Mr Cutie/s (tomhollandxreader) (noahschnappxreader)

OJ

"Y/N, would you please read your vows" announced the priest calmly.

He seemed very calm. A bit too calm. Well what can you say, it is your wedding and You're probably stressing out so much.

Strangely, Paddy Holland handed you a sheet of paper that had your well prepared speech on it and he stared straight into your eyes that screamed "don't do it". But you had to continue.

Before you spoke, you took a look at your family and friends. Some was smiling, some was crying. Your brother and your father had the proudest face, but as you looked to the back of the crowd, you saw an unfamiliar face staring at you, dead in the eyes. He was on the edge of tears but he started walking towards you and slowly picking up his pace, but a body guard came in front of him sweeping the young boy up and taking him away.

You were distracted by your trembling hands from excitement as you started to think that you get to spend the rest of your life with the man of your dreams standing in front of you. Noah schnapp.

Literally.

You have dreams about his beautiful hazel eyes.

You unfolded the paper. You Took a deep breath as you could feel your heart beating in your chest and you began;
"Throughout my life, I have encountered many different people with many different stories and I have met them many different ways. But with you, the man of my dreams, I couldn't have imagined a better journey that we have shared together and a better story I could share..."

7:16am, Thursday,

Beep, beep, beep
The sound of my alarms clock rang like a drill was digging into your head.

You groaned, as you realised that was, yet again, another great dream has ended and hell has started.
Just great.

You turn off the alarm clock and get up to find some clothes in your wardrobe and found an outfit that describes your everyday mood unquestionably:
Depressed.

(Choose any one u want)

You were "officially" diagnosed with depression about 5 months ago, but apparently you've had it for more then a year, according to your Dad.

Honestly, you think it's just hormones and shit but nobody's gonna listen to a "depressed teenager".

5 months ago was also when your family decided to move to the UK.

What a great way to spend your Christmas holidays, packing and unpacking boxes.

So this means new country, new home and a new school.
Ughhhh!!! you hate starting over at new schools!

It's been four weeks and you still haven't manage to form any sentences - that make sense - to make some "friends".

So it's another day of school, where you feel drained and get drawned into loserville with all your friends.
Population: 2
Myself and the bin chicken
that continuously follows me, everywhere.

Bin chicken - aka an Ibis
Name: undecided
Age: unknown
Sex: male - don't ask
Characteristics: annoying, loves food, probably has separation anxiety

This bird won't stop following you around. He acts if your his mother or something and he's the only one that sits with you at lunch.
Loner much.

Like one time, the bell had rang and you were racing to class because you were already late, and this bin chicken kept squawking at you while following you.
And of course you, TRIED, to shoo him away but It. Did. Not. Work!

Since this flying animal is the only thing keeping me sane, yes, I'm going to give it a name.

But I'm stumped. I'm thinking Craig, but then I'm thinking Johnny, maybe.

This just shows how much time I have on my hands.

You put on your clothes on and you walk to the bathroom. You pull out your makeup bag from the cupboard, but you didn't apply it to your face for all of your disgusting acne - You don't care about that shit.
It's for all your cuts.

"Suicidal" some say.

To be honest, it doesn't really hurt when you stroke your forearms with your fingertips, more like a discomfort.

Thankfully my family don't know about this. If they found out about this then we would probably moved to another country again,  like Switzerland or even Jamaica.

You apply your foundation to your scars to clear up the mess. Your put your really long, silky, yet kinda curly, hair up in a messy bun on top of your head with no enthusiasm what-so-ever, and brushed your teeth.

You head down stairs to, supposedly, grab your breakfast and go, but you should know by now that your Dad will never allow that.

He always tries to lift your mood up before you go to school with boring positive quotes from "powerful and strong" female celebrities.

You look around the corner into the kitchen where you Dad is preparing you and your brother a 3 course meal for breakfast, as usual.

As he goes to grab the eggs from the pantry, you race to grab the toast that he has already prepared with butter and homemade strawberry jam on the other side of the bench, but as you reach for the OJ to quickly chug down, you accidentally knock the glass off the bench and it shatters into thousands of pieces with an ear piercing smash.

My Dad was so startled, it looked like he nearly touched the ceiling of the walk-in pantry.

Nice one Y/N, get ready to go further than hell!