#I’m usually online a bit during the day but don’t typically reblog much

[sand-worms]

I’m likely not going to be online much tomorrow so I’ve scheduled a number of asks I’ve received for aid to post through a chunk of the day as a heads up 👍

[sunflowervolvimp3]

changes (best friend!harry)

Warnings: language, nsfw content, drugs (marijuana) and alcohol

Pairing: best friend!Harry x reader

Word Count: 17k (holy shit)

A/N: So this started as two requests I had in my inbox that I got way too into and then it became this. this may be the longest stand-alone fic I’ve ever written, and it, like watermelon sugar, is dedicated to touching!!!! I spent so long on this so as always. feedback is appreciated. and if you like it, please reblog it!!! reblogging is the best way to show fic writers your appreciation <3

{masterlist}

Unless she’s reminded otherwise, Y/N always thinks of herself as a teenager.

This, of course, isn’t true. She turned twenty-six a month ago, works as a media producer for an online clothing company, and lives alone in a one bedroom apartment in London.  However, unless she physically has something in front of her to remind her of her real age and the passing of time, Y/N disregards this information.

Usually, the reminder is a bill in the mail, or a phone call to remind her that she needs to book an appointment with her doctor.  Usually, the reminder is an ache in her back, her glasses prescription getting worse, or realizing that she has no idea what her teenage cousins are talking about when she sees them at Christmas.  Usually, the reminder is enough to give her pause, but not enough to throw her for a loop.

This time, however, the reminder is her childhood best friend naked in her bathroom.

Y/N and Harry had been friends since they were in primary school, after Y/N had moved to London with her mother.  Their new house just happened to be next to Harry’s, and Anne and Y/N’s mother had quickly hit it off.  Anne had been quick to volunteer her son to be Y/N’s tour guide at school, and despite not being enthusiastic about each other in the beginning, the two began to grow closer by the end of Y/N’s first week there.  Within a month, the two were inseparable, and that didn’t change as they entered their teen years, started secondary school, and Harry left London to become a member of the most famous boyband in the world.  Just typical teen things.

However, despite their distance, Y/N and Harry had remained as close as ever.  They constantly texted, called, and video chatted with each other, and Y/N even joined Harry on tour a few times (with permission from her mother).  Although both of them had been worried when Harry left, their worries and fears never came to fruition.  Just as they balanced each other in personality, they balanced each other in lifestyle—when Y/N needed a break from high school and university, Harry brought her to shows, award ceremonies, and parties, and when Harry felt like his fame was overwhelming, Y/N sent him reminders of home, hosted countless movie nights for him, and told him story after story of university life.

They were so perfectly matched that, when they were younger, many people—and tabloids—suspected that they were dating.  Even their mothers had asked them, on occasion, if one of them had any interest in the other.  However, their answers were always the same.  Y/N and Harry were best friends, and nothing more.  Sure, they were touchy, affectionate, called each other pet names, and had even kissed on a few occasions during truth or dare at parties, but none of it actually meant anything.  Y/N had watched Harry grow from a cute kid to an awkward teen to a self-assured man, and her feelings for him had never changed, and an attraction to him had never developed.

Until now.

Harry’s facing away from her, his towel in his hand as he dries his chest.  His entire body glistens with water from the shower.  Y/N can’t stop herself from letting her eyes canvas over every inch of his smooth arms, toned back, down lower to his—

Her breath catches in her throat.  Yeah. His ass is toned, too, she thinks to herself, and only has another moment to think that she shouldn’t be looking before Harry glances over his shoulder, alarmed by the small sound she had made.

“Y/N—” His eyes widen a bit, but he doesn’t make an effort to cover himself with his towel very quickly.

Her eyes automatically follow his movement for a moment before she realizes what she’s about to see. “Sorry!” Y/N turns around quickly, her face heated. “Sorry, I—the door was unlocked, I didn’t realize you were—”

“It’s fine.” Harry fixes his towel around his waist. “Don’t worry about—”

Y/N leaves the bathroom before he can finish his sentence, walking to her bedroom quickly and shutting the door tightly behind her.

Harry, it seems, is today’s reminder that she’s no longer a teenager, because his body is that of a man.

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, she tells herself, walking to her dresser to pick out a change of clothes.  Y/N’s seen him half naked countless times.  The whole world has seen Harry half naked countless times.  But she’s never seen him like that.

When did Harry grow up? Somehow, between movie nights and pool parties and going away to school, Y/N had failed to notice that her childhood best friend is no longer a child.  Harry had grown into his features, developed muscles in his arms and chest, tattooed designs all over his skin, and had become an incredibly attractive adult without her noticing.

Y/N pulls her pajamas off quickly, stopping to glance at herself in her full length mirror.  She, like Harry, is also no longer a child. She had grown into her features like he had, had gotten a few tattoos, made her share of mistakes, and became an adult the same way he did.  Neither her nor Harry’s growth had happened overnight.

As she runs her hand between her chest, down her stomach, brushing her hip, Y/N can’t help but wonder: has Harry noticed that they’ve grown up?  Does he still look at her and see the shy little girl, the developing teenager, or does he look at her and see a grown woman?  Is she the only one who’s been late to the party?

Y/N feels a flutter in the pit of her stomach.  Is it possible that, at some point, Harry looked at her and had the same realization that she had a moment ago?  That not only had she grown into a woman, but that she had grown into an attractive woman?

The sound of the bathroom door opening distracts Y/N from her thoughts, and she hurries to finish getting dressed.  Her shirt, she finds when she pulls it on, smells a bit like Harry’s cologne, as she had set it on the side of the bed that he slept on the night before.  She likes it more than she should.

After she’s dressed, she debates just staying in her bedroom to avoid facing Harry again for a bit longer. However, she can hear him working her coffee maker in the kitchen, and knows she can’t hide in her bedroom like a child.  She isn’t a child.

Neither is he, she thinks to herself as she touches her bedroom doorknob. Which is the problem.

Still, Y/N shakes herself from her thoughts and walks out to her kitchen.

Harry, now dressed in wide leg jeans and a plain white t-shirt, is leaning against her kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand.  His hair is still wet from his shower, but other than that, he looks normal. Completely normal.

And yet, Y/N can’t manage to meet his eyes.

“Good morning.” Harry’s voice is low, a bit of amusement in it as he notices her demeanor. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” Y/N hates how tight her voice is as she grabs a mug from the kitchen cabinet. “I slept fine. Did you?”

Harry nods, his eyes still tracing her every move as her own eyes avoid him. “I did.  Woke up a bit early, though.  Thought I’d shower before brunch.”

Right.  Brunch.  They’re having brunch that day with a few old friends, at a place just down the street from Y/N’s apartment, which is why Harry had stayed over the night before.  Y/N was going to have to act normal around their other friends, which means she can’t avoid looking at him for much longer.

“I’m sorry.” She says as she pours a cup of coffee. “I am, I—I should’ve knocked.  I forgot you slept over, and—”

“It’s fine, Y/N.  I should’ve locked the door.” Harry says easily, the corner of his lips tugging up. “It’s not a big deal.  Besides, it’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

At that comment, Y/N pauses. “Except…I haven’t seen you naked before?”

Harry shakes his head adamantly. “No.  You have. There’s no way we’ve been friends for almost twenty years, and you haven’t.”

“Harry, believe me. I’ve seen you in a lot of weird positions over the years, but I’ve never seen you completely nude.” Y/N feels her regular ease with him begin to return, just a little bit. “I would remember that.”

“Would you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, his coffee cup half raised to his lips.

The bit of ease that returned disappears immediately. “I—” Y/N’s cheeks heat up again. “Shut up, you know what I meant.”

Harry tries to hide his laugh behind his coffee, but fails. “I’m just teasing you, love.  It’s fine, promise.  I don’t mind that you saw.  I’m very comfortable in my body.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Too comfortable, I think.”

“Is there such a thing as being too comfortable in your body?” Harry asks in a teasing voice, crossing his arms.

“When your best friend walks in on you naked and you don’t bother to cover yourself?” Despite the blush on her cheeks, Y/N manages to laugh. “Yes.  There is.”

“I don’t know…” Harry finishes his coffee and sets the mug in the kitchen sink. “It sounds like there’s issues with your comfort, not mine.”

Before Y/N can form a reply, Harry shoots her a smirk and walks out of the kitchen.

For the rest of the day, Y/N does her best not to think about that morning’s awkward encounter. Brunch with her friends is normal, and she just lets herself enjoy having Harry home, and catching up with everyone.  The afternoon also passes in an unremarkable way, as does that night.  Over the next few days, however, things begin to change.

Within two weeks, the atmosphere of the country has shifted.  There’s a virus that’s highly contagious and can be fatal, Y/N’s work tells her to work from home, and soon the entire country is being told to stay home to avoid catching Coronavirus.

And then Harry texts her two days later, without any warning or leeway for her to disagree.

I’m on the last flight back to London.  Pack a bag and bring some groceries to my place, so we can isolate together.  You’ll go crazy alone in your flat.

Y/N tries to reply that it’s not necessary, but her message doesn’t go through.  Harry’s already on the plane.  So she does what he says, and packs a bag of clothes, her work bag, some alcohol, and her favourite snacks, and drives over to his house.

Letting herself in with her key, Y/N begins to bring the house back to life.  She lights Harry’s candles and orders some dinner, as well as groceries for the next couple weeks.  She makes sure she gets his favourite foods, and the weird snacks that only he likes.  She calls her mum to tell her she’ll be with Harry, and Anne, to tell her the same thing. And then she waits.

When Harry finally walks through the front door, he looks more like the tired seventeen year old on his first tour than the grown man she had seen a few weeks ago.  The bags under his eyes are evidence of his jetlag and stress, his jacket is rumpled from the plane, his hair just as messy, and he looks like he could collapse the second the door closes behind him.

“H.” Y/N walks towards him and gives him a tight hug.  One hand goes to his back and the other to his hair, playing with it as she always does. “Are you alright?”

“Long flight.” Harry mutters in reply, eyes closed as he holds her tight. “Everyone’s going insane in the States.  I’m lucky I got a flight back to London.”

“Why did you?” Y/N pulls back, brushing his messy hair from his eyes. “You could’ve stayed in LA.”

“Yeah, but…” Harry shrugs a bit. “I knew you’d be alone.  And I wanted to be with you.”

Y/N can’t help the soft smile that creeps onto her face. “C’mon.  I have dinner ready.”

Harry barely makes it through dinner with his eyes open, but still insists on watching a movie after. Y/N tries to tell him that he should just go to sleep, but he won’t hear it.

“We can watch it in my bed, like we used to when we were little.” Harry gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

Y/N shoves his shoulder. “You’re twenty-six.  Stop pouting to get what you want.”

“I’ll stop pouting when it stops working.”

Y/N laughs in spite of herself. “Fine, but shower first.  You smell like a plane.”

Of course, as predicted, Harry starts to drift to sleep within the first half hour of the movie. He slips down in the bed more and more, until his head is in Y/N’s lap completely.  Out of habit, Y/N begins to play with his damp curls, running her fingers through them at a steady pace as she watches the movie.

Harry’s breathing begins to even out as she does, and Y/N begins to pay more attention to him than the TV.  When they spend the night with each other, Y/N always falls asleep first.  It’s rare she gets to see him completely relaxed.

As much as she loves his green eyes, his eyelashes may be a close second.  They’re so long and dark that they almost make Y/N jealous.  And his cheeks…she brings one hand up to gently touch them.  They’re stubbled from his long day of travel, but the skin underneath feels soft. Despite having lost his baby fat years ago, there’s still a layer of tenderness in his body.

Y/N is so distracted by him that she doesn’t realize that she’s stopped playing with his hair, not until Harry speaks up.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice is groggy with exhaustion, lower, with a thicker accent.  His words slur together as well

“Hm?” Y/N hums in her throat in response. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Not really.” Harry’s eyes stay closed as he shifts his position a bit. “Will you play with my hair a bit longer?  Feels nice.”

The movie credits roll in the background as Y/N does what he says.  Harry sighs contently, relaxing back into her again.

Y/N turns the TV off, so the only light in the room comes from the moon through the open curtains. It shines over half of Harry’s face, catching the ends of his eyelashes.  Somehow, the moonlight makes his cheeks and lips even more pink.  

“You’re really pretty, y’know that?” Y/N says it absentmindedly, her fingers still combing through Harry’s curls.

“Thanks.” He has just enough energy to mumble a response. “’M, not as pretty as you, though.”

Y/N’s stomach flutters when he says it, so quiet that she’s not even certain she heard him correctly. “Liar.”

“’S true.” Harry’s reply is even less audible than before. “So pretty.”

If Harry was awake and more present in the conversation, Y/N might tease him.  She might try to make him blush, or roll his eyes, or laugh. Maybe, just maybe, she’d even ask him to elaborate, just enough that she could figure out what the fluttering in her stomach means.

But Harry is hardly awake right now.  And it wouldn’t be fair.

“Go to sleep, H,” is all Y/N says, shifting to lay down a bit more without pausing the movement of her fingers.

…

It takes Harry a few days to readjust to London time.  While Y/N spends her weekdays working from the kitchen table, Harry naps and fiddles with his guitar and journal.  While she can tell he’s working on something, Y/N can also tell that he’s not making much process.

A week after coming back from LA, Harry half stomps into the kitchen during the afternoon, frustration clear on his face as he opens the fridge and grabs an apple.  He bites into it angrily and leans against the counter, the irritation still on his face.

Y/N glances at him from behind her laptop. “Everything alright?”

Harry gives half a shrug. “Trying to write.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Fucking sucks.” Harry takes another bite of the apple. “I thought I’d feel more inspired, being at home and not having deadlines, but I can’t get anything out.  Not anything good, anyways.”

“I know the feeling.” Y/N sighs as she closes her laptop. “There’s been a huge surge in online orders, and my boss wants me to create more promo material, but it’s hard to focus on anything right now.”

Harry nods and glances out the window. “Doesn’t help that it’s a beautiful day, but we can’t go out.”

“We can go out.  We just can’t leave the property.” Y/N replies. “You have a giant backyard.  Why don’t you use it?”

“Yeah.  Maybe I’ll go for a swim.” Harry takes another bite of his apple. “You want to come?”

Y/N laughs a bit. “Unlike you, H, I have a real nine to five job.  I’m on the clock for another two hours.”

“After, then.” Harry tosses his apple core in the compost and gives her a grin. “I hope you packed that yellow bikini.”

Y/N crumples a piece of scrap paper in her hand and throws it at him. “Piss off.”

Y/N did, in fact, pack her yellow bikini.  However, when she’s changing from her clothes into a swimsuit, she chooses her blue bikini instead, just to have a bit of agency.  Every instinct in her is telling her to wear what Harry said to, and it’s a little concerning.  She’s never cared about dressing for him before, and she isn’t prepared to start.

Despite the different colour, Harry still grins from the edge of the pool when he sees her walk out. “Look at you.  Should’ve put you in the Watermelon Sugar music video.”

“Shut up.” Y/N sits on the edge of the pool, dangling her lets in the water.  Harry rests his head on his arms, his cheeky grin still on his face as he looks up at her.

“I’m serious.” He says innocently. “It was a fun day.  You really would’ve liked it.”

“Of course you thought it was fun; you had a bunch of beautiful girls fawning over you and feeding you fruit.” Y/N rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses. “You’re such a narcissist.”

“All musicians are narcissists, love.  At least, the best ones are.” Harry’s grin grows as he pushes away from the ledge. “Are you going to just sit there and look pretty, or are you actually going to swim?”

“I’m going to tan.” Y/N leans her head back, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun.

Harry shakes his head. “No, sorry.  The pool is for swimming only.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

In hindsight, Y/N should’ve known what Harry was about to do.  She’s been friends with him long enough that she knows how his brain works. However, Y/N is enjoying the sun so much that she lets her guard down for one moment, and that one moment is all Harry needs.

She feels his hands grip her legs, and before she can stop him, he pulls her into the pool.  Her entire body submerges, and when she finally rises, gasping for air, the only thing she can hear is Harry’s snickering.

“You’re such an ass!” Y/N hits his shoulder hard, not caring about leaving a mark on him. “That’s not funny!”

“The pool is for swimming only.  I told you.” Harry can’t stop laughing long enough to make it through his sentence clearly. “Them’s the rules.”

“Them’s the rules.” Y/N repeats in a mocking voice, hitting him one more time. “You’re the worst.”

“Maybe, but you’re stuck with me.” Harry runs a hand through his wet hair. “At least until quarantine is done.”

“I should’ve stayed alone in my apartment.” Y/N mutters, tossing her wet sunglasses on the pool ledge. “Would’ve been so much more peaceful.”

“And boring.” Harry points out. “And you wouldn’t get to take relaxing swims like this!”

“Right.  Relaxing.” Y/N splashes him playfully. “Jerk.”

Harry just grins at you.

…

“Want one?”

Y/N glances at Harry as he packs loose marijuana into a wrapper, concentration clear on his face as he rolls it.

“You learn how to roll those in LA?” Y/N asks, taking a sip of her wine.

Harry chuckles lightly, his skin illuminated by the fire burning in front of them and the moon above them. “Yeah.  I’m not very good, though.  Usually I have somebody else to roll them for me.”

“So high maintenance.”

Another low laugh rolls out of Harry’s mouth. “Ha.  High maintenance.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but an endearing smile is on her face. “It’s still illegal in the U.K., you know.”

“I doubt the police are going to break social distancing rules to arrest me for it.” Harry’s tongue pokes out of his mouth as he tries his best to roll the joint tightly.

Y/N watches as Harry brings the wrapper to his mouth, licking it lightly.  To her dismay, her attraction to Harry had yet to fade, and spending every moment of the day together wasn’t helping.

“I’m not an eighteen year old girl on your tour bus anymore, Harry.” Y/N raises her wine glass. “I drink red wine now.  I’m sophisticated.”

Harry snorts, his eyes flickering to her before looking back down at the joint. “Sophisticated, right. Like you didn’t do body shots off the bartender at your birthday party this year.”

Y/N’s cheeks burn. “Birthdays don’t count.”

“Neither did tour buses, and neither does my backyard in the middle of a pandemic.” Harry seals the joint as best he can. “You may have a fancy job now, but you’re still my Y/N.”

His Y/N.  That phrase ignites the now familiar flutter in her stomach and, over the last few days, her core.  Something about Harry identifying her as his drives Y/N insane, even if it’s nothing new.

“And what exactly does your Y/N do?” She manages to say after a moment.

“She doesn’t take shit from anyone.  She gets drunk fast and high faster.  She’s always down for a laugh.  And, although she won’t admit it, she has a tendency to make bad decisions that she tries to suppress, but can’t always manage to do so.” Harry sparks his lighter and sticks the joint between his lips, lighting it and puffing it quickly.

“Then you should know that your Y/N can’t have a joint of her own.” Y/N steals the joint from Harry’s lips, taking a few puffs of her own from it before handing it back.

The smoke curls in her lungs, forcing a few coughs from her.

“Alright?” Harry asks, concern in his eyes.

Y/N nods, her hand pressed to her chest like she can stop the burn. “Yeah.  Just haven’t done that in a while.”

“You always cough so much. It would be cute if it wasn’t so bloody concerning.” Harry says casually, lifting the joint to his lips and inhaling.

Y/N watches as he exhales smoke slowly.  She wonders if she looks as attractive as he does when she blows out smoke.

Harry grins at her with just the corner of his mouth, like there’s a secret tugging at the edge of his lips.

Y/N really doubts it.

“Here.” Harry places the joint between her lips. “Inhale slowly.”

Y/N does as he says, doing her best to keep from coughing until the joint and his hand is away from her face.  Her eyes burn a bit, both from the smoke and the oncoming high that’s starting to twist through her body.

“That’s a good girl.” Harry praises her before leaning back, placing the joint back between his own lips. “You’ve gotten better at that.  Thought you were going to pass out the first time we smoked, remember?”

“I remember I almost did.” Y/N giggles to herself as she settles down into the couch more. “I coughed so much that I thought I was going to die on that tour bus.”

“Niall was certain you had.” Harry laughs too, and Y/N known they’re both playing back the same memory. “Wasn’t quite sure how we were going to explain that one to Paul.  Neither was I, honestly.”

“You don’t give me enough credit.” Despite the feeling coming over her, YN still takes another sip of her wine. “I was fine.”

Harry nods as he finishes the joint, setting the butt down into his ash tray. “Still…we had some fun nights on the bus when you were there.”

“That was a fun summer.” Y/N agrees, her eyes fixed on the fire before them. “Lots of good memories.”

As Y/N watches the fire, Harry watches her.  He lets another moment or two pass before speaking again.

“When you were on tour with us that summer…” He rubs his lips absentmindedly. “You and Niall.  Did you two ever…?”

“What?  Fuck?” The weed and the alcohol take away the careful tone of Y/N’s regular speech, leaving honesty and bluntness behind.

Harry laughs once. “I was going to say date, but yeah.  I guess so.”

“We didn’t date. We fooled around a few times.” Y/N shrugs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He was fun.  But we both knew it wasn’t anything serious, just something to do while I was on tour with you.”

Harry nods a bit, reaching for his own drink and taking a sip.  Y/N watches the movement with heavy lidded eyes.  His arm muscles flex underneath his tattooed skin when he moves, and the way his fingers wrap around his glass is fascinating to her.

“I figured he would have told you.” Y/N pulls her sweater around her tighter.  Now that the sun has set completely, a chill has appeared. “You guys always talked about girls together.”

“No, he didn’t tell me. And I didn’t ask.” Harry keeps his glass in his hand, looking down at it with an unreadable expression. “I thought you might tell me, but you didn’t, either.”

The substances in Y/N’s system are clouding her mind, but she does her best to focus on Harry’s words. As a way to ground herself, she pulls her sweater away from her body, hoping that the cold air will help.

“I’m sorry.” She says slowly, like it takes all her effort to get the words out. “I didn’t mean to…hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh.” Confusion fogs Y/N’s mind. “Then…why is it bothering you?”

“It’s not bothering me.” Harry denies, finishing off his drink. “I was just wondering why.  You usually tell me everything.  You always have.”

Y/N bites her lip. “I don’t tell you about every person I sleep with.”

Harry hums low in the back of his throat, but offers no other response.

After a few minutes, Y/N stands up. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Twisting his empty glass around in his hands, Harry nods. “Alright.  I’ll be up in a little bit.”

“You know, you have a guest room.” Y/N pauses, fiddling with the bottom of her sweater.  Her skin feels unsettled, and the fabric against it isn’t helping. “I should probably start using it.  Social distancing, and all that.”

Harry looks up at her, a stubborn look reflecting in his eyes. “No.  I sleep better with you beside me.”

When Harry finally comes up to bed an hour later, Y/N is still awake, eyes closed, with her back away from the door and head toward the wall.  She doesn’t turn over when she hears the door creak open, and instead just listens to the rustling sounds of Harry changing, going to the bathroom, washing his hands, and returning to the bedroom.

Y/N feels his weight on the bed, but doesn’t hear him slide in next to her.  Instead, she does her best to stay completely relaxed when she feels his fingers brush against her hairline, pushing back a few loose strands.

Staying completely relaxed, it turns out, is easier thought than done.  The moment Harry touches her, Y/N feels the nerves in her face burst to life. It’s like electricity, like nothing she’s ever felt before from any previous touches from Harry.  Behind her closed eyes, Y/N feels her head spinning, but she’s certain it must be the weed and the alcohol in her system.

Finally, the sheets are pulled back, and Harry gets under the covers.  He pulls Y/N back against him, and Y/N can feel the hot skin of his chest pressed against her shoulders.  Harry takes a moment to adjust before sighing, almost in content, and then he presses a gentle kiss to the back of her shoulder.

The tender action leaves Y/N speechless.  The action itself isn’t new; they had always been very physically affectionate with each other.  But there’s something about the moment that Y/N can’t quite place a finger on. Perhaps she would be able to if she was sober, or less tired, but with her brain in its current state, the words she needs are lost, and she’s certain she won’t remember the feeling in the morning.

Harry inhales deeply, his nose buried in her hair, and sighs again.  Y/N can feel him relaxing back against her, but his arms stay wrapped around her tightly.  It’s a comforting embrace, and makes it easy for Y/N’s mind to finally quiet and drift off.

…

“You’re still working?”

Y/N looks up from her laptop to see Harry standing above her, sweaty from his workout.  His hair is tied up in a little ponytail on top of his head, and he has a towel wrapped around his shoulders that he uses to wipe sweat from his face.  His body is literally glistening in the sunlight, and Y/N suddenly finds it very hard to focus on her work.

“I am.” She says finally, closing the lid of her laptop and stretching out on the beach chair. “Or I was. I’m done for today.”

“Good.” Harry sits down on the chair next to her. “I’m going to have a shower, but I was thinking we should try baking something later.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I want cupcakes, and homemade are way better than store bought.” Harry says easily, stealing Y/N’s water and taking a gulp from it.

Y/N watches his throat move as he swallows the water, how his Adam’s apple bobs, how he licks his lips when he finally pulls the glass away from his mouth.

Y/N’s own mouth suddenly feels very dry.

“Alright, yeah.” Y/N nods weakly. “We can bake something later.  It’ll be fun.”

…

“It’ll be fun.” Y/N shakes her head in disbelief. “God, I can’t believe I said that.”

“It was fun!” Harry argues, holding up a red velvet cupcake. “And we did it!”

“And we made a mess.” Y/N gestures to the kitchen around them, which looks like a warzone.  Flour, powdered sugar, and cocoa powder cover every counter surface.  There are broken eggshells on the counter, splatters of batter everywhere, and both Y/N and Harry have dyed red hands from food colouring.

“It could be worse.” Harry shrugs, clearly untroubled. “C’mon.  Try a cupcake.”

Y/N reaches for one, but Harry simply lifts the one in his hand to her mouth.  She locks eyes with him as she takes a bite, the icing smearing across her top lip.

Y/N chews slowly and swallows hard. “Yeah.  They’re good.”

Harry extends a hand, and his finger runs along her lip, collecting the icing.  He pops it into his mouth, sucking for a moment before humming in agreement. “Yeah.  Sweet.”

The cupcakes, it turns out, pair well with watermelon cocktails, and soon Y/N and Harry are sitting on the couch, takeout and cupcakes in front of them and drinks in their hands as they giggle and talk.  They’re intoxicated, but not just from the alcohol in the strong drinks that Harry makes.

“Honestly, working from home isn’t ideal, but it’s not that bad.” Y/N pops a bite of food into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Definitely not the worst part of quarantine.”

“Yeah?” Harry leans back on the couch. “What’s the worst part?”

Y/N shrugs. “It sucks being away from people, cooped up inside.”

Harry nods, but his face looks wistful. “I miss sex.”

Y/N laughs, but she nods in agreement as well. “Fuck, I know.  I miss sex so much.”

“It’s nice, you know? A good way to burn some energy…always sleep so well after…” Harry sighs, taking a sip of his drink between his phrases. “I feel like I’m back on a tour bus again, with no one around but my hand.”

A giggle escapes Y/N’s mouth. “How tragic.” She also takes a sip of her drink, and tries to stop herself from making a face.  Harry really does make them strong. “I just miss touching.  I haven’t been this touch starved since I was seventeen.”

Harry makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. “We touch.”

“That’s different.” Y/N finishes her drink. “That’s friendly touching.  It’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?” Harry challenges her, a glint in his eyes that Y/N’s come to recognize as a sign of trouble.

She refuses to take the bait. “You know what I meant.”

“I don’t.” Harry says it innocently, and he reaches forward to take her glass from her. “How about I get us some refills while you think of how to say it?”

Y/N lets him take the glass (she loves his drinks, despite how strong they are), but shakes her head. “Stop being an ass.  You know exactly what I meant.”

A low laugh rolls out of Harry as he walks to the built-in bar he has in the lounge.  He begins to recreate the drinks, muddling this, adding a splash of that.  If Harry wasn’t already a rock star, she’d suggest he become a mixologist.

“Maybe I do know what you meant.” Harry shakes the cocktail shaker with ease before straining the liquid out over their glasses, which he’s filled with fresh ice. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Y/N runs a hand through her hair.  She feels warm from the alcohol, and the lit candles around them aren’t helping.  The food and cupcakes sit on the table, all but forgotten in their new conversation. “Say what?”

Harry’s lips pull up in a smirk, but his eyes show something else.  He walks back over and hands her the drink before taking a seat next to her again. “The kind of touching you miss.”

Their fingers touch as Y/N takes the glass from him, and suddenly the warmth of the room feels ten times hotter. “You want me to say it?”

Harry lifts his glass to his lips, but keeps his eyes on her. “I do.”

“I…” Y/N takes a sip of the drink (which is stronger than the one before) and then presses the cold glass to her cheek. “I miss touching.  Intimate touching.  And…being touched intimately.”  

Harry inhales deeply, stretching out his shoulders before responding. “Yeah.  I miss that too.  Holding hands, touching someone’s stomach, chest, legs…having them play with my hair…”

“I play with your hair.” Y/N says defensively, a crease appearing between her eyebrows.

Harry laughs once. “Right, but like you said…that’s different.”

Y/N clears her throat. “Right.”

Harry takes a long sip from his drink. “’S still nice, though.” Harry adds after a moment, licking his lips. “I love when you play with my hair.  You know that.”

Nodding softly, Y/N begins to trail a finger over the rim of her glass.  Whenever she begins to get tipsy, she begins to fidget more, and feel freer in her actions.  And when Y/N glances back at Harry, she can tell he recognizes the sign as well.

“What about you?” He asks, bringing her back from her thoughts. “What do you miss having people do?”

Y/N drinks again, pulling her knees to her chest as she leans against the couch’s armrest. “I miss…having my hair played with, too.  That’s always nice.  I miss having my fingers played with…neck kisses…I like when people, like, rub my arms or thighs, just absentmindedly…” She leans her head against her arm. “Your turn.”

“My turn?” Harry rubs his nose lightly, and Y/N can tell he’s feeling the alcohol, too. “What’s my turn?”

“Tell me what else you like.” Y/N smiles softly, a small laugh just barely bubbling out from her. “We’ve never actually talked about it, H.  Isn’t that strange?”

Harry turns to face her more, pausing to think for a moment. “I suppose we’ve never been specific before, yeah.” He taps his thumb against his H ring. “I like being in control, usually. Telling them what to do, where to touch me…” His eyes get a faraway look in them. “But sometimes it’s nice to give up control.  Have someone else…”

“Decide.” Y/N finishes his sentence for him when he trails off. “Yeah.  I’m more like that, I think.  I usually let someone else decide.  But I like the in-between, too.  Like…both exploring each other.”

“What do you mean?” Harry cocks his head to the side curiously.

Y/N shrugs loosely, her finger still tracing her glass. “’S hard to explain.”

Harry’s voice is low when he replies, almost like he’s somewhere else. “Try.”

“Well…” Y/N takes a drink before setting her glass down. “It’s like…do you remember your first time?”

Harry blinks, surprised at the question, but nods. “Yeah.  I do.”

“And remember how nervous you were?”

“Yeah.”

“And like…” Y/N plays with her fingers as she ponders her next words. “You were nervous, yeah, but there was also this excitement in you.  Kind of like…a breathlessness.  And you looked at the other person and knew they…”

Harry closes his eyes for a moment. “Felt the same.”

“Yeah.” Y/N tucks her hair behind her ears. “And just, like, being comfortable with them, and knowing you could both explore, and ask questions, and you were both together…” Y/N feels heat rise to her cheeks as she trails off. “I don’t know.  I feel like that’s rare, but I—it’s nice.  I like it.”

“Yeah.” Harry rubs his thumb over his lip as he shifts his position on the couch. “It’s nice, yeah. Rare, usually.  But nice.”

“I think it’s rare, because, like—” The alcohol makes it harder for Y/N to gather her thoughts, but also harder to sensor them. “I don’t know, I feel like when I was younger, and hadn’t had sex yet, I took more time with, like, finding the right person? Like I wanted it to be with someone who loved me for the first time, and someone I was comfortable with, and it was. And then after, the love part didn’t matter so much for me.” Y/N glances at Harry, who seems to be hanging on her every word. “Which, like, was fine.  What mattered to me the most was that whoever I had sex with respected me. And they did, so that was…good. But it’s different.” Y/N rubs her arms. “I don’t know if that makes sense…”

“It does.” Harry assures her, placing a light hand on her knee.  He begins to rub small circles. “Keep going.”

“I just think that, like, that in-between, breathless, exploring each other kind of thing…the comfort…that’s rare because it only really happens with someone you love.” Y/N murmurs. “At least, that’s how it is for me.  And I haven’t really been in love much in my life.”

“I’ve been in love probably too much.” Harry admits, his hand still on Y/N’s knee. “Too much to be good for me.”

Y/N shakes her head adamantly. “No, H.  That’s good. That’s…brave.  You’re not afraid of how you feel.  Most people are.”

“Maybe.” Harry finishes his drink again with one long gulp.  

Y/N watches as he does, seeing a little drip of liquid slip from the corner of his mouth.  She can’t stop herself from leaning forward and wiping it away with her thumb, feeling the stubble of Harry’s chin scratch against her.

Harry watches her with hooded eyes as she leans back to her previous position.  His hand slips a bit higher, from her knee to her lower thigh, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Who have you been in love with?” He asks.  His words are slurred a bit, and his accent seems thicker.

“My first boyfriend, Parker. You remember him.” Y/N sighs, closing her eyes as she herself remembers. “And…Christian, from university.  We were together for two years.  That’s it, I think.”

Despite the alcohol, Harry’s face still shows some surprise. “Really?  No one else?  No one since Christian?”

Y/N shrugs. “I’ve dated, yeah, and had relationships, but…I don’t know.  I didn’t love any of them.  I was…infatuated.  But I never…it was intense, but like—intense like a spark.  Nothing prolonged.”

Harry hums in response. “Thought you were going to say Niall for a moment.  He was pretty torn up when you went back to school after that summer.”

Y/N’s face mimics Harry’s surprise from a moment ago. “Was he?”

“Yeah.  Moped around a bit, spent time by himself, on his phone every two minutes…” Harry’s expression shows the difficulty it’s taking him to think back eight years while drunk. “I knew it was because you left.  Thought you two had an…agreement, or something.”

“An agreement?” A giggle escapes Y/N. “This isn’t a Jane Austen book, Harry.  We didn’t have an agreement.” Once she gets her laughter out, she sighs. “He was that upset?”

“Yeah.” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “So I thought…he must be in love with you.  And you were…”

“No, I wasn’t.” Y/N says softly. “He was so upset that you thought he was in love with me?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N bites her lip. “Was he more upset than you?”

Harry takes a moment to reply, looking at her with a serious expression.  His lips are so red, and his eyes are so green, and both of them are so drunk that neither of them can sense the meaning behind what they’re saying.

“No.” Harry finally responds. “He wasn’t.”

…

“Good morning.”

“Shhh.” Y/N covers her eyes with her arm. “Don’t yell in my ear.”

“I whispered.” Harry counters, but his voice is a bit quieter this time. “Do you have a headache?”

“I didn’t know something flavoured with watermelon could make me feel so shitty.” Y/N groans a bit, shifting on the bed without opening her eyes. “What did you do to me?”

When Harry laughs, it’s not audible, but Y/N can feel it through his chest pressed against her side.

“How are you completely fine right now?” She asks, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m used to it.  I’ve always been way better with hangovers than you.” Harry presses a small kiss to her shoulder before getting up. “How does breakfast in bed sound?”

“Normally amazing, but I can’t eat right now.” Y/N mutters. “How about coffee in bed?”

“Sure.” Harry smiles a bit. “You look cute like this.”

“Shut up.”

Harry returns ten minutes later with a tray of coffee, toast, and eggs, of which he manages to coax Y/N to take a few bites.  She doesn’t really want it, but she knows it’s easier to do as he says instead of arguing.

“How about we have a movie day today?” Harry suggests after breakfast. “In bed, since it seems like you won’t be moving anytime soon.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N glares at him from the top of her coffee cup.

Harry raises his hands in defense. “Hey, I didn’t make you drink.  You chose to.”

“I know, but it’s easier to blame you.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Is that why you’ve been doing it for twenty years?”

“Exactly.”

Harry carefully lifts the empty tray to the ground before holding up the remote. “You can pick the movies.”

Y/N bites her lip. “If we watch Titanic, will you make fun of me when I cry?”

“Of course not.  I’ll even cry with you out of solidarity.”

“Alright.” Y/N settles back into the blankets. “Put it on, then.”

It’s easy for them to be like this, Y/N thinks, as Harry pulls her into his arms when the movie starts. It’s always been so natural for them to be physical and affectionate with each other.  They’ve never acted any other way.

Except this doesn’t feel like any other way.

Yes, Y/N has watched countless movies while cuddling in bed with Harry.  But has he ever whispered in her ear like that before?  Has he ever rubbed her sides so carefully before? Has he ever let his lips rest on the bare skin of her shoulder, almost at the base of her neck?

Y/N can’t recall. However, she’s certain that if he had, it hasn’t felt so electric.

“Look at them.  Look at how Jack watches her.” Harry murmurs his words directly in Y/N’s ear as they watch Jack draw Rose.  Y/N can feel his lips brushing against her, and the heat of his breath and tone of his voice makes her shiver.

“She’s very pretty.” Y/N nods, shifting in Harry’s arms.  She likes how warm he feels.

“I suppose, but that’s not what I meant.” Harry traces shapes on her arm. “I meant look at how he looks at her.  Do you think they have the kind of love you talked about last night?”

Y/N glances over her shoulder at him, surprised he remembers their conversation. “I think so.  Do you?”

“Yeah.” Harry says in a low voice.  He says no more, so Y/N turns back to face the television.

They continue to watch in silence, gripping each other a bit tighter as the Titanic begins to sink. As they watch a mother reading to her two young children in bed, Y/N begins to lose her composure, like always. Tears well in her eyes, and she lets out a quiet hitched breath, a single sniffle.

“It’s alright, love.” Harry’s hands move to her stomach, holding her tighter to comfort her. “Don’t cry.”

Y/N can hear the tears in his voice, just as they’re in her own. “Can’t help it.  This part and the band and the old couple in bed—they always get me.”

“I know.” Harry rubs his thumb along your side.

Y/N reaches behind her without turning around, threading her fingers through Harry’s messy curls.  She plays with them absentmindedly as she watches, and tries to ignore how right it feels to be close to him like this.  She wonders if he notices it, too.

Harry presses a chaste kiss to her shoulder.

…

The day they hit the one month mark of quarantine, Harry sits across from Y/N at breakfast with a determined look on his face.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Y/N glances up at him, her attention barely shifting from her book. “A proposition?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of proposition?” Y/N tilts her head to the side.  What she first thought was just determination on Harry’s face, she realizes, is actually determination and mischief, and she knows it won’t end well.

“I haven’t had a tattoo in a while.” Harry steals a strawberry from Y/N’s plate. “And I have a machine here, so I was thinking you could give me one.”

Y/N stares at Harry incredulously as he pops the strawberry in his mouth. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably.”

“I’m a terrible artist, Harry.  You know that.” Y/N shakes her head. “And even if I wasn’t, I have no idea how to tattoo someone!”

“You can watch a YouTube tutorial, or read a WikiHow.” Harry sighs loudly. “I’m so bored in isolation!”

“What do you even want tattooed?” Y/N eyes the intricate tattoos on his arms suspiciously. “I doubt I could do something like your ship.”

“Something simple.” He shrugs. “Probably lettering.”

“Probably?” Y/N says suspiciously.

“That’s why I want you to do it.  I want it in your handwriting.”

Harry’s tone is easy, but it makes her breathing shallow.

“You do?”

“Yeah.  I was thinking of something to remind me of this time, because of how weird it is.”

Despite her increased heartbeat, Y/N laughs. “What, do you want me to tattoo COVID-19 on you?”

“No.  Be a little more creative than that.” Harry scoffs.

“Why do I have to be creative?”

“Because I want you to decide what I get.”

Y/N’s eyes widen. “You’re not serious.”

“I am!  Why is that so hard to believe?” Harry asks. “I trust you. And you’re good with words.”

“No.  Absolutely not.”

…

“Make sure my drink has two shots in it.” Y/N calls to Harry as she looks over the tattoo supplies on the living room table.

Harry laughs. “I’m not sure I want my tattoo artist to be drunk.”

“The only way I’ll even be your tattoo artist is if I’m drunk.” She counters. “I still think this is an awful idea.”

Harry hands Y/N a tall glass with a light pink liquid in it. “Drink this, and you’ll change your mind.”

Y/N takes the glass and takes a large gulp, not focusing on the taste of the mixers, but the liquid courage behind them.

Harry grins, lifting his own glass. “Cheers.”

“Shut up and sit down.” Y/N mutters.  She ties her hair back before grabbing the disinfectant wipes. “Where do you want this?”

“My upper inner arm. I already shaved it for you.” Harry smirks as he points to the area, which is easily exposed in his loose tank top.

“And you’re sure I can write it with pen?” Y/N asks nervously as she disinfects the area.

“Mhmm.” Harry leans back comfortably in his chair. “What did you decide on?”

“It’s a secret.” Y/N uncaps the pen, getting closer to him.

“So I can’t know until after it’s on me permanently?”

“Is that a problem?” Y/N asks innocently. “I thought you trusted me?”

Harry chuckles. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Also that I’m good with words.” Y/N makes sure Harry’s head is turned away before she carefully writes the phrase she chose.  Then she snaps on gloves and starts the machine like she watched in videos early that day.

“You’re fine, love.” Harry assures her, seeing the nervous look on her face. “It’s a small tattoo. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Quiet.” Y/N mutters. “I need to focus.”

True to Harry’s word, the small tattoo only takes a few minutes to finish.  When it’s done, Y/N gives it one final wipe before setting the machine down and taking off her gloves.

“Alright.” She picks up her glass and drains it completely. “You can look.”

Harry peers at his arm, curiosity clear on his face.  There, in Y/N’s loopy handwriting is the phrase “touch me.”

“It looks so fucking good, Y/N.” Harry grins at her. “You did amazing!”

“I didn’t fuck it up?” She asks, chewing on her lip anxiously. “Is it alright?”

“You did a lovely job.” Harry smiles. “Wrap it for me?”

Y/N does as he asks, carefully wrapping the fresh tattoo in plastic wrap and taping it to his arm. “I think I’ll accept my tip in the form of another drink.”

Harry snickers. “Coming right up.”

Two drinks later, they’re both back in the honest and loose headspace that they’ve grown familiar with. It’s not enough that they’re unaware of their actions, but both Y/N and Harry know that their lips are looser because of the liquor in their systems.

They’ve migrated to the bedroom to get comfier, but took a few items from the bar with them.  It’s with these items that Harry tops up Y/N’s glass again as he speaks.

“So tell me…” He sets the cocktail shaker on his bedside table. “Why ‘touch me’?”

“You said you wanted something to remind you of isolation.” Y/N takes a long sip of her drink. “And that’s what we both miss the most, right?  Being touched?”

Harry nods slowly, his rings clinking against his glass. “Yeah.  I’m probably going to go straight to the bars after this is all done.  Find someone there.”

He laughs lightly, showing that what he says it half a joke, but Y/N sighs wistfully and shakes her head in disagreement. “I won’t.”

“You won’t?” Harry is surprised, his laughter fading. “Why not?”

Her shrug almost causes her to spill her drink on the bed. “I don’t know.” Y/N sighs again. “I don’t really—I’m not a hookup fan.  Not right now, at least.  It’s not what I…want.”

“What do you want, then?” Harry finishes his drink, but sets the glass down instead of refilling it. “If not sex?”

“I want sex.” Y/N says defensively. “But I want—I don’t want it to be someone random.  I want sex, but I want to be…intimate.  Like, I want to know that person cares about me, and I care about them.”

Harry licks the last of his drink from his lips. “Like that breathless feeling?”

“No.  It would be nice, but no.  That takes time.” Y/N brushes her hair behind her ear. “Just…someone who cares.  I don’t want a quick fuck, I just—”

“You want to be touched. Intimately touched.” Harry takes the empty glass from Y/N’s hand and sets it down on the table next to the bed.

Y/N nods gently, her limbs feeling loose. “Yeah.  Intimately touched.”

“You know, I could…” Harry trails off, pursing his lips. “We could…do that.”

The alcohol makes Y/N slow to recognize the meaning of his words. “What?”

“I’ve noticed you…the way you look at me, it’s…different than it was.” Harry says carefully, his eyes gauging her reaction. “For the last few weeks.  And I—I know that I’m…attracted to you, too.”

“We…” Y/N struggles to think of what to say as she finally registers what’s happening. “We’re friends.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see you as attractive.” Harry looks down at his hands. “Don’t you…?  I mean…”

“I—yeah.  I think you’re—” Y/N laughs a bit nervously. “You’re attractive, H, you know that.  We’ve just never…discussed it.”

“I’m not saying we have to fuck, or—we don’t have to do anything.” Harry straightens his shoulders and looks you in the eye. “Just—when we touch, it’s mild.  If you want to be touched intimately, we could…”

“Like, a hand job?” Y/N says slowly, her words blunt with confusion.

Harry goes a bit red, but he shakes his head quickly. “No, Christ, that’s not what I meant, I—just—can I show you?”

“Um,” Y/N swallows hard. “Sure.”

“Okay.” Harry nods slightly, taking carefully measured breaths. “If this feels weird, or anything seems wrong, just tell me to stop, alright?”

Y/N replies faintly. “Alright.”

Nodding again, Harry moves closer on the bed, sitting on his knees so he can get closer to Y/N, who sits cross-legged.  His hands rest lightly on her bare thighs, and his rings are a cool contrast to his warm skin.

Harry begins to rub his hands up and down her thighs slowly.  His movements are measured, and he watches Y/N’s reaction carefully for a sign of her disliking his actions.  However, what he finds is a nervous but interested girl staring back at him.

“Like this.  Like, what you like.” Harry says lowly.  His hands move more to her inner thighs, but they don’t creep higher. “And…”

“And…?” Y/N asks, her heart rate increasing even more.

Harry moves one hand to the hem of Y/N’s tank top, pushing it up a bit so his hand can rest on her waist. He rubs over her warm skin, marvelling in how smooth and soft it is to his touch.  His fingers graze the lace of her bra, but he goes no higher.

“How—how’s that?” Harry asks quietly.

“It’s, um, it’s good.” Y/N replies as she struggles to keep her voice normal. “Yeah.  Good.  But, um, can you…” Harry’s movements pause at her words, and Y/N feels her cheeks get even warmer. “Maybe touch my, uh, my neck.  If you’d like.”

Harry nods, and the hand on her thigh moves to her neck.  He traces his fingers across her shoulder and over her collarbone, delighting in feeling the curves of her body.  Y/N’s breath hitches when his fingers travel up her neck, and Harry swears he can feel her pulse increase under his fingers.

Y/N’s not sure if it’s the fact that she’s touch starved from self isolating that makes Harry’s touches feel so good, or if it’s the fact that it’s Harry touching her, but she doesn’t dwell on it.  Instead, she closes her eyes and tilts her head back, allowing him better access.

She feels Harry’s breath before she feels his lips, but she’s still surprised when she feels him begin to sponge light kisses across her neck.

“H…”

“Is this alright?” He asks the question right below her ear, and yet she can barely hear him because he’s so quiet.

“Yes.” Y/N breathes. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Harry returns to pressing light kisses to her skin, his hands still rubbing over her sides and hips.

For the first time since seeing Harry naked in her bathroom, Y/N can’t deny or explain away her attraction to him.  She can’t convince herself that she doesn’t want him to touch her, because she does, and she can’t tell herself that she doesn’t need him, because she does. Every fibre of her being is telling her that she needs Harry, and she needs him now.  Her heart is pounding, her skin is on fire, and her core feels like she’d going to explode if he doesn’t do something.  And yet, Y/N can’t tell him to touch her more.  She’s frozen, mind blank, and she can only register what Harry is doing at the moment as what she wants.

Harry continues to kiss her neck, never lingering too long in one spot, never sucking too hard. Every kiss is gentle and chaste, except the few rare ones that include the tip of his tongue running over her skin.

After what feels like an eternity, Harry pulls away from her neck, face flushed.  Despite his hands still on her body, Y/N makes an involuntary sound in the back of her throat.

“Is that better?” He asks lowly, rubbing his thumb against your hip.

“I—kind of.” Y/N says softly.  If anything, she thinks, it’s worse.  She needs to satisfy the burn inside her, but she doesn’t know how.

“Good.” Harry replies, but he doesn’t take his hands off her.

Y/N’s own hands have been sitting at her sides as his moved over her body, but she raises one now, as hesitant as Harry was.  She extends it towards his arm, but pauses with her fingers right over his skin.

“Is it okay if I…?”

The corner of Harry’s lips lifts up, just barely. “Yeah, love.  Go ahead.”

Harry’s skin is warm beneath her touch.  Y/N traces the outline of his mermaid tattoo carefully before moving onto others.  She loves how his arm curves under her touch, how he stays still and lets her explore.  She appreciates it, thinking that if Harry made any sudden movements, she’d force herself to pull away.

Soon, her fingers move from tracing his tattoos to tracing the lines of his muscles.  She moves down his forearm to his hand, running her fingers over the veins that show through his tan skin, over his knuckles, down the tips of his calloused fingers and back.  

Harry sucks in a breath, and Y/N’s trance flickers for a moment as her eyes move to his face to see what’s wrong.

“Sorry, just—surprised me.” Harry says, voice low yet sheepish.  He nods down to his thigh, where Y/N realizes her own hand is resting.

“Oh—” She moves to pull her hand away, but Harry places his own on top.

“It’s fine.” He says quickly. “Keep going.”

Y/N bites her lip as she turns her attention back to his arm.  Her fingers move slowly and carefully back up his forearm to his upper arm. She traces over his tattoos while she rubs her thumb gently against the muscle, and stops her fingers at the edge of his t-shirt sleeve.  With a quick glance at Harry, she pushes the sleeve up, tucking it up on his shoulder so she can run her fingers over his ship tattoo, which is one of her favourites.

“Feels nice.” Harry murmurs, his eyes following her movements.

Y/N glances back at his face, taking in his appearance.  His lips are red from the time he spent kissing her neck, and his cheeks are still flushed.  His eyes are darker than usual, and she’s not certain if it’s the candlelight or something else causing it.  There’s a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, with a few loose curls hanging down. Out of reflex, Y/N reaches up and pushes his hair back out of his eyes.

Before she can return her hand to his arm, Harry captures it in his own.  Y/N watches as he brings it to his lips, inhaling as her wrist passes underneath his nose.  Although she’s not sure why, there’s something about seeing how much smaller her hand is in Harry’s that delights her.

Harry presses a soft kiss to her wrist, following it up with another on her palm.  Y/N’s eyelids flutter at the tender sensation.

��It’s my turn to touch you.” She says softly, her voice strained.

Harry hums in reply. “I know.” He kisses your wrist once more before looking at you. “I’ll help.”

Lifting his hand from his thigh (your hand, which was underneath, stays where it is), he pulls up his shirt just enough that he can sneak your hand underneath.  He rests it on his lower chest, and even though his shirt is still partially covering him, Y/N knows she’s touching his butterfly tattoo.

“I like to be touched here.” Harry says in the same low voice.

“Okay.” Y/N bites her lip, her head swimming with alcohol and the smell of the candles and Harry’s cologne and Harry. “It…would be easier without your shirt.”

Without breaking eye contact, save for the moment fabric covers him, Harry pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. “Better?”

Y/N’s eyes drift down to his tanned stomach.  His body is familiar and a stranger to her all at once.  She knows his tattoos, scars, every mark on his skin from a distance, but seeing it like this—touching it like this—makes her feel like she’s never truly seen him before.

“Better.” She manages to say, her hand brushing across his ribs.

Y/N spends a while exploring the planes of his stomach, the contours of his body.  When she gets to his v-lines, and runs her fingers over the ferns tattooed there, Harry shivers a bit, his hand gripping her knee tighter.

Y/N massages his thigh gently. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Harry clears his throat. “I’m good.”

“Okay.” Y/N nods, but moves her hand further up again, over his chest and over his collar bones.  She takes a moment to trace the lines of his neck, feel the beat if his pulse underneath her fingers, and then tangles her fingers in his hair.  She uses the leverage to tilt his head back a bit, and presses her lips to the base of his neck.

Harry’s cologne smells better up close, and Y/N adores the heat of his skin on her sensitive lips. She presses small kisses over the curve of his neck, pausing over his jugular.  Her tongue darts out and she carefully licks along it before ending the motion with a kiss.

“Christ…” Harry exhales slowly, the tips of his fingers digging into her knee slightly.

Y/N knows they’re crossing the threshold of just touching each other for the sake of touching.  She can feel herself dripping in her panties, and when her eyes flicker down, she can see the outline of Harry’s half hard cock in his shorts.  Together, they’ve reached the border of friends helping each other out, and she’s certain that she wants to cross it with him.  However, she’s not sure if they should.

Pulling back enough to look Harry in the eyes, Y/N clears her throat. “H, we—what are we doing?”

Harry waits a moment to answer. “I…I don’t know.  I have no fucking clue.”

“This isn’t friendly anymore.” Y/N’s voice drops to a whisper. “It’s not just—it’s intimate, yeah, but it’s more…” Her eyes move to the outline of his hardening cock once more before looking back up at his face. “It’s more.”

“Yeah.  It’s more.” Harry moves his hand further up her thigh again, rubbing slow circles. “But I don’t want to stop.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “You don’t?”

“It’s been so long since…” Harry trails off, his gaze drifting down to your lips before returning to your eyes. “And it’s you.  I’ve always wondered if—we—”

“I’ve wondered, too.” Y/N admits, her voice filled with nerves.  Are they really discussing this? “Especially since that day, in the bathroom—”

“I wondered if you looked then.” Harry’s voice drops lower (which Y/N didn’t think was possible). “I thought about it later that day.  I—fuck, I wanted you to look.”

A small noise escapes the back of Y/N’s throat. “This—we’ve been drinking, and—it’s the alcohol, H. Neither of us is thinking straight.”

“This isn’t the alcohol talking.  I’ve thought about—when we’re in the pool, when we cuddle, when we flirt, I—I can’t help it.” Harry closes his eyes for a brief moment, like he’s collecting himself. “I need you.  And I think…I think you need me too.”

“I do.  I need you.” Y/N touches his stubbled jaw with careful fingers. “But we’re friends.  This is going to change that.”

“We don’t know that.” Harry leans into her touch. “You said before that you wanted someone you’re comfortable with, something intimate, something breathless.  You and I are comfortable, and intimate, and—I don’t know.  All I know for sure is that I want you.”

Y/N isn’t sure if he means he wants her in a purely physical way or something more, and while she knows she should clarify that, all she can focus on is his voice and the way it’s going straight to her core.

“I want you, too.” She says simply.

Harry brings his hand to Y/N’s hip. “Can I kiss you?”

Y/N nods.  She’s not sure she’s capable of giving a verbal response.

Harry takes it upon himself to lean closer, his fingertips digging into Y/N’s skin in a way she adores. He pauses, hovering just above her lips for a moment, as if to give her time to pull away.  Instead, Y/N just waits in anticipation, delighting in the feeling of his breath running over her skin.

When he kisses her, Y/N tastes alcohol, mint, and what she swears is her own heart in the back of her throat.

Any previous kisses she’s shared with Harry have been half kisses, given in teenage games of truth or dare and in a friend’s parent’s basement.  Those kisses were safe, guarded, and an obligation.  This kiss is the exact opposite.

Although it starts chaste, it quickly grows more passionate.  Y/N can’t stop herself from tugging on Harry’s hair more than she imagines Harry can stop himself from rucking up the hem of her tank top.  His fingers dip under the band of her lace bralette as she nips at his lip, tugging slightly, delighted when a strangled sound echoes from the back of his throat.

Within minutes, Y/N’s allowed Harry to pull her to straddle his lap, his hands grabbing at her hips with a neediness she’s never seen him exhibit before.  Of course, she feels the same way, and she lets her hand run down his chest over and over, using her nails a little more each time.  Although there’s no one around to see, no party to return to, nowhere to go, Y/N wants to leave a mark.  She wants anyone who sees his chest to know that he belongs to her.

Harry breaks away from her, lips red, eyes frenzied, and breathing heavy. “Can I—?” His hands tug on the hem of her top, tugging in question.

Y/N lifts her arms in response, letting him pull it off and toss it to the side.  Harry moves back in to kiss her again, but she keeps her arms up, giving him a long look.

“You’re not done.” She says simply.

He understands right away, and his fingers find the band of her bralette again.  This time, however, he removes it slower, almost as if the removal is ritual itself, and his hands are less frantic when they return to your skin.

Harry looks at Y/Nu with wide eyes, and she understands the meaning in them: this is so much more than just touching, and so much more than two friends using each other for mutual pleasure.  With every touch, they further cross a line, and neither of them can stop.  

With this realization, Harry’s movements become more cautious.  His hands come to rest on her sides, his thumbs just brushing the side of her breast.

“You’re fine.” Y/N assures him in a soothing voice. “Keep going.”

“Are you fine?” He counters, his voice an equal mix of concern and need.

“H.” Y/N takes his hands in her own and places them over her breasts. “Like that.  Touch me like that.”

Harry sucks in a short breath as she manipulates his hands, showing him how to rub her and touch her. After a few moments, she lets her hands move to his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

Y/N begins to grind against him, desperate for a bit of friction.  Their kisses are soon accented with their moans as they each pull the other closer in lust and need.

Still, underneath the physical desires, there’s a current running between them.  Y/N knows it’s been there for the last few weeks, humming quietly in the back of her mind, but being here, now, with Harry touching her, it’s come alive like an electric fence.  She can’t turn it off, and she doesn’t want to.  She doesn’t want to in the slightest.

Harry begins to kiss down her neck like before, but this time his kisses are anything but chaste. When he reaches her breast, he kisses around them before taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

“Oh fuck—” Y/N arches her back, fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. “Harry…”

He hums against her, and his spare hand rubs her back like he does when they get ready to sleep.  Usually, the motion is calming, but right now, Y/N feels anything but calm.

Harry continues until he’s satisfied with his work, and then he kisses his way to her other breast, wrapping his lips against her other nipple.  He spends just as much time on that one, letting his teeth graze it ever so slightly before soothing the action with his tongue.

When he pulls back, there’s a little line of spit connecting Harry’s mouth to her nipple, and Y/N whimpers at the sight.

“H…” She runs her finger through the line before gripping his chin with her thumb and forefinger.  The need inside her builds, as does her fondness for the man in front of her. “God…”

Harry tweaks her hard nipple with his finger, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, but enough to make a gasp fall from her mouth.  He offers no response in the form of words, but the hungry look in his eyes has only increased.

“Let me…” Y/N climbs off of his lap, gently pushing him to lay back on the bed. “Yeah?”

Harry runs a hand through his messy curls, nodding quickly. “You want that?”

“Yeah.” Y/N nods too, pressing a wet kiss to his swollen lips. “So bad.  Yeah.”

Her hands move to the waistband of his shorts, and Harry lifts his hips off the bed.  Y/N tugs down his boxers in the same movement, and tosses both articles of clothing to the side before looking back at him.

Harry’s cock is just as beautiful as she remembers it being the morning she accidentally walked in on him. Even more so, she thinks, because now he’s hard, and the head is the most appetizing shade of pink, with drops of precum pearling at the top.  When Y/N wraps her hand around his girth, she adores the heat that she feels.  

“So pretty…” She says the words almost to herself, and strokes him lightly to get used to the feeling of him in her hand. “I just want to…”

Y/N leans down and flicks her tongue over his tip, collecting the precum gathered there.  In return, a strangled moan leaves Harry’s throat as his arm moves to cover his eyes for a moment.

Y/N presses a kiss to the head of his cock before she continues licking, reveling in the sounds Harry makes.  She had no doubt, with a voice as angelic as his, that his moans and whines and whimpers would be just as beautiful.

When she wraps her lips around the head and sucks, she feels Harry’s hand move to her hair.  She looks up at him without lifting off of his cock, staring him in the eye as she takes more and more of him into her mouth.

“Fuck—” Another moan leaves Harry’s lips, more strained than the last. “That’s it…” He tugs on her hair, but doesn’t push her down.  Even when lost in pleasure, he’s careful with her.

Y/N loves him for it.

Pacing herself, she takes more and more of him into her mouth until her nose is pressed to the base of his stomach, brushing against his (neatly trimmed) pubic hair.  She stays down for just a moment before pulling up completely to breathe, but keeps her hand on him, stroking him slowly.

“You look so good.” Harry mutters, running his hands over her hair in a soothing motion. “I imagined it, but didn’t think…so much better…”

Y/N moves to push her head back down, but Harry stops her, bringing her up for a kiss instead.

“I want to taste you, now.” He tells her, laying her down on the pillows. “Is that alright?”

Y/N nods desperately, feeling even more heat rush to her core and pool there. “Mhmm.”

Harry kisses his way down her body again, slipping his fingers into the waistband of her shorts. He leaves her panties on as he pulls the shorts down, and lets out a low groan at the sight of her pink Calvin Klein panties, and more specifically, the dark pink spot that’s apparent on them.

“You’re soaked…” He presses a kiss to her sensitive inner thigh before brushing a finger over the wet spot.

Y/N jumps a bit, making a sound in the back of her throat. “Harry!”

“Sorry.” He kisses her thigh again. “I’m sorry.  Just relax, yeah?  It’s just me. I got you.”

Harry continues to kiss along her inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the thin cloth covering her center.  When he presses his first kiss to the fabric, Y/N grasps the sheets in her hands.

“God…” She whispers, fists clenched.

Harry reaches up and takes one of her hands, placing it in his hair wordlessly before kissing over her again, his tongue peaking out just a bit.

The torture continues for what feels like forever, with Harry teasing her over the soaked fabric of her panties.  Finally, Y/N sighs in relief as she feels his hands grip the fabric, and she lifts her hips eagerly as he tugs the article of clothing down.

The first thing she feels is his hot breath hitting her core, which is enough to make her legs reflexively close with pleasure.  Harry’s hand grips her leg, pushing them back open as he takes in the sight of her dripping cunt before him.

“Fuck…” He inhales deeply, committing her scent to memory. “Your pussy is so gorgeous.”

Y/N whimpers at his words and tugs on his curls. “Please, H…I need you.”

“Need me?” Harry asks in a husky voice, his finger touching her outer lips just barely.

“Yes!” Y/N whines, not caring how she sounds. “Never needed anything more…”

Harry runs his finger over her slit, collecting the wetness dripping from her.  YN moans loudly at the contact, not fully relieved but grateful for the light touch.

“So fucking wet.” Harry’s voice sounds not completely his own. “Fuck, Y/N, how are you so wet?”

Y/N feels heat rush to her cheeks, and she mumbles her reply in what’s almost an embarrassed voice. “You know exactly how.”

“Don’t even know what to do first.” Harry ignores her reply, lost in his own world as he continues stroking her slit. “Just want…”

He presses into her without warning, and Y/N arches her back off the bed as Harry’s finger slips into her cunt.  His cold rings touch the top of her entrance as Harry pauses inside her, his eyes heavy with lust.

“And so tight.” He moans, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark. “Oh my God…”

He curves his finger inside her, wanting to feel every inch of her that he can.  Y/N continues to whimper above him.

“More.” She begs him, pushing back against his finger. “I can take more, Harry, please.”

Harry easily slips enough finger in, repeating his motion as she pushes back on him.  However, the pressure building inside Y/N disappears abruptly as his fingers do, and she’s just about to get angry at him when she feels his tongue replace his fingers.

“Fuck!” She exclaims loudly, her eyes closing as she throws her head back. “Harry—!”

Harry moves his tongue in and out of her, loving the taste of her juices in his mouth.  He moves further up to her clit, licking and sucking over the sensitive bundle of nerves as Y/N writhes above him.

“Taste so good.” He growls from between her thighs. “Fuck, Y/N…you’re going to cum for me, yeah?” He asks as he reaches up and grips her hands in his, interlocking their fingers. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Another strangled moan leaves Y/N’s mouth as he speaks. “I-I’m so close, Harry. Keep going, please.”

“Tell me.” He demands, licking over her clit again. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Y/N grinds against his tongue as she grips his hands tighter. “I’m going—fuck—I’m going to cum for you, H.  I’m going—”

Harry sucks hard on her clit, and Y/N throws her head back as an orgasm hits her harder than ever before.  Her thighs clench shut, trapping Harry’s head between them, but he just continues to lap at the juices flowing from her cunt while making the most obscene sounds Y/N has ever heard.

Harry doesn’t pull back until Y/N unclenches her thighs, and before he does, he presses one last kiss to her clit, making her flinch.  

Y/N is so exhausted she can barely open her eyes.  Once she does, however, and sees Harry, she feels all the exhaustion fade.

Harry’s lips are, somehow, even more red than before, and his whole chin is slick with her wetness.  He keeps licking his lips, like he can’t get enough of the taste, and Y/N feels like her whole body is on fire.

“Harry…” She whispers, squeezing his hand again.  She doesn’t know what else to say.

Harry lifts himself over her body, which is still shaking from her orgasm, and kisses her gently.  She can taste herself on his mouth, and she adores it.

“You taste so fucking good.” He murmurs, pressing his sweaty forehead against hers. “Like candy.”

Y/N swallows hard. “I haven’t—no one’s done that in a long time.”

“I’ll be glad to do it again.” Harry replies, brushing her hair back. “But right now…all I want to do is make love to you.” He looks at her with sincere eyes. “Will you let me?”

The tenderness of him asking almost brings tears to her eyes, and Y/N nods, her hands coming up to cup his rosy cheeks. “Yeah, H.  I’m…” She bites her lip as she realizes the truth of her words. “I’m yours.  Always.”

Harry inhales sharply before kissing her softly, his hands stroking her hair in a comforting fashion again. “How do you want to…?”

“I want you on top.” Y/N replies, touching his swallow tattoos. “I-I want to feel you.  Feel your weight.  Feel you close.”

With a nod, Harry positions himself over her, spreading her legs wide enough that his body can fit between.  He holds himself up with one hand and uses the other to guide his cock to Y/N’s folds, just brushing the head over them.  He’s teasing himself just as much as her.

“Harry…” Y/N leans her head back at the sensation. “Please, H…”

“I don’t—wait—” Harry pauses his movements, and Y/N can see on his face the strength and discipline it takes for him to do so. “I—a condom—”

“I’m clean, and I have an IUD.” Y/N assures him, running her hand along his shoulders. “Are you?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I am, but—are you sure?”

As Y/N looks into his eyes, the love and concern and want written all over them, she knows she’s never been more sure of anything in her life. “I want to feel you, without anything in between.  I—” She takes a deep breath and presses a kiss to his jaw. “Yeah.  I’m sure.”

Harry presses a kiss to her forehead, and the tender action makes Y/N close her eyes as she revels in the feeling.  A moment later, Harry moves down again and puts his forehead against hers as he pushes into her.

The moment he enters her, Y/N feels a fullness she’s never experienced before.  Not only is Harry stretching her cunt in a way that feels euphoric, but she feels complete.  He’s as close to her as he’s ever been, his breath is mingling with hers, his body weight is held over her carefully, and Y/N thinks she could die in the pleasure of this moment happily.

“Y/N…baby…” The pet name seems to fall easily from Harry’s lips as he bottoms out, holding himself still to adjust to the feeling. “Oh my God…”

Y/N digs her fingernails into Harry’s shoulders, pressing kisses to his lips between gasps for breath. “Move, H, please.”

Harry begins to thrust his hips, setting a slow but deep pace before gradually speeding up.  While part of Y/N wishes he would thrust as fast as he can, a deeper part of her is grateful that Harry is taking his time with her.  This feeling, now that she has it, is better than anything she’d ever felt before, and Y/N doesn’t want it to end anytime soon.

Harry kisses Y/N again as he moves inside her.  Although they’re as close as they’ve ever been, each of them keeps pulling the other closer.  As Harry thrusts deeper, Y/N pulls more of his weight down on her.  As Y/N scratches her nails down his back, Harry kisses her jaw. Neither of them can process exactly what they’re doing, but neither of them can stop.  Each touch is tender, each kiss is passionate, and each moment brings them closer together in so many more ways than just physical.

They don’t speak except for the occasional whisper from Y/N for Harry to move faster, or the occasional moan of Y/N’s name falling from Harry’s lips. The only constant sounds in the room are of the slickness between Y/N’s thighs as Harry moves between them, the sound of his skin meeting hers, both of them panting and moaning, and a few whispers of “please” that are barely audible.  Despite the lack of speech, however, the two are in constant communication.  Kissing, biting, scratching, and squeezing have become the vocabulary of their new language.  When Harry looks into Y/N’s wet eyes, he knows that she feels something running through the very depths of her being.  When Y/N feels Harry tuck his head between her neck and her shoulder as he whimpers, she knows that he trusts her to comfort him and hold him there.

Soon, Y/N feels the waves of pleasure begin to build, and she knows that when they finally break, they’ll pull her under. “H, I—fuck—I—” She can’t manage to form the sentence she needs to.

Harry, however, can tell exactly what she’s going to say. “Please.” He pants, adoring how she buries her head into his shoulder. “Please, love, cum for me…” He kisses over the shell of her ear as he thrusts deeper. “Need you.”

Y/N whimpers, biting down on Harry’s shoulder as her orgasm rolls over her. Harry feels her walls tighten around his cock, but he doesn’t slow down, and he works her through her climax until she whines in his ear.

“So good, H…” Y/N can barely find the strength to whisper the phrase.

Hearing her sound so fucked out, feeling her cunt squeezing him, and seeing the euphoria on her face is enough to bring Harry to the edge.  He slows his thrusts, about to pull out, but Y/N presses on his back to keep him close.

Harry groans as a shiver rolls through his body. “I’m about to cum, Y/N—”

“Stay inside me.” She pleads, pressing the pads of her fingers between his shoulder blades. “I-I’m yours, Harry, I told you.  Yours.”

Y/N looks up at him with such trusting and vulnerable eyes that Harry can’t make himself argue with her.  He nods instead, his thrusts increasing in speed again until he feels himself reach the edge of pleasure.  

As he freefalls into Y/N, his hips stutter, and he presses deep inside her while her name falls from his lips over and over again.  He can’t think of anything else to say.  He can’t think of anything else worth saying.

When Harry finally manages to pull himself together enough to pull out, Y/N instantly feels the emptiness inside her.  She wishes he would stay, but knows that it’s not practical, and instead just relishes in the feeling of his cum dripping from her entrance.  It’s like he’s claimed her as his, left a physical mark of himself, and Y/N doesn’t have the strength to stop herself from loving it.

They lay in silence for a few moments, trying to catch their breath and regain a sense of where they are.  Both Harry and Y/N are sweaty, exhausted, and covered in each other in more ways than one.  The wrap on Harry’s tattoo has slipped from his arm.  Somewhere in their pleasure, Y/N has lost an earring.  And yet, the only thing each of them cares about is looking at the other.

Out of instinct, Harry pulls Y/N’s shivering body into his, wrapping his arms around her tightly.  He can’t imagine she’s cold, and Y/N can’t bring herself to tell him she’s shivering because of the feeling of being so close to him, but neither of them denies the other of the affectionate gesture.

Y/N loses track of how long they lay there until Harry breaks the silence.

“I—” His voice cracks, and he clears it quickly before trying again. “I’ll get you a cloth to—to clean you up.”

Y/N nods, and Harry gently untangles himself from her before going to the bathroom.  Y/N can hear the running of water, and turns her head to see what he’s doing, but when she spots his naked silhouette, she closes her eyes.  Despite what they just did, there’s a shyness in her still when she sees him completely stripped.

Her eyes stay closed, and she only detects his return from feeling his weight return to the bed.  He places a gentle hand on her trembling knee, pulling her open ever so slightly.

“’M just cleaning you up.” Harry says in a quiet tone. “Is that okay?”

Y/N nods again.  She’s not certain she has enough strength to say anything.

Harry wipes between her legs with a gentle touch, watching how she flinches at the slightest of pressure. “I’m sorry.” He says sincerely, kissing her knee tenderly before continuing. “You’re sensitive, I know.  Almost done.”

Once he finishes wiping away the cum dripping out of her (his cum dripping out of her), Harry tosses the cloth onto his pile of clothes on the ground, deciding it can be dealt with later.  His most pressing concern at the moment is Y/N.

He lays back down on his side so he can face her, and pushes a lock of hair away from her closed eyes.

“Y/N.” Harry murmurs, hand resting on her waist carefully. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is rough when she answers, and Harry can hear the echo of her moans in her words. “I-I’m fine, H.  Just…tired.”

“Do you…” Harry bites his lip. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Y/N gives a slight shake of her head. “Maybe—maybe tomorrow, yeah?” She does her best to open one eye, but quickly shuts it again when she sees how Harry is looking at her. “Can’t right now.”

“Okay.” Harry lays his arm over her side as he moves closer. “Tomorrow.”

Y/N presses her head into his shoulder and commits the scent of his skin to memory.

…

The first thing Y/N registers when she wakes up is the feeling of someone touching her hair.

She doesn’t need to open her eyes to know it’s Harry.  Of course it’s Harry.  It’s always been Harry.  In every way.

Y/N sighs and readjusts her position in bed, moving a bit closer to Harry.  She shivers once from the cold, still naked from last night’s activities, and that’s the only hint Harry needs before he pulls the sheet up around her more.

“Are you awake?” He asks softly, careful in case she’s still lost deep in sleep.

Y/N moves her head in a passable nodding motion, and her voice is thick with sleep when she answers. “Mhmm.  Barely.”

A low chuckle escapes from Harry’s mouth, and the next thing Y/N feels are his warm lips against her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“A little hungover.  A little sore.” Y/N finally opens her eyes as she speaks, and almost wishes she hadn’t.

Harry’s hair is a mess from both sex and sleep, messy and wild and haphazardly pushed out of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed, and his neck and chest are covered in marks from both Y/N’s lips and fingers.  She knows that if he turned over, his back would be the same, and it embarrasses her and delights her at the same time.  He looks completely fucked and content, and more relaxed than she’s seen him in ages.

Y/N wonders if she looks the same.  If she looks as pretty.

“Sorry.” Harry says, his tone a bit sheepish.

“It’s not your fault.” Y/N replies, shrugging a bit.

“Well…it is, actually.  I made your drinks.  And I…” He trails off, brushing his fingers down her bare hip to her thigh.

“Yeah.” Y/N feels her face get warm. “I guess it is your fault.”

Harry laughs lightly, but it fades away as he looks into her eyes. “We, uh…we should probably talk about what happened.”

Y/N purses her lips. “Yeah. We should.”

“So…first question, I guess.” Harry props his head up on his arm, but keeps running his fingers over Y/N’s hip gently. “Do you regret it?”

Y/N sits up a bit more in bed, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. “No.  I don’t.  Do you?”

“No.” Harry replies instantly. “I don’t regret it.”

“Okay.” Y/N is so aware of Harry’s eyes on her as she thinks of her question. “Did…did you enjoy it?”

A snort falls from Harry’s mouth, and he shakes his head incredulously. “Christ, Y/N, of course I enjoyed it.  It felt—you felt like heaven.”

Y/N flushes at the comment. “I’ve never…I’ve always made my partners wear condoms.  So that was a first for me.”

Harry’s fingers pause over her hip, but only for a moment.  It looks as though he’s deciding whether or not he should comment on that, but changes his mind at the last moment. “Did you enjoy it?” He asks instead, echoing your question.

“I did.”

“You said you were mine.”

Y/N swallows hard. This conversation is less incriminating than making love to him last night, but it seems infinitely more powerful. Probably because they’re both sober, she thinks.

“That—” She clears her throat. “That’s not a question.”

Harry sighs, but there’s an endeared smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You said you were mine. Did you mean that?”

Y/N can’t look him in the eyes, so she looks down instead.  Harry’s hand lies between them, and she intertwines their fingers, playing with his rings as she carefully formulates her answer. “I’ve—I’ve always been yours, H.  Ever since we were kids, I’ve belonged to you.” She runs a finger over his H ring. “Even when you were gone.”

Harry frowns a bit at the tone of her voice. “I’ve been yours too, Y/N.  I belong to you just as much as you belong to me.”

“You’ve always been further out of reach.” Y/N pulls her hand from his, until their fingertips are just barely touching. “Always just…a little out of reach.”

Harry intertwines their fingers again. “I’m not out of reach.  Not right now.  And I’ve never—if you ever called me and said you needed me, I would’ve been on the first flight back home to you.  I would’ve dropped everything for you, Y/N.  I still would, and I always will.”

Tears prick Y/N’s eyes, and although she hurries to close them, one slips out.  Harry catches it on his finger before it can run off her cheek, and when she looks at him again, there’s a concerned look on his face.

“C’mere.” Harry mumbles, pulling Y/N into a tight hug.  He rubs her back like he always does, and the motion is so comforting that she almost forgets the vulnerable position they’re both in. “You’re my girl.  You’re always going to be my girl.” He murmurs in her ear, voice low and soothing. “Always.  Don’t you know that?”

Y/N nods, not trusting her voice at the moment.

“If this is too much for you…” Harry traces his fingers between her shoulder blades.  Y/N thinks he’s tracing words, like they used to as children, but she can’t tell what words he may be tracing. “I understand. We can just—we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I—” Y/N shakes her head, looking up at Harry. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N?” Harry asks, his tone as pleading as it was last night. “All I’ve ever tried to do is give you what you want, and usually I’m pretty good at telling what that is, but right now, I’m lost.  I don’t want things to go back to how they were, but I don’t—I can’t lose you, so just—if you just tell me what you want, I’ll do it.  I’ll make it work.  I promise that I won’t be mad, or hurt, or anything.”

Y/N sits up as best she can, her fingers combing through Harry’s messy curls on reflex, as she always does it when he gets upset. “I can’t pretend that I don’t want you, H.  I do.  I need you.  I told you that last night.”

“But you’re crying.” Harry cups her wet cheek gently, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. “I hate that.”

Y/N leans into his touch. “It just feels…strange.” She says after a moment. “All of this.  I spent so long trying to stop myself from thinking of you like this, and now that I am, I feel like—like it’s wrong.”

Harry tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth. “Does it feel wrong?”

His low voice makes her shiver. “No.  It feels right.  Really right.”

“I feel like…” Harry’s eyes flicker between Y/N’s own eyes and their intertwined hands. “I feel like we’re both dancing around saying it.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “Saying what?”

“Saying…” Harry leans in and presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Saying that we’re in love with each other.”

Y/N feels breathless at the words coming from his mouth. “You’re in love with me?”

“Are you not in love with me?” He replies, moving so he’s leaning over her more. “We’ve said I love you so many times before.”

“That’s a different kind of love.” Y/N mumbles, touching the chain dangling from Harry’s neck.

“But we were both meaning something different when we were saying it.  At least, I was.” Harry inhales deeply, like he’s centering himself. “I’ve known…for a while, but I’ve felt it for longer than I’ve known it. And I thought that you might��”

“I think I do.” Y/N whispers. “But saying it feels so—so permanent.  Like we can’t go back to being friends if it blows up in our faces.”

Harry traces a finger down Y/N’s cheek, her neck, between her breasts, to her side, touching just below her ribs. “Maybe we can’t.  But I don’t think we’ll want to, Y/N.  I think we’re perfect for each other.”

Y/N’s heart pounds in her chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “This last month, it’s been like we’ve been…playing house, or something.  I’ve loved it.  I keep hearing from friends saying that they’re so sick of the person they’re living with, so tired of them, but I’ve never felt that way about you, and I don’t think I ever will.  I’ll never get sick of you.”

Y/N laughs a bit. “That’s romantic.”

“Shut up.” Harry can’t help but smile slightly. “It is romantic.”

“Yeah.  It is.” Y/N says softly, her hand rubbing over Harry’s tattooed arm. “You’re really in love with me?”

Harry nods. “I am.”

“Huh.” Y/N bites her lip. “So I guess we’ve been lying to our moms, haven’t we?”

Harry laughs loudly, collapsing on the bed next to Y/N. “Jesus, can you not mention our mums when we’re naked in bed?”

“I’m just saying!  We’ve been saying for years that you’re not in love with me, and it’s all been a lie.”

“What about when they ask if you’re in love with me?” Harry’s tone is joking, but there’s a hint of nervousness in the back of his voice. “Has that been a lie, too?”

Y/N’s heart pounds as she nods. “Yeah.  We’ll have to get them something really good for Mother’s Day this year to help make up for it.”

A grin spreads over Harry’s face, almost triumphant, as he leans down to kiss her. “Agreed.” He moves to cage himself over Y/N. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“I want to hear you say that you’re in love with me.” Harry’s grin turns into a smirk.

Y/N flushes as she shakes her head. “You say it first.”

“I’ve already admitted it!”

“So have I!”

“Not as well as I have!”

“Oh, so it’s a competition now?” Y/N scoffs. “What a wonderful start to our relationship.”

“I’m just saying, Y/N, admitting it is the first step to—”

“Are you seriously going to say that to get me to say that I love you?”

“Just—”

“You’re so irritating—”

“I’m irritating?  You—”

“You’re the worst!”

“And yet you’re in my bed with no clothes on!”

“Okay.  Nope.  Relationship over.” Y/N pushes Harry off of her and wraps the sheet around herself as she gets out of bed. “You blew it, Styles.”

“Y/N.” Laughter falls from Harry’s lips as he leans over the edge of the bed. “Love.  Come back to bed.”

“I think a minute and thirty-seven seconds may be the record for the world’s shortest relationship.” Y/N searches her bag for some clean clothes.

“Come here!”

“Another world record for Harry Styles.” Y/N calls to him without turning around. “You must be so proud—”

Her words are cut off in a shriek as Harry picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder as he brings her back to his bed.

“Harry!” She yells, hitting his arm. “Put me down!”

Harry tosses her on the bed, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, and cages himself over her sheet-covered body.  He’s still completely bare. “Take it back.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Fine. We’re still together.  One less record for you.”

“Good.  Now…” Harry brushes a finger over her lips. “Say you’re in love with me.”

Y/N’s laughter fades a bit as the nerves set back in. “I…”

“Please, Y/N?” Harry murmurs, leaning down to kiss her neck. “Please say it.”

“I’m—” Y/N sucks in a quick breath, and all of her protest leaves her body as she exhales. “I’m in love with you, Harry.”

She can feel Harry’s lips forming a grin against her neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Y/N tugs on his hair gently, just enough so she can pull his head back to look in his eyes. “Now you say it.”

“Y/N.” Harry says her name like it’s something precious. “I’m in love with you.”

A flush of pleasure crawls up Y/N’s spine at his words, but she does her best to keep her tone light-hearted. “So are you calling our moms, or am I?”

“I’ll do it.” Harry reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “And I’ll be sure to mention how it took us getting drunk and having sex to realize—”

“Harry!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell your mum we used a condom—”

“I’ll kill you, Styles, and I’ll make it look like an accident.” Y/N shoves his shoulder hard.

Harry grins at her. “Now that’s romantic.”

[ratandphilgames]

Our Lives Don’t Collide

{chapter 3: shake on it}

summary: Shit hits the fan when famous actor!Phil is caught smooching a boy in an alleyway. Only problem? He’s not out and what’s worse? The boy he was smooching was a journalist who set it all up to get a quick picture and now Phil is royally screwed. The only answer Phils management can come up with is a fake relationship to try and do damage control and famous actor!Dan is the perfect candidate.

chapter word count: 2562

total word count: 7458 

rating: t 

note: thanks for reading and leaving me all your love! everyone who’s sent an anon or left kudos or reblogged has absolutely made this worth it! ily :)

updates on thursdays!

{read on ao3}

{read from the beginning} 

{next chapter}

—–

Sign on the dotted line …………….

The dotted line was definitely taunting him. All Dan had to do was write his name and then he’d be in a legally bond relationship. It was like a temporary marriage. No pressure or anything.  

Dan was back in Sam’s office, 2 days later. The final contract was sitting in front of him, ready to be signed.

He’d been thinking a lot the past 48 hours about this decision.

At the beginning Dan was fairly sure he was going to sign the paper but then intrusive thoughts crept into his mind. Would he be able to look his mum in the face and tell her that he was in a happy committed relationship when he wasn’t? That was a lot of intense pressure, lying to your mom was bad. Baddddddd.

After thinking about how much lying to his mum would suck, Dan thought about how proud his mum would be that he’d gotten himself into a good relationship. She was always being the typical mother, worried that he was too lonely, constantly concerned about him. It would be nice to convince her that he was okay, even if only for a short period.

Besides, this was just commitment to a role for an extended period of time. Dan was an actor. It wouldn’t be unusual to pretend, it was what he did for a living.

The longer Dan spent thinking about it, the more he ignored the bad and focused on the good.

So there he was. Sitting in Sam's office, pen in hand, hovering over the paper. Was he really going to sign this contract that bond him to a role for 6 months?

Yes, yes he was.

His world was going to shift exponentially but almost every way seemed like it would be for the better. Maybe.

Maybe not.

At this point the only way he could find out was by signing the paper. He’d gone over nearly every scenario in his head and at this point the only way to really figure out was to put his name on that line.

So he did. Dan signed his name on the dotted line.

He was now officially and legally in a relationship. It felt weird, especially since the interaction with his ‘boyfriend’ had consisted of one sentence and a weirdly elongated staring contest.  

“So, now that that’s out of the way, we need to make you two official on instagram.”

Shannon was right, that was part of the deal.

“How are we supposed to do that? I don’t have a picture of us together.”

Sam, who had stayed relatively quiet, simply stared at Dan as if he’d just said the dumbest thing ever.

“Daniel, you’ll be seeing him again. When you’re ‘in a relationship’ with someone, you tend to see them more than once.”

Oh.

So he was going to see Phil again. Soon.

Fuck.

Something about that fact was both startling and a tad bit titillating.

“Right, yeah, I knew that. I guess it just didn’t sink in yet. So when is he coming round?”

Again, Dan was met with a dumbfounded look from Sam. He seemed to be missing the obvious today. His mind a little preoccupied, he supposed.

“You can’t take the photo here, Dan. That will look sketch. You need to invite him to yours, so paparazzi see him and hype up the relationship.”

In order to avoid Sams snark, Shannon stepped in and talked. It hadn’t really occurred to Dan that him and Phil would actually hang out. That he would have Phil inside his house. Suddenly everything became overwhelmingly real.  

“Oh, oh shit. Okay. How do I do that?”

Apparently it was ‘plan everything without Dan and then act like he’s dumb because he wasn’t let in on the plans’ day.

“Dan, there’s this lovely thing called a telephone that you can use. We just have to call his publicist. All you need to do is be at home, which isn’t hard for you.”

Wow. Okay. It was also roast Dan day.

Sure, Dan didn’t tend to leave his house unless he was filming something. It was just too much hassle to get out when it took so much planning. In public he was expected to keep up appearances. At home he could get away with wearing a baggy tee shirt and sweats with no eye bats.

Since ‘Switch Hitter’ was set to come out in 2 months and trailers were starting to drop, Dan was more relevant in the media than usual. If he wasn’t up to leaving his house during his usual schedule, he sure as hell wasn’t wanting to when there was handfuls of paparazzi camping outside his gate.

“Tomorrow. Phil will be coming to your house, you will take a photo together that is suitable for coming out on instagram. Nobody will be their to monitor you, I trust you will not need supervision. Please don’t fuck this up Dan.”

Out of the whole 5 years Dan had worked with Sam, never once had he heard him curse, let alone at him. Shit was serious, Sam was pulling out the big guns.

It was like he was being scolded on having girls (or boys, he’d be out as bi since he was 14) in his room as a teenager. “I trust you will not need supervision” sounded a lot like a threat. Even his mum wasn’t that passive aggressive about being alone with a potential lover.

Not that Phil was a potential lover. This was a business relationship, nothing else.

God this was getting awkward already.

Dan didn’t want to play the ‘ask a question and get a glare from Sam’ game again so he just nodded in response.

And with that Dan was excused from Sams office and told to go home and make his house ‘presentable.’ Shannon offered to help, but Dan assured her he could do it all by himself. He could manage throwing out the old pizza boxes without assistance. The amount of times the paparazzi outside his house had gotten excited that a car was pulling up, only to find it was a pizza delivery boy was astounding.

Andreas, per usual, was standing outside the door, just waiting for Dan to walk out. Maybe a day would come when Dan could feel safe going from his house to his agents office but quite frankly that day was not today. On more than one occasion he’d been attacked by paparazzi who took it too far and a couple of times he was met with some very homophobic bystanders who chased him. After all was said and done, he’d rather pay someone and count the money well spent for his peace of mind than be in constant fear with a little more change in his pocket.

“Any more stops today?”

“No, let’s just head home. You’re probably tired of waiting around for me.”

“It’s my job.”

No other words were said the rest of the car ride back to Dan’s abode. When they arrived Dan got walked to his house and then him and Andreas parted ways.

He only had one day to get his shit together. One day was not enough time to get shit together.

Dan contemplated hiring a cleaning service. He honest to god thought about searching one online rather than have to clean up his own filth so his fake boyfriend wouldn’t be so disgusted that he ripped the contract. It wasn’t that his house was that bad, it was just tedious and not how Dan wanted to spend his evening.

He started with the takeout boxes and random junk that he just tended to leave around when he was running to get somewhere on time. A pair of shoes, a misplaced watch, some miscellaneous jewelry.

Was it weird if he picked up his bedroom? It wasn’t like he was going to entice Phil into his bedroom, but what if he walked past? Maybe Dan would at least make his bed. Try to be semi presentable just in case.

Oh god. He sounded like a maniac that thought this relationship was real. He needed to do a quick reality check and realize it was all fake. It was staged. He needed to get that through his thick dick infatuated brain before he managed to screw everything up.

Shit. Sam had good reason to tell him not to fuck stuff up.

Dan made the executive decision to make his bed, using the excuse that he needed to anyways, to be a ‘functional human.’ His therapist would be proud.

As he was just folding down the edge of his duvet there was a buzz. The buzz that meant someone was trying to get into the gate.

This was… unexpected. For a brief moment Dan wondered if he had subconsciously ordered a pizza. Or maybe he was receiving a gift basket from Phil’s team from signing the contract. No wait, mail doesn’t get delivered at 5:43 at night.

Who the fuck was at his gate?

He made his way to the intercom near the front door, the little microphone that allowed him to speak to the person attempting to enter his home. More often than not it was a reporter requesting an ‘impromptu interview.’ Don’t get him wrong, Dan loved answering questions and interacting with people who cared what he said, but at his house, unannounced? That was just unprofessional and unsafe.

“Uh, how may I help you?”

He was really fucking awkward.

“I’m here to drop off Phil Lester.”

What. The. Fuck.

“Is this a prank?”

Phil was supposed to be by his house tomorrow. Sam had explicitly told him tomorrow. As in 24 hours, as in not right fucking now.

“No sir, this isn’t a prank.”

The driver sounded a bit annoyed with him but that was the least of Dan’s problems right now. Philip Lester was outside his house a day early and there was no way to prepare because he was asking to be let in right now.

“Uh, alright, I’ll open the gate.”

As soon as he typed in the code to open the gate he flew to his room to grab his phone. In the time it took for Phils car to pull up, Dan was able to send a quick SOS message to Shannon, asking what the hell was going on.

Ding. Dong.

The doorbell was ringing. They were there.

How did his hair look? Was what he wearing earlier appropriate for the occasion? What even was the occasion? First date with his fake boyfriend? Was this a date? A ‘fake’ date of course.

He opened the door. Standing there, true to the drivers word, was Phil Lester and a very tall, muscular man, that Dan had seen outside the boardroom door days earlier. This was the real motherfucking deal, no prank in sight.

Holy fuck.

“Uh, come in.” It took everything in Dan to make that statement not come out like a question.

The bodyguard stepped off to the side and Dan moved to the side, allowing Phil to walk into Dan’s home. Phil Lester. Walking into Dan’s home. Fuck.

“I trust the premise is secure?” Phil’s bodyguard was speaking to him about security. Dan didn’t know anything about that other than Andreas always said he was safe in his home. Nobody had ever broken in, so there was that.

“Yep, super secure.”  

“Alright, well, call when you need a ride.” This time the bodyguard was addressing Phil. They had gone from a high security professional to a parent dropping off his stepson at a sleepover. At least Dan wasn’t the only awkward one here.

Phil nodded, clearly embarrassed by his bodyguards choice of words.

And then Phil’s bodyguard closed the door and it was just Dan and Phil, alone, in Dan’s big house. They were just both stood awkwardly by the front door.

“Uh, we can head into the lounge if you want.”

So they did. Dan led Phil into the lounge and they both sat down on the sofa and they both did that awkward thing where they push their knees together because they didn’t know what to do with themselves.

Something had convinced Dan that the great Phil Lester was going to be the talkative, explosive personality he saw on the screen. Dan should’ve known better than anyone that what you saw in the interviews wasn’t the full truth. Phil was just another introverted awkward guy who had a knack for pretending.

“I’m going to go make a call real quick, I’ll be right back.”

Shannon had texted him back with a simple ‘call me.’

Dan stepped into his kitchen and dialed Shannons number, having it committed by memory at this point.

“Shan, what the fuck is going on. I was told tomorrow. There is one Philip Lester sitting in my lounge right now.”

He was doing the hushed whisper thing with his voice just in case Phil could hear him from the other room. He didn’t think he could hear him, but it was always good to play it safe.

“His publicist just must’ve gotten mixed up on the phone, don’t panic kid. Just play it cool and don’t forget to take the instagram photo.”

Somehow Shannons words comforted him, they always managed to.

Okay. Cool. Play it cool. He could do that.

“Okay, I’m gonna go now Shan. I’ll play it cool. I’ve got this.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Shannon or himself more.

“Have fun. Do not forget the instagram picture Dan.”

Right. Get that picture.

Dan hung up the phone, feeling much better about the situation now that he had Shannon’s wonderful words of wisdom.

Despite the newfound confidence, Dan was not too keen on heading back into the lounge and striking up a conversation with his new ‘boyfriend.’ Still, he did the honorable thing and went back into his lounge.

“Uhh hey. Thanks for coming.”

Phil, clearly startled by Dans reappearance, jumped a bit at the words and dropped his phone onto his lap.

“Oh uh, thanks for having me. I mean, thanks for everything. Sorry the situation is- well that this is how we meet.” Phil looked so anxious as he spoke and Dan couldn’t help but feel bad. For the first time he wasn’t thinking about how this would affect himself, Dan was thinking about how shitty Phil must feel after being publicly outed without his consent and then being forced by his management into this ‘relationship.’ Dan had a choice, Phil really didn’t.

“What? You mean you don’t meet all your friends through fake relationships to save your reputation?”

The humor certainly lightened the mood, both of them had a little chuckle. Dan felt a small sense of accomplishment for lifting the awkward tension.

“No, I’d have to say this is a first. So we’re friends?” Phil asked, still sitting on the sofa as Dan stood by the doorway.

“Well I hope so, otherwise the next few months are gonna be hella awkward.”

Again Phil laughed a little, making Dans stomach do that flip thing. This was going great, Phil didn’t hate him yet.

Dan crossed the room and sat down on the sofa next to Phil.

“Friends?”

Sticking out his hand, Dan waited, hoping Phil would shake on it.

“Friends.”

And they shook on it.  

[kentahq]

momo -anon-

send me names anonymously and I’ll share my personal experience with the person with that name         

      Where do I start? Uh, there was this girl who used to be a friend of a friend, a girl from whom I knew nothing other than her name. Time went by and we happened to join the same roleplay, but then again I got to know nothing from her, in fact our characters didn’t even interact that much (so as to not say not at all) so that second ‘encounter’ went by uneventfully. Some more time went by and I receive a follow from one of her blogs, but then again none of us talks, we just— happen to like and reblog the same posts but that’s it, we interact in silences. That’s until one day, that girl, talks to me through IM. We talk of nothing much — life, friends, whatever. I learn her real name, and I tell her I think that it is really pretty and I really do believe that. For a brief moment I take that as important but then it’s like whatever and we carry on, but then I make my typical move of going in too deep into a conversation, into personal matters, and she backs away and doesn’t respond until the following day to talk about some concerts that are said to be held here in Buenos Aires, the city we both so happen to live in. Somehow our conversations start to be a periodical retelling of the news we heard about these concerts and we eventually talk about going to buy those tickets, and maybe even seeing each other but at least I was not sure she meant it.

         Said day comes, I go from early in the morning to get my tickets, but in the course of half an hour they sold out and I’m left with the horrible sensation of defeat. I stay back for a couple of hours, in my stupid determination of getting tickets or some sort of explanation for this crappy ticketing system, but then I get tired and the rest of the girls that were lined up start to leave. So I resolve to leave as well, to just stop hoping for something that is not going to happen, and as I’m about to leave this girl texts me (we had exchanged numbers beforehand just in case) telling me she’s close by and that even if the tickets had sold out she wants to be there to see it for herself. So I run back, I tell her to wait for me, that I’ll be there with her in a moment. When I return I don’t seem to find anyone that looks like her whatsapp picture so I drift away and focus on a conversation going on between a group of fans near by, but then a voice — a really sweet and clear voice — calls for my name and I know it’s her and so I turn around and I see a woman, because that’s what she was, not a girl, but a mature woman and I’m left agape because damn, she speaks like a teen but looks like the adult I hope to be someday (but I will never be that person, I have too much of a baby face lol). And so she smiles at me and I was not expecting her face to change completely from that facial expression. Suddenly, she looks five years younger and I think I’m a little bit in love with that smile for a second, but then I get distracted and I tell her to sit down. We talk for a few seconds in some random staircase, but then I tell her that we could cross the street and go to Mc Donald’s and so we do. We end up having lunch there and laughing and talking about fucking everything. I don’t know how we managed to do that, but during that whole day we spoke for like six hours like it was the most natural thing in the world, as if we already knew each other. I had to tell her goodbye with a really heavy weight in my heart…

        After that day we talk non-stop. We chat everyday from early in the day to deep in the night. It’s like we have too much to catch up on, and we don’t seem to mind the never ending conversation. But at times talking turns into flirting and I feel I’m being my usual romantic self that just craves for that attention, so I stop myself from going further. And it’s easier online, it’s easier not seeing her face and imagining she is just a picture and a screen but deep down I know she is not. We happen to arrange to meet in person once more, she seems shy to be the first to ask, but I greedily say yes because fuck I was hoping for that to happen for so long but I felt that it was not my place to want such a thing. 

          We meet close to my university and it’s the most platonic encounter ever. In the sense that we talk like friends, and laugh like friends – and I don’t know how to explain it, the whole aura seemed to be like we are friends friends friends and nothing else. But the more I felt that, the more I realized that I’d totally be not friends with her if she lets me. When the night falls we are sitting outside in a bench, still talking, and there is something about her life that makes me soft and I cry to her, I tell her I’m afraid to speak to her about certain things because I’m afraid I might hurt her. But she’s quick to tell me that’s not the case, that she wants me to talk about my life without taboos, that she wants to know about my family, my friends, anything. And so when I look back up, tears in my eyes and with a face that I bet looked like hell, I happen to see the shape of her lips and I think to myself: ‘I’d have no problem with kissing her right now, in fact, I would like to do that’. But I don’t, and it’s okay. My heart it’s still not ready to move that fast anyway. 

       We still talk a lot via chat, but at times we happen to fight a lot, I tend to feel attacked, and I start noticing that I might feel something for her and I shouldn’t. What hurts the most is that I feel like she doesn’t like me, that she just flirts to keep me happy but that’s it. Little do I know that she likes me too, I’ll find out later on and under the worst conditions.

      We fight. She tells me she likes me and she can’t hold it in anymore and I can’t say nothing, because I’m loyal still, or I want to be. But what do I do when I like her so? I feel like throwing my life away for her, if only I could… Wait, but I can. And so I notice that I need to stop hiding behind my fears, and when she talks to me again I tell her that I do like her too and that I’d like to talk about this in person.

     Before we know it we are kissing, we are dating, we are fighting, we are making up, we are knowing more about ourselves, we are loving each other, we are learning from each other. I love my girlfriend so much, and her name is Momo.  

[fapangel]

Since I first issued my dire predictions of civil violence in the not-so-distant future, I’ve been looking, exhaustively, for evidence I’m wrong. III Have you considered this angle: The traditional media's hyping that up? I mean, we know in the early/mid 60's the newspapers and cameras focused on the small number of violent protestors during anti-war protests and made them out to be the majority. If the media has no shred of integrity left, why are you looking at them for evidence of integrity?

That’s just the thing - I’m not. I’m looking at people. at the “man on the street” and in both my personal life (as in actual meatspace, not online) and in actual journalism (some people still do it, outside and inside the mainstream establishment,) I’m seeing a decidedly worrisome tone. 

We all remember “literally shaking” on Twitter the night of the election, but there were other words going around quite a bit - sick, disgusted, afraid, scared, etc. Twitter - as it’s used by the majority - gives a quick insight into the personal emotions of the people using it. (This is why PR uses that bank on the presumed intimacy - like Trump’s twitter - tend to be more successful, and more careful, sterile treatments, like the Clinton campaign that took 12 staffers and 10 drafts to compose a single tweet, typically lack traction.) Sure, us seal-clubbin neocons and tree-hugging liberals had a good giggle at the triggered snowflakes breathlessly predicting the Right Wing Gestapo emerging from the woodwork to bash the gays - but then a friend of mine told me it’d actually happened, post-election, to a friend of his, and that’s when my laughter stopped. 

As was explained to me, the LGBTQ folks feared that Trump’s election would be seen as “permission” by all the knuckledraggers, and it seems it was. So it’s time to ask yourself the question - how did the knuckledraggers get that impression to begin with? Maybe - just maybe - it had something to do with the media screaming, 24/7, for months, that Trump was literally Hitler and that he was going to oppress all the gays and Jews and Muslims and fluffy bunnies. “Of course he’s Our Guy,” the Illinois Nazis said with glee, “the entire news media keeps screaming about it!” 

Also consider that the media’s reinforcing the left wing’s narrative, which makes people on the left wing much more likely to believe it since it’s validating their own beliefs. Vox.com has an excellent article on the Russian conspiracy blitz and why it’s playing so well with Democrats, and the author is neither a Trump fan or apologist (as is abundantly clear from the article itself.) It’s worth reading entire, but this quote stands out: 

“Misinformation is much more likely to stick when it conforms with people’s preexisting beliefs, especially those connected to social groups that they’re a part of,” says Arceneaux. “In politics, that plays out (usually) through partisanship: Republicans are much more likely to believe false information that confirms their worldview, and Democrats are likely to do the opposite.”

The article accurately compares the current phenomena to the entire “birther” movement on the right - it’s the exact same psychological phenomena, so unsurprisingly you see it manifesting with human beings on both sides of the spectrum. A lot of politics falls into that category, and it’s where most of that “political common ground” I keep talking about can be found. The difference is that the Left controls the lion’s share of the communication media and in turn, our culture. Hollywood - a cultural engine if there ever was one - is extremely left wing and has been since before McCarthy’s day. The modern telecommunications and internet media, which lives and breathes in Sillicon Valley, is likewise invested in the left wing; Erich Schmidt, chairman of Alphabet (Google’s parent company,) founded a PAC to give Hillary’s campaign IT support during the election, and we all remember how the CEO of Mozilla was hurled out of office because he dared to cast a private, anti-revolutionary vote. The next time you hear leftists talking about how “de-platforming” is legitimate, remember that the leftists literally own the fucking platforms. Nobody’s gonna find your conservative site if Google de-lists it. This is the problem - both sides have their lunatics willing to swallow any shit they’re being shoveled, but only one side has a massive megaphone that’s actively colluding - complete with sticky-handed twitter high-fives - to push the same narrative across the board, and cross-validate it. 

Hilariously, the Vox author (Kevin Drum) doesn’t see it, making the article a self-demonstrating one: 

Luckily for the Democratic Party, there isn’t really a pre-built media ecosystem for amplifying this like there was for Republicans. In the absence of left-wing Limbaughs and Breitbarts, media outlets totally unconcerned with factual rigor, it’s much harder for this stuff to become mainstream.

… except he does see it, because he goes on to name some examples (and some tweets) of people chugging the kool-aid… but all of them Democratic politicians or DNC staffers who should know better, not the media itself. He’s clearly intelligent and well-balanced, he’s standing in the middle of a bullshit cyclone he knows is bullshit, but he’s only just now starting to smell the rot and he hasn’t even noticed objective journalism’s decaying corpse yet, despite standing in its ribcage. If someone like him can be so stymied, how do you think That Guy - you know, [the bitter old man |the aging hippie creep] who always [ sits on his porch yelling at birds | shuffles around Trader Joe’s in grungy sandals comparing kale prices] and blames everything on [ dat gal-dern Mooslim Obongo | the military-industrial-jew-lizardman-complex] is going to react?

Some people do actually believe this shit and they are mostly Democrats - hell, here’s a Gallup poll with the numbers if you doubt my analysis. And to re-iterate, they’re inflaming extremists on both sides of the spectrum, because the more violence antifa commits, the more the Illinois Nazis will croon “see, we were right all along!” 

The traditional mass media engaging in this shit is much, much worse than the right-wing “alternative news ecosystem,” the blogs, the talk radio hosts, infogiggles, etc. They’re all personality-based and those personalities differ and disagree (if they didn’t, how would they offer content distinct from what the others offer?) This is natural, because conservatives argue. They argue a lot. It might surprise some of you given how often the media portrays the NRA as triple Satan, but there’s gun rights groups that exist specifically because some conservatives think the NRA is too wussy. You’ve got social conservatives, business/free market conservatives, REEE TAXES conservatives, etc., and they rarely see eye to eye. Ann Coulter - the Screeching Enchantress herself - once wrote that “Republicans can’t put together a two-car funeral without writing six books denouncing each other.” 

You don’t see this on the left - not in the media, at any rate. There’s more to this than just the obvious mainstream media collusion; the back-slapping and twitterwank, although their deliberate and conscious effort plays a huge part. There’s also how the left wing thinks. 

If you’re old enough to remember the Bush years, you’ll remember how often the left would attack Rush Limbaugh - even though an entire ecosystem of conservative, national talk-radio had sprung up by then, so he was no longer The One And Only Conservative Voice In Mass Media. Liberals treated - and attacked - him as the de facto leader of the right wing, and this puzzled conservatives no end, because a pundit, however clever, is not a goddamn politician or leader. 

The left wing, however, thinks differently. Unlike classical liberalism, which is mostly concerned with balancing the inherent rights of individuals with the rights of every other individual in a social contract, the leftists (communism/socialism/etc.) focus on the  collective as the central, essential point, and move from there. This is why “virtue signalling” exists; leftists care very much about what others think of them. Emmet Rensin’s essay on smugness in liberalism, which I’ve mentioned many times, showcases it well; while describing his subject, he also illustrated the mechanisms by which it manifests - left-wing culture. Everything he described - the virtue-signalling to others that you know the correct facts, the knowing, even the “Eye roll, crying emoji, forward to John Oliver for sick burns,“ exemplifies it. This Mother Jones writer’s reaction to his piece has a telling line: 

“I’ve long since gotten tired of the endless reposting of John Oliver’s "amazing,” “perfect,” “mic drop” destruction of whatever topic he takes on this week.”

They key here is John Oliver. When leftists look at Rush Limbaugh, they see a conservative John Oliver - in short, a demagogue. Demagogues and cults of personality have always been of prime importance with the left wing - remember how Obama was lionized by the left during his first campaign? To say nothing of the Kennedy’s being immortalized as “Camelot.” Yes, conservatives liked Reagan a whole lot, but we don’t vote in entire fucking royal dynasties, which is why Low-Energy Jeb is cooling his heels right now. And these demagogues, you’ll note, are all on the same page when it comes to ripping into conservatives… and their epic, wicked put-downs then become The Big Joke that the left wing retweets and reblogs and parrots to each other ad nauseum. Remember Tina Fey’s mockery of the only working mother leftists have ever despised? I’ve seen people on facebook quote “I can see Russia from my house” fully believing that Sarah Palin herself said it - the Tina Fey skit is the reality, for them. Truth is lost around the twentieth re-tweet, or so. 

And these “comedians” - in truth, pundits and opinion columnists - base their jokes on whatever quote-unquote “revelations” aired in the mainstream media’s news broadcasts that morning. 

If you’ve ever noticed how quickly a new catchphrase or word gets onto every leftist’s lips - like “fake news” - this is how it’s done. It’s not just the mass media moving in lockstep co-ordination to get the message out; it’s how the phrases become the newest “in-thing” with the entire leftist culture, that then get bandied about in the social sphere, on and off-line. After the cruise missile strike on Syria, I watched, on /pol/ alone, about thirty different varying interpretations, everything from “Assad and Putin are unironically heroes shove omfg I love facism Trump why u blow them up” to “I HOPE HE DROPS A MOAB ON RUSSIA NEXT FUCK THE REDS NUCLEAR WAR NOW” to a bunch of “he’s really playing 64 dimensional chess check this shit just you wait” that covered everything in-between. And that’s just on /pol/, which is so full of bullshit and jokes they literally made a fucking containment board for the containment board - called /bantz/. You don’t see this in the leftist blogosphere - the opinions all align the same way and vary only in magnitude of gibbering lunacy. And the John Oliver quotes don’t just define the conversation, they define the fucking language - for instance, “Drumpf.” 

Do not, for one second, think that the media doesn’t know how all this shit works. They may be delusional, but they don’t control and run vast media empires because they’re stupid. And a lot of them have been at this for a long, long time. 

[allydsgn]

Supply Recommendations for Graphic Design Students

Hello! It’s been a while since I’ve posted something like this... so bear with me! It was requested by an anon that’s entering a university as a Graphic Design major, so here are some supplies I recommend and why! (I may do a spoken and visual extended version as a video, so let me know what you guys think!)

(disclaimer: this is my opinion and I haven’t tried everything in the world, so if you have your own recommendations definitely reblog and say so in your caption! I’d love to check out your favorite supplies!)

Categories include:

Day-to-day supplies

The Big One$

Projects

Some Fun and Fancy Stuff

DAY - TO - DAY SUPPLIES

Sharpie pens and markers

Cheap-ish

Reliable

You can find them basically anywhere

Great for black and white abstractions/sketches with different marker thicknesses

They also have pretty colors for note-taking!

X-Acto Knife

Cuts in a straight line

Replaceable blades

In most art and office stores and even in places like Walmart

If you cut something sticky and ruin your blade, just replace it!

Goes with a ruler to cut in a straight line

Masking Tape

Holds things down without ripping it

Keeps prints rolled up

Keep one with you or at home

USB Drive

Always have a USB drive ready for use!

Turn in files, take files to the printer, or even just taking files to a different machine to work on is always a possibility. 

If you make it a habit to keep it on you, then you won’t forget it on the days that really matter.

Noise canceling headphones (or at least ear buds)

Rowdy classmate ignorer

Helps blast music in your ears to help you focus

Marshmallow buds that go in your ears works best for this

A drink that makes you happy

That morning coffee before a 9AM studio 3-hour class, or that water bottle during an afternoon session can really help you out. 

Helps keep you going!

I know it sounds small, but your mood definitely affects your productivity!

A sketchbook (any kind will do!)

Literally, can by any paper quality, based on what you usually draw with or sketch with (like to use marker? Either have an extra page behind it or get marker paper)

Any price, any color, any size (try to aim for letter-size/A4)

Make sure it fits with what you usually carry around (backpacks can hold a 9″x12″, but purses would carry a Moleskine size or smaller)

Have 15 minutes before English starts and you thought of something? Take out that handy dandy sketchbook! Bored in said English class? Handy dandy sketchbook strikes again!

Notebook for notes

More than just for typical note taking!

Good for recording feedback

Track any last-minute changes to projects or deadlines

To-do lists will help understand what’s due next class and not get super anxious!

Metal cork-backed ruler

A great companion for that X-Acto knife!

Cork back helps not slide around

Metal means you can’t accidentally carve off the edge (like you would a plastic or wooden ruler)

Found in most art stores and can get pricey for bigger ones, but if you take care of it then it’ll last forever

Make sure to get at least two sizes (a longer one for trimming cover sheets for 16″x20″ mounts and a smaller one-foot ruler for trimming business cards and smaller things like that)

Post-it notes

Great for making notes on things that you don’t want to directly mark. 

Good for just keeping in mind anything you don’t want to forget (especially if you stick them to your laptop, they’ll be hard to miss).

Prisma Markers

These art markers are my personal favorite. 

You’ll hear all kinds of brands, preferences, and prices. 

Copics are nice and are very aesthetic, but they’re also about $7-$8 per marker. Concept markers from Jerry’s Artarama are very cheap at about $2 per marker, but the colors on their caps are sometimes misleading, and Prisma Markers are a happy medium at about $4 - $5 per marker. 

They’re at most art stores 

For me, they’re a happy medium price-wise and I like working with them. (Concept markers maybe I’d get the black because it’s cheaper)

Binder clips

Keep sketches and randomly sized and trimmed papers together

I prefer binder clips over paper clips because they can hold more and group things nicely

You can also hang things with these if you want on a thumbtack

Hair Ties

Keeps hair out of the way when creating mock-ups that include glue and X-acto knives

Rolls things up

Groups things up (markers and other utensils)

Cheap and effective!

Rubber bands are a little meaner, especially to hair or trying to get them off a long paper roll.

Circle Tool

Basically, something that makes perfect circles. 

This can either be a circle template, a compass, or some other device that you find that makes different sized circles. 

You can go cheap on these

The Toolbox

All these little things that I keep mentioning to bring with you need to be contained somewhere! 

I like putting what I’m using for a current project in a toolbox and bringing that to school.

I suggest going with something that’ll fit in a backpack or that you don’t mind carrying around.

Really only carry it if you think you’ll need it.

You can carry a smaller version of typical tools (pens, pencils, markers, scissors, x-acto, etc.) and leave the rest at home, too.

The Baggage

Not the emotional kind, but the one that carries all of these crazy supplies I’m recommending. 

In university, you don’t have all of your graphic design classes in one day (I would hope), so having a typical backpack works fine for the smaller supplies. 

If a project is due the next day and you’re planning to work at the school and you need to bring everything, then I highly suggest a rolling backpack!

Don’t kill your back!! Messenger bags only work if you’re not bringing much, otherwise, do a backpack (or a rolling one).

THE BIG ONE$

Laptop

Almost all graphic designers will tell you to use a Mac, but of course, not all graphic designers can afford one.

If you can afford a Mac, I’d recommend it.

If you can’t afford a Mac, go with a cheaper alternative, but not TOO cheap. It still needs to last 4 years and run all of your programs.

Wait until you actually need to buy one (that way you can get the latest models or earlier models at cheaper prices).

External Hard Drives (BACK EVERYTHING UP!)

I would even say have at least two (current semester and archive(s))

You never know when previously mentioned laptop may die, malfunction, or wipe everything.

Keep a back-up for sending to competitions, putting in portfolios, and just for safe keeping.

KEEP IT ORGANIZED. You need to know what you have and don’t have so you don’t “double save” something in two separate folders.

A decent phone with decent camera quality

Nowadays most people do have this phone already on them, but if you’re one of the low-budget phone holders, then I highly suggest to get a higher quality phone.

Picture taking for process photos can actually be done with a phone camera if it’s good enough, you can just fix things up in photoshop. 

Having a decent phone will let you also use helpful and productive apps such as camscanner, schedule makers, and Adobe apps

Raising your mood with a higher quality of life will help raise productivity!

If you can’t open snapchat without it force closing then you miss out on your friend’s lives or whenever they get an update on a project and you don’t. Social media can honestly be helpful sometimes as people post their process online!

Drawing tablet

Wacom works well enough for me!

You don’t have to go super expensive with all the bells and whistles for this... you just need something that draws.

These can get a little pricey (mine being at $90 and I got one step-up from the cheapest one at the time)

You don’t absolutely need a tablet, but it is very handy.

If you don’t do illustration often I would not recommend it.

You can also hold off on getting a tablet and just hand-draw something, scan it, and fix it in whatever program (or vectorize/image trace in illustrator and mess with it that way)

PROJECTS

Tracing paper

Helps trace things when abstracting

Covers mounted work with a protective sheet

I prefer the rolls, but they’re way more expensive than the 9″x12″ pad (maybe not per foot, but it’s initially more expensive)

Spray mount/Adhesive spray

One way to stick two things together

You need a lot of space and throw away paper under what you’re spraying

You’ll definitely get all of it everywhere (which is good if you want to make sure corners don’t stick up on a mounted piece, but it’s bad if your garage floor is suddenly sticky)

Liquid cement

Another way to stick things together and is a little more forgiving. 

Elmer’s brand is the one that I have, and basically, if you mess up or “over-glue” something, you can rub the excess off (like you would the typical white Elmer's glue).

When you’ve rubbed it off, it basically becomes those little gray things that erasers produce that you can just brush away. 

It comes with a designated brush attached to the lid on the inside (super convenient) and it’s easy to apply and store (smaller bottle than the adhesive spray can).

Portfolio case

For when you’re carrying larger pieces from one place to another (such as a mounted piece or a large editorial) like turning in your final presentation of your project.

You can get a big fancy one if you really want to, but at least get the bare minimum to carry something from one place to another without it getting folded or wet. (especially you commuters/bus-riders)

SOME FUN AND FANCY STUFF

The big paper cutter

Even I don’t have this one, but whenever I use the one at school or at FedEx it makes trimming things down so much easier! 

You line it up, you drag the blade across, and then you’ve got a perfectly straight line. 

Again, if you can afford the money and space for it I recommend it, but my school provides one for us.

It’s kind of one of those things that you don’t NEED if you have an X-acto knife, but it speeds things up a bit

High-quality camera

Similar to the phone concept... taking nice photos of your work is always a plus. 

The camera I would reserve for mock-up photos for submitting pieces or getting photography for an editorial work. 

Someone in your class ought to have one that you can borrow (and maybe even the program will offer one to borrow), but it’s always good to have your own things.

Also, being able to stage your own photos instead of photoshopping mock-up templates always feels more authentic and looks better in a portfolio. (you’re not the only one looking up Photoshop mock-up templates in the design world)

Light table

You can either buy one or make one (easier than you think)

Very helpful when you’re tracing! 

This is the most useful when you’re doing abstractions or you’re trying to refine hand-drawn ideas. 

You can make one with a shadow-box frame and some LED lights. 

Again, not necessary since programs might actually have some at school that you can borrow.

A second monitor

Web design!

Programs like Brackets do live-preview, so when you code the changes apply immediately to a chrome preview window, so seeing the changes as you code is helpful! 

Putting up inspiration or just other documents to keep in mind on the other screen makes things easier to work with.

Fancy keyboard with custom keys

This one was actually a recommendation from my boyfriend (who is a tech geek). 

Basically, there are keyboards that you can map shortcuts to specific keys on the keyboard. 

There are some shortcut keys that you’ll use a million times in a project and if you feel that a function key being assigned to it would be easier instead, and you have money to splurge, this is the keyboard to go with! 

This is totally unnecessary, but could be lots of fun and helpful!

iPad and Apple pen

Digitally drawing on a tablet with a stylus can be good for digital note taking or just drawing in general (as an alternative to the drawing tablet). 

My professor uses his for sketch notes (which is always fun) and sometimes I see people doing illustrations straight into the tablet or just concepts. 

Sketching concepts digitally allows you to put down ideas quickly, but also be able to save them without having to worry about scanning or taking pictures of the drawings. 

Another splurge option that obviously has other uses than this, but is completely unnecessary.

MORE Prisma Markers

Remember when I said Prisma Markers before?

You really only need a basic color set and maybe a gray set. Any more than that then you’re falling into a fun and fancy category for supplies. 

They’re not the cheapest things in the world, but using markers definitely brings your sketches up a level versus pencil or black and white sketches.

It’s also good for making preliminary color schemes and other illustrations. 

Have several blacks because those are usually the first marker to go dry.

That’s all I got! I hope that helped and I’m sorry it was so long, I tried to condense... but I’ll make a visual/audio version that might be easier to digest!

[toraonice]

Yuri on Ice interview translation - Febri 2017/03 (p29-33)

Finally the interview from Febri is finished! I like Kubo’s interviews but I swear I don’t want to see any more for some time... This one is also mentioning a lot of stuff that I haven’t read in other interviews so far. It’s a bit long but definitely worth reading!

Translation is under the cut. I might fix the format a little later on to make it visually better, now I have to leave to go to Wonder Festival... (who needs sleep?). If you have any questions about the interview feel free to message me.

***If you wish to share this translation please do it by reblogging or posting a link to it*** 
***Re-translating into other languages is ok but please mention that this post is the source***

Staff interview Original plan / manga storyboard / character plan Mitsurou Kubo Mangaka Mitsurou Kubo is the one who, together with director Sayo Yamamoto, created the basis of the series. It was the first time that she worked on a story about sports and that she was involved with the production of an anime. We have asked her her feelings about this series.

—We know that this project started when you were invited by director (Sayo) Yamamoto. Yes. Originally I only watched figure skating on TV whenever I felt like it, but when I talked about that on the radio director Yamamoto listened to it and contacted me to ask me “would you be willing to create an anime about figure skating with me?”.

—That was the first time you met director Yamamoto, and you didn’t know each other before then, is that correct? Yes. However, and this is something that I was told later on, previously (Yasuyuki) Okamura-chan, when he was drinking with some members of the staff of the anime “Space Dandy” (broadcasted in 2014), messaged me on LINE to tell me that among them there was a person that was my fan. At a later time I found out that this person was director Yamamoto. I was surprised because I never even thought I had fans in the anime industry, and I would have never expected that one day we would end up working together like this.

—That is indeed a curious coincidence. When did you first become interested in figure skating? I used to watch it on TV every once in a while since when I was a kid. But I didn’t really know the rules and the athletes, my impressions were really just like “this skater is so cool!” or “this performance is so moving!”. I enjoyed reading what one of my friends who loves figure skating wrote online. The reason I was talking about figure skating on the radio and on TV is that it was during the Sochi Olympics, and I was saying things like “Mao-chan (Asada) is so tough” or “what (Tatsuki) Machida-kun said impressed me”, in other words the typical level of a person who watches it on TV. I only started to look up the rules and technical elements when I began working on “Yuri on Ice”.

—Basically, you were not just interested in male figure skating, but in figure skating as a sport in general. Yes. If Mao-chan was skating on TV I would watch her, and if (Yuzuru) Hanyuu-san was performing I would cheer on him. It’s a sport where Japanese athletes are doing great in international tournaments as well, so I really felt like cheering on them regardless of the gender.

—What do you find fascinating about figure skating? Of course I also find it amazing that they’re challenging the limits of the human body, but what most attracted me is that, while being a sport, they dance to the music. On the ice you are also required to be a performer that expresses something. Bound by surprisingly strict rules, you compete to get the best score. I think that the unchanging charm of figure skating lies in how athletes are able to always surprise and give new emotions to the ones who watch them, no matter whether they’re people who don’t have much knowledge about the sport or people who always support it.

—When director Yamamoto talked to you about “Yuri on Ice” did you decide to accept right away? Ever since the first time I met director Yamamoto I felt that it would be fun working with her, and that impression hasn’t changed. However, my knowledge of the sport was really basic, and since it’s a major sport with so many fans, at the beginning I wasn’t confident that I would be able to create something convincing that anyone would appreciate. I still decided to accept nevertheless mostly thanks to director Yamamoto’s enthusiasm. She knows so much about figure skating and loves it so much more than me, that I felt that with her I was willing to and would be able to create something. I too wanted to be influenced by her.

—This is the first time that you write a serious story about sports, is it right? Until then, even though I was interested in drawing manga about sports, I couldn’t find the courage to try. First of all you need technical knowledge of the sport, and most importantly I had no experience in playing anything myself. Of course there are mangaka who draw manga about baseball even though they have never played baseball, but I’m too scared and would never be able to do it. However, one time when I consulted George Morikawa, author of “Hajime no Ippo”, about this, he told me “I’ve never been a champion, but I’m drawing a manga about a champion”. He made me remember that indeed, writing about someone that you would never be able to become is one of the basics of fiction, and the real thrill of manga is that it allows you to do something like that. I did have this strong feeling that I wanted to show people how interesting figure skating is, and since there are so many fascinating athletes even in real life I thought that if I was going to create something I would have liked to come up with anime characters that would also feel fascinating. I came to the conclusion that “I would never be able to do that alone, but maybe together with director Yamamoto it will be possible to work it out”. Therefore I accepted her offer.

—Would you have avoided this theme if it were a manga serialization that you had to draw alone? No matter how much I love figure skating, I don’t think I would have done it alone. There’s an implicit rule in manga serializations, if they are popular they will go on forever, if they’re not popular they will be cut short, so I definitely wouldn’t be able to do it. You have to develop the story so that it’s always interesting while you have no idea whenever it will end, and at the same time you have to finish it neatly right away if they tell you to end it. It’s quite a feat if you think about it (LOL). Of course there are many mangaka that can do it just fine, so if you tell me “that’s because you’re not good enough” I won’t deny it (LOL).

—This time the story wasn’t made into a manga but into a 12 episodes long anime. Did it feel different? It almost never happened to me to create a story whose length was already decided from the start, so it felt new. Also, if you are doing a manga serialization you can still adjust the course of the story based on the response from the readers or reflect other people’s opinions in it even after you have started it, but in this case when episode 1 aired my job was basically over already, so I couldn’t receive any feedback from the audience while I was creating the story and I felt a kind of pressure I had never experienced before. However, the method of deciding the ending first and then directing the story so that it would get more and more exciting until the final climax is something that I think was worth trying at least once as a mangaka, so I enjoyed that aspect.

—How did you create the plot and the characters, which are the core of the story? The foundation of the plot is something that director Yamamoto already had in her mind when I first met her. The basic concept of a Japanese athlete as the protagonist, a foreign top skater that becomes his coach and the two participating in the Grand Prix Final hasn’t changed from the start. From that concept we decided the events and matches to show in every episode, and the conclusion where Yuuri ultimately cannot get the gold medal. These are all things that were fixed at an early stage. Regarding the detailed course of events in every episode, it wasn’t always the same. Sometimes we would discuss it together, and sometimes one of us would come up with a draft proposal and we would adjust it. There are editors who have a talent for creating stories, and it felt to me like I was working with that kind of person. Anyway, the scenario, including all the dialogues, was created by me and director Yamamoto.

—Didn’t you feel anxious that it was only the two of you creating the story? We dissipated any concerns by assuring each other that it was interesting (LOL). Also, when I think that something is interesting, usually I’m right. I don’t mean to say that I have a special talent, on the contrary it’s because I’m an ordinary person with ordinary sensibility that many people sympathize with me. I know this from experience, therefore I wasn’t really worried.

—I heard that your storyboard for all 12 episodes was about 900 pages long. Yes, it was more or less that. It took me a little more than a year, so considering the working pace I think I was actually pretty slow.

—Is there something you had a hard time with when you created the storyboard? In every episode, especially in the early part, I had trouble fitting the characters into the story. I drew about 10 pages but it felt really incoherent, so I had to draw it again from the start. That happened over and over. The story was already decided, therefore I couldn’t change it a lot. I mostly changed the situation or dialogues, and tried again until it felt right.

—It felt innovative that the story becomes completely focused on the tournaments as it progresses, and at the same time it was also very fascinating. Director Yamamoto really wanted to show until the Grand Prix Final, so the structure of the episodes naturally became like that. Also, I didn’t want to portray the other athletes like side characters that are obviously going to lose, therefore I tried to create a story where all characters would get their highlights. On top of that, the director was towing the series with overwhelming power, surprising everyone by saying things like “all songs must be newly-written” and “let’s use an orchestra to create the music”. Looking at her I thought I had to do my best too and so I tenaciously strived to incorporate all elements into my storyboard without making compromises.

—How did it feel to see your storyboard become an anime and not a manga? It’s not like I don’t think I’m one of the creators, but it felt more like I was simply “one member of the anime staff”, so in a way I was more worried that my storyboard would get in their way. I put my heart and soul into that storyboard, but I didn’t necessarily want them to do everything exactly like it, I was happier knowing that it could become a nice base on which to build the anime. It’s also the first time that I had someone else work on my drawings, but actually my drawing style has lots of lines, so it’s not really suitable for an anime. The most important thing was that the viewers would think the anime pictures were the best, so I was focused on watching the new fascinating style used in the anime and didn’t really care whether my art style would be maintained or not. Starting from the chief animation director (Tadashi) Hiramatsu-san, I completely trust the anime staff, so I told them to change anything they needed to make the art easier to animate. As a result, in some cases the characters’ expressions changed from the storyboard, and in other cases they were just the same translated into animation, but as a whole the pictures were improved compared to the storyboard and I’m really satisfied with the result.

—You also went location hunting to write the storyboard, right? Yes. We went to China, Russia and Barcelona in Spain to watch actual figure skating tournaments.

—Did physically going to arenas and getting a deeper knowledge of figure skating influence the storyboard? We couldn’t directly speak to the athletes in tournaments, therefore to recreate their feelings and thoughts in fiction we had to put together the pieces from the outside. We were planning to create a story centered around the bond of an athlete and their coach, in other words Yuuri and Victor, but before going location hunting we didn’t really have a clear image of that in our minds. If you put too much focus on expressing the bond people will say “it’s just a fantasy created by the mind of a woman, isn’t it?”. In fact, when I wrote “Moteki”, there were people saying “this manga doesn’t understand a man’s heart at all”, and at the same time I also received many comments like “how is it possible that a female writer understands the feelings of a virgin guy?”, but in the end there are no limitations as to how a person can interpret a work, therefore the only correct thing a creator can do is release their work into the world with a strong resolve. Either way, I thought that if I didn’t draw “Yuri on Ice” with very strong feelings I would lose my way, but I had a hard time deciding what would be the core of these strong feelings.

—I see. At that time, a certain athlete said “I can skate for love”. In their case, “love” was probably referring to their lover, and they meant to say that even if they are apart they can do their best thinking about that person and this also helps them achieve good results, but when we heard this director Yamamoto and I felt shocked like we had been struck by lightning. We realized that indeed, in real figure skating many athletes express an overwhelming love and sensuality on the ice. I myself had never drawn a story about someone doing their best for love in such a straightforward way, but I thought that if I had to try my hand at it this series was the perfect chance. It’s a theme that can be dealt with in the sport of figure skating, and also it’s pretty classic to connect sport and love in fiction. Yuuri Katsuki doesn’t skate for his own love, but to prove all kinds of love, including Victor, and when as a result his strong desire for a gold medal was added to it, I had the feeling that this series had finally found its powerful core. I believed that any kind of love representation, if crafted with the utmost care, would feel interesting to the viewers. What was important to me and director Yamamoto was not “who to deliver this work to”, but to create a solid work that would “be able to reach as far as possible”, and one of the elements that contributed to make it strong was the representation of the bond called “love”.

—That is also something that is reflected in the characters’ personalities and dialogues. I wanted to depict the athletes’ nature, their passion and dedication, with care. That’s why I decided to use lots of strong dialogues that are like a punch in the face, and surprise the viewers with their facial expressions and the situations. I did my best to pour my personal style into these parts, while of course being careful not to spoil the main story line.

—At the same time, the skating scenes are really realistic and contain almost no fictional elements. I left the skating scenes to the animators who are in charge of them, trusting that they would be able to make them convincing. I was really pleased to see the final result, because they were able to create amazing scenes with the characteristic taste of an anime, so even if the story is fiction they took a very serious approach to it.

—I see. Who was the hardest character to write? I had a hard time drawing the relationship between Yuuri and Yurio. Especially Yurio, I think he’s easy to grasp as a character and I was sure he would become popular, but for the same reason it was difficult to make him unpredictable. I wanted to depict him and Yuuri as rivals, however figure skating is mostly a battle against yourself, a sport where you fight to pursue your personal best, and after their direct confrontation in episode 3 they also become physically separated, so I was careful about the balance when making them think of each other.

—Yuuri and Yurio had a kind of relationship that made it difficult to tell exactly whether they were getting along or not. We had already decided from the start that Yurio would hinder Yuuri’s victory in the Grand Prix Final, therefore I had to think about how to develop their relationship in a convincing way, so that the viewers would also feel a catharsis in that moment. When portraying rivals it’s important not to fall into stereotypes, that’s why I created the stir over Victor, Otabek and Yurio becoming friends in episode 10, and so on. It was for the purpose of reinforcing the fated connection between Yuuri and Yurio, and to consequently cause the viewers to want to cheer on Yuuri in the Grand Prix Final. However, at the same time the bond between Yuuri and Victor became deeper and deeper, and as I couldn’t really find enough place to put the spotlight on the rivarly with Yurio eventually Yurio stopped moving inside my storyboard, to my surprise. In that sense, I had to struggle to depict Yuuri and Yurio’s relationship until the end.

—Still, Yurio’s lines were all powerful, and I think he really stood out as a character. How did you create those memorable lines such as “I’ll make you into a borscht in Moscow” and “there are no gold medals for pigs!!”? Just naturally (LOL). Sometimes lines are born because the story requires them, and some other times a line a character would totally say eventually connects to the story, so it doesn’t really feel like I came up with all the lines myself. Ideally I was aiming to create lines that people will want to say right away the day after the episode is broadcasted, that they will want to say out loud. It’s not just about Yurio of course, but since voice actors were going to read the lines out loud it was a good occasion to throw in lots of strong dialogues (LOL).

—The bond between Yuuri and Victor became more and more extreme by the end of the series. Yuuri is just calling it “love” because of what he wants to express, without being afraid of the values arbitrarily decided by others, but I decided to go ahead and use any kind of representation if it was required by the story, without reserve. I believed that the buildup of such a relationship would lead to a special ending, I actually hadn’t envisioned their relationship from the start. In the end the bond between them became extremely deep, and I myself was surprised.

—The scene of the rings in episode 10 was the most outstanding example, it was quite shocking. Considering what you just said, was that also the course of events? It wasn’t the course of events, it was necessary! At least, when I was writing the storyboard that’s what I thought, and I wrote it seriously. I had really been wanting to draw the scene of Yuuri and Victor’s reunion at Fukuoka airport, and at that time neither me nor director Yamamoto actually had in mind to drop any bombshells in episode 10 or 11. However, episode 10 was the last “break” before the Grand Prix Final, and as we were thinking about what to put in it to make it an absolutely enjoyable episode, we also wondered whether it was possible to further deepen their bond too. Since we had already done hugs and scenes like in dramatic TV serials* we thought we couldn’t go it any farther, but then I suddently thought that they might want an item for support when facing the Grand Prix Final. When I tried browsing the websites of ring brands I found out that engagement rings aren’t necessarily something for people who get married, but that they can be given as presents to soulmates too. And I thought, “this is it!”. Besides, looking through the material we gathered during location hunting in Barcelona I found pictures of a church with a choir, so I was like “this is the place!”. [*translator’s note: In Japanese she says “scenes like in a getsuku drama”. “Getsuku” (月9) are serial TV dramas broadcasted on Fuji TV on Monday at 9 pm, hence “getsuku” which means “Monday 9”. Especially until a few years ago they used to be very popular, you might have heard the titles of some of the most known ones like “HERO” and “Long Vacation”, both starring Takuya Kimura. They mostly center around or include love stories, but not necessarily, and they tend to have lots of dramatic twists, so sometimes people will refer to dramatic or tense scenes in other works as “getsuku” because they remind of the typical developments of these dramas. In YOI I would say she is referring to either the scene in the parking in ep.7 or the one at Fukuoka airport in ep.9.]

—It’s like everything connected naturally, as if it was meant to happen. It was a period where I was at my wits’ end, but I drew this part all in one go. It was before the anime started, so I didn’t know what kind of response the anime would get and how this would be interpreted. Even if someone said “this makes no sense!” I wouldn’t have cared (LOL).

—As a result, the viewers were ecstatic. If it were a manga I think that scene would have actually looked much lighter and less important, but I was positively impressed to see how much impact it could have when in an anime.

—Still, the response from the public got more and more terrific with each episode. What surprised me the most after the end of the series is that my father was actually watching it. He has never read any of my manga except for the 4-koma ones, yet he was watching “Yuri on Ice”. He said “at the beginning I felt a little sick*, but I watched it until the end. Will you make a sequel?” (LOL). I was moved thinking that my father, a 70 years old Kyushu man, managed to overcome nausea and was able to enjoy the anime. Anyway, this series received response from such a wide range of people, something that could not possibly happen in my life as a mangaka. I feel a lot of fervor coming from both the positive and the negative opinions. [*translator’s note: It’s a bit vague, but based on how it’s worded I think they are referring to motion sickness probably caused by the skating scenes.]

—When did you start realizing that you were receiving a huge response? I’d say from around episode 5, when the real tournaments started. I was a bit tense because in manga it happens often that people will say the everyday life parts are more interesting than the competition scenes, but I was very happy to see that in fact we were getting more response after the tournament started. Also, after episode 7 I realized it so clearly that I even began to think “this is reaching too many people”. On Twitter I saw lots of comments like “I cried so much I feel sick” and I thought “people’s autonomic nerves are going crazy” (LOL).

—Now that the series is over and you are probably less burdened by work, how do you feel looking back on “Yuri on Ice”? More than the sense of fulfillment for being able to express what I wanted to draw, I feel so undescribably happy that I could help director Yamamoto build the world she wanted to create. I was contacted about this series right after I finished my serialization of “Again!!”, and it was a time when I was thinking about what kind of manga to draw next and my mind was completely blank. Like Victor in episode 1, I couldn’t feel any motivation to start my next work and I wasn’t able to come up with any idea. Just at that time I met director Yamamoto and I was able to deal with things I had been avoiding, like the theme of “doing something for love” and “a series about a sport I had no experience in”, and I was able to reach a level that I could never have reached alone. However, due to my nature, I absolutely don’t think that “now that I gained this experience, I will use it as a weapon to draw lots of interesting manga!” (LOL). I can see myself worrying about lots of things again the next time I sit at a desk, but still, I believe that I earned something thanks to this series. I feel that even if you leave your area of expertise, if you have the sensitivity to find something interesting and enough luck, you can create something that other people will sympathize with, and I also think that getting away from my usual work of manga serializations helped me notice many new things.

—So, did it help you gain more confidence? It’s not that simple (LOL). If you become too sensible you will lose your ego as a mangaka and the works you create might actually become boring. Sometimes I think that to write manga you need to become like a rabid dog. There are surely many things I earned working in the production of an anime, but whether I can put them to good use in my manga is another story, and at this moment I still can’t tell.

—I see. Lastly, many people are hoping for a sequel to “Yuri on Ice”. Could you tell us your current plans and whether you have a desire to continue? Even between me and director Yamamoto, we still haven’t discussed about it concretely. Besides, we cannot create an anime alone, and we do not know whether the important anime staff will have their schedules free. But we cannot move forward until we create something that will allow us to say “we have come up with this sequel, please follow us”, therefore, as one of the main creators, the first thing I want to do is conceive an interesting sequel. Actually, I’ll be going on a trip abroad with director Yamamoto soon. It has nothing to do with location hunting for a sequel, but like when we first discussed about “Yuri on Ice”, I hope that we can start to gather the external pieces while talking about figure skating every day. I think that the characters are out there somewhere, waiting for a chance to move again, and we are going on a trip to look for them. I hope we can find them.

[encchantress]

so this guide is going to be a very very basic overview of what it’s like to WORK AT DISNEY WORLD (pt. 1)! i have a somewhat in depth knowledge of the process and what it’s actually like to be working there because i worked there doing the college program for 5 months. this will be a v v basic overview though and maybe if i feel like it, i’ll do a college program version as well, but here it is!! please like or reblog if you found this helpful!!

AFTER YOU’RE HIRED!

i only know about how you get hired via the disney college program so i’m going to gloss over that, though i will say that for the dcp you apply online, have a web interview, then a phone interview and then you find out whether or not you join the cast!!

CASTING!!!! i know for the dcp we didn’t know what role we had and what location we were going to be at until we got there, but i can’t speak for normal disney cast members. all i know is that no matter what you’ll end up at the casting building at downtown disney to get your assignment and scan fingerprints and all that!!

TRADITIONS!!!! god i’m so lit just thinking about it. traditions is the day that you’re called in to learn all about the history of disney and hear a bunch of stories about how disney has touched the lives of so many. it’s business casual, and disney is VERY strict about this. i watched a girl take off her lipstick bc a cast member told her it was too bright. basically you go to disney university and you get told a bunch of heart-warming stuff, you do some trivia and earn some figurines if you answer correctly, and there’s a box sitting in the middle of your table the whole time which you aren’t allowed to open until the end. they take you to magic kingdom and they have you wear these headsets that don’t rly work and they take you backstage through the tunnels and up into some part of magic and you just like observe what’s going on and you learn about some of the neato things you only get to learn as a cast member. then you go back to Disney University and mickey mouse himself comes to give you your name tag. of course, at the end, you get to open the box and there’s your very own pair of mickey ears waiting inside. it’s honestly life changing. 

okay, so after you have to go through this thing called operations. basically you go to DU and you’re split up into groups based on your role. your roles include:

food and beverage (quick service or full service)

retail (bibbidi bobbidi boutique/floral/merchandise/vacation planner)

entertainment (character performer/character attendant/costuming)

lodging (bell services/front desk/housekeeper)

recreation (children’s activities/lifeguard/recreation attractions)

operations (attractions/custodial/photopass)

and basically what you do in ops is you spend a full day taking a bunch of internet quizzes about personal safety, osha standards, and how to handle situations like unattended suspicious bags and lost children (although at disney they don’t say they’re lost children they say they have lost parents)

i’m gonna be honest, it’s real boring. like 90% of my day was spent trying not to fall asleep. but something else important to disney that you learn during ops are THE FOUR KEYS! The Four Keys are how Disney moderates how they’re doing as a business. The Four Keys are as followed:

SAFETY

COURTESY

EFFICIENCY

SHOW

you will get tested on these often. 

**quick note about safety. disney’s slogan for being safe while on property is “SAFE-D BEGINS WITH ME!” every cast member makes so many dick jokes using that phrase. please do it it’s so funny.**

then once you’re done with ops you’re typically sent for costuming which i’ll get into a little bit later probably bc there’s not rly that much to say on it right now other than like, just do a quick google to find out what your character will be wearing for wherever they work.

STARTING WORK!

so depending on which park you’re assigned to work (note: you will not park hop unless you’re deployed or you pick up shifts. pick one park and stick to it.) you have an orientation day. each park has a cutesy name for it 

DAKlimation (disney’s animal kingdom)

once upon a time (magic kingdom)

discovery day (epcot)

on with the show (hollywood studios)

this is basically a full day of walking around the parks, learning some of the secrets behind the theming and getting accustomed to the backstage areas. you also might ride a ride if you’re lucky (we rode kilimanjaro safaris at DAK). then you’ll start your on the job training. this can range from a week to two weeks depending and at the end of training you are tested on your knowledge of all the skills you learned during training. ((if anyone is interested in lifeguarding or quick service specifically pls don’t hesitate to ask!)) and through all this training you get to wear a cute little “earning my ears” sticker on your name tag!!

ROLES!!

honestly you can do a quick google about any of the roles above, but pls feel free to ask me questions too bc i know a lot about qsfb, lifeguarding, merch and character performer especially. i’m just going to highlight some common misconceptions (imo) below.

character performer: OKAY SO THIS IS WHERE I GET REAL NITPICKY!!! this paragraph is gonna be long so settle in. to be a character performer YOU HAVE TO GO TO AN AUDITION. and let me tell you, it is not easy. it is very likely that if you are a character performer you have auditioned a very good number of times bc disney is so specific in what they’re looking for. and character performer isn’t just someone in a costume or a lookalike. it extends to parades, shows, and even street performers like the citizens of hollywood in hollywood studios. 

there are a few different types of auditions too. they have character performer auditions where they are just generally looking for performers, but they can pull you aside for lookalikes. in character performer auditions you do a parade dance that increases in difficulty the further you go along if you haven’t been cut. in lookalike auditions you literally go into a room in groups of 50 and smile at a man for like 5 seconds and then they cut based off of that. ((if anyone wants a more detailed guide on this i can do it bc i have auditioned for disney 5 times doing both kinds of auditions))

height ranges!!!! this is also a huge thing for me bc some of yall stay trying to play like a 5′7″ bitch as tinkerbell. disney is usually pretty good about sticking to particular height rangers for costumed and face characters. 

most princesses are within the 5′4″-5′7″ range. alice and wendy are usually between 4′10″-5′2″. most costumed characters with the exclusion of most villains and goofy are between 4′11″-5′4″. 5′4″ is definitely at the v top of the height range though and might be pushing it tbh. these are all based on what i know to be true myself having met a shit ton of princesses and character performers, but there are deviants for sure. basically don’t use taylor swift as an fc for alice. cool??? cool.

quick service food and beverage: once you’re in a restaurant you typically stay there. although qsfb can also extend to outdoor vending (odv) in which case you would rotate from cart to cart (they’re the ones that sell the mickey bars and pretzels n shit), but if you work in a restaurant you typically don’t switch between that and odv. 

WORLD SHOWCASE @ EPCOT: if you’re in the world showcase, the people that work in the different countries are usually authentically from there. it would be very, very rare to have a white/european person working at one of the restaurants in mexico. i’ve honestly never met someone who wasn’t from their assigned country that worked there. i’m speaking specifically about the world showcase and not any other part of epcot. many world showcase cast members are part of the cultural representative program which means they come for 12 months and they work in either the world showcase in epcot, animal kingdom, animal kingdom lodge, or international guest relations/greeter roles. basically, if you’re gonna have your character work in a world showcase pavilion, make them from that country pls. 

attractions: if you work attractions, you are most likely not just working at one ride for your entire life. for example: in adventureland in magic kingdom, those attractions workers work aladdin’s magic carpet ride, the enchanted tiki room, swiss family robinson treehouse and anything else in the area. basically if a land or a certain area within the park has the same costume, you’re working all of it so i’d familiarize yourself with just how many attractions your character might be working. 

**quick note again: not every job is within a disney park. you may get a job at disney springs, water parks, or resorts!!!**

WORK THINGS!!!

when you’re working, disney has you on a strict points system. if you’re late to work, they dock you half a point. if you miss your shift/call out, they dock you a point. if you get 3 points within 30 days you get what’s called a reprimand. and this is not good my friends. you get 3 reprimands within 3 months and you’re out. like out out. like turn in your blue card and get out. you can get authorized days off or (ADO’s) but you have to request off like crazy early or get someone to take your shift. 

ahh!!! blue cards!!!! your blue card, or blue ID, is what identifies you as a cast member at disney. it’s also what you flash to bypass paying for parking, and it’s what gets you through the gates to get you backstage at disney. you don’t have it, you’re fucked basically. blue IDs also get you discounts on merchandise and food at some QSFB restaurants.

MAIN GATES!!!! your key to the kingdom!!! your maingate is your entry pass to all the parks. it serves as a park hopper. you also get 3 guest passes which, depending on if you’re a cp, part time or full time has so many passes on it for whomever you wish to bring with you into the parks. 

you answer to two people while you work at disney. your coordinators and your leaders. your coordinators are out on stage with you and there’s usually like 2-4 of them depending on how large your location is. they’re who you ask for help in a pinch. your leaders are like your managers. they give you a briefing in the morning before you open, they make tough calls, and they have to ability to smooth over almost any situation effortlessly. if you have a reeeeally angry guest, you better call ur leader. 

when you’re not on stage, you are backstage. i literally cannot stress this enough. if you’re on break you should not be seen or heard. there are break rooms for every section of each park and if you’re not on your feet, you’re back there. they’re not nice. they’re small, crowded, and usually smell. there are larger cafeterias within every park though (at DAK ours was called PRIDE ROCK) but they’re usually quite a walk depending on where you work.

BREAKS!!! if you’re working at disney that means you’re typically spending 6+ hours on your feet and however long your shift is is how long your break is. 6 hour shift?? you’ve probably got one 15 min break. 8 hours?? prolly one 30 min. break. 10 hours??? that’s when you get the hour long break.  oh also that 10 hour shift you were scheduled for?? it just turned into a 13 hour shift thanks to a force extend. you’re welcome. but you’re in luck!!! sometimes you get an early release or an ER!!! that’s when they don’t need you so they’re like fuck it go home. 

oh also everything is in military time.

GLOSSARY (terms cast members use a lot)

cast members - if you work for the walt disney company you are a cast member, not an employee 

DU - disney university (yes it exists and it’s fuckin baller on the inside)

company d - this is a store inside disney university. it’s where you can get exclusive cast merch and also you can buy your discounted party tickets there

cast connections - ok this is honestly disney’s best kept secret. cast connections is this huge store where u can buy so much shit for like 75% off. they even have a small grocery section where everything is hella cheap. you have to be cast to buy shit.

costuming - where you go to get your costumes duh. there’s one at every park, but magic kingdom’s is at west clock.

west clock - ok so basically not all mk cast is allowed to park in the parking lot like at other parks so there’s this thing called west clock that has a huge parking lot and it’s where disney university and magic king costuming is. you go to west clock and then take a bus to get to magic.

tunnels/utilidor - backstage at MK consists of the utilidors or tunnels as they’re often called. MK is the only park with tunnels and they’re fuckin extensive. there are colored lines on the walls that can direct you to where you need to go, but it’s still confusing as hell.

qsfb/fsfb - quick service/full service food and beverage

merch - merchandise

odv - outdoor vending

stands west/stands east - a variation of working merchandise in the parks. you work at the small stands instead of the shops

four keys card - if a fellow cast member or guest thinks you’ve successfully exemplified the four keys, they give you a four keys card. this is for recognition and it also takes a point off of your record.

MK - magic kingdom

DAK - disney’s animal kingdom

DHS - disney’s hollywood studios

CP - college program

ER - early release

force extend - when they fucking extend your shift without asking u

ADO - authorized day off

deployed - sometimes you get asked to work in a different park for a few days or weeks, they call this being deployed.

on stage - when you’re on the job in front of guests

backstage - the areas where you can’t be seen by guests

guests - not customers, guests.

honestly there’s probably so much more i need to cover, but that’s just a lil taste of what it’s like to work at disney. i might add onto this later or just make a second guide. if you have any questions about anything specific, the disney college program, qsfb or animal kingdom rly let me know bc i know the most about those things, but i’m knowledgeable in A LOT of other stuff too. 

[mirjahcreative]

Greed - V x OC Rin - Ch 1: Attraction Growing

What happened after Fresh New Start, you ask? A long wait, that's what... But what happens when a noble competitor appears - as a potential threat to Jihyun's newly-found relationship with Rin? Is there enough spark inside the gentle artist to defend his happiness?

The character V Jihyun Kim belongs to Cheritz. The character Rin Alford belongs to Thirst Mom.

All rights reserved. This fanfiction is R-rated and therefore under the cut. Please refrain from reading, commenting, and reblogging if you are a minor. Do not repost my work, thank you.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it, and would love it if you'll leave a comment of your thoughts!

Psychology Tomorrow Online:

‘-- Jealousy strikes both men and women and is most typically aroused when a person perceives a threat to a valued relationship from a third party. The threat may be real or perceived. --’

‘-- Although jealousy is a painful emotional experience, evolutionary psychologists regard it not as an emotion to be suppressed but as one to heed—it is a signal, a wake-up call, that a valued relationship is in danger and steps need to be taken to regain the affection of one's mate or friend. In this regard, jealousy is a necessary emotion because it preserves social bonds. It motivates people to engage in behaviors that maintain an important relationship. --’

   The photographer and artist had always been interested in people, but after his engagement ended in a tragedy due to complex issues, he had picked a more enthusiastic approach to behavioral psychology. Jihyun had never really been jealous and reading the online article on the topic, he entertained the thought of how he’d behave in that state, for a fleeting moment.

What if his loved one would attract other suitors? Luckily he had little reason to be jealous since his relationship with his girlfriend was good and she was no flirt toward other guys. Them meeting and ending up together had been perhaps the most improbable thing to happen to him. And her as well, Jihyun imagined. However, Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Liberty, had now been his girlfriend for well over two months. Just as he thought of her, his phone rang and the caller ID showed the photo of a pretty young woman with glasses, emerald eyes, and raven black, long hair. He answered the phone delighted to hear from her, greeting her warmly and asking how her day was.

   Rin Alford had been swamped in work and, therefore, not able to see her boyfriend in a while. They hadn’t even talked over the phone as often as they were accustomed to, so she missed him. Jihyun’s soft speech carried from her phone and made her sigh contently. The man had such a pleasant voice, one she was sure she’d never get sick of hearing. Sitting at her huge, old oak desk, the young lady smiled widely to herself. “Good evening, Jihyun. I’m superb now, that I get to speak with you!” Rin said, surprising even herself with how excited she sounded just after hearing his voice. “What about you, how are you and what were you doing now?”

   The enthusiasm in his girlfriend’s voice made Jihyun smile and a warm joy spread in his chest with her words. Jihyun explained what the article that caught his eye was about. “My week has been pretty much normal, though I’ve been missing you more than usual…” he said, not even wanting to resist the temptation to tease Rin just a bit. A bright and heartfelt giggle escaped her. “Oh, don’t you dare make me feel bad for doing my duty~!”

   Rin actually called to let him know one of the reasons she’d been so busy lately. The Embassy of Liberty in Seoul would be hosting a black tie ball and she told Jihyun that she would be the official representative of the King of Liberty. He was invited, too, for his renown art. Finally, she got to the topic that was difficult for her. “I’m afraid I can’t bring you as my official plus one since I haven’t introduced you to my parents yet. That being said, I would very much like for you to be there with me.” The princess waited with bated breath for Jihyun to answer, hoping that he wouldn’t be offended.

   Sometimes Rin's position just made things complicated. She’d been seeing Jihyun a short time, not wanting to announce it to her family just yet. Not that she didn’t want them to know Jihyun, on the contrary. She simply enjoyed their "commoner's intimacy” immensely and was reluctant to let go of their own little bubble of happiness. Naturally, Rin was aware that Jihyun had told his friends that he was seeing someone. He’d made it clear to them from the start, though, that he wasn’t going to tell them who the mystery woman was until she would introduce herself to them. “Darling, I understand your role requires discretion and distance between us on such occasions. You don’t need to worry. I would love to be there to support you, be it even from behind the scenes,” Jihyun said to her, his encouragement and devotion apparent in his voice. “When is the ball?” Rin let out the breath she’d been holding.

~~~~~

   The month leading to the formal flew by in a flash. They’d spent time together, and called and texted as usual. However, they’d carefully tiptoed - more or less intentionally - around the topic of the inexplicable, uncharacteristic frenzy that had possessed them both the day they’d met. Something about the whole occurrence had left them equally surprised, confused, and still - first and foremost - happy to have found each other. The flustering incident had left its mark on the couple: they had shied away from too intimate a situation ever since, for three months now. Both, oblivious to the other, thinking the same thing, were uncertain of how they might act - and worse yet if they would lose control as they did before.

   Now that the ball night was at hand, the best makeup artist in South-Korea had been flown to aid Rin, as well as an award-winning hairdresser. Despite her disdain towards fussing over her appearance, she allowed the beauty professionals to ‘go all out’ on her, as they had stated. The man in charge of Rin’s makeup was in his mid-twenties, a guy with a very kpop haircut and eyeliner. His attire was on the flashier side, screaming that he didn’t work at an office job. Even though his stereotypical mannerisms - almost feminine, like many males in the industry - led to believe he was homosexual, the man started at some point to throw more heated looks and flirty comments at Rin.

   Finally, after hours of meticulous blow-drying, priming, painting, powdering, and combing, she was ready. Princess Rin stood at the doorway waiting for her ride with her personal security detail close by. The princess kept her demeanor cool and collected while the beauticians were still there, positively ticked by the makeup artist acting so inappropriately toward her. Only the unspoken conversation, done by exchanging pointed glances with her bodyguard during it all, had kept Rin from throwing the flippant makeup man to the wall. She had been fairly sure he was gay the moment he stepped in, but the change in his behavior over the task had confused Rin. Now that she had an idle moment to herself, she thought back and got even more flustered, remembering the pretty young hair stylist girl blushing excessively while doing her hair.

   Butterflies flocked in Rin’s belly as she stepped through the door, after the area and their vehicle had been deemed safe by the security team. This was going to be the first time she would meet Jihyun at a more formal setting, far from their usual way of spending time together, and Rin in her royal capacity. Not to mention, him being one of the guests of honor, invited by the express request from the King of Liberty. When Rin had noticed on the guest list the artist ‘V’, photographer, painter, and co-founder of the small but renowned charity organization, the RFA, she’d actually struggled in maintaining her calm and collected demeanor - for the first time ever.

   Rin arrived at the embassy and was greeted by the ambassador and her spouse, along with the other people that helped host the ball. When it was time, Rin walked down the stairs to take her spot in the hall to greet the guests, only moments before the heavy doors to the ballroom and the main entrance were opened. As the guests entered the grand embassy building, they were greeted with the breathtaking sight of Her Royal Highness in her most dazzling public appearance yet. Beside her natural-born regal aura, the ambassadors and aristocrats paled in comparison.

   Even though Jihyun had attended countless black tie - and white tie - functions, this was the first of the royal kind for him. The woman who made him feel whole and treasured, too, just happened to be a monarch. So, here he was, in the lobby of the Embassy of Liberty in Seoul. The man’s exceptional, pastel blue hair swayed in rhythm to his feline-like smooth gait, as he sauntered in. Leaving his coat to the servant, he offered a gentle smile that reached his dreamy eyes and invited one’s gaze to his handsome, delicate face. His tall, lean figure in the line to greet the hostess of the evening was sure to turn heads. Which seemed to be common these days, Jihyun thought to himself, still flustered by the attention he’d gotten lately. It seemed that people had taken notice of him instead of his work ever since he’d met Rin. First, he’d figured it had to do with him being happier and more content in his life than before. The past few days, however, had been frankly ridiculous.

As the man stepped toward Rin, those thoughts were, however, forgotten. Jihyun was about to see her for the first time in well over two weeks, so he was queasy, to say the least. He finally laid his eyes on the black-haired beauty - and it was with great difficulty that he managed to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. The woman’s style was unlike he had ever seen her, even in the photos online, when he’d checked out what the media said about his girlfriend. It brought forth her best features.

   Rin’s long, almost blueish-black hair was pulled back in a simple yet elegant half-up style with a single, real live white flower adorning it. A few soft tendrils were left down to accompany her hime haircut on the sides. That practically pulled one's gaze to the long pillar of her neck, and up, over her plump, glossy lips, all the way to her intelligent, green eyes. The kind that seemed to look straight to one’s soul. She only ever wore contact lenses instead of her glasses in such occasions, and simply just to make her own life that much easier: it was inconvenient to have to push the frames back on her nose while dancing.

   Black layers of wide tulle hems spread around Rin’s petite frame, emphasizing her narrow waist. Her ivory back was left bare, apart from her hair falling over it in a black cascade. Jihyun had to bite his lip and clench his fists to keep his body from reacting as his eyes swept up along the dress. The man practically drank in the lowest dip of her neckline, cut in such a deep v that it reached all the way down to her midriff. That’s when he noticed the subtle shadows Rin’s round chest cast on her porcelain skin between the strips of fabric that formed the halter neck bodice. There was nothing he could do to prevent the heat rising on his face - and pooling lower on his body, too. Reminding himself to not call her Rin tonight - only Her Royal Highness -  Jihyun stepped forward, to formally introduce himself to the woman he loved.

   The monarchs of Liberty weren’t usually ones to show off their skin, but today was not a fully formal occasion - and Rin wanted to look her absolute best, knowing that Jihyun would be there, too. Greeting a distinguished guest after another, she kept her nerves under control. That was until she spotted Jihyun’s familiar form in the line. The man was a stunning sight, wearing his usual warm, slightly reserved, yet sincere smile - Shy? While discreetly undressing her with his eyes?! His slim-fitting, two-piece tuxedo suit showed off the photographer’s unexpectedly strong body, his wide shoulders, and slim waist. The crisp white tuxedo shirt was adorned with emerald cufflinks, his top button was open and he’d opted to leave out the bowtie - as was acceptable from an artist. Jihyun’s relaxed chic look was impeccable on him and the man would not have gone unnoticed, even by the blind. Most certainly not by Rin.

   Just seeing Jihyun made the rest of the crowd disappear for the princess. When his heated gaze met her green orbs, there were a few more people in the line before him.  Her Royal Highness, Princess of Liberty felt shivers run all over her body and heat rise within her body before they’d even touched. When Jihyun, or V, as she was to address him today, took the hand the princess offered in greeting, the electric current between them was almost strong enough to make the lights in the hall flicker. His smooth, silken voice caressed Rin’s ears, making her imagine his lips on them, instead of just his words… She swallowed and licked her lips that suddenly felt dry. Her ivory soft hand in his had V picturing it travel across his arm, chest, and lower… He had to hold back a shudder and suck in a deep breath to regain his equilibrium. People next in line started to clear their throats awkwardly. The two had stretched the brief formal greeting a tad too long and V reluctantly let go of the princess. Quickly she pulled her hand back, cursing her duties as the hostess of this ball. It meant that she had to stay here and see all the guests before she could join them in the ballroom - and find V.

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[writingablank]

01.23.2018

I was talking to a dear friend last night about life and the struggles I’m sure many twenty-somethings face and at some point in the conversation, they mentioned I might enjoy blogging. So here I am. Back on Tumblr. Although it’s different this time around. I’ve chosen, at least for the time being, to remain anonymous. I have never been anonymous online before so this will be a completely new experience, which may be challenging at times considering I plan to write about my life, feelings, thoughts, struggles...all the intimate things one would write in a private journal, although I would like to leave this blog open to the public for several reasons. Maybe it will help someone. Inspire someone. Or maybe some may just find it interesting. Despite not having a Tumblr account in over 6 years, I do enjoy it. Its easy for me to use and I love to explore, reblog photos and posts that interest me, which I feel would add a nice touch to my written posts.

I do not intend to start off here with some lengthy introduction about myself. I kind of just want to jump into it, based on what’s going on in my life and in my head as I’m writing. I’m sure details of my life will piece together organically in the process. I enjoy writing whatever comes to my mind; its therapeutic and raw. I think this will be good for me.

So I’m currently sitting on my living room floor. I’ve pulled the coffee table closer to the TV screen, which is hooked up to the computer instead of a monitor. The keyboard is annoying to type with considering the awkward height it’s at, plus the keys are sticking. I leave for work in about 3 hours and I’ve decided to spend my alone time doing this, which is very unlike me. If there’s one thing I’m not good at, it’s relaxing. I struggle with feeling obligated to always be getting things done, particularly cleaning. Mess and clutter cause me a lot of distress. There are currently dishes on the counter and in the sink, some random papers have accumulated on top of the shelving unit in my living room. The garbage needs to be taken out. I should be doing laundry. I should be prepping something for dinner. But I’m not and I’m just going to have to be okay with that. One of the things I’ve set out to do this year is to be easier on myself, and allow myself the downtime I constantly decline despite the fact that I desperately need it to avoid burning myself out. What’s that saying... you can’t pour water from an empty cup? Something like that. 

This is a difficult time of year for me - January and February that is. The days are short and have been for a while, so by now I’m beyond over it. It’s overcast and dreary outside more often than not. It’s often cold and all of those things = me feeling tired and unmotivated. Don’t get me wrong; there are definitely things I don’t enjoy about the summer - the suffocating humidity, feeling obligated to be outside every single day for as long as possible, summer clothes. But I will take the sunshine alone over this shit any day. The positive effect that the sun has on my mood and energy level is profound. It can be a night and day difference in comparison to how I feel on an overcast day. It’s times like this that I desperately miss L.A. Although I was only there for a week a couple summers ago, I trusted the locals when they said a day without sunshine was a rare occurrence. Being in Hollywood was like being in a completely different world. It was magical and bizarre and visually stunning. It was so much fun and there was so many things I got to see and experience that simply don’t exist where I live. It was in LA where I developed my fascination with Scientology and how prevalent it is there. I’ve always enjoyed learning about religions, particularly cults, and it’s so interesting to me that Scientology, for example, is something that exists today, all over the world, in front of our very eyes...somehow. There is a Church of Scientology in my city, which honestly is a bit surprising to me. I don’t know ANYONE in this city, through countless degrees of separation who is a Scientologist and I’m curious to go there just to see whose inside. Someone would have to come with me as I’d be much too nervous to go myself. I did go in LA though, did the personality test and all that but I still want to see inside the org here in my city. 

Anywho,back to the present. I should wrap this up soon considering I still have to get ready for work, go to the store, make dinner...and then work all night. It’s not so bad though. I work tonight and tomorrow and then I’m off for 4 days, which is typically how my schedule works. Work a few days, off for a few days, repeat. It’s fine and I really don't mind my job at all. It’s just daunting at times to think about going considering I also work from home during the day, but once I get there it’s fine and it usually has a positive affect on my mood. It’s especially enjoyable when I get to work with certain fellow managers, although tonight is not one of those nights as far as I know! Oh well. 

I don’t have much else on my mind right now, besides the things I need to get done before work. Time is ticking so I’d better get going. I hate to be rushed. I’m excited about this blogging thing though, and I hope to keep up with it as much as possible. Daily would be preferable but we’ll see!