Most Reblogged Bands

1! 2! 3! 4! [drum set collapses]

  1. 5 Seconds of Summer | Official Tumblr
  2. One Direction | Official Tumblr
  3. Twenty One Pilots | Official Tumblr
  4. Fall Out Boy | Official Tumblr
  5. Panic! At The Disco | Official Tumblr
  6. All Time Low
  7. Fifth Harmony | Official Tumblr
  8. My Chemical Romance
  9. The 1975 | Official Tumblr
  10. Bring Me The Horizon
  11. Paramore | Official Tumblr
  12. Pierce the Veil | Official Tumblr
  13. Arctic Monkeys
  14. Black Veil Brides | Official Tumblr
  15. Odd Future | Official Tumblr
  16. Sleeping With Sirens | Official Tumblr
  17. Little Mix 
  18. Nirvana | Official Tumblr
  19. The Beatles
  20. PVRIS | Official Tumblr
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Matty interview // Lollapalooza Berlin

“1,975 Reasons”

SNEAK PEEK

In which Harry gives her 1975 reasons he loves her. There are two parts to this story. Two different fics, but if I did it all at once you would be reading for days - plus, I want to build anticipation (or torture you) ;)

Let me know what you think!


Though you told Harry several times, on multiple occasions – even during sex – over the past week that you did not want a hoorah for your anniversary, you just wanted to be with him all day, he listened – but he didn’t listen. Harry was notorious for showering you with personalized (and expensive) gifts, going over the top on your birthday, and Christmas, leaving Valentine’s day to a simple night in of his cooking and a bottle of wine, which you cherished the most. You told him time and time again you just wanted him, no material things – so when he pulled you into the limo that evening for a ‘surprise’ you were halfway angry, figuring you two were going somewhere on a private jet.

           But, when the limo stopped about 20 blocks from his flat, you sat and looked at him from the other side of the car, glancing at the scenery behind him. Buildings, it was as if he took you downtown. Your stomach turned.

           “What are you up to?” you asked nervously, a smirk on his lips as he looked around, giggling softly to himself.

           “Nothin’”, he got out on his side and you watched him walk around the headlights, opening your door. He reached for your hand as he did, the smirk still on his lips but nothing too serious, but serious enough to keep your worries at the front of your stomach. You took his outstretched hand cautiously as he peered down at you, helping you out of the limo.

           Wrapping your pea coat around your shoulders to protect yourself from the evening chill of London, you crossed your arms in front of you and he wrapped an arm around you, hugging your bicep so that you were snugly fit to his chest, rubbing your arm for extra warmth.

           “Harry you’re freaking me out”, you thought for a minute he was going to propose, which the two of you discussed several times you were not ready for – at the moment, you thought your intestines were going to explode from the mere thought of it. You haven’t even moved in with him yet, you thought, as he started to walk with you.

           The chill hit your nose as you glanced up at him, who was still very wordless, but the smirk on his face spoke for you, and you remember you didn’t want to look at it again or you were probably going to hurl, glancing quickly at your shoes. A block or so later, you could see people – a lot of them, and Harry stopped dead in his tracks and his brows pulled together, the smirk leaving his face.

           “Bettah wait here” he mumbled and licked the cold off his lips, a normal smile on his lips as he turned to face you, holding your hands, kissing your temple, “Promise it’s nothin’” he re-assured you. You rolled your eyes and grabbed his cold hands that were cupping your cheeks, knowing that promise all too well, and how he never kept it.

           “Harry…” you sighed, “I can’t…. I can’t…” you tried to get the word vomit out, but there was nothing coming up. You felt like you were going to simultaneously collapse and choke, not sure which way to take first. Harry pulled his face from your skin and held his hands beside your head, the look of worry and concern was etched all over his perfect face.

           “Don’t do that”, you pressed your thumb into his wrinkles, smiling, “I just, I can’t… we talked about… I’mjustnotreadyharry”, you started to mix your words together and he took a half step closer, pecking you on the lips. His were always so plush, warm, and always, even if it was the slightest peck, took your breath away.

           “No, no no – love, no… S’not tha’… maybe one day when we’re both good n’ ready, but right now I’m jus’ fine like this”, he kissed your temple again when he could feel you sigh in relief, “plus, we’ve talked ‘bout it. No’ yet, don’ get all flustered like yeh do”, he pinched your waist under your coat, biting his bottom lip.

           “Harry Styles! I have no idea what I’m in for with you. You can’t blame me, can you?” you reacted quickly, your hand finding its way out the coat, pinching at his collarbone and he yelped, jumping a bit.

           “Ow!” He half yelped, half giggled, enveloping you in one of his ‘danger’ hugs.

           His ‘danger’ hugs came from when you were being a pest and he needed you to be quiet – his arms wound around your head, leaving a small space for you to breathe under his armpit, which you got wise about and if you were quick – you could nip the skin and he would let go immediately. But tonight you needed to be trapped, needed to smell his cologne and his hair and just him – needed to calm down in the safety of his strong arms, so you willingly took the hug, the death grip, and melted into it.

           You were there for what felt like forever, swearing up and down you could fall asleep like this – comfortable, warm, loved – until he pulled away, the cold air back on your face, a pout instinctively on your bottom lip, hair flying in different directions from the sudden static cling magnetic force.

           “Oh, button”, he pulled at your bottom lip and let it go quickly, “C’mon. You’ll cheer up, soon. Promise”, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the spot where the massive crowd was standing – but they have appeared to have vanished into thin air on the street that you rounded the corner on.

           And then, you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling Harry on the arm.

           “Um…” you looked up at the bright marquee on the obvious stage entrance, where the people have all disappeared to – the lights were bright and rotated around a sign that read:

                       LIVE TONIGHT: THE 1975

                                   SOLD OUT.

           Your jaw hung wide open. This was one of the bands you only listened to every hour of every single day, have been the subject of many of your make-out sessions with Harry, and you have wanted to see them for ages but were always too slow to buy, always missing them. You felt the tears well in your eyes, missing another show that was literally right under your nose, until you turned and glanced at harry.

           He had the biggest grin on his face – that cheesy, “you better kiss me” grin. He raised his eyebrows, and then – you saw them.          

           Two pink tickets were in his hand, that said “THE 1975”.