seen a lot of these with your favorites, but reblog with the CURRENT book you are reading, show you are streaming, the last movie you watched, and any game/puzzle/crafts you’re working on
Calum meets you under the sun with candies on the ground and his heart on his sleeve. He can’t explain the sudden and heart dropping infatuation he feels when he looks at you. He can’t help but wonder if this is the beginning of something special.
Or, the long awaited for beginning to dates with cal
1.5k words
dates with cal masterlist | my masterlist | feedback and reblogs mean the world <3
The grass is lush beneath Calum, poking up along the edges of the blanket laid out on the ground. The sun shines above, only a few white clouds drift by in the afternoon breeze. The park is alive with people roaming about, with chatter and the sounds of nature all around him. Ashton sits to his left, goes on and on about the next album and what they should be working on. It’s important, Calum knows that, but his attention is elsewhere. He’s drawn into the sight of shadows cutting across a stranger’s face. To the way leaves scatter around the lone person and the fervency in flipping pages of a worn out novel.
“Stop staring,” Ashton says, deadpan, mid sentence about a bass line cut off to prod at Calum and give his shoulder a shove. “You’re being a little too obvious mate, just go over there.”
Calum scoffs, feigns offense at his less than subtle behavior and plays it off and dwindles down his curiosity. He weasels his way out of approaching with a thin excuse and finds reprieve when Luke strides for them. It’s enough to distract Ashton for a moment, to kill the conversation and get Calum away from the inexplicable nerves collecting in the pit of his stomach.
“You come to talk about the band or have Calum kick your ass in a game of footie?” Ashton inquires with a chuckle and motion at the football in Luke’s grasp.
“Can do both,” Luke jokes and drops the ball, one foot claiming it to keep it still.
Calum eagerly agrees; the game will take his mind away from the compelling figure under the willow tree.
“Yeah, alright,” Ashton relents and lets the half hearted and cramped game begin.
They weave around people and paths, use imaginary lines for the goals and it’s almost enough for Calum to get lost in. To forget about what had so urgently claimed his interest since sitting under the sun. All until Luke, with legs too long to control and a kick he doesn’t know how to aim, forces the ball at an arc and collision.
Coffee stains pages, papers fly through the wind, a disgruntled and disheartened huff joins the harmony of the breeze. Calum freezes, Luke runs the other way. The reason for Calum’s racing heart and mind filled with wonder looks up and pins him with a desperate and pleading stare. Soft eyes put him into motion, a bitten lip quickens his pace and a tactful hand reaches out to catch a page coming directly at him.
“I’m so sorry. My friend’s not really that coordinated. Are you okay?” he asks in a fanatical rush, all of the words pouring out of him as he clutches the page, drops to a knee and assesses the rest of the damage.
Coffee runs wildly around an already worn book. Taped in pages have been freed and streamlines of stains run along sheer tights. A pile of candies now scatter through the grass.
“I’m fine.”
Calum’s already racing heart adds in a leap and then stalls as glimmering eyes meet his full on. His breath catches. The page in his hand now feels like dead weight dragging down his arm. He wants to offer it over but he finds that he’s unable to move. He’s statuesque until a small laugh tumbles around in the air.
“I guess this was the world’s way of telling me to finally replace my book.”
Calum hangs his head low at the prospect of having ruined something that is clearly cherished. Even though it was not his kick that did it. He sighs deep from within his chest and looks back up.
“I’ll replace it,” he offers but a shake of the head kills that plan before it’s even in motion. He doesn’t want an awkward silence to follow so he introduces himself timidly, offers a hand and revels in the feel of a smooth and warm palm against his.
When you introduce yourself your voice goes softer. When your hand falls from his he feels cold creep along his skin. He finally collects himself enough to offer over the page he caught.
“There might be a few more around,” he says regretfully. “I caught what I could.”
You smile and it’s so genuine it’s almost startling.
“It’s okay,” you reassure and snap the book shut after tucking in what pages were rescued. “I’m already missing several.”
Calum laughs at the sheepish expression that crosses your face and the fact you’re reading a book with missing words.
“Can I at least get you a new coffee?” he wonders as he takes in the empty cup and running liquid anywhere and everywhere but the mug it was meant to be in. He lets his heart hang in tandem with hope and anticipation as you bite your lip and think it over.
“I don’t really have time for another one today,” you say as Calum feels his heart start to crash. “It was almost gone anyway.”
He knows it’s a lie, that you’re saying so he won’t feel bad. So he won’t offer to pay for something else. So the guilt he’s sure that lives in his eyes might go away. So that maybe, you can get away. He nods and stands, intent on backing away and affording you the space he thinks you want, especially when he notices the nervous flutter of your eyes and hears the sharp intake of your breath.
He feels just as rattled but he’s not so sure your reasons are the same. He stops short when you rise, feels as if the least he should have done is offer you a hand up. You brush a mixture of dirt and coffee from your tights, clear your throat and meet his gaze. You cross your arms around your middle and he notes the way you sway when you stand and the dance your eyes impose as they flicker over him.
“I wish I could make it up to you,” Calum admits in a small whisper as he takes another sweeping glance around the destruction that’s been caused.
He knows it wasn’t his doing but he did nothing to stop the ball on its venture.
“You could. Tomorrow,” you say softly, so quiet it’s almost drowned out by the breeze trailing between the two of you.
Calum feels his heart falter at the prospect of tomorrow. Seeing you again. Making things right. He has a notion in his mind, a plan that’s quickly forming as wildflowers stir in the warm air behind you. Purples and yellows clash together in a bundle of green stems. Calum’s cheeks warms at the thoughts that riddle his mind.
“Maybe we could meet for coffee.” Your knees knock together and you hold yourself a little bit tighter after the prolonged stretch of silence and your leap of faith. “Or something like that. If you wanted to.”
Calum quickly nods as he notes the stress and anxiety in your eyes. He’s not quiet on purpose, he wishes and wills for words to come out but there’s something about you that gets him flustered and shy. He nods still, fervently, tongue tied as his hands waver uncertainly at his sides.
“Something like that,” Calum finally manages to get out with a breath of exhalation. He feels freed as he commits to tomorrow. “Meet you here, around two?” he asks with a raised eyebrow and all of his heart and hope on his sleeve.
“That sounds good,” you confirm with a smile that makes him warm and glow and taste the sweetness of flowers perfume pluming through the air. “I’ll see you then.”
You collect your things and make to leave but Calum stops you short with a soft grip on your elbow as he notices something amiss. You’re still in his hold and he feels his skin prickle at the contact of his fingers on your soft skin. He gently moves foward, eases his free hand up and plucks a candied heart from a tangle in your hair. It lays flat in his palm. It’s a familiar candy, but the name evades him for a moment. Be Mine is written across the center in pink text. He nearly loses his breath at the intimacy of the moment as his eyes shoot back up to you.
“Sweetheart,” he mumbles as he finally remembers the candy’s name.
You furiously warm at the word and the gaze he holds as he offers the heart back to you.
You take it with a timidity that makes Calum even more tongue tied. With a laugh that makes him want to hear it again and again. After a brush of your fingers against his palm and a kiss of the wind in the place of you, Calum watches you walk away, wondering if this is the beginning of something that could last.
* * *
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There are no people in what I’ve written. Only ghosts. — Susan Sontag
1. mahmoud darwish | 2. a ghost story (2017, david lowery) | 3. sylvia plath | 4. a ghost story (2017, david lowery) | 5. emily brontë | 6. a ghost story (2017, david lowery) | 7. harry styles | 8. a ghost story (2017, david lowery) | 9. kathleen graber | 10. a ghost story (2017, david lowery) | 11. ovid | 12. a ghost story (2017, david lowery) | 13. richard siken
Summary | It’s a dangerous game of keeping your heart in check when the handsome lacrosse player in your biology class asks for your help, and he’s determined to weasel his way into your life one disarming smile at a time.
Pairing | college! lacrosse player!tom holland x tutor!reader
Warnings | minimal sport puns, inappropriate references involving a lacrosse stick, off the chart soft vibes, defiling of a library bookshelf, a wild harrison, smut (oral - f receiving, implied hand job) 18+ only
WC | 15k
A/N | let me just say that I know nothing about lacrosse except for what this guy I sat next to in my english class senior year of high school taught me so I dedicate this to you, Matt. I sincerely hope you never see this x
I really think that, similar to how looking at advertising and influencers and such for too long can be bad for your own self-image, listening only to professionally-recorded and produced songs can change how you view music as a whole, and that’s dangerous
guess what! you can sing! and I don’t mean like, “just try, I’m sure you’ll sound fine! :)” no, I mean that as a human being, as a creature on this earth, you can and should vibrate your vocal chords to make a variety of sounds, in whatever way makes you happy, no matter what the fuck it sounds like to anybody else
hey! nobody actually has a perfect voice! nobody sings the correct notes 100% of the time! almost every musical artist uses some form of pitch correction these days! and that’s okay, for the most part!
but if you can, please listen to people sing, just random average people. find some friends and sit in a circle and sing your favorite camp songs. tell bad jokes, and laugh together, and take turns singing whatever is in your soul! fuck, just start singing bohemian rhapsody somewhere, or piano man, and listen to everyone when they join in, and hear how different their voices all sound
music and singing aren’t just for people who can do it well enough to make money from it! you should sing whenever you have the chance, because you’re alive, and because you can, and you don’t need any better reason than that!
and before anyone jumps in with, “pfft, if you heard my voice, you wouldn’t want me to sing-” I’ve just got to say, like. listen.
listen.
I love music. you know I do; I run a music blog (well, insomuch as anything I make can be called “music”) and I listen to music all the time
but the best music I’ve ever heard in my entire goddamn life has come from regular people, not professional singers. people whose voices crack and who sometimes can’t hold a tune to save their lives, but who sing because they want to, because they know that music doesn’t belong just to people who can “make it” in the entertainment industry - it belongs to everybody.
that means you, too
and no matter if you’re bad at it - or if you think you’re bad at it - if you want to sing, you can! and if you want to listen to other people sing, you can find a way to do that, too
A story about a girl who likes movies more than she likes people, a boy who holds the world in the palm of his hands, three cities that hold a piece of them captive in the cracks of the pavement, and fourteen years of always being just close enough, but never nearly there.
full synopsis // read on wattpad // join the taglist // banner credit
Summary: Tom’s been in love with you for years, but he’s never had to confidence to tell you. Instead he’s been there to pick up the pieces whenever someone else breaks your heart.
Words: ~15k it’s what I’m aiming for anyway
Warnings: for the whole fic: SMUT 18+, best friends to lovers, angst, reader being in a kind of toxic relationship with someone else (before breaking up, no cheating), (horny) idiots in love, loosely inspired by 5SOS’s Heartbreak Girl
A/N: I’ve worked so hard on this one so please don’t let it flop lmao. If you don’t know/haven’t heard Heartbreak Girl by 5 Seconds of Summer before I highly recommend listening to it before or while reading :))
Feedback is always appreciated ❤️
Tom lifts his water bottle to his lips and empties within seconds. He always gives everything on stage, and that means he’s thirsty as if he hadn’t had water in years after every gig. He screws the bottle shut and throws it into the bin in the corner of the small dressing room. He raises his arms up in victory, the rest of the band applauding him. He doesn’t always aim this well. Today must be a good day for him, he thinks.
But that thought is quickly pushed aside as the door to the dressing room opens, and you step inside, followed by your boyfriend. Maybe it’s not a good day after all.
“You guys were amazing!” There’s the biggest smile on your face, and Tom immediately mirrors it. Your smile is contagious; it always is.
“Thanks, love. So were you.” He gets up from his seat on the sofa and pulls you into a hug.
“Ew, you’re sweaty!” You protest, trying to wriggle yourself out of his grasp. Tom throws his head back with a laugh, but lets go of you anyway. As much as he’d like to keep holding you, he can’t.
“Nice show.” Drew nods his head at Tom, the expression on his face grim.
“Cheers.” He reciprocates the nod, then looks back at you. “The lads and I are going to my place in a bit. You wanna join?” He’s only asking you, but he’s aware that he’ll have to deal with Drew as well.
“I can’t.” Your mouth pulls into a frown. “I promised Drew I’d go to this party with him.”
“Yeah, and we gotta go now.” Drew grumbles, and it takes everything in Tom not to roll his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” You push your bottom lip forward a little, and Tom wishes he could just lean in and take it between his teeth before covering your lips with his. Tom blinks the mental image away. Not useful. At all.
“It’s okay. Next time” He forces a smile.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” You squeeze his forearm, his skin burning at the contact. He’s way too far gone for you. He’s a hopeless case.
“Yeah, okay. Have fun.” He wants to at least place a kiss on your cheek, but he knows it’s the wrong thing to do. Especially with your boyfriend right there. So he opts for a friendly squeeze on your shoulder.
And then you leave.
When Tom turns around, he’s met with the pitiful looks of his bandmates. “What?” He grumbles and lets himself fall onto the worn sofa again.
“You’re so far gone for her, mate.” Harrison shakes his head. Tom knows that denying it won’t work. These guys know him better than anyone, and they’re the only ones who know how he feels about you. “Will you ever tell her?”
“Unlikely.”
coming soon if you want to be tagged in this one shot please send me an ask! <3
tagging some people who might be interested: @spidermanlondon ☆ @duskholland ☆ @heyhihellowhatsup0 ☆ @annathesillyfriend ☆ @hazofmyheart ☆ @emilykjh ☆ @alinastarkrovs ☆ @sinisterspidey ☆ @lovebittenbyevans ☆ @miraclesoflove ☆ @seasidetom ☆ @selfcarecap ☆ @missevrythingg ☆ @screamholland ☆ @softholand @hotforharrison ☆ @osterfield-holland-andcompany ☆ @worldoftom ☆ @thecodyexpress ☆ @greenorangevioletgrass ☆ @rosyparkers (I’ll probably be tagging you guys in the one shot as well bc I’m scared of the thing flopping lmao)
turnnoffyourmind
blakekathryn
prguitarman
snowghoul
romaincrisis
stormborns
