#niallhoranblurb

[busstop]

FIC REC: Show Me Your Heart [A Niall Horan Story] (on Wattpad) By @stylishmuser

“Niall, in every sense of the word, is blocked. He’s got the ideas and the tunes to put them to, but he just can’t get the words out. Sonam is a writing connoisseur. Whether that’s a short press release or a 1200 word article. She’s just got a knack for words. Put together rather abruptly, the two realize they have more in common than they thought…” 🖊🎶💕

Bonus: features Original Canine Character! 🐶 PLUS Special Guest, Willie Devine!

[paynezme]

Niall or Liam, looking after you while you have a killer migraine?

It's initially quite weird. Because' normally when Niall treads home through the door, he is audibly present. Cause' his laughter is accentuated by the echo that reverberates over the tiles when he's telling you about how Harry got caught trying to scare Dan at rehearsals by pushing his lanky stature through the space between a brick wall and a cemented barricade only to require the assistance of Niall and two tour directors to pull him out by his free arm. ("Absolutely hilarious I'm telling ya'. I wish one of us had of got a photo. Priceless.") But it's a polarizing difference. Cause' before he was home you had been the recipient of his daily texts messages that are ninety nine percent of the time just voice recordings his sent to you cause' Niall feels too lazy to type. But he gets the gist of the severity of your migraine. (’Hey babe. Can you just type out what you said in that recording. I'm scared it's something really loud and I've got a killer migraine.' 'Smart thinkin. It involved drums so it's loud'.) And after the jingle of a set of keys picking at the doorknob of the front door, Niall instinctively reaches his hand for the light before he wisely remembers. Cause' the house is as dark possible for a time before sunset, every single blind blocking any evidence of afternoon sun. And it's only when he sees a tiny whisper of movement that he recognizes the silhouette of your body under the cream fur blanket he bought for at Primark when you were trying to hide the goosebumps scattered every square inch of your body. ("Ere' you go." "What? Ni?" "You're freezing and I'm not giving up my jumper cause I'm cold too, so wrap this blanket around your shoulders." "I'll look like a tool." "There isn't any one here. I'll wear one too if you want?") And Niall's kind of unsure. Cause' you're the one to make chicken noodle soup when he spends the afternoon complaining about a sore throat and when the neighbour had sliced her hand on the mailbox, Niall stood in her driveway like a out-of-water fish cause' you already had her hand cupped in a bandage and the pressure of your hands. But his head eventually ducks under the blanket you've buried your head under and for what seems like a minute, his supple lips are pressed  and pursed against your temple. When his voice does picks up, it's so hushed and soft like he is speaking against a fragile piece of glass. ("I was going to offer to make you soup, but let's be real. When was last time I cooked.") And as soon as a resistant laugh begins to rattle with a slightly apparent wince, Niall's hands are quick  to hold on top of yours stomach, his eyes widewidewide with concern. ("Fuck, I won't make you laugh again. Promise.")

[paynezme]

Hey love, are you accepting requests? Could you pretty please do one where Niall surprises you in college? ^_^

Niall's been present in the clustered dormitory room too many times to be just double digits anymore. He was there when you were in a hormone fluctuated fight with your cousin-and-only-recent roommate about who was to get the 'luxury' top bunk. He stood there, having to hold the ends of your fingers in his tough surfaced palms in restraint as you let your voice grow in increasing octaves with her. ("If you get the top bunk (y/n) that means you get the bigger bed." "I'm taller," "Only by an inch!" "An inch and a half!" "Bull shit.") And he's there on the smaller, ground bound bed that you've comforted to over time when you have post-it notes covering every piece of flat surface in reach from the hollow of the doona you molded yourself into before his cut-copy key rattled in the door. And though Niall is so easily convinced to fall under the security of the blankets and the entertainment of Brooklyn Nine on netflix each second weekend he ritually lives in this room, he's also a breath of fresh air as light as the tips of his hair. Cause' his face catches in a glimpse of confusement and obvious concern. ("Love." "Hey N-. What's that look for?" "What are you doing?" "I'm not going to flunk this class. Im studying." "You're in the same clothes I saw you in on facetime. Three days ago." "I've washed them.") And his feet will press over the few textbooks fallen from the end of your bed until he reaches you, his eyes teasing with playfulness . ("I betcha stink." "Do not." "Let me closer than." "Don't ruin my tex-" "Too late." "Niall!") But it's always kind of planned because his never been well acted to keep it a surprise. So you're feet are treated with immense fear because' you can hear the snores of your cousin from her elevated level and know it's not her key that is rattling in the doorknob that jingles with a muffled voice outside. And your brain is clouded with a haze of drowsiness after being caught walking across to the opposite side of the room, searching for the bottle of water that your dry throat left razor sensations interrupting your sleep. And it's only when a familiar set of light blue eyes are opulent in the dark setting of the room that you let your tensed, raised hand fall down with a curse word falling from your lips. ("Fucking hell Niall." "Well, that's a greeting I wasn't expecting.") But he'll usher himself into the bed that's lost his scent in the past five weeks he's been booked away in foreign locations. His tranquil arms and heightenly thicken, tired accent warm a restless body. ("What, what are you doing here?" "Plans cancelled." "Did you bring luggage?" "In the car?" "How long for?" "Tonight only. Now can you let me cuddle you?" "I mean, I guess." "Atta' girl.")

[paynezme]

Going MIA with Niall, both of you fall off the face of the earth from social media and all that and fans wonder where you two are

It's just one day turns into two so effortlessly. And before it's comprehendable, you're standing at the side of the bed with the doona caped around your shoulders so snuggly, and Niall's arms are outstretched so his hand is holding your knee cap as he lays completely sprawled across the width of the plush mattress. ("Ni, it's Wednesday." "Mmm?" "We haven't left the house since Sunday." "Happy days I'd say.") It's because Niall's a cuddly thing, only accentuated when his tired. So you can't have a thought of panic for unproductivity cause' Niall's frame pins over your frame, his warm cheek pressed in the crook of your neck disabling the chance to reach over for your phone. And his accent becomes even harder to apprehend each word in this position as he rambles words as warm as his attachment. ("I wonder whether they make guitar hero anymore?" "Yeah." "We should buy one. 'Ave you played it?" "I played it better than what you would have." "Impossible. I'll hold ya' word to it.") And you're just as distracting to him as his presence is for you. Because Niall relishes just how much you take notice to him. When you should be paying attention to the movie that you spent over twenty minutes deciding on to then be sitting opposite to Niall, your legs fallen over his so idly. ("You've got more freckles around your neck." "Well, I'm a pasty boy touring in Brasil." "Did you get burnt?" "Only when I was skinny dipping." "You?" "Yeah." "Don't believe it." "Why? I've shown my backside on national television remember.") And when it comes to evading the security of the apartment, Niall finds nothing more satisfying than doing the basics with you. Walking the aisles of the supermarket, his hands delegated the task of steering the trolley. And he loves doing simple things like this because he gets to watch how you react when the wheels of the trolley bump into the heels of your feet. (His strident laugh and beaming eyes picking up after "Keep running over my feet and I'll throw these grapes at you.") And when his familiar face is spotted by a few eager fans, it's undeniable from his boisterous grin just how he hasn't been missing when his had you.

[paynezme]

Blurb about going shopping with Niall? Please and thank you!

Shopping with Niall is never really a planned occurrence. Particularly grocery shopping. It happens when it's half nine on a Monday night and neither of you have slowed down with the sunset, energy still peaking sporadically as you walk from cupboard to cupboard door without hesitation, swinging door's open to hear your stomach growling with the sight of nothing more than a faded few packets of Fruit Loops. ("Niii, I want cereal." "Not gonna happen babe, we don't have milk." "You're kidding?" "Do I kid about this stuff?") And this happens too often. Niall's fair skin slightly darker with the shade of grey material of his hoodie accentuating his blue eyes as well. And your hair is twisted a bun nearly as messy as the creased and unironed basketball shirt you stole from Niall's drawer. And this is Niall's favorite time of the day with you, cause' you are a step short of total exhaustion and you've only got a pair of flip flops on visible underneath a pair of two-sizes-to-large grey sweatpants that make your legs look exaggeratingly elastic as you start bouncing on the spot like an ecstatic three year old over some jelly cups. ("You're kidding!" "What? You've won the lottery or somethin' with that reaction?" "Nearly, Jelly cups. I haven't seen them since I was in grade two." "Well chuck them in the trolley.") And Niall isn't any different. Cause' the store is so ghostly still at this hour that you can hear each melody of the speakers. And you're both half way down the dental aisle when you hear his impersonating tone louder than Cher's on the track list. ("Do you believe in life after love?!" "Niall, oh my god.") And though you're hands are drastically reaching across the trolley that his bent body is resting his forearms against, cupping across his mouth as you feel the warm breath stick to your palm with each of his projected words, his voice will only growl louder. Even though you are attempting to lull the air with "You're going to get us kicked out" and threats like "I'm going to make Helene put you on vocal rest" he stubbornly continues with his blue eyes wide and cheek's pulling at a brash smile. Cause' Niall loves watching how you make full strength effort to contain the bursts of giggles that rattle each breath, only for it to show in the wrinkles that form around your eyes. milar to when Niall's right hand is clasped around the steering wheel on the drive home and you've already raided the Magnum icecream's. So his left hand holds onto the ice-cream stick as he tries not to divert his attention from the road. Though you are ultimate distraction with Chocolate tainting your lips.

[paynezme]

Nialls proposal with help of your family and friends

Nervous Niall is as noticeable as a stain on white carpet. Cause’ it’s suggested in every detail of his demeanor on the car ride North. When ‘Just Haven’t Met You’ yet comes on the iPod you found stashed in the overhead compartment of Niall’s first car that collects nothing but dust particles in his garage, and you can dissect the first half of his sentence about the song but an angst fueled rush spills his words like slick oil from his lips. When you pull up to familiar driveway of your parent’s place, after hearing the crunch of the pebbles spreading under the tires, you notice how Niall’s tongue run across the front of his teeth, like his instinctual habit he adopted whenever his monthly visit of the orthodontic dentist came around. When you have the chance to break free from the grabbing dainty handprints of your youngest cousins and notice Niall, he is fidgeting in his white shirt and one of his arm self consciously hugs around his ribs  while the other extends so the restless pads of his calloused fingers can rake through his blonde locks. And it’s nothing special about today. It’s March 16th and it’s nearly half three when the pattern of the grass is transferred onto the supple skin of the back of your thighs as you sit crossed legged on the ground and Niall’s slim knees are pressed up against yours as you realize. A realization that his hands aren’t as uneasy as they were a mere five minutes ago when he was the object of looks you couldn’t decipher from more than one of your family member’s floating by the scent of the barbeque. No. His hands are composed as they pull in rhythm in and out of the lolly mix you stole from the table, and he places the milky assortments onto your still leg cause’ those are your favorites. And the space between your cheeks and teeth are filled with a sugary stickiness that clings your words together when you spot the gummy ring amongst the candied assortments that Niall’s fingers toss through. (“Are you going to give me that ring or are you going to make me wait?” “Your kidding. Sarah told you didn’t she? I knew from the moment I showed her that she’d be as big of a tell tale as me and yet-”) And your agape mouth and glassier, rounded eyes are enough indication of his mistake, his cheeks are flushed with the same pink hue of nail polish that’s chipping from the toe nails on your bare feet. And he’s let a curse propel from his lips before he let’s his blue eyes look again at you. (“I had a speech and everything ready for ya and-” “Now or later Ni, either way I’’ll say yes.” “You want to marry me?”)

[paynezme]

can you do an excited niall before playing wembley please? ps love your stuff

It’s so infectious to watch but Niall literally burns your energy by only watching him. Cause’ in the spare moments that he isn’t heisting all of your energy as well, you can notice how his accent thickens with the increased octave of his voice and how his hands are always content with some inanimate object even if it be the bottle of Powerade from the catering table that’s being utilized as a much smaller version of a guitar in his grasp. And he has this absolute confidence that speeds along his words so quickly that any stranger would have to ask him to repeat the accelerated jumble of words. But his theatrical expressions are so telling that it takes seconds to understand the gestures behind his words. Like how you somehow end up nursing his shirt in your lap while his playing Slam Ping Pong with Josh. ("Do you want this shirt or should I take it back to your bunk?" "I’ll wear after so you can rip off me into shreds later sweets.") And he has barely anytime to completely pull his face into the most exaggerated pucker before his shrill squeal is brought on by an unexpecting ping pong ball leaving a welt centimeters from his belt line. ("Keep it in your pants till this games over will you lad?”) And then there’s the stumbling attempted strip tease down to his underwear you are forced to cringe through as he tone deafly mimics the words of Pour It Up to. ("Ni oh god no." "Call me Magic Mike babe." "Anything to make that stop.") And he’ll let it continue until his knees have a secure grip around your waist against the couch and his fingertips are tingling ticklish spots enough to trigger an onslaught of giggled gasps of air from your lungs. ("Ni Ni Ni don-” “Go on say it, say it.” “No ow!" "Say it babe." "Okay okay okay.” “Okay what?” “Magic Mike!”) And it’s only when there is four minutes before they’re ushered into the corridor that his lips subconsciously pout while staring intently at the ground that the adrenalin is temporarily substituted with a tsunami onslaught of nerves. Cause’ he was the same before the Tower of Terror at Disney Land which he didn’t hint at all but it was so obvious because in the final minutes his personality sheltered back and his voice wasn’t as echoing with excitement. And now his an identical image of that day but his not wearing the grey hoodie but a denim vest and pretty similar ripped jeans. And if it’s any reassurance, his mind will jump from its doubt as soon as your head leans on his shoulder from a stance behind him and he doesn’t have to think who it is because it’s your hair falling on his shoulder that brings such a sense of familiarity and your voice is so calm compared to the chaos that’s centered around him. ("Before you get swept into a thousand and two directions, I’m proud of you and this is what you deserve." "You’ll save me if I collapse on stage yeah?" "There’s a whole stadium out there who will save you." "But you will?" "Of course. But don’t waste to much energy Magic Mike. I can’t wait for my show." "Oh prepare yourself girl.") 

[paynezme]

maybe a really angsty blurb about Niall and you being crazy in love but seeing each after somewhere after a really tricky breakup? I dunno, if that makes sense lol

It’s almost like a part of him had to say it. Now matter how pressed his reactions were being pushed he had to do something. He had to look busy to whoever else these corporate people were sitting at his table. He had to swoop on your alone trail and casually follow you. He had to ignore the fact that the staff of the restaurant are hawking so obviously over his every move. He had to stand four feet away from you in the foyer of the bathrooms waiting for the small queue to dissipate. He had to say it even though it felt as though a dry cotton ball was pulling at his words as they traveled from the back of his throat. ("You look nice.") And Niall almost feels as though his entire balance has swayed through his veins cause’ his knees feel like feathers and his gaze can’t really even keep an eye on any aspect of you except for the bottom of your dress. Though he would be able to trace the pattern of the seam the way he has memorized it from across the room tonight. And that same swaying feeling has the most subtle buzzing that’s ringing through his ears so bothersome he almost misses your hesitant "You too." And your not oblivious to the fact the men’s toilets hasn’t got a line at all and his actions aren’t as he justifies they are to anyone who asks and you’re to vulnerable to think about the answer he might give if you question what he truly want’s. But you’re compelled to and he has that same aura that makes you forget halfway through your sentence what words you were trying to put across. ("Don’t. Don’t make this hard please. I’m so exhausted.”) And within a millisecond of hearing your voice break with the final plead, that cotton ball stuck in his throat turns into pure cement and the following brief second of silence is deafening. Because that’s just how you pleaded when he collected his draw of socks and underwear from your place. And it would be so easy to remind you how overpriced this place is and that he still has your box of Coco Pops in his pantry because you’d much rather opt for them rather than the Seafood Crepe he watched you order. And it would be so easy for him to nudge his fidgeting palm into yours and the only way to suppress the urge comes by suffocating them in the material of his pants. But before he can dwell himself into the fantasy of making things right his thoughts are intervened by the shuffle of your feet on the carpet and this time doesn’t end in some venomous cuss like 11pm that night neither of you could undo the treacherous path you paved the way to but just the whimper of your voice. (“I  don’t need the bathroom anymore.”)

[paynezme]

forehead/face/knuckle or like any kiss with niall or maybe like cuddles?

The best hugs are when Niall's sluggish frame sort of sticks to you and his firm holding arms completely hang over your shoulder. Like when you're brushing your teeth and he tactically waits until your mouth is near full with toothpaste suds and your knees suddenly have to lock with strength cause' every pound of his frame is leaning on you and his cheek takes a little bit of nestling around before it settles on your the curve of your neck and he has this dopeydopeydopey smirk that beams as soon as you try to inform him that the toothpaste is about to spill further out of the corners of your mouth cause' he loves how you just can squirm away from him. ("Ni-N." "I can't understand ya." "Shi-" "Can't talk with a mouthful love.") And you try to be mad cause' there's now a bright blue stain on the collar of your cardigan but it doesn't last long cause' your tricked by his lips that are so theatrically pouted and his chin is rested perfectly on the end of your shoulder and his back is hunched so he can tilt his head just enough backwards to be looking up at you. Then there's times when his not so touchy cause' he is reallyreallyreally nervous about recording the guitar piece on the new album which he hasn't quite perfected yet and he can't stop toying with your fingers subconsciously as if that's going to help him. Or when he wakes up the morning of a live performance on The X Factor  and he won't let on that his any inch of nervous, he really just keeps on over killing the fact that his "Just excited" though his actions are telling a totally different story. And he may look like his more focused on the carpet cause' that's the only direction attracting his eyes but your hand is quite flexible and your limbs become very pliable cause' his flat padded fingers tug at your hand and eventually somehow you watch without saying anything about how your hand floats up closer to his mouth and his lips stay quite pouted and you can feel the minor quaver in them as they rest against your knuckles and sometimes whisper something so mumbled it's barely coherent but just enough so he can listen to you ramble on about whatever it is. Cause' you're so full of hand gestures while you talk and there's something about your hands twitching and squirming that's oddly soothing. ("Clueless or Mean Girls? Since you watch them religiously." "Oh  shit. I want to say Clueless but wait. I spose' Mean Girls. No you can't make me answer this." "Yeah I can." "I can't cause' it's like cheating.") And there's the times when it compensates for words he doesn't know how to use. Cause' you've  never normally been one to just 'crumble', but the fact that you've still got a whole lectures worth of study you've somehow fallen behind on and your temple is tightened with such a debilitating headache is enough for you to feel your whole body slump along the couch and almost choke on the saltiness of the tears that you swallow. And there doesn't even have to be a word spoken cause' your spawned out body barely leaves enough room but Niall just sort of halts instantaneously in the hallway and he slides his body next to yours but that's just not enough cause' his lips are soon peppering the wettest of fairy kisses just adjacent to your head as he forgets the fact that he isn't a feather and your breath is exhausted from your lungs as he affectionately collapses around your entire body. And it's all in the best intentions so maybe that's why you just let his lips follow a random trail close to your temple until his pouted lips stop momentarily. ("I'm squishing the hell out of you aren't I." "Mhmm." "Shit. Want me to get up?" "No." "You can still breathe can't ya?" "Mhm." "Well I guess that's the main thing.")

[paynezme]

Can you do a blurb about Niall, the morning after your first time :)

Honestly, while it may be hard to predict with many individuals, I don’t think his behavior would make a considerable difference of how you acted. Whether you shy away from his grip in the morning, feeling insecure of that tinging pain aching south of your hips, or whether your wide eyed alert with over-rolled adrenalin, he doesn’t hinder away or push for more. Cause’ first thing in the hazy blur of the mid-morning when you can feel dormant muscles around your thigh appearing with a faint ache, the broad pads of Niall’s temper finger tips rest against your tousled locks of hair, pressed against your head. And wedged under your ankle is a disarrayed pillow that’s comparably colder than his slim frame which locks you in cause’ his odd behavioral sleeping pattern has shown and his almost enveloped the entirety of your body as if your made from a plush material. And his eyes sort of flutter open on multiple occasions, trying to keep a gaze at you, before you’ll hear a vague “You’re trapped in aren’t you?”, which is lifted with an almost satisfactory smirk that breathes a temper breath near your temple. (“I think so.” “Good.”) And it takes a few attempts of his fluttering, heavy eyelids to finally possess the strength to remain open enough so you notice the hue is softer than the night before and the pallid, faint bags delicately rimming his eyes are enough to let a yawn escape from your lips. (“Tired?” “A tad.” “Don’t matter, we have all day.”) And the mention of last night doesn’t really seep its way into the little conversation but saying that, it’s not awkward. It’s not awkward how his fingers fiddle and gradually massage the entire proximity of your scalp and it’s not awkward as his torso slightly shuffles to scoop his bare, warm bicep under your upper back so he can comfortably edge his body into you just that slight bit more, meaning your senses register the familiar scent lingering from the cologne on his neck from the night. And once you finally manage to convince him ‘Ni, I’m promise I’ll be two minutes, but my bladders millimeters from bursting’, that may be the moment his cognitive thought’s string together and you’ll notice how his cheeks flush vaguely and his parted lips is all you need to understand his thoughts as his hand rests over your palm while you’re knelt with on one knee against the matress. (“I can always run out and grab something, in case you need.” “I should be fine.” “I want to make sure you’re alright, yeah? So don’t think you’re alone.” “Course not.”) And it could be weird and maybe even embarrassing to think about having to ask him, but literally as soon as his lips pull into that easy grin as he calls out after you, you can’t help but feel something resembling tingles race through your weakening knees. (“And I wouldn’t be too long if you want your Coco Pops crunchy like you have em’. That or I’ll eat them.” “You wouldn’t dare.” “You know me well enough to know that answer.”)

[paynezme]

Can you do a niall blurb on asking your parents permission to move in with him?

He's initially reallyreallyreally nervous. And it's vividly obvious as you've already spent a majority of the day watching him change his shirt at least a half a dozen times and the nail of the tip of his stumpy thumb has been bitten between his teeth for so long its at least half the length of the original size. And though his smile has resurfaced numerous times when your hands have tugged at his fingertips, being gnawed at by his teeth, and though he nods along to your reassurance that 'I wouldn't let you ask if I didn't know they adore you' and 'They'll see how much we want this' his damn nails continue to creep intuitively to his mouth repetitively. And it doesn't change when his on their couch, his tensed torso keeping him upright from molding into the plush material and his eyes absent in his own thoughts as some bantering conversation about the state of the lawn bats between corners of the room between your parents. And it takes a few pinches on the inside of his knees and your tapping foot against his to cut between his trance before his cerulean eyes are widewidewide facing at you and the inner corners of his lips are noticeably tinged slightly pinker as he pipes a delusional "Huh?" And the innocent, timid expression on his face only makes his influx of butterflies instantaneously swarm through your stomach as well. And maybe it's the sudden drop of color that drains from your face or the way he notices your breath catch and sharply heave your chest at the sudden realization you've had, but it's as though he intuitively feels it necessary to fill the shoes you had been leading with. Cause' though his hesitancy has silenced his normally boisterous tone for a good majority of the visit and the only thing keeping his restless foot from tapping a hole into the sole of his canvas shoes is your foot which forces it to remain planted along the ground, there's no doubt in his mind that he reallyreallyreally wants to banter over which side of the bed is yours. And his heart swells at the thought of being able to permanently tuck your sleeping frame under the warmth of his favorite bed spread without having to keep a wary eye on the creeping time cause' you have to make the cut off of the last train home. And his mind already wanders to the deal you preemptively agreed upon. That due to the reality that neither of you fancy the tedious laundry task, the only fair way to dictate the chore is by nonetheless than a three round battle of 'scissors, paper, rock.' So his nervous angst triggers into an overdrive and it takes merely three seconds of his accent accentuated, verbal diarrhea  before his hands have clutched around your palms with additional strength and his mouth rests slightly agape as his question lingers from just then passing his lips. And looking at him from the side, you can't help but take notice to the way his mouth sits in awaiting approval. How it still is adjusted as if his braces are still hooked around the proximity of his mouth, revealing tiny indentations on his cheeks, further towards his ears. And there's only two thoughts that play on your mind at the exact moment. What you're parent's are finally going to give their blessing upon and how those exact butterflies will tickle your insides each morning if it does so happen work out that you will see those same indentations on Niall's pallid cheeks each morning.

[paynezme]

I totally think I just sent you a "hello" with nothing attached by accident! I was actually going to request a blurb but hit ask too soon oops. Can you do something about one of the boys being invited to join in on one of your family Christmas traditions? :)

The dark rims circling underneath Niall's eyes identically match the exhausted bags weighing down yours and neither of you are certain whether your bloated frames can remain upright from the absolute mass of food that was consistently shoveled down your stomachs over the past fourteen or so hours. But if there is a family tradition you are going to miss, it's definitely not going to be missing the festive lights near midnight of Christmas night and Niall is making sure of that cause' he is multiple steps ahead of you, tugging on your hand as the soles of your slippers scrape along the concrete sidewalk with each step (more like dragged trudges as you can physically feel the mass of food in your stomach sandbagging down your frame). And with your grand mother in slow tow with one of your cousins behind you and whose figure you can make out to be your sister through the dull light of the night in front of you, you can notice the nearly invisible dimples appearing on Niall's rounded cheeks as the iridescent flashing Christmas lights bounce off of his pallid complexion. And while most people would be passed out by this late hour of Christmas night, you're body is kept warm by the soft fleece material of the Christmas slippers that you're Nan knitted to match Niall's he received today. And your finger tips are saved from the chill frost of the night air by Niall's calloused fingertips that occasionally squeeze additionally tighter as another amusing decoration appears at the next house accompanying the block which is soon further pointed out by his shrill tone that matches the octave of your Mum's overly excited tone in the near distance. ("Babe, they've sculpted the actual hedge into a reindeer. That's bloody unheard of.") And any by-stander would almost be fooled that those exhilarated shrills echoing in the night air are actually sounding from a hyper mob of eight year olds if it wasn't for the occasional huskiness that cracked his tone. Cause' his full investment to this tradition shows and he hasn't got any reservation in tugging at your mums hand to stand her next to you so he can spend five minutes between laughter trying to get that photo he knows she wants. Though, he's abnormally articulate with this and he spends a majority of the time trying to bite back his laughter at your cross-eyed expressions. ('That's cute, but how about less whites of your eyes' and 'People will think you're Miley if you dont pull that tongue in love.') And you're palms instinctively raise to mask you're blushing cheeks a number of times during the night. Particularly as his fingertips hold you down against his lap desperately as the un-sturdy structure of the steel reindeer barely holds the combined mass of both of your frames. ('Come and sit on the deer love.' 'Ni, it'll  break.' 'Rudolph is able to carry a whole sleigh. I'm sure his fit enough to hold us.' 'That Rudolph isn't made from flexible metal.' ' He's a transformer Rudolph.')

[paynezme]

Niall blurb: you've recovered, but you relapse really bad in your eating disorder?

Someone else may as well tear his beating heart out of his chest cause’ that probably wouldn’t be as hard as this. And it’s literally a consistent knot that eventually travels to and twists the walls of his stomach into a nauseating, tangled mess and maybe it’s a mess of guilt. Cause’ he has this perception that it wouldn’t be like this if he didn’t have the copious amounts of pressure that ineptly spills on you and if he was able to be a steady pillar of strength that was consistently there for support and if he was able to somehow wrap you in a thick protection of cotton wool from the harsh belittling nature of a significant proportion of his life. And that lump choking the lining of his throat is also infuriated with anger because of the disgusting intent of other people to force that unrealistic and stupidstupidstupid opinion upon you. And you can clearly recognize this medley of emotions confusing him cause’ his fair complexion drowns with a ghastly hue as soon as he understands the logicality behind all of the signs that have sparsely appeared between back and forth travels. And limpness drags down the entirety of his slim frame and his feet keep restlessly fidgeting awkwardly trying to find a comfortable position, but god, as if anyone could prepare him for this. And as you see the sincerest sympathy glassing his light eyes, his incoherent mind anguishes as it fills with your rambling of ‘I feel so pathetic’ and ‘I don’t deserve you’ and ‘I don’t know what to do anymore’ and the ache weighing down your sobs resounds in his ear drums. But seeing you so fragile shatters him and his common carefree, blissful trait is tainted and he can’t do anything but blanket your body. (“I don’t know either love.”) And you’re holding him as much as his attempting to hold you, the flustered rhythm of his heart matches yours and the hasty pattern of his breath so perfectly portrays your panicked state. And honestly, both of you are not certain what the next step is and the eerie silence confirms that. What’s going to happen when you visit that all too familiar medical practice and your legs momentarily turn into jelly as you await the reading to appear on the digital scale? What’s going to happen when anxiety generates hot tears as you are fronted with the challenge ‘Just try and finish the hamburger with me’? What’s going to happen when panic trembles your frame as your clothing noticeably grows huggier with each progressive step? But for now, his lips press to your temple, calloused finger tips clutching for all life around your hip as he doesn’t let your own actions cripple you any further. (“It’s not just you, okay. It’s us. We. And we’ll figure it out, yeah? We will find a way.”)

[paynezme]

Blurb: when Niall finds out you're in the hospital? (Sorry I had to go to the emergency department last night and couldn't help but wonder) .xx

He instantly scurries. His thoughts scurrying for what to do, his feet scurrying over to the phone and his hand scurrying over his speed dial in desperate search for your number. And luckily he has someone there, cause’ it’s such an auto pilot reaction that he doesn’t comprehend the fact that you won’t actually answer. And if it wasn’t for the reassuring hand pulling the phone from his timid grip then his mind would only be accelerated with a frenzy of stressed thoughts from the sounding of your message box ringing through his ears. And generally he is really good at holding his own, you know? Shrugging off vicious rumors, controlling the odd panic attacks that keel your body over, holding himself when nerves almost paralyses his jelly legs. But there’s something that is so visibly tormenting him cause’ his already pale expression now undertones with a ghastlier hue and his eyes seem to dull with panic and though he may not be saying anything, it’s clearly obvious by his slightly agape jaw that his body is filling to the absolute capacity with angst and a silent panic. And it’s no significance knowing just how bad of a state you’re in, it’s the fact that you are actually in harm’s way that knots his stomach into a gutting wrench. And maybe he is mentally scolding himself cause’ ‘I should’ve known that’s why she didn’t ring back’ and ‘She hates hospitals, I should be there’ and his doing just as you would predict. How his torso is slightly slouching, hands fist at the ends of his light locks as he feels the glassy film of tears glass across his eyes and that’s the moment he just begins continuously mumbling, barely coherently listening to the answers given. (‘How long has she been in there?’ ‘I’ll have to bring a few of her things yeah?’ ‘Has she got a private room?’ ‘Oh, I can’t forget her slippers. And she might be more comfortable in my rugby shorts, if I bring them. Yeah, yep. I’ll bring them.’)  And if it isn’t for the company of the carrier of the haunting message in the room then he would have broken down, keeled over, giving into the threatening sobs. And he has to force his breaths to steady to an even , paced rhythm enough to give his mind a clearway to comprehend that they are saying you’re ‘alright’  but that’s just not enough. And who cares about not ‘holding his own’ cause’ he can feel his gruff voice stiffen with a demand cause’ has to get there to make sure you’re going to be more than just alright.

[paynezme]

Can you please do a blurb about what Niall would be like when you just have a complete breakdown in front of him and you're just sobbing hysterically? thanks!

His mind stumbles and chokes on its on words as immediately as the heavy sobs rattle your chest cause’ a worrisome anguish just floods through his veins. And it’s not as though is naturally awkward with this sort of thing, it’s just the fact that it’s you. And his stomach twists itself into a nauseating knot and his breathing is hastily accelerating to resemble yours cause’ his mind is just tumultuously circling with ‘Wasn’t me was it?’ and ‘She needs me. Got to wake up to myself’ and ‘Fuckfuckfuck’. And it’s daunting cause’ you’ve always been such a pillar of consistency and strength and he knows that he is entirely irrational to believe that you can always maintain such a held persona, but god, there’s such an emotion doubling over your body and distinct bother piercing your eyes and god, it’s doubling him over as well. But the instant that he notices you’re upper lip stiffen in an attempt to cease the quivers and hearing you shamefully mutter ‘Forget it’ and ‘I’m an idiot’ it’s as though his heart and head hits the floor. (‘Don’t say that.’) And he isn’t confident and the only certainty he has is that if he says one more word that chances are his voice will crack the strong knot gravelling coarsely up the walls of his throat and so he has no control but letting his intuitive nature take control. And that means you can feel his head topple on the crown of your neck and his slightly clammy palms securely scoop around your back to bring you closer to his chest that he uses all might to ease his hasty pattern of exhales. And his bare torso is temper and tensed as your body rattles underneath his physical cloak and he continues to hum though it’s cracked with an own anguish for feeling your body so overthrown. And though your words are incoherent and fragmented with sobs, his fingertips never cease to stroke along the curve of your spine and his lips purse against your head (though he is stunned with a stinging lip occasionally as you convulse in your position.) And when he does speak up, though his words are as fragile as your frame feels in his grip, there’s such a silent relief that the sincerity and genuine worry in his tone is enough to soften the tight sensation in your chest. (“I don’t know how to uh-how fix it and I don’t know whether I’m being any help. But you know that this is okay, yeah? It’s uh-it’s more than okay. You take your time. And I’ll wait with you.”)

[paynezme]

Hiiiii. Could you do the blurb or cuddly Niall?

It could easily be misinterpreted as clingy, but it’s literally just this natural trait of his that over-exaggerates as soon as he finds himself caring for you that tad extra. Cause’ though you haven’t had a break from the constant snug he has enthralled his body over yours all afternoon, his light footprints sound, ghosting behind yours and his chin will find a way to nuzzle into the crook of your neck or his forehead will slump into the back of your hair, the button of your nose tickling through your locks of hair, and the sparse rough skin of his fingertips tracing around your shoulders. (‘Hair smells lovely.’) Or if you’re in an entirely awkward position to cuddle, there is such a distilled ambience, his words absent, cause’ he has determined intentions of find some way. Like when you’re standing on the rim of the bed, on your tiptoes with your arms extended in reach of the cupboard, instead of feeling a helping hand, the warmth of his torso will tickle the supple skin of your chins. (“You want to be useful and help me?” “Hmph.” “Niiii. Stop.” “Hmph.”) And when it’s been more than a couple of days and a seemingly never ending series of longing texts, then its distinctively obvious there’s a thrill joy in his step cause’ the hug ascends your feet from the ground and his fingertips are extra grabby and his thumbs are fidgeting. And maybe you have to quickly remind him that he has more strength then he apprehends (“Ni. You’re squeezing so tight I’m pretty sure I’ve lost feeling in my toes.” “Oh shit.”) But it’s not enough for him to refrain him cause’ he is genuinely sososo excited and there’s a joyous thrill that enthralls him to the point where all of his might is squashing you’re body and you can feel the bounce that springs from the heels of his feet that rocks your body. And it’s so hard to not giggle in the slightest during the tumultuous of times, cause’ god, it’s so easy to lose yourself in his affectionate grip.