a polyglot and a linguistics major, romance remained a complete mystery to him. It wasn't like he could craft a conjugation chart to help him not make a fool of himself in front of the girl of his dreams. When it came to matters of the heart, Enzo often found himself at a loss for words. Perhaps that was the reason why he never mustered up the courage to speak to you. 

Until that one fateful fall morning. 

The kiss of autumn arrived on campus a few weeks into the semester, freeing the city from the grips of the summer heat and bringing with it the changing of leaves and the distinct scent of cinnamon and apples. Enzo shoved his hands into the pockets of his burnt orange corduroy trousers and savored the sound of the jewel toned leaves crunching underneath his loafers. As the wind picked up, he wrapped his chunky knit cardigan tighter around himself to shield against the chilly breeze. 

The ivy covered brick buildings and cobblestone streets faded into the background as he walked past the quad. Deja Brew, the little hole in the wall cafe that Enzo frequented, greeted him like an old friend. The coffee shop was located on the outskirts of campus and was only a short walk from his dorm, which made it the ideal place to conduct his tutoring sessions. Not only was it convenient, but the cozy and quiet ambience provided the perfect setting for Enzo to teach his fellow struggling students. 

As time went on, the choice of location became less about convenience and more about catching a glimpse of you—the surly barista that worked the morning shift. For the past few months, Enzo developed a rather embarrassing crush on you. There was something about your scowl and no bullshit attitude that drew him to you like a moth to a flame. Though in his case, Enzo was perfectly content to hover a safe distance from the proverbial light of your fancy French cigarette lest he get burned. 

Upon first glance, anyone would have been intimidated by you. With your faded band tees, ripped jeans, and scuffed leather boots, Enzo was well aware that a girl like you would never be interested in a bloke who's wardrobe consisted of sweaters with elbow patches, floral print button downs, and neatly pressed pleated trousers. Needless to say, you were way too cool for him. 

Enzo was resigned to merely admiring you from afar, but fate seemed to have other ideas. The bell above the door tinkled softly as he made his way into Deja Brew only to stop dead in his tracks when he spotted you at the register. Usually, you were behind the bar manning the espresso machine during the early morning rush, but not today.

Today, you were front and center. 

Part of him considered walking out the door, but given the fact that the shop was nearly empty, a hasty exit would definitely not go unnoticed. Enzo had no choice but to suck it up and approach the register with resignation. The minute he opened his mouth, he was sure he’d muck things up. 

Enzo swallowed thickly and pushed his round framed glasses further up the bridge of his nose; a nervous habit he developed when he was younger. The erratic beat of his heart echoed in Enzo’s ears as his gaze flickered up to your face, expecting to be greeted with a frown. To his surprise, your lips curved into a small smile once you spotted him. 

“Lemon balm tea with two pumps of peach syrup and a dollop of honey, right?” 

Enzo blinked at the melodious sound of your voice, nearly missing the fact that you’d recited his exact order, which shouldn’t have been surprising given the fact that you’ve been making it for him for months. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little warm inside as you looked at him expectantly. He stared in stunned silence for a moment. 

You furrowed your brow in doubt. “Did I get that wrong?” 

“No, no, it’s right. It’s great. It’s perfect—“ Enzo cleared his throat, mentally kicking himself for rambling. “I’m just surprised that you remembered it.” 

“Of course I remember it, you’re one of my regulars. I’d be a pretty shit barista if I forgot your order.” You cocked your head, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “Speaking of which, do you want your croissant warmed up, Lorenzo?” 

“You know my name?” 

Enzo hadn’t meant to sound so starstruck, but hearing his name come out of your mouth made his heart skip a beat.

“And your social security number too,” you deadpanned. Enzo’s eyes widened, which made you chuckle. “I’m just having a laugh. I promise I won’t commit identity theft against you. Unless you piss me off.” 

You accompanied the statement with a cheeky wink, which only made Enzo even more nervous. 

"Don't look so nervous, peach. I swear I don't bite."

“Right. Sure. Of course,” he stammered. “The tea and the croissant sounds good, Y/N.” The realization that you’ve never told him your name came a beat too late. “It’s on your chest. The name tag, I mean. I wasn’t just staring at your chest. Though I’m sure it’s very nice. Bloody hell, I’ll stop talking now.” 

Enzo cringed at himself, but eased when you laughed. “You’re a strange bloke, Lorenzo.” You said as you began making his drink. “But I’ve got to admit, it’s oddly charming.” 

He chuckled, trying to hide the flush coloring his cheeks. “That seems to be my sweet spot.” 

"As sweet as peaches," you retorted as you added two pumps of peach syrup into his tea. "You'll have to excuse the fruit references. Before I knew your name, I referred to you solely as the peach guy."

"Is that good or bad?"

Enzo hiked his backpack over his shoulder and meandered down the end of the counter where you were topping off his tea with a dollop of honey. You swirled it into a heart pattern before sliding the warm cup into a sleeve. 

"Well, I've never met anyone who's preferred drink could constitute as a dessert, so it's certainly something. You're an enigma, Lorenzo," you said thoughtfully. "Though I think I like peach better. You don't really strike me as a Lorenzo."

“You can call me Enzo. I prefer it over my full name. It sounds so stuffy.” 

“We certainly can’t have that,” you said with a smirk. “Enzo. I like it. It’s rather becoming. Not stuffy at all.” He chuckled as you handed him a brown bag. "I might still call you peach from time to time. Force of habit. You understand, right?"

"Of course," Enzo replied. "El loro viejo no aprende a hablar."

"You kiss your mum with that mouth, peach?"

Enzo flushed. "It's Spanish for the old parrot does not learn to talk. Basically their equivalent of you can't teach an old dog new tricks." He shifted his weight onto his other foot. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't mind if you call me peach or Enzo or whatever else you'd like."

"You're giving me way too much freedom, Enzo. I intend on taking full advantage." You winked as you slid his drink over to him. “Enjoy your croissant. I put a little something extra in there for you.” 

Enzo peered into the bag and saw an extra pastry wrapped in black cellophane next to his croissant. The brownie didn’t look like any of the ones behind the counter, which meant that it was probably homemade. Strange, he wouldn’t have pegged you for a baker. 

“Oh, you really don’t have to—” 

“Nonsense,” you countered, waving off his protests. “Really, you’d be doing me a favor. It’s an experimental recipe of mine, which makes you my guinea pig. As payment, I expect a full report on the brownie tomorrow morning. Don’t hold back either, peach. I want a brutally honest review.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” Enzo said in reassurance. “In any case, your guinea pig will take ample notes.” 

“That would be much appreciated,” you said with a serious nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Enzo-not-Lorenzo.”

Enzo couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

Enzo rubbed his temples, willing the headache forming behind his eyes to vanish. Unfortunately for him, his last tutoring session with Flint seemed to have left a permanent mark. While Enzo usually enjoyed teaching French, Marcus was proving to be a rather difficult case. Not only was Flint unwilling to do the work, the knobhead also spent the entire session leering at you instead of studying the conjugation chart that Enzo poured his blood, sweat, and tears on. 

“Merlin, I have no idea how you deal with rich, smarmy arseholes all day.” 

Enzo looked up to find you seated across the table, sliding a sandwich, a fruit cup, and a bag of crisps towards him without missing a beat. He hadn’t even realized it was already an hour past lunch until his stomach grumbled at the sight of food.

“One could argue that I’m also a rich, smarmy arsehole,” Enzo countered, picking up a grape and popping it into his mouth with a slight smile. “Yet you seem to have no problems dealing with me.” 

“Yes, well, everyone knows I’m just using you for your body. Specifically, your taste buds.” Enzo shook his head in amusement before taking a bite out of the sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly, his favorite. “Besides, how else am I supposed to learn new insults in different languages if I hadn’t met you? Speaking of which, I believe I’m completely justified in saying that Flint is a total gehirnverweigerer.”

“Marcus isn’t so bad. He just needs a bit of a push,” Enzo replied rather unconvincingly. 

“If by a push you mean my boot against his arse, then I wholeheartedly agree.” 

“The French have this saying, petit à petit, l’oiseau fait son nid. In English, it roughly translates to: little by little, the bird builds its nest.” 

“Except Flint isn’t a bird, he’s a twat,” you deadpanned. “The bloke was too busy staring at my arse to even pick up a lick of French. To think, you even made this cute little chart and everything. You have the patience of a saint, Enz.” 

“One of us has to,” Enzo replied as he tore open the bag of wotsits. “Given your proclivity to violence.” 

“Don’t make me take your crisps away, Lorenzo.” 

Shielding his wotsits from your vengeful wrath, Enzo flashed you a saccharine smile. For good measure, he even batted his pretty honey eyes at you. The audacity. “Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite person in the whole entire world?” 

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Berkshire. Now finish your lunch or else I’ll be very cross with you.” 

Enzo smiled to himself, wondering at the fact you were complete strangers until a few weeks ago. Ever since you gifted him with the best brownie he’s ever tasted in his entire life, he became your designated taste tester. Every morning, Enzo would start his day off with his usual lemon tea and whatever new pastry recipe you had chosen to tackle that week. Between the scones and muffins, Enzo learned that you intended on opening your own bakery after uni. Hence, his very important role of reviewing your recipes. 

Granted, Enzo didn’t know how much of a help he actually was given the fact that he thought everything you made was amazing. Still, the novelty of finding a fresh pastry in his bag with a handwritten note from you never failed to brighten his morning. Especially since you signed each one with a crimson kiss print that made him blush every time he laid his eyes upon it. It was safe to say his crush had only gotten worse the more he got to know you. 

As you settled behind the counter to help with the afternoon rush, Enzo attempted to get some work done before classes started for the day. With finals fast approaching, he was caught up on making sure he had everything in order. It wasn’t until Enzo heard a familiar voice when he finally tore his gaze away from his laptop screen. 

Enzo froze as he watched one of his best mates saunter up to the counter. Even from his seat by the window, he could tell that Mattheo was flirting with you. In hindsight, his friend seemed exactly like the type of guy you would go for. The broody bad boy who probably listened to all the obscure bands that you often talked to him about. As Mattheo directed his smoldering gaze at you, Enzo thought he might be violently ill. 

Squinting across the coffee shop, Enzo angrily shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers in an attempt to keep himself from strangling his curly headed friend. 

In a tone that was at least an octave deeper than his regular voice, Mattheo drawled a question at you. “What’s good here?” 

You stared at him pointedly before waving a hand towards the menu. “There’s coffee, there’s pastries. It’s really not rocket science.”

The deadpan delivery combined with the utterly unenthused expression on your face nearly made Enzo snort out loud. It might’ve been an arsehole move to rejoice at Mattheo’s fumble, but he found it immensely satisfying that you seemed to be immune to the infamous Riddle charm. 

“A bit feisty today aren’t we, love? I just wanted to see what the pretty lady behind the counter recommends.” 

Enzo watched in amusement as you slipped on your signature scowl, the one that made him fall for you in the first place. “The pretty lady recommends that you stop holding up the line so she can get to the other customers who actually know what they want.” 

Hiding his smirk, Enzo feigned surprise as a dejected Mattheo plopped down across from him. “Merlin, that was brutal. Is the barista always this mean? I complimented her pins and she stared at me like I’d grown an extra head.” 

“Y/N isn’t really a people person,” Enzo supplied. 

“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo tapped his fingers on the counter. “Let’s just get to class before I embarrass myself any further.”

“That’s probably for the best,” replied Enzo. 

Ignoring Mattheo’s glare, Enzo packed up his laptop and put his tray away. He followed his mate through the throng of people, which had thinned out once more. They were a few steps away from the door when you called out his name. With a raised brow, you held out a pink box. Enzo smiled sheepishly in return. He couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten the dessert of the day. 

“One lemon berry scone. Less tart, per your critique last week.” He took the box from your hands, blushing furiously when your fingers brushed against his. “Have a good class, peach.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll have your full report ready tomorrow.” 

“You better.” Enzo nearly dropped the box when you winked at him. “Later, Berkshire.” 

Smiling to himself, Enzo came face to face with a gaping Mattheo. “For Salazar’s sake, it’s like I don’t even exist.” He muttered before breaking out into a grin. “No wonder my moves had no effect. Mate, she obviously fancies you.” 

Enzo’s cheeks immediately heated as he pushed out into the quad. “What? No. Y/N and I are just really good friends.” 

“Now I understand why you come here so often,” Mattheo remarked. “If the mean hot barista plied me with baked goods and called me peach, I’d be coming here every day.” 

“It's an inside joke about my drink order..." Enzo tried to explain. "The point is, Y/N isn’t mean. She’s actually really nice.” 

“Yeah, because she likes you.” 

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Does too.” Mattheo countered. “Why else would she bake you a scone?” 

“She wants to own a bakery someday. Obviously, that means she needs someone to test her recipes out on,” Enzo explained. “It’s how we became friends.” 

“Right,” Mattheo said with a shit eating grin. “Friends.” 

Enzo rolled his eyes. “Can we just please get to class?” 

“Whatever you say, peach.” 

“I have a theory,” Mattheo announced. 

Enzo sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Not this again, mate.” 

The rest of their friends perked up, abandoning their laptop screens and textbooks in favor of the newest piece of gossip. The little corner of the library that their group had claimed was fairly quiet, which was supposed to be optimal for revising, but Mattheo couldn’t seem to let his conspiracy theory go. He'd been badgering Enzo about it for a week.

“Berkshire here refuses to believe me, but I have it on good authority that Y/N has a crush on him. 

“Y/N,” Theo started, “You mean his mean barista friend? She’s proper fit.” 

“Don’t call her fit,” Enzo replied rather defensively. 

“A little touchy there, Berkshire.” Regulus said with a chuckle. “Is that jealousy I sense?” 

“For the millionth time, Y/N and I are just friends.” 

“Is that the same friend that makes all those tasty pastries for you?” Draco asked with a raised brow. “I’ve seen the cute little notes she leaves for you posted all around your dorm. With the adorable kiss prints and hearts. Seems to me like Mattheo’s right. Y/N’s sweet on you, cousin.” 

“Do me a favour and stop being a snooping twat, cousin.” Enzo retorted with a frown. “Y/N’s just being nice. It’s what friends do.”

“None of my mates have ever gone out of their way to bake me a bloody thing,” Blaise declared in feigned offense as he wrapped an arm around Pansy. 

“Yes, well, none of your mates even know where the oven is located, let alone how to operate it,” replied his girlfriend. Pansy smiled at Enzo. “Besides, I think their friendship is sweet.” 

“Thanks, Pans.” 

“So you don’t fancy Y/N?” Theo asked. Enzo opened his mouth then closed it. He was well aware that his friend was baiting him, but he refused to fall into Theo’s trap. 

“Like I said, we’re friends.” 

“In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I asked for her number, right?” 

As a matter of fact, Enzo did fucking mind. He minded very much. Too much, probably. But he couldn’t very well say that out loud. Instead, he masked his scowl and returned his attention to revising. 

“Knock yourself out, mate.” 

Theo smirked. “Alright then, let’s go.” 

“Go where?” Enzo asked disinterestedly, flipping through his study sheet for Latin. 

“To Deja Brew,” Theo replied smugly. “We all need a study break, anyways.” 

“You want to go there? Right now?” With each question, Enzo’s death grip tightened on his notes. “To ask for Y/N’s number?” 

“That shouldn’t be a problem, right? In fact, maybe you could introduce us.” 

Enzo would rather walk on hot coals. “I think I'll pass. I've already seen her turn Mattheo down and that was brutal enough as it is. I don’t need an encore.”

“Riddle’s probably not her type.” 

Mattheo frowned, crossing his arms. “I’m everyone’s type.” 

Theo chuckled. “Apparently not hers. Perhaps she’d prefer a handsome Italian, no?” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “In your dreams, Nott.” 

“Now I’m intrigued,” exclaimed Blaise. “I’d never miss an opportunity to witness Theodore get humbled. Are you sure you’re ready for a woman like Y/N, Nott?” 

“Please,” Theo scoffed. “I was born ready.” 

Against his will, Enzo found himself at Deja Brew ten minutes later. In his usual corner by the window, he brooded like a petulant child. This was a horrible, terrible, and idiotic idea. All he wanted to do was revise and now his study session had been hijacked just so he could watch Theo flirt with the girl he fancied. 

“You know, you can put a stop to this any time you’d like,” Mattheo said in a sing-songy voice. “Just admit that my theory is right. Y/N has a crush on you and I’m willing to bet that the feeling is mutual. Isn’t it, Berkshire?” 

Enzo crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. Instead of giving into Mattheo’s childish pursuits, he opened his laptop and pretended to be immersed with Russian translations. 

“Have it your way, Enzo.” Regulus declared, nodding towards the register. “Nott’s about to give us a show.” 

As irritated as he was with his friends, Enzo couldn’t tear his gaze away. Theo marched up to the counter with swagger and confidence, slipping on his signature smirk. You looked up from your phone screen, giving the tall and lanky boy a sweeping gaze. The unenthused expression on your face screamed that you weren’t at all impressed.

“Y/N, is it?” Theo drawled, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron. “A pretty name for a pretty lady.” 

“Thanks,” you deadpanned. “My parents gave it to me. Now what can I get started for you?” 

“Aren’t you going to ask me for my name?” 

“I know who you are,” you replied dismissively. “One of Enzo’s friends, right? I heard about your little stunt in the fountain. You know, December’s not really a smart time to go skinny dipping.” Theo flushed as your eyes trailed down to his crotch. “Certain parts shrivel in the cold, Nott.” 

“I assure you, my parts were perfectly intact.” 

“That’s not what Katie Bell said,” you countered, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “I believe I heard something about shrinkage.” Theo opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. “I’ll tell you what, Theodore. Why don’t I fix you up a cappuccino? It’ll help keep you and your parts warm and cozy.” 

Enzo bit his lip to keep himself from bursting into laughter. The rest of his friends snickered as they watched a dejected Theo return to the table. 

Regulus snorted as he sat back down in defeat. “Merlin, that was hard to watch. Absolutely brutal, really.” 

Theo glared at Regulus in response. “I’d like to see you do better, Black.” 

Regulus winked. “Watch and learn, boys.” 

The older boy had about as much luck as Theo. Though the attempts had put him in a foul mood at first, Enzo was absolutely elated as he watched you turn down his friends. Regulus received an eye roll while Draco reeled from the head to toe once-over that humbled the absolute hell out of him. 

“It’s useless,” his cousin mumbled. “She hates everyone.” 

“Or maybe Y/N just doesn’t appreciate random blokes chatting her up while she’s trying to do her job,” Pansy said with an eye roll. 

“Oh bloody hell, here she comes.” Regulus muttered under his breath. “I don’t think my ego can take another hit.” 

The boys cowered as you came closer, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Instead, you set a fresh mug of tea and a lemon scone down in front of Enzo. 

“Last one, I promise. It’s finally perfect this time.” 

“You said that the last three times,” Enzo said with a chuckle. “They were all brilliant, by the way. Not that you listen to my well crafted reviews.” 

“You say that about everything I make, Enz. Honestly, a girl bakes you a couple of treats and suddenly I’m the best thing since sliced bread.” 

“I’m just being honest,” he replied with a shrug. “You couldn’t bake a single bad pastry if you tried.” 

“I’d like to try a pastry,” Mattheo interjected. 

You tore your attention away from Enzo. The smile that you reserved for him transformed into a scowl, your entire body language turning stern. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?” 

“Riddle,” Mattheo supplied. “Mattheo Riddle.” 

“Right,” you said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “My pastries aren’t for sale. You’re more than welcome to try the day-old brownie behind the counter though. If you can manage to chew through it.” 

Mattheo sputtered, but you paid no mind to his aghast expression. Enzo fought the urge to kiss you right then and there. 

“Closing again tonight?” he asked, ignoring the blatant stares from the rest of his friends. 

“Unfortunately. Diggory bailed again. Probably too busy snogging Cho to come in for his shift,” you said with an eye roll. 

“Leave those lovebirds alone,” Enzo quipped back. “They’re in their honeymoon phase.” 

“I can’t for the life of me understand how they aren’t sick of each other by now.” 

“That’s because you’re a mean old grump.” You glared at him, which only made Enzo smile. “Luckily for you, that doesn’t deter me. I’ll come keep you company if you want. I promise to be way more entertaining than Cedric.” 

“It’s not a hard task to accomplish, but I’ll take you up on it nonetheless.” 

“I thought you might say that,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll meet you back here after my last class. Pad Thai tonight?” 

You nodded and grinned back. “This is why you’re my favorite, peach.” 

The boys gaped as you ruffled his hair in parting. They waited until you were out of earshot before launching into a tirade. 

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“Just friends my arse.”

“I can’t believe she actually smiled at you!” 

“It’s strange how treating Y/N like an actual human being instead of pestering her while she’s trying to work yields such positive results,” Pansy retorted. “I think you all need to start following Enzo’s example. Clearly he’s had more success than you lot.” 

Blaise patted Enzo on the back. “Mate, you might be the most oblivious bloke in all of Britain, but you’d have to be an absolute knobhead not to see what’s right in front of you.” 

He hummed in response, glancing up at the exact same time that your gaze met his from across the room. You winked, making him blush furiously. Merlin, you were pretty. It was honestly unfair. Maybe Zabini was onto something.

When it came to you, even Enzo had to agree that he was a total and absolute knobhead.

Later that night, Enzo helped you clear the plates and mugs as the last customers trickled out of Deja Brew. The soft sounds of your perfectly curated playlist trickled over the speakers as you flipped the sign to closed. He watched with a small smile as you hopped up onto the counter and beckoned him over. The fairy lights twinkled above the ceiling, illuminating your smile as Enzo took his place next to you. 

The sight of you grinning up at him tugged at his heartstrings. There were coffee stains on your jeans and apron, your thick hair was falling out of its braid, and a cold bowl of Pad Thai awaited in your lap and yet he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. 

“Aren’t you glad Cedric bailed?” Enzo teased, knocking his shoulder with yours. “Now you get to enjoy cold noodles with your favorite person.” 

You chuckled, nudging him back. “I suppose this is nicer than listening to Diggory ramble on about Quidditch. It’s always bludger this, bludger that. I honestly considered bludgeoning him myself.” 

“To be fair, the man could merely breathe and you’d still find a way to be annoyed by it.” 

“No one needs to inhale that much oxygen.”

“I rest my case, you mean old grump.” 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “You know, if anyone else called me that I’d poke their eye out with a fork.” Enzo chuckled as you stabbed into your bowl of noodles. “Besides, I have every right to be grumpy. It’s been a long day. Thanks to your incessant little friends.” 

“I’m sorry about the guys,” he said earnestly. “I tried to talk them out of flirting with you, but they’ve got this crazy theory.” 

“Oh?” You asked, raising a brow. “What’s the theory, then?” 

Enzo flushed, avoiding your gaze. “They uh…” He cleared his throat and stared at his shoes. “They think you fancy me.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe they’re not idiots after all. Your friends are right. I do fancy you.” 

White noise rushed through his ears. Enzo’s mouth fell open as he met your gaze. Surely, he hadn’t heard you correctly. 

“You alright there, peach?” 

“You…” Enzo trailed off, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You like me?” 

You chuckled. “I have for a bit. Thanks for finally noticing.” 

“How?” Enzo muttered. “What?” He cocked his head, trying to search for the proper words. “Why?” 

At the moment, it appeared that one syllable words were the full extent of his vocabulary. All those languages in his head and yet he couldn’t form a single coherent sentence. 

“Enz, I know your drink order by heart,” you explained softly. “I make you cupcakes and muffins. I write you notes every day. I thought I made myself pretty obvious.” 

“Gods,” he breathed, silently reprimanding himself. “I really am the most oblivious bloke in Britain.” Enzo licked his lips, turning over to look at you. “I just thought you were being nice.” 

“Lorenzo, when have I ever been nice to anyone?” 

“I am a bloody idiot.” 

“You never made a move, so I just thought you didn’t see me that way. Which is fine, by the way. I don’t mind being friends.” 

Enzo turned so fast he nearly smacked into the register. “Are you kidding? I’ve had a crush on you for months. You’re the best part of my day. Waking up and knowing that I get to see you every morning is the only thing that gets me out of bed.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You’re out of my league. You’re smart and funny and not to mention way too cool. Honestly, I thought you’d go for someone like Mattheo or Theo or literally anyone else but me. Someone a little more…” he trailed off, waving a hand over you. 

“Scary?” 

“No! Well, yes. Someone more confident and intimidating.” 

“Bad boys aren’t really my type.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “They’re not?” 

“No,” you said, setting down your food and turning over to face him. “My type is a nerdy linguistics major who teaches me how to curse in six different languages and who makes cute little conjugation charts and orders drinks that should quite frankly classify as a dessert.” 

Enzo’s smile grew wider. "I like you too, you know. A lot. Like, embarrassingly so. With your grumpy little scowl and all black wardrobe and dry humor. I like all of it."

You beamed as Enzo leaned closer, tracing your lips like he was trying to commit the curves of your smile to his memory. His heart pounded in his chest as your eyes flickered up to meet his.

"Then kiss me like you mean it, Enzo."

Despite your confidence, the air left your lungs as soon as Enzo cradled your face in his hands. The twinkling lights made his brown eyes shimmer like pools of honey in the dark. The tension stretched between you as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing yours ever so gently. They briefly closed around yours—tasting, testing, taunting. Then the dam broke free.

Enzo pressed you closer and kissed you like his life depended on it. You smiled against his lips, melting into his touch as he tilted your head back for more. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as Enzo sighed into your mouth, his lips molding perfectly against yours. The once shy and experimental kisses turned needy and passionate, making you feel slightly lightheaded. Enzo savored your soft sighs, kissing you over and over again to elicit more.

It wasn't until you felt like the air had been depleted from your lungs when he finally relented. He pressed his forehead against yours, noses brushing as you both grinned at each other. It felt right to be this close. It felt like you were made to do this all along. Enzo brushed his thumb over your cheek, looking dazed as he pulled back to look at you. 

“It’s about time, Berkshire.” 

“Hey,” Enzo grumbled, pecking at your lips. “You can’t blame me. I couldn’t even look at you without blushing and making a fool of myself. You’re so intimidating.” 

“Not so scary now, am I?” 

“Oh no, I’m still terrified of you. But I’ve also seen you cry during the Notebook, so I know that deep down inside, you’re just a big softie.” 

You started to protest, but Enzo just leaned in and kissed you again. With his lips pressed against yours, you couldn’t even remember what you were about to say. As he pulled you into his lap, you heard cheers coming from outside. Behind the glass window, his friends were cheering and wolf-whistling rather obnoxiously on the street. 

Enzo responded by flicking them off and kissing you even harder, pressing your bodies together as you giggled. He hauled you to your feet, his arms circling around your waist as he dipped you for a better angle. Your back hit the counter as you raised to your tiptoes, winding your arms around his neck and mussing up his hair as you arched for more. The hollering only grew more incessant when Enzo grabbed your ass and squeezed. The groan that escaped from his mouth made you dizzy with desire.

If one kiss could elicit such a response out of you, it was almost scary to think what else Enzo had in his arsenal. A cheeky little smile curved against his lips as though he knew exactly what you were thinking. You basked under the warmth of his gaze, feeling flushed and flustered. That pretty face had you entirely fooled. Enzo was far from innocent.

“Gods, I really fucking fancy you.”

With a smile, you kissed the tip of his nose. “I really fucking fancy you too, peach.” 

Despite the many languages in Enzo's arsenal, no phrase or saying could convey how he felt better than his lips against yours. Maybe he hadn't quite mastered the language of love, but he had a feeling that you'd be more than willing to teach him.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟼𝚔 || 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (PART 3)

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: The constant tours, postponed dates, and then Sirius again leaving for a tour makes you realize you couldn't do it.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Angst

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: rockstar!Sirius Black x reader

♡ ꜱᴏɴɢ: Miss you by Louis Tomlinson

♡ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ : part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Your phone buzzed on the edge of your bed, but you barely glanced at it, too absorbed in the headlines splashed across the screen of your laptop. They were everywhere. Sirius and the boys—James, Remus, and Peter—dominating every tabloid, every music blog, every gossip site.

"Black Dog Hits Number One—Sirius Black and His Band Soar to New Heights!" "The Wild Nights of Sirius Black: Partying Hard and Playing Harder!" "Black Dog Goes Viral—Is There Anything They Can’t Do?"

You scrolled through the pictures. Sirius with a guitar slung over his shoulder, grinning in that effortlessly charming way that always made your heart skip. James with a drink raised high, Remus laughing at something off-camera, and Peter surrounded by people who adored them. They looked happy. They looked fine.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you closed your laptop, the screen going dark. It had been four months since you’d broken up with Sirius, four months of trying to bury yourself in music, in anything that could distract you from the gaping hole his absence had left in your life.

Except, there was one problem.

You hadn’t written a single song in those four months. Not one.

Every time you sat down with your guitar or opened your notebook, the words just wouldn’t come. You’d strum a chord, hum a melody, but it all felt wrong. Your creativity had dried up, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to make music.

It was torture. Your fans still loved you—still sent messages, flooded your social media with support, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were failing them. You were failing yourself.

And yet, Sirius? He was thriving. He was out there, living the life you thought you’d both wanted, playing sold-out shows, going viral with every new performance. The universe hadn’t even paused for him—it had catapulted him forward.

Your phone buzzed again, snapping you out of your thoughts. With a sigh, you picked it up and saw Remus’s name flash across the screen. You hesitated for a moment before opening the message.

Remus: Hey, Y/N. You asked how Sirius was. He’s great. Everything’s good.

Great. Good.

The words echoed in your mind, stinging more than they should. Why was that hurting so much? You were the one who ended things. You were the one who said you couldn’t handle it anymore. You should have been relieved that Sirius was doing well, moving on with his life, living the dream.

But instead, it felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

You threw your phone aside, groaning as you collapsed onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. You didn’t know why it hurt this much. Maybe you hadn’t fully prepared yourself for what it would feel like to see Sirius everywhere—thriving while you were stuck in some emotional quicksand, unable to move forward, unable to create, unable to let go.

Your mind spiraled. You kept replaying that night, over and over again. The argument, the way Sirius had looked at you, the door slamming as he left. You thought you’d made the right choice. Long distance wasn’t working, the endless tours had pulled you apart, and you were tired of the constant ache of missing him.

But now? Now, it just felt like you’d ripped a piece of yourself away and you were left trying to figure out how to function without it.

And now Remus’s message confirmed it—Sirius was fine. He had moved on. Maybe that should’ve been enough for you to do the same. Maybe you needed to finally face the fact that it was over.

Really over.

You swallowed hard, trying to push down the emotions rising in your throat. Maybe it was time to stop overthinking everything, stop wallowing in what could’ve been. Sirius wasn’t going to come back, and you couldn’t keep living in this limbo.

If he was thriving, then you had to, too.

You pushed yourself up, wiping your hands across your face. You hadn’t touched your guitar in weeks. Maybe now was the time. It wouldn’t be easy, but nothing ever was. You could sit here and overthink everything—overthink how Sirius had moved on, how you hadn’t written anything in months, how you couldn’t seem to shake this endless feeling of failure—or you could get up and do what you did best.

You could write.

Taking a deep breath, you reached for your guitar, fingers grazing the familiar strings. The weight of it in your hands felt both comforting and foreign after so long. But this was your safe place—music. No matter how lost you felt, it had always been your anchor.

You strummed the first chord, the soft hum filling the empty room. It wasn’t much, just a simple melody, but it was enough. Enough to make you feel like maybe you weren’t as stuck as you thought. Maybe you could create again, even if the process was slow and painful.

Maybe you could find yourself again.

The words came slowly at first, tentative and unsure, but they were there. They were always there, waiting for you to reach out and take them. This song wouldn’t be about him, not entirely. It would be about you—about letting go, about finding your way back to yourself. About all the things you’d been too scared to admit, even to yourself.

And as you started to write, for the first time in months, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could move on.

[cera-writes]

Heyo saw you were taking requests for Gambit and I'm deathly starved for content of our favorite cajun could I request something really fluffy maybe Remy taking us to the french quarter and going to cafe du monde for beignets and taking touristy pics in front of the st Louis just light hearted fun 😊 anyway love your writing and hope you keep it up!

I love this idea! I literally went to New Orleans again over the weekend and it's fresh off my memory so this was a fun idea to write <3 Pairing: Remy LeBeau x Reader Prompt: Remy shows reader a fun, cute time in the French Quarter.

A walk Around the Quarter

The air hung thick with the scent of chicory coffee and powdered sugar, drawing Remy LeBeau and you deeper into the bustling heart of the French Quarter. The vibrant hues of Creole cottages and wrought iron balconies blurred past as Remy, ever the charming guide, navigated the labyrinthine streets with practiced ease. Each corner turned revealed a new treasure: a hidden courtyard overflowing with blooming jasmine, a street musician coaxing soulful melodies from a weathered saxophone, the tantalizing aroma of Cajun spices wafting from an open doorway.

"Welcome, cher," Remy announced with a flourish as you both emerged into the sun-drenched plaza fronting the iconic St. Louis Cathedral. "The crown jewel of New Orleans, and the perfect backdrop for our first touristy snapshot."

He winked and produced a camera seemingly from thin air, capturing your smiles against the majestic facade. Then, with a playful tug, he led you towards your ultimate destination.

"Prepare yourself," Remy warned with a grin. "For a taste of pure, unadulterated bliss."

Cafe du Monde, a bastion of beignet-fueled delight, awaited. The air thrummed with the lively chatter of patrons and the rhythmic clatter of trays laden with the irresistible pastries. Remy secured a coveted table, its marble top already dusted with a generous layer of powdered sugar. A street performer, drawn by your laughter, serenaded you both with a jaunty tune on his accordion, adding a touch of whimsy to the already enchanting atmosphere.

"Three beignets, s'il vous plait," Remy requested with a practiced charm that had the waitress returning in record time.

The beignets arrived, a trio of golden-brown pillows, their airy centers promising a symphony of flavor. Remy, a connoisseur of the finer things, demonstrated the proper technique: a delicate pinch, a generous dip in the accompanying mound of powdered sugar, and a bite that elicited a satisfied sigh.

"C'est magnifique, non?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with delight.

The afternoon unfolded in a leisurely haze of powdered sugar and laughter. You strolled through Jackson Square, admiring the vibrant works of local artists, and paused to listen to the soulful melodies of a street musician. Remy, ever the entertainer, even tried his hand at juggling, much to the amusement of onlookers. A horse-drawn carriage clopped past, its passengers waving merrily, and Remy couldn't resist doffing his hat with a flourish.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the Quarter, Remy and you found yourselves back at the St. Louis Cathedral. The plaza was bathed in a soft, ethereal light, creating a scene of undeniable romance. The street lamps flickered to life, casting dancing shadows on the ancient walls, and the distant sound of jazz music drifted on the breeze.

"One last photo, cher?" Remy asked, his voice a low murmur.

He captured the moment, your silhouettes framed against the cathedral's illuminated spires.

"But the night is still young," Remy said with a wink. "Care to hear some real New Orleans music?"

He led you down a dimly lit alley, the sound of a saxophone growing louder with each step. You emerged into a smoky jazz club, the air pulsating with the rhythm of the music. Remy took your hand and led you to the dance floor, where you twirled and swayed to the infectious beat. The music wrapped around you, a tapestry of notes and emotions, and you lost yourself in the moment, in Remy's eyes, in the magic of the night.

As the final notes faded, Remy pulled you close. "Merci," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "For sharin' dis perfect day with Remy."

The French Quarter, with its vibrant tapestry of sights, sounds, and flavors, had woven its magic. And at its heart, amidst the beignets, laughter, and the rhythm of the jazz, a connection had blossomed, leaving a trail of unforgettable memories in its wake.

[dailytomlinson]

I am beyond devastated to be writing this but yesterday I lost a brother. Liam was somebody I looked up to everyday, such a positive, funny, and kind soul. I first met Liam when he was 16 and I was 18, I was instantly amazed by his voice but more importantly as time went on I got a chance to see the kind brother l'd longed all my life for. Liam was an incredible song writer with a great sense of melody, we often spoke of getting back in the studio together to try and recreate the writing chemistry we had built up in the band. And for the record, Liam was in my opinion the most vital part of One Direction. His experience from a young age, his perfect pitch, his stage presence, his gift for writing. The list goes on. Thank you for shaping us Liam. A message to you Liam if you're listening, I feel beyond lucky to have had you in my life but I'm really struggling with the idea of saying goodbye. I'm so grateful that we got even closer since the band, speaking on the phone for hours, reminiscing about all the thousands of amazing memories we had together is a luxury I thought I'd have with you for life. I would have loved to share the stage with you again but it wasn't to be. I want you to know that if Bear ever needs me I will be the Uncle he needs in his life and tell him stories of how amazing his dad was. I wish I got chance to say goodbye and tell you one more time how much I loved you. Payno, my boy, one of my best friends, my brother, I love you mate. Sleep well X

Louis

[holorform2009]

WARNING: body impaled mentioned, death mentioned, you died. If you are uncomfortable stop reading this.

If there is Brud!reader...

Then I will make another sprunki reader!

Which is Sky!reader!

if you're confused, I'm talking about a sprunki who had a color of sky blue, that is why his name is sky. I did a little bit of research and found out his age is actually 14 which means he is the youngest of all sprunkies out there. And I also found out that he likes to collects teddy bear, no wonder he has bear ears.

So what I'm gonna do is make another platonic yandere DC x Sky!reader.

And yes, you still have a music syndrome.

Because I never seen sky spoke in a full sentences.

So anyway!

your noise or the way you spoke to people that is none sprunki is a music box. (I search sprunki Wikipedia)

They tried to communicate you to try and understand you better but since you kept singing that noise repeatedly they do not understand you, because they thought you singing in Morse code but they were wrong.

Well that's because you have a music syndrome! And can not speak normally.

I imagined it was Tim who is trying to understand your... 'language' but then he gives up because it's not close to a Morse code.

The only person who can understand you is Richard Grayson. Why? Because he can read your body language, as your expression tells everything. Actions spoke louder actually paid it off.

But would it be funny it was John Kent who can understand your music language? Imagine when Damien tried speaking to you and you respond with a noise of a music box out if your throat, he looked at John asking for a translation. "They said 'Are you the demon spawn that Jason keeps mentioning about?' "

And what's more funny Sad? What happens if you die?

Since sky didn't make it in horror version.

This will turn into an angst.

John Kent was looking for his friend, he was worried about them. The last time he saw them was at the Toy store. He asked for Damien to help find them as his eyes was filled with tears and Damien agreed to help him. It's been one week. And you were no where to be found.

John was filled with panic, fear, and anxious. Damien tried his best to calm his best friend down as John is in the verge of breakdown. Where were you?

He asked his Father, Clark. To help them both find their friend, his father agreed and Clark asked Bruce for help too.

At this point every heroes and vigilantes are involved in finding you. Unfortunately... They failed to look for you. John can not accept that his friend Sky!reader is dead. He cried in his bed as Louis and Clark looked at each other, worried and guilt written in their face. Both of them tried to comfort their son, not successfully doing so. Because he kept crying for his friend.

Until one night, Damien called John, telling him to come and meet him at the abandoned warehouse. He wants to show him something...

John flies towards the abandoned warehouse that is given by Damien current location. When he came, he stepped closer to his best friend and was about to ask him what did he want to show him something. But stopped when he saw his missing friend impaled by four rods in their body... One rod is through the middle of their skull to their chin, one through their chest, one through their ear, and one through their left eye socket. Blood is dripping through their neck, right eye, and right ear.

He explained to John that he was on a patrol but when he heard a music box that sounded like Sky!reader, instead of a soft and high pitched melody of a music box it's sounded menacing now. He quickly followed to where the sound came from inside the abandoned warehouse only for him to stop in his track and horrified at the sight of them impaled by four rods. Their eyes make contact with Damien before their light in their eyes slowly faded.

It was too late for him to save them...

And right now, you are no longer singing that sound anymore. Because you are dead. And now... John's eyes was filled with tears as he started sobbing once more at the sight of their dead body in from of him, seeing their friend like this... Hurts him.

Rains started to pour down hard, John and Damien and their families gathered together at your funeral, saying their goodbyes and farewell for you.

It hurts them knowing that you were young when you died, you were only 14. The same age as John and Damien. Now that you are gone. He wasn't the same anymore... John is always the happy boy, always the sunshine, and now... His smile is upsidedown.

Damien tried to cheer him up. Key word: "tried to" he is not the best at comforting ok? At least he tried. He promised to John that he will find whoever murdered their friend and when he captured the murderer, he'll let John do whatever he wants to do with the murderer.

Be it, kill them, punch, laser them, do what ever he want if Damien finally captured the culprit to who ever killed their poor friend.

He will keep that promise.

He swear to his best friend he will.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Hazbin Having Blues

ALASTOR x READER Summary: You and Alastor hate each other in every respect. But what if something did help you get along? Warnings: NONE. This is kind of a backstory for my fic 'Only for You' based on the line "how you get got along in the first place" and inspired by @anon-of-the-void Requests are still open!!

The Hazbin Hotel was a bustling haven for lost souls seeking redemption, but amidst the chaos and colorful characters, a particularly unique dynamic brewed between Alastor, the Radio Demon, and the new arrival…you. 

The animosity between you and Alastor was palpable since day one, with every interaction echoing with sharp, witty remarks that cut through the air like daggers.The constant banter between you both created an uncomfortable atmosphere within the hotel, much to the dismay of the optimistic and ever-hopeful Charlie. Despite the young Moringstar’s best efforts to foster a sense of unity and camaraderie, the stalemate in this war of words persisted.  Alastor, with his charismatic and devilish charm, found himself enjoying to harp down upon what he saw to be a gross naivety and unmannerly conduct. Meanwhile, you were a soul unafraid to stand up to the radio demon's antics, viewing him as nothing more than a pompous and insufferable presence. 

Simply, Alastor and yourself had developed a fierce dislike for each other. The verbal sparring matches were legendary within the walls of the hotel, often leaving other residents uncomfortable and seeking refuge from the bickering.

Insulting conversations include but are not limited to: 

“Well, well, if it isn't the radio demon himself. Did you run out of jazz records to torture people with?” “Ah, my dear, I always save the best tunes for special occasions. Unlike your taste in humor.”

“Look who decided to join the conversation. Are you here to dazzle us with your sparkling personality?” “Better than your attempt at a fashion statement. Monochromatic stripes, Al? Even Hell has standards.”

“Heard you like to play games, Alastor. How about a round of ‘Guess What My Expression Means’?” “My, my, how thrilling. I'll start: my face means I'm thoroughly unimpressed by your attempts at banter.”

“You know, Y/N, they say laughter is the best medicine. Too bad it can't cure your lack of charm.” “And they say pride goes before a fall. How's the weather down there, high and mighty?”

One evening, however, something changed.

As Alastor wandered the halls, his keen senses picked up on a faint sound emanating from your room. The unmistakable notes of a trumpet played with soulful precision, and a voice as smooth as molasses crooned lyrics that resonated with a timeless elegance. Intrigued, Alastor pressed his ear against the door. Deciding that was not enough, he slunk into the shadows and appeared in the room behind you. 

Inside, you sat alone(you thought you were alone at least) immersed in the soothing melodies of Louis Armstrong's "West End Blues." and Etta James “Bye Bye Blackbird” on LPs for the record player you had thrifted. The soulful and jazzy tunes seemed to transport you to another world, away from the chaos of the hotel. Unbeknownst to you, Alastor found himself captivated by the same enchanting spell. 

Alastor found himself captivated by the soulful notes. He couldn't help but appreciate the musical talent behind the song. He couldn't deny the care and emotion woven into each note, and for the first time, Alastor recognized something within you that transcended the ongoing feud. That something he wasn’t quite sure what it was but it was…different. Yes, the songs had come out in 1928 and 1926 respectively, he was alive when they graced the radio waves for the first time. Often finding himself tapping along to a beat in Mimzy’s lounge back then. How did you come to know something of such class when he found you to be a peasant in most respects? 

But instead of announcing his presence with a snide remark, Alastor leaned against the doorframe, silently appreciating the moment. When the final notes faded away, he couldn't help but admit with a slow clap, "Not bad, Y/N. Not bad at all."

You, startled by his unexpected appearance, yelped and eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing in my room, radio head?!"

Alastor smirked, his usual air of arrogance softened by a newfound appreciation. "Just thought I'd acknowledge the good taste when I hear it. That Armstrong fellow knows how to play a mean trumpet."

Raising an eyebrow, you were surprised by the change in tone. "Yeah…what about it?"

“Nothing my dear, simply acknowledging. You may not be such a ducky afterall.” Slinking back into the shadows, Alastor disappeared as quickly as he had come. 

You were taken aback but managed a nod of acknowledgment. The tension between the two of you began to ease as Alastor, in his own peculiar way, had found common ground through music. 

From that day forward, the interactions shifted. While the witty banter persisted, there was a newfound respect lingering in the air, as if the shared appreciation for timeless jazz classics had bridged an unexpected connection between two souls trapped in the chaotic tapestry of the Hazbin Hotel.

Over time, the insults became less frequent, replaced by a begrudging mutual respect. The other residents were astounded by the change, especially Charlie, who believed her intervention had led to a surprising connection between two seemingly incompatible souls.(My apologies dear Morningstar, trust falls and all…simply not the case.)

As Alastor and you had found a shared appreciation for music, discovering that beneath demonic exteriors, there was more to each other than met the eye. Alastor often found himself up in his radio tower, listening to the jazzy tunes he knew would draw you in. And like a very good little pet, as he liked to call you, you would climb the stairs and sit next to him in silence. Listening and tapping your foot along to the beat, only to leave a few hours later. As the time went on, a few weeks or so, conversation slowly filtered into the listening sessions. Turns out…maybe both of your distastes for each other might not have completely founded. Not that you would ever admit that to his face, nor him to yours.  

The Hazbin Hotel, once filled with discord, became a place where even the most unlikely friendships could blossom. And maybe, just maybe dear reader, that friendship could be something more. Alastor did look good in monochromatic stripes anyway. 

[mydearesthrry]

A Compilation of Y/nrry on Stage - h.s.

a/n: self indulgent, once again. been watching a couple of old 1d concert vids lately and this just came to me like i think i wrote all of this in about 20 mins? enjoyyyyyyy

🎀 warnings/cw: nothing, fluff, cursing?

🐇 pairing: 1dbandmember!yreader x fratboyera!harry

💐 wc: 1.2k

summary: 3 moments during the take me home tour where ynrry shined through on stage.

Y/N could sense mischief from a mile away. From the second the fans screamed to looking over at where they were pointing, she knew she was fucked. Clad in a light pink shirt and crop top that only showed an inch about her torso, she tried to run away from Louis but the stilettos on her feet gave her no opportunity to. 

“Louis! Louis stop, don’t!” Her pleading seemingly wasn’t enough because, within a blink of an eye, she was drenched in cold water. The two of them immediately knew what this meant. 

It meant war. And she was determined to get all of her bandmates on her side to defeat Louis. 

At first, she tried running after him, but when she realized it was no use since he was so fast and she was in heels, she called Harry over and immediately told him to turn around and crouch to help her. Harry, who had seen the entire interaction, was immediately down and got down without question. She hopped up on his back, motioning at Zayn for him to throw her a water bottle, Harry immediately started running toward Harry. 

As he ran, her in-ear monitors made her remember that she was to sing soon, and she raised her mic to her lips, singing softly. “And if we get together, yeah get together, don’t let the pictures leave your phone! Do you guys think I can beat Louis?” She screamed, following her lyrics, giggling at the loud cheers from the crowd. Harry continued running, and Y/N looked down to see that Niall and Liam were running with them, water bottles in their hands as well. 

Louis glanced over his shoulder and saw them running after him, pulling a face and running away faster. Unfortunately, he was too slow, and they all eventually caught up to him. Zayn too, who was right behind him and making sure he didn’t run away. Liam and Niall caught Louis by his arms, holding him still so their best friend could get her revenge. Harry stalked over to them and set her down, Y/N still singing as she had Harry crack open her bottles. Giggles instead of melodies filled the stadium speakers as she poured the water over his head. The rest of the boys handed her their water, and she continued to pour water on Louis. 

“Paybacks a bitch, Tommo.” She grinned, grabbing him by the back of his neck and into a hug, pushing him away when their cue came in to start doing the rowing dance move. They all stood in a staggered line, laughing loudly while they danced. 

Everyone else flared away, but Harry stayed. He bent down, mouth close to her ear as he popped out her in-ear, and very softly, whispered, “Good job on your victory, Princess.”

—

The band sat in their respective spots, the soft guitar for Summer Love filtering through the air. In front of Harry, a little off to the side was Y/N, who had the brightest gleam in her eyes, admiring the crowd. It was during songs like these that she allowed herself to bask in the feeling of fame, one that often consumed and overwhelmed her. She giggled when she waved at a few fans and they started screaming and crying in response to her. She glanced over her shoulder to see if Harry had seen that, and smiled wider when she saw he already had a grin on his face. 

Raising the mic to his lips, he followed Zayn’s lyrics, and since Y/N was already looking over at him, she twisted on her bottom, being careful of her skirt. Her eyes traced all of Harry’s features, them being nearly enhanced due to the bright spotlights on him. Finishing his part of the first verse, his eyes flicked back to her, nose scrunching cutely. She blew a playful kiss back, laughing when his cheeks became overtaken by a pinkish hue. Jumping down from her spot, she walked over to the back of the stage to retrieve her phone, before jogging back to her spot, confusing Harry when she passed it and instead beelined for him. 

Plopping down next to him, she swiped on her phone until she got to the camera app, holding it up to be level with their faces. They pulled a couple of funny faces before she tossed her phone over to Liam and Niall to the right of her, who grabbed it with ease. They started snapping pictures too, Liam turning to face his back to the crowd, taking a selfie with them too. The mic was on her lips, and they motioned her to catch it, but she shook her head no. 

They tossed the phone back to her anyway, but she missed the catch and clenched her eyes shut, only for them to snap open again when she felt two taps on her thighs. Opening her eyes, she saw Harry grinning at her with a shit-eating grin, holding her phone in his hand. 

She rolled her eyes, grabbing it from him and unlocking it again. She pulled up her camera roll app, looking at the pictures of her and Harry. She smiled and set one of the funnier ones as her home screen background. She turned her phone to Harry, and he grinned at her, trying to subtly move his arm behind her back to rub it. Turning to him, she held up a hand to block the crowd from seeing what she was whispering into his ear. 

The crowd screamed when they saw this, but they would never know that the words she whispered into his ear were ‘I love you’.

—

 As Niall talked to the crowd, Y/N and Harry pulled their in-ears out of their ears to talk to each other, something that was extremely common at their concerts. 

“What d’you wanna order from the hotel when we get back? ‘M starving and I miss you. I feel like I’ve not seen you all day.” Harry said— shouted, knowing she could barely hear over the volume of the crowd. She turned around, shrugging her shoulders. Harry rolled his eyes, and she tiptoed, the heels on her feet not being enough to be able to reach his ears. 

“I‘ve been craving pizza since this morning, maybe that if they have it. We can cuddle when we get back to the hotel, but you have to shower, you’re all sweaty. As for the pizza,” She questioned in his ear. “I’m not sure what toppings yet, but maybe we can agree on some?” 

He nodded, giving a thumbs up, “Wanna join me in the shower?” She looked at him with an annoyed expression, but he had a boyish grin on his face.”‘M putting olives on the pizza.” 

“Oh, absolutely not, are you serious? Harry, that’s disgusting.” She pulled a face of disgust, putting her hand on his face to push him away. He had the biggest look of offense on his face, and she giggled. He didn’t get far from her push, only about 1 foot away. She laughed when she heard him scream ‘Say sorry!’, and she shook her head no. 

“You know I hate olives! I’m picking all of them off and giving them to you.” She grinned back, and he rolled his eyes again, but with the look he gave her, it was obvious that he would do anything for her.

[lottins-only]

I love you, it's ruining my life

Kylian X black!fem!reader

Author's Note: This is the first part of a childhood friends to lovers series I've planned. I'm new to this, so bear with me and let me know what you think!

  I. December 2012

Every evening after school, Y/N and Kylian would race to the park. Their bags slung over their shoulders, their laughs ringing across the paved path that led to the park that had been their stomping grounds since she could walk. Bondy was in the periphery, both literally and metaphorically, but childhood in the city as she remembered it was vibrant, fun, and inextricable from Kylian Mbappé. 

  At 12 years old, her lack of female friendships meant that she was a shadow to the neighborhood boys. Kylian was one of them; his mother Fayza, and her own mother had worked in the local primary school at the same time briefly, thus forging a strong and constant friendship. It had occurred to her as an adult that it must’ve been a deliberate step from Fayza to invite her to Kylian’s 12th birthday party, given her mothers concern at the time that she didn’t have many friends. It was true that she was largely friendless; she was shy, slow to open up, and had her nose in a book most of the time. But that birthday party changed everything. All of a sudden, the loud, energetic boy that lived and breathed football was her best friend.  And that was that. 

The sky was a dull gray on that cold December day. Y/N and Kylian made their way to one of multiple tall and imposing apartment buildings that littered Bondy, and that she and Kylian’s families shared. Their earlier kick about in the park with some of the kids from school had been cut short thanks to the biting cold. 

Y/N looked down at the cobblestones, softly humming a melody that had been stuck in her head all day. Beside her, she could hear Kylian bouncing his football, the rhythmic thud echoing softly. They were walking in tandem silently, as was routine for them. Y/N liked that about their friendship,  that she didn’t need to have to make conversation just for the sake of making conversation. 

“Ugh, not that One Direction song again” Kylian groaned. 

Y/N looked up, her breath forming little clouds in the chilly air. “Shut up, you know they’re awesome. How’d you even know it was their song I was humming?”

The tip of Kylian’s nose was adorably pink. “Maybe because you’ve been singing it all day? You know you’re never even gonna meet Zayn, let alone marry him”  

Y/N let out an indignant sigh. “Yes, I will! When he comes to Paris for their next concert, you’ll see. He’ll fall in love immediately and we’ll get married and move to England and have babies”

Kylian looked at her like she was crazy.

She continued, sighing dreamily. “ And then Harry, Liam, Louis and Niall will be my best friends”

It had been drizzling slightly as they walked but the intensity of the rain increased suddenly. Kylian pulled his jacket off and draped it over her head. 

“You’ll catch a cold if you don’t stay dry” he said softly, and her heart almost burst. Then, more loudly, he said, “Ok, let’s say you marry Zayn. You’re going to have to fly between England and Spain a lot to watch me play. Why go through that? I say you divorce him and come live in Madrid with me”

Y/N burst out laughing. “How are you so sure you’ll play for Real Madrid?”

“I know I will” he said matter of factly. “And I know you’ll be a really good doctor, doing really cool things”

It was true, she’d  wanted to work in healthcare for as long as she remembered. Her favorite subjects in school were math and biology, sometimes chemistry. Besides, she liked the idea of a noble calling. Y/N was never loud and bold about her dreams, not like he was. She was pleased that he remembered that detail about her she rarely mentioned.

“So, in Madrid we’ll have a really big house with a really big pool” He continued, grinning. “We’ll let Ethan stay over, but only occasionally.”

Y/N stayed silent,  not letting her mind fantasize about such a future. 

Inside the apartment building they shared, they raced up the stairs and paused on the landing of the second floor. This was where Y/N’s apartment was located, and where they usually said their goodbyes before Kylian bounded up the stairs to the 4th floor. 

“Well, I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Y/N tugged at the fraying straps of her backpack before abruptly wrapping Kylian up in a hug. There would be 10 days of Christmas break, and although they lived two floors away from each other, there was no guarantee that they would see each other during that time. She would miss him, she knew. In those almost 2 years since his birthday party, Y/N and Kylian had grown inseparable. The neighborhood aunties had nicknamed them “the twins”, since one was rarely seen without the other. 

Kylian instinctively hugged her back, before pulling away. A broad and uncontrollable smile spread on his face as his eyes flickered to the ground and then back up to her. “Um.. actually, I’m traveling tomorrow” He said it in a hushed tone, even though the floor was completely empty and there was no chance that someone was eavesdropping on their conversation. 

“Traveling where?” Y/N frowned. Kylian hadn’t mentioned any travel plans for the break before. 

“To Madrid” He said with a grin.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh! Are you visiting your cousin there?”

“No, No. I’m going to go see Real Madrid. I was invited by the club, well by Zidane, actually. Papa and I are flying out tomorrow. It was a birthday surprise, they told me this morning” The words rushed out hurriedly, and Y/N could tell he was excited. 

This wasn’t the first time Kylian was being courted by football clubs. He was one of Europe’s most promising talents, after all. Especially in the last two years, he’d miss a couple days out of school to go see clubs in England, Spain and other cities in France with his parents. She didn’t know what went on during the visits, but he would always come back with exciting stories and  a glint in his eye that would last for days and weeks. She knew this one would be different though. This was Real Madrid, the club in whose jersey he slept at night. This was his dream come true. 

Y/N squealed and wrapped Kylian in a tighter hug, before  pulling away and lightly shoving his shoulder. “Oh my god. Congratulations, Kylian! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

He grinned even more, shifting his weight from one leg to another. 

“I had to make sure it was real first” 

Y/N gave him an exaggerated frown.

“I’ll get you a souvenir from there. Something cool, I promise” He quickly said. 

She perked up at that before enveloping him in a third and final hug. “Have fun, okay. I know they’ll love you there” She murmured into his shoulder. They said their goodbyes and parted ways.

As she watched her best friend walk up the flight of stairs, it struck her:  this was it. Someday, he would go away and never come back. Bondy and everyone in it would just be a part of his origin story.

[fumikomiyasaki]

4 out of 16 Wedding pairs I will draw this month. I do this mainly cause my wedding will be end of the month and so this month will be weddingtember.

Juvia x Mellow @windbornearchon

I mainly oriented on that ask I answered before with their aestehtic. Nice view in a forrest looking place with Mellow being much taller and scarred a little from his monster form... still he tries his best to hold the Veil for both of them.

Louis x Melody @forestwispocs

I thought a sunflower wedding would be perfect for them. Giving Melody also a more orange like dress with a sunflower to contrast her being a sunshine to him while he went more casual thanks to her with Plaid pattern. Tyler probably helped with their outfits.

Gaius x Carol @terrovaniadorm

I wanted to give Carol a fairy nymph core so bad for her dress with this one... thanks to Gaius money she can live the dream. A nice tent Nature wedding seemed very fitting for them both, as well as he wears her favourite flower as a pin I thought was a sweet touch.

Fennec x Ellis @starry-night-rose

Man grew so much thanks to his adventures and now has to do his best to lean down to his wife. I went with your idea of enchanted forrest wedding and gave Ellis a princess dress as well as made Fennec more Prince like.. Fairy prince and Princess core was the main theme.

[leilani-lily]

~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 2)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Surprise! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ Another chapter already. I actually have three already written out, so I'll be posting the next one soon too. I hope you enjoy (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. You come to find the kitchen is an absolute mess, and there's no help in sight. Alastor catches you working and discovers something about you that's quite captivating. Word Count: 2 k

Chapter under the cut!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It didn’t take long before you were settled and secure at the hotel. Introductions were made, papers were signed and soon all your stuff was whisked into your new room at the hotel. It all seemed to happen in a blur, but you were happy for the fresh start. 

When you first came across the kitchen it… well, it needed some much needed TLC. Dried blood staining the walls, rusty, chipped knives, an oven covered in grime and the door on its hinges. It was dark, dirty, and smelled like rotting food (and maybe even rotting bodies? You didn’t want to think about it too much). Needless to say, you had your work cut out for you. But you knew you couldn’t do this without a little motivation.

After finally finding an outlet that worked, you plug in your trusty CD player. It was fraying a bit, and wasn’t in the best of shape, but it was one of your prized possessions. One of the first things you had bought for yourself when arriving in Hell. It was one of those machines that had a built-in alarm clock, and although you didn’t actually have any CD’s to play off it, it did come with a radio function that you abused more than the next person. It had soothed you many a lonesome night, and also pumped you up when you had work to do. With a fond smile, you set up your radio and flick through the channels before stopping at what sounded like a jazz station. Satisfied with the upbeat melody, you roll your sleeves up and get started on the deep clean.

You didn’t know how long you had been working for, 30 minutes, maybe even an hour or two. But it didn’t take long before a slither of a shadow snaked up the doorframe of the kitchen for the Radio Demon himself to emerge from the shadows. He had just been passing by when he had heard the sounds of a jazzy tune, accompanied by the sounds of a sultry voice. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he found himself here, watching you scrub on hands and knees at the tile floors. 

You were covered in dirt and dust, soapy water soaking the ends of your shirt and pants. You wiped a stray bead of sweat from your forehead as your cheeks shone a shade of red from all the hard work. In short summary, you were a mess. And yet somehow he didn’t seem all that put off by it, focusing on something far more interesting.

As the radio hummed out a static version of “What a Wonderful World”, your own voice harmonized with the deeper tone that was Louis Armstrong’s. You continued to toil away, not aware of the presence behind you and actually enjoying the work, but soon the music got the better of you, and you sat up to fully embrace it. Entranced by the song, you closed your eyes and crooned along to the lyrics, sometimes singing along with Louis, sometimes choosing to harmonize and add a personal spin to it. You couldn’t help but smile as the familiar chills ran up your spine when immersed in a good song and feeling one with the original performer. As the melody began to come to an end, you soften into almost a whisper and sit happily as the remaining instruments faded. The sound track of an applause and actual clapping burst from behind you.

“MARVELOUS! Bra-vo my darling!” 

You jumped up so high and fast, it made you slip on the soapy floor beneath you. You fumbled and landed on your bum facing Alastor, pants now soaked and your heart racing a mile a minute. The red demon began to step towards you, still clapping and looking surprisingly impressed.

“What a performance, such talent! Who knew such a voice was locked away, just waiting to soar like a songbird!”

With a twirl of his cane, he extended the tip end to you with a smile. You looked at it for a moment before realizing and grabbing onto it. With a strength you didn't realize he had, he helped to hoist you up to your feet.

“H-honestly Alastor. You can’t keep sneaking up behind me without warning. You’ll have to find another chef to replace me after I die from a heart attack.” 

Alastor chuckled at your remark, pulling a dark brown hankie from his inner jacket and giving his cane a quick wipe. “Now y/n, don’t be silly.” After cleaning his cane from the dirty soap water, he flicked the handkerchief into your direction, and gave you an amused smile “You’re already dead.”

You couldn’t argue with that. You huff out a laugh and graciously accept the cloth presented to you, using it to wipe your hands free of any dirty water. 

“Besides,” Alastor continued, “Can you hardly blame me for tuning in? It’s not often I hear such a classic tune being accompanied by an enchanting voice~!” You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks flush. You tried your best not to sing in front of others, and living on your own, never really had the possibility of someone hearing you. Until now that is.

“I, well… Th-thank you” You smile, holding out the handkerchief to return. Alastor didn't move to take it. Looking down at the now soiled cloth, his lip twitched a moment before blinking, and the hankie burst into a puff of flame, tiny bits of soot and ash fluttering to the ground. Your head jolted back a moment as your now empty hand hung there awkwardly. Ohhkayyyy… You speak to fill the silence.

“I find I work better when I listen to music. Although, sometimes I find I get too wrapped up in the music… like you just witnessed.” You give a sheepish shrug, your attention going back towards the load of work you still had to do. Alastor followed your gaze and looked around the dingy kitchen. 

“Hmmmm yes, quite the chore you have ahead of you,” he hummed, eye twitching at all the dirt and grime. “And where is Nifty in all of this? Surely you shouldn’t have to tackle such a big job all by yourself now, she IS the maid of this hotel now.” He placed his clawed hands on his hips, looking around as if she might be hiding in one of the pots or under the counter.

“Ah no, that’s alright,” You shake your head and smile at Alastor, making him turn his focus back to you, “I was going to ask her, but she seemed… preoccupied by a centipede, and I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“Besides,” You puff out your chest and survey the room, causing Alastor to cock an eyebrow in amusement. “I’m the one in charge of this kitchen, so it should be up to me to make sure it’s spick and span. You decided to hire me for some reason, so I want to prove I want this job. And a little elbow grease isn’t going to scare me off so quick.” You turn to the Radio Demon and catch a quick glimpse of what seems to be admiration before he straightened up.

“And I can tell you’re going to make a fine employee already,” Alastor agreed, making you feel a sense of pride. His gaze shifted back towards the mess before him. “Nevertheless, this is still too mighty of a task for just one demon.”

Faster than you could blink, Alastor flicked his hand up and gave a swift snap of his fingers. The shadows surrounding you began to shift and morph into what looked like long tendrils. You stared in awe as the shadows grew before your very eyes and began to morph into what looked like creatures. Before you knew it, 4 shadow-like goons were standing before you with stark white features. 

“There we go~” Alastor chirped, taking in your look of shock before laughing out loud, “Oh come now my dear, no need to look so alarmed! My friends are simply here to help you~”

And help you indeed. While Alastor was talking, the creatures began to pick up the cleaning tools around the room, beginning to mop, sweep and wipe around the room at a speed you could never accomplish on your own. Your look of shock slowly transformed to one of awe.

“Yes, they’ll help to get the job done lickity split!” Alastor boasted, “And don’t worry, once the work is done they’ll simply disappear back into the shadows.”

You watched them work and couldn’t help but marvel at Alastor’s power. Not only was he able to conjure 4 living and working shadow creatures, but the fact that he did it so effortlessly. It just seemed to be a reflection of the amount of power he wielded, which was a terrifying thought all on it’s own. You couldn’t even imagine the extent of what his power could be; unbarred and at full capacity. It made you shiver a moment. Still, you couldn’t help but be grateful for the extra sets of hands.

“Thank you Alastor,” you smiled towards him, eyebrows tight with gratitude, “You really didn’t have to do this, I was fine to do the work on my own-!” The Radion Demon immediately shushed you, sticking one of his fingers close to your lips but not quite touching. 

“Nonsenseee y/n. Think nothing of it! Let’s just say this is my way of thanking you for such a lovely performance earlier. I shall hope to hear more from you again.” He gave you a half-lidded smile, seeming actually genuine about his last remark. You couldn’t hide your embarrassment, but on the inside you were pleased. 

“Now!” Alastor snapped to attention, jolting you out of your daze, “I’m afraid I’ll have to take my leave, I was on my way to a meeting with Charlie before being entranced by your song.” You felt your smile falter at the thought of being the reason he was running late. Alastor quickly caught on and fanned his hand at you

“Oh think nothing of it my dear, I’d say it was well worth my time. But before I go, I would be delighted to talk Jazz with you at a later time; it’s not often I meet a fellow enthusiast.” 

As much as you didn’t want to get your hopes up, you felt a pang of hope in your chest. You had always kept to yourself during your time in Hell, and never really had the opportunity to build any friendships. Everyone you had met as of recent always had ulterior motivations, or were so toxic that you had to end it before they could harm you even further. However, since coming to the hotel, everyone had been so surprisingly friendly; especially Alastor. He helped you feel less nervous when you had arrived, given you a job, and was now helping you clean the kitchen? He’s been such a gentleman, and you both seemed to have similar passions… Could this be the opportunity for a new friend?

“Yes, of course!” You smile, “I love music, I’m always happy to talk about it.” 

“Splendid!” Alastor chimed, turning on his heel and walking back towards the kitchen doors, “We’ll have to arrange a time that works best for us both. But until then,” He turned back to you and gave you a slight bow.

“I shall bid you, adieu.” 

His body sunk back into the shadows and he disappeared as quick as a flash. You yelped out a panicked final “thank you” into the darkness, assuming he didn’t hear it he was gone so quick. But that was ok, you’d just have to thank him again when you next bumped into each other. You turn back to the goons and see they’ve already made quite a dent in the cleaning. You felt yourself breathe a sigh of relief for the extra help. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you crank up the volume on the radio, and run up to help get your kitchen ready. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Boy oh boy here we go~ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

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[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- Zach Sang Show

Part 54

2016

“I’m hanging out in the studio right now with YN YLN”

“Hi. Thanks for having me” I smile at Zach

“Thank you for being here. How are you feeling? A lot is happening right now for you. This is your first solo interview, your releasing your first solo album and your going on tour with Justin Bieber. Like does it feel strange without the boys with you?”

“Yes really strange” I nod nervously laughing

“Have you spoken to any of them or seen them since last year?”

“Yeah we text each other at least once a week. I spent new year with Harry which was lovely”

“How do you feel about being solo?”

“It’s mixed emotions really. I’m so excited to release the album and go on tour, but I’m also so scared. Like when I was with the boys I had that constant support, if I forgot lyrics they were there to help me, but now I’m on my own”

“Let’s talk about your upcoming album. You let me listen to it before hand and it’s a masterpiece”

“Aww thank you” I shift in my seat

“What was the writing process like? You wrote My Everything/Ghostin’ and ‘Break Your Heart Right Back on tour didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I’m so grateful for Liam, Harry, Louis and Niall for helping me turn my thoughts into songs. They started off as random sentences in my notebook. I never planned on making them into actual songs but then Harry got hold of my note book and within a few weeks on tour we had wrote the two songs. Niall helped come up with the melody and Louis recorded it on his phone. Liam was just the hype man. I kind of forgot about the songs until it came to writing the album. I wrote ghosting in a day. It was a bad day with an ex and it just all came out. It wasn’t supposed to go on the album, I never finished it, but Harry was a huge help and he was the one who suggested to put them both on the album. I trust him and his instincts”.

“This album feels very personal”

“Oh 100%” I went through stages during the writing process for the album. I was angry. Angry at the men in my life who have hurt me. I was angry at myself for letting them, but then came the heartache, the questioning myself, like how could I have let the same thing happen over and over again. This album is a true break up album that goes through the emotions of wanting to leave that person, but being in your head and wanting to make it work”

“It’s almost like a diary entry”

“Yeah pretty much. I mean..” I sigh looking at the ceiling “for me me it’s about telling to world how I’m feeling, but in an enjoyable way I guess. I’m 22 now and if I’m not invested in these songs then what’s the point” I shrug

“Is that the worst part that it’s all personal?”

“No no not at all” I shake my head “I don’t have to pretend. I never want to pretend. I want to be open about what I’ve been through and what I go through”

“You look back to when you were on X Factor to your One Direction days to now as a solo artist, can you pinpoint what you’ve learnt”

“I was young when I started in this industry, I was the youngest member of One Direction, plus the only girl, I had a lot of other girls dislike me. I was ‘the worst member’” I said doing air quotes with my hands “at first it got to me. I went on antidepressants and I was speaking to a therapist multiple times a week, but I learnt that there’s no point listening to the hate. Most of them were jealous and I just think if you dislike my voice then just don’t listen. It’s hard to ignore it when there’s so many rumours and opinions”

“It’s life changing to let go”

“Oh 100%”

“I have to ask, how’s Cookie?”

“She’s great. She’s come with me today actually”

“Really? Can we see her?”

“Of course. Dad can I have Cookie?” I turn around to look at my dad. He nods his head and quickly goes to get my dog. I then hear her little paws running “Cookie! Hi baby girl” I pick her up and place her on my lap

“I feel like Cookie is your mascot” Zach laughs, I laugh along with him

“The fans normally get more excited to see her than me”

“Can we talk about going on tour with Justin Bieber? How did that come about?”

“It’s funny actually” I laugh shifting in my seat before taking a quick sip of water “while we were in LA last year we met Justin. He ask what our plans were for this year and when I said I was writing an album he asked me to go on tour with him to promote it. He’s been so supportive of the album”

“Ghostin/My Everything comes out this week”

“Yeah on Friday. It will be the anniversary of Alex’s passing. It’s going to be an emotional day, but I wanted to dedicate those songs to him. The music video will be a lyric video with photos and videos of Alex growing up. He was one of my biggest supporter so it’s only right I dedicate my first single to him”

“I just have to say you are so strong”

“I couldn’t do it without my friends and family. They are my crutches. I’m so incredibly grateful for them and I’m not sure I can ever repay them for everything they’ve done, especially my dad and Emma”

“Speaking of Emma she’s become part of your team now hasn’t she?”

“Yeah she’s my PA. I wouldn’t wake up on time if it wasn’t for her” I joke making is both laugh

“That’s all the time we have. Thank you so much for coming on the show”

“No thank you I had a good time”

“Good look with the album and tour. Your going to kill it”

“I hope so”

“YN YLN everyone”

[liam-93-productions]

"When I wasn't aware I had really bad ADHD, I found the problem to be - Whenever I was in the studio with Louis, I'd kind of do the melodies and Louis would kind of do the lyric with Jamie and then like, I'd kinda zone out whenever the words' on the page. And I did a few here and there. Whereas this time, I couldn't rewrite them for myself because every time I would, I would kind of zone out. So I found out I had ADHD and once I kind of got past that bit - the words bit - music, singing, whatever it is, the words bit is the best bit for me."

Liam about creating music and how he was diagnosed with ADHD for TVN Chile (x) - 10.08

[jazzstandardspoll]

Descriptions & Propaganda

St. James' Infirmary

Traditional

Notable versions: Louis Armstrong (x), Cab Calloway (x), Artie Shaw (x)

Propaganda:

i love how this song starts as a lament and then switches on a dime to such a cool, proud, almost bragging defiance of death. and of course that trumpet!! that trombone!!

imo this song exemplifies the rich tapestry of popular music and the links between the jazz standards, the blues, and the english, irish, and appalachian folk traditions. people sort of fight over whether this song is influenced by the unfortunate rake/rakes progress/young trooper cut down in his prime/etc., (musicologist a. l. lloyd’s theory) or not- there’s a whole book about it, “i went down to the st. james infirmary” by robert harwood.

but none of that really matters. if you love the blues and you love folk music this song is like a familiar hug, full of the themes and motifs you recognize but maybe can’t quite pin down. the mysterious origins are part of the fun. extra propaganda: if you know/love/have ever listened to “blind willie mctell” by bob dylan, this song is the father.

i like the way this one sounds but i also think it's historically/anthropologically pretty cool... it's part of the lineage of "the unfortunate rake" which also spawned popular folk songs like "streets of laredo" and possibly "house of the rising sun" (debated among experts but possible), but this one unlike those others was taken up by jazz artists starting in the 1920s and eventually came to be regarded as a jazz standard. fascinating stuff!

Stardust

Composed by Hoagy Carmichael, with lyrics by Mitchell Parish

Notable versions: Hoagy Carmichael (x), Nat King Cole (x), Samara Joy (x)

Propaganda: For a long time, this was arguably THEE jazz standard. To quote writer Will Friedwald: “By the mid-1950s…’Star Dust’ had already been around for twenty five years and was long established as the most popular of popular songs…[and] had also become archetypal Tin Pan Alley: its dreamy, somewhat meandering melody had inspired hundreds of other tunes, its metaphor lyric had launched God knows how many other reveries of love and loss.” Stardust isn’t just a song, it’s an institution, the forgotten bedrock of popular music before rock’n’roll. It’s been endlessly covered by both jazz bands and singers since 1927, but one of the most famous versions is by country singer Willie Nelson. I love that version, and the one by Samara Joy is transcendental. But to me, the absolute definitive version is by Nat King Cole, no questions asked. It perfectly captures the yearning for a lost love, while looking up at a sky full of stars.