#definitely inspired by that one picture that keeps showing up on my Pinterest

[saintlevrant]

© JJBA'S GU1D0 M1ST4

[dazzlerwriting]

a long long time

jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader

pictures from pinterest!!

word count: 2.8k

summary: childhood best friends, who always felt a bit more about each other, finally see each other after 12 years. will all their wishes come true at the Seresin holiday party?

warnings: childhood best friends to lovers! fluff!! cheesy goodness!! no use of y/n but reader does uses she/her pronouns! pet names: sweets, sweetheart, darlin, tiny dancer. no looks are given besides an outfit!

an: this is heavily inspired by ‘Its been a long long time’ by harry james! definitely recommend listening to it while reading! can you guys tell i love when people dance together as a form of intimacy? thank you to my friends who have no clue who jake is, who proofread this. & thank you guys for all the love on my other two fics! this is incredibly new to me so to see that people like the stories is really amazing. thank you. likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated!!

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Growing up, Jake Seresin was always by your side. Jake’s mom and your mom were best friends, meaning the two of you were destined to be in each other’s lives. Of course, you two went through the phases of disgust when one of you thought the other had cooties, but they never deterred your friendship. When you would fall off your bike and cry because you scraped your knee, Jake would immediately be by your side. Jake’s PeeWee football games never had a silent crowd, of course not. Little you would be right there next to his parents, screaming the loudest for him. A dance recital, nervous about your performances? Don’t worry, Jake would be right there in the front row next to both of your families, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

High school hit, and Jake became the star football player who girls and guys alike pined after. You on the other hand were a quiet theater kid, dancing still, and leading the school newspaper. Despite running in different social circles, you two were still attached at the hip. The sharp stares you received from girls who wanted Jake would burn into your head, but you never let that affect your friendship. The free time you two had was spent with each other, taking long drives when you needed to clear your head, watching new episodes of TV shows you both enjoyed, and studying together. There has always been a hint of something more between you two, but out of fear of ruining things, you never made a move. Although, there was a time during your senior year when the possibility of being something more didn’t seem as distant. You two had just taken a long drive to a field in the middle of Texas to watch the sunset. It was then that you two shared your first kiss, and then it was over, and neither of you brought it back up. You knew you had feelings for him. That wasn’t even a question. But those feelings would not outweigh your friendship, you’d rather have him in this way, than in no way at all.

When Jake got into the Naval Academy, you were ecstatic for him. He had been dreaming about getting out of here since you were little tots, and now he had his out. You got into a school an hour away for Broadcast Journalism, and he was just as excited for you. When you told him, he picked you up and spun you around, both of you reminiscing on the days when he would play with his model planes and you would pretend to report every little thing that was happening around you two. Graduation day came and went, and soon you were getting ready to send Jake on his way to Maryland.

“Don’t forget me when you become a hot shot pilot mister.” You said to him with tears in your eyes. He looked back at you with something that could only be described as melancholy and kissed your forehead, “I could never forget you tiny dancer. Plus we can still keep up with each other, and I’ll see you over the holidays!”

You two kept up with each other for the first two years of your college time, but communication became scarce. He didn’t come home for the holidays, you couldn’t blame him though. He finally got out of there, he was doing what he always wanted to do. Communication between the two of you completely went away during your junior year. You’ve kept up with him through your parents and his, and to say you were proud was an understatement.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It’s been 12 years since you last saw Jake Seresin. You would be lying if you said you didn’t think about him a lot of the time. After you graduated from UT at Austin, you moved back home and started to work at the local news station as an Anchor. Your free time is spent with friends, going out to bars, or just brunch together. They always hound you about finding a guy, “Come on!! You’re single, hot, and an amazing person!” “You can’t just sit here all night, come meet Tyler, I promise you’ll like him! Please?” You knew they had good intentions, with their bright smiles and kind words. So you tried. You would go out with who they wanted you to, but every time, it felt as though something was missing. You knew what was missing, you just didn’t want to admit it. Seasons change but you don’t think your feelings for those

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The holiday season is always your favorite time of year. From October to January, you feel lighter. Walking around to see decorations everywhere, families laughing together, and hot apple cider to warm the now-cold Texas air. Work is busy, but you can’t complain, you love your job. Recently you covered a story about a baker and her husband who had just celebrated the 30th anniversary of their bakery by having the cutest reindeer cookies and a huge cake for everyone who may want a slice.

Tonight is the annual Seresin family Christmas party, and just like every other year, you hold on to hope that Jake will be there. You know it’s a stretch, but you can’t help but be hopeful.

You bought a new outfit just for tonight, a red cable knit sweater, a black mini-skirt with black transparent tights, and black leather boots that went up to your calves. After adding some touch-ups to your makeup, you decided you were ready to go, grabbed your purse, and headed towards the Seresin’s house. It was about a 5-minute walk from your new place, which is quite convenient, and you spent the entire walk with your head in the clouds, daydreaming about the pilot who stole your heart all those years ago.

Walking into the house you spent so much time at as a child, a sense of warmth feels you. The entire house smells like freshly baked cookies, Christmas lights twinkle along the hallway, and the sounds of laughter and soft Christmas music fills your ears. Mama Seresin sees you and you are immediately engulfed in a hug that could probably fix anybody who is on the receiving side of it. “Oh my goodness look at you!!! You get more beautiful each time I see you.” You felt your face heat up instantly, shying away a bit from her kind words. “Thank you mama Seresin. I’m happy to be here again, happy holidays.” She pulled back and had an incredulous look on her face.

“Thank me?? Sweetheart, you are welcome at this house any day, any time. Make yourself at home, tonight should be a wonderful night.” She winked at you and left you standing there in the entryway.

After making your rounds, you grabbed yourself a drink and sat on the couch watching “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” with one of Jake’s sisters. She kept looking over at you with a sly smirk on her face so you snapped, “What is going on with y’all tonight? First your mama winks at me, Elizabeth said she was ‘So excited’ for me tonight, and now you can’t stop looking at me like the cat who caught the canary! So what is going on?” With an exasperated look on your face, you fully turn to look at her. Charlotte just slides off the couch and smiles, “We’re just happy to see you and we are hoping you have a great time tonight.” With the cryptic answer said, she walks away leaving you to sit there in your skepticism.

After an hour or so, everyone has made it and dinner is about to be served. At least you thought everyone had made it, that is until you hear a knock on the door. Mama Seresin rushes to open it, and you lean over the arm of the couch to see who it is. You can’t tell if it's the winter air or who you see standing there, but a chill runs down your spine. In all his glory, Jake Seresin is standing there with several suitcases and a bright smile on his face. Taking him in, you notice he’s grown into himself in the last 12 years, His sandy blonde hair isn’t as long, he’s filling in the brown button-up shirt very nicely, and he’s grown at least 3 inches since you last saw him. He’s still got his cowboy boots on and a smile that could light up a room, so not everything has changed. Finally, you look back up to his face, and you lock eyes with the man who has never left your mind.

You stand, mouth agape, and the two of you finally make your way to each other. You meet in the middle of the entryway, and as soon as his arms are around you it’s like everybody and everything fades away. You stay there in the comfort of each other’s arms for a few more seconds and when you finally pull away, the sounds from the rest of the house fade back in. Looking at each other, you feel a warmth creeping up your neck, the chill from earlier has fully disappeared. “Hi,” you said with a shy smile as you fiddle with the cuff of his sleeve. “Hi sweetheart,” he replies with the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. The moment is broken when someone clears their throat behind you, “Dinner is ready.” You turn and see the Seresin women standing there with smirks across all of their faces. Looking back at Jake you realize he’s got a scowl on his face, and you just giggle a bit. At the sound of your giggle, he looks back at you, the scowl being replaced with a shy smile, “We can talk after dinner?” You nod your head and make your way toward the dining room.

Dinner is the most delicious thing, but you would never expect anything less from Mama Seresin. She always cooks things with love, which makes things 10,000 times better. Once you get turned away from helping with dishes, you make your way outside to get some air. It’s a bit chilly, the backyard is decorated with lights strung across the way, the music from inside the house carries softly across the yard although it’s muffled, and stars are shining so bright in the night sky. You see a plane fly across the sky and you huff out a laugh, realizing your dreams of seeing Jake again, came true tonight. At least you know why the family acted so odd tonight. You take a seat in one of the cushy chairs sat up in the backyard, and stare up at the sky.

Surely Jake didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight, Has he changed a lot? Did he miss you as much as you missed him? Was your pining so obvious to everyone that they sat this up? Your mind starts spiraling with thoughts, and a bit of nervous tension sets in as you sit out there. The music gets less muffled for a second, meaning someone has just opened the back door, but it’s quickly snuffed back out. You don’t bother to turn your head, your mind is busy with so many questions. In your peripheral, you see the man on your mind take a seat next to you. He looks up at the sky and you can feel the nervousness roll off of you both as you sit there.

You turn to look at him, right as he turns to look at you, and you both sit there taking each other in for a second. “So-” “It was-” You both start trying to talk simultaneously and once you realize, you both start giggling. You nod your head to tell him he can go first, and with a shy smile he rubs the back of his neck and says, “It was nice to see you again sweetheart, I was really hoping you’d be here.” That warmth from earlier creeps back up your neck, and you smile softly at him. “I was hoping you’d be here too cowboy.” You both just sit there with smiles, and after a few beats of silence you add quietly, “I missed you.” What you could only call longing, flashes in his eyes, before he smiles at you, “I missed you too tiny dancer.”

The two of you fall into easy conversation. He tells you all about the Naval Academy, and how he is the “best of the best,” which you don’t doubt. Once he sets his mind on something, he doesn’t give up. You learn he’s living out in San Diego, but he constantly misses the Texas skyline. You tell him all about your experience at UT at Austin, and how your job at the local news station is going. You both continue just telling each other what you’ve both missed out on.

At some point, the conversation shifts to relationships. You take a deep breath and ask, “So do you have anyone special waiting for you back in California?” He takes a minute to just look at you before responding, “No sweetheart, I don’t. Do you have anyone missing you tonight?” You let out your breath at the word “no,” and chuckle. “The only person missing me tonight is my fish, Mr. Speckle.” He throws back his head and barks out a laugh at that, before looking back at you with a wide smile. It shifts to a bit of an apprehensive smile before he asks, “Is there any reason? You’re a gorgeous girl who is amazing sweetheart, I’m sure guys are lining up for a date with you.”

You knew you could try and lie to him, but he knows you too well. He would immediately figure you out, so you shake your head and respond truthfully. “I’ve tried over the years. But every single time, it didn’t feel right. Something was always missing. It took me a while to realize what that was.”

“And what was that?” His face is a bit more hopeful now, or maybe you’re just going crazy. After a moment of just looking into his eyes, you turn to fidget with your sweater and finally speak. “They weren’t you Jake.” It came out softer than you thought it would. The silence surrounds you like a suffocating room, and panic starts to claw its way up your throat.

You’re about to apologize profusely when Jake finally speaks. “That’s why I don’t have anyone waiting for me sweets. They weren’t you. The gorgeous girl I’ve known since diapers, who has always been so caring. Who put others before herself. The girl who knows me and my family, and still chooses to be around us.” You stare at him with wide eyes, trying to absorb everything that was just said. Softly, you reply, “I will always choose you, Jake. The boy who didn’t let me go to bed upset. The boy who constantly cheered me on in everything I did. The boy who set his sights on something and chased it. ” Your chest feels lighter, while your heart beats at a lightspeed rate.

Looking at Jake, he has a boyish grin on his face, rubbing the back of his neck again. In the blink of an eye, he is in front of you with his hand held out. You look at him like you’re considering your options for a second, just to make him sweat a bit, but ultimately you take his hand with an affectionate smile. He pulls you close and wraps his arms around your waist, your arms going around his neck, playing with the collar of his shirt. The two of you dance to the muffled music coming from inside, under the twinkling lights of the backyard you’ve spent so much time in over the years. You look up at him to find him already staring at you. He’s got a look of love in his eyes, and you’re sure he sees the same look in yours.

“So can I take you out tomorrow sweetheart? I should’ve asked you that years ago.” He asks with a smirk across his lips. You mirror his smirk as you respond, “You sure can cowboy. We have a lot of time to make up for.” You both slowly lean in, and your lips meet in a short kiss that makes fireworks go off in your stomach. You both pull away, but that one kiss isn’t enough. The two of you share another short kiss, before breaking out into a long deep kiss. He dips you a bit with this one. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of has come true under the twinkling lights. You’ll have to make sure to send the Seresin women some cookies and flowers for planning this.

From inside the house, the Seresin family is silently cheering. They’ve watched both of you pine after each other for so long, they knew y’all just needed a bit of a push in the right direction.

[moralesluvr]

high maintenance gf x earth 42 miles and how he would literally spoil her sm!! and everytime she gets her hair, nails, etc done he always wants to see them #SoCute🤭

take care of my woman ft. miles morales

♡ pairings & aus: earth42!miles morales x black!fem!reader ♡ summary: your boyfriend loves keeping his girl spoiled and happy, and he especially loves to see what he does for you ♡ warnings: one swear! just sum' good ole fluff ♡ a/n: thanks for your request!! we love the softie side of mr morales ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

MILES MORALES DEFINITELY SPOILS YOU. Every chance he can get, he's finding reasons to provide for his girl or finding ways and outlets to get you what you want. On this particular day, you were sitting in a hairstylist's chair after Miles caught you scrolling through different hairstyles on your Pinterest feed.

"You want that one, hermosa?" He had asked you earlier when he saw you save a picture of some goddess braids to your hair inspiration board. You didn't even bother to lie and say no, because you knew he could tell if you were lying, so you just nodded and watched as he sent you three hundred dollars to go and get your hair done. As you stood up and got ready to go, he came up to you and pulled his car keys out his pocket, "Take my whip. I'll see you later, okay? Love you."

Grinning at him, you had kissed him and left his house to go to your favorite hairstylist, Monica, who has never done you dirty in the years she's been doing your hair. You were sitting comfortably in her chair, catching up on the latest neighborhood gossip as your phone charged next to her hair station. She heard it buzz and she tapped your shoulder, "Girl, your man is texting you."

"Hand me the phone, please." You requested, the device getting placed into your palm as you felt Monica start on your next braid. You swiped your phone open and clicked on your boyfriend's text.

from [mi novio <3]: hey amor from [mi novio <3]: what yo hair lookin like? lemme see

You giggled at his message, "Yo, Monica, can you take a picture of the back of my head and send it to Miles?"

Monica snorts, "You do know this big 'ole ponytail ain't finish yet, right? I'm jus' starting the third row."

"Just take it." You urged with a laugh. You heard your stylist snap the picture and click send, and within seconds, your boyfriend was texting you back.

from [mi novio <3]: yikes bae from [mi novio <3]: thats the end product? from [mi novio <3]: u need some more $$ ??

to [mi novio <3]: no u idiot, she ain done yet to [mi novio <3]: i think imma get blonde ends whatchu think?

from [mi novio <3]: get 'em, youll look cute in that

to [mi novio <3]: wait crap i dont have enough money

MI NOVIO <3 HAS SENT YOU $100 DOLLARS.

from [mi novio <3]: here u go ma from [mi novio <3]: txt me when u done from [mi novio <3]: i love u

You grinned at your phone and set it down, slumping back in the chair as you waited for Monica to finish your hair up. You couldn't wait to get home to your boyfriend and show him.

After what seemed like an eternity, your braids were finally finished, dipped, and your scalp had been moussed. You swiped your (more like Miles') card and smiled at Monica, who wished you a good day and slipped a free hair oil in your bag. You made your way outside and quickly drove back to your boyfriend's place, excited to show him your new hairstyles.

You unlocked the door to his crib once you arrived. You saw him sitting on the couch, manspreading with his hands behind his head, watching something on TV that you would probably have little to no interest in. You grinned and squealed when you saw him, plopping down next to him, "Look at my hairrrrr!"

He smiled at you, kissing your cheek, "Lookin' so fine, déjame hacer una foto."

You watch as your boyfriend takes out his phone and takes a picture of your hair, saving it to some folder. You peek over with a smile as you see the name,

my woman and the shit i pay for.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✎: @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10

[tiggyfiretiger]

Soooo…. I have been inspired and I drew a thing! As you guys know, I love Barnaby and I’ve been obsessed with him for a while and even made a ask blog where you can ask him questions and I’d draw a picture, responding to the question as Barnaby! So, I was reading facts about him the other day and it said….

I was wondering how or what Barnaby does to handle these types of situations where people want to die of old age, since he doesn’t have any time related powers. That’s when I realized: Barnaby needs a little assistant to help him murder his party guests!

So, I’d like to introduce you all to my first BBU OC, Bartholomew the bat!

(Psssst! If you turn him upside down and look at his face, ignore the ears, you’ll see a little Easter egg in the outline of the head! Could that be the outline of Barnaby’s head?!)

I would’ve liked to choose a time related name for him, but Bartholomew was his WIP name and…. I think his name fits him quite well!

Now, Bartho here has Time magic. I had to come up with all of this from scratch, since the game isn’t out yet and no time related characters have been revealed, but basically, Bartho can manipulate time on himself and on others. He can make himself and others look and feel any age he wants, using his magic, he has technically found a way to make himself immortal by rewinding time on himself, as a result, he has lived countless lives, so his backstory can be anything you want! If you can think it, he’s probably lived it!

(This makes him kinda OP, i know, but I honestly can’t think of any drawbacks to this power, so if you have a suggestion, feel free to leave a comment!)

When Bartho went to go join Barnaby’s party, Bartho surprised Barnaby by saying that he wanted all the deaths that Barnaby could possibly think of. Barnaby questioned it of course, but when Bartho explained what he could do, I’d like to imagine that Barnaby probably had a heart attack out of joy! XD

Compared to Barnaby, Bartho is extremely tiny! About the size of a mouse! Barnaby can definitely eat him, if he wanted to!

I’d like to think that he is a clockmaker who loves clocks and watches and loves to fix them!

One of my favorite ideas I’ve come up for Bartho is that when he sleeps, he sways from side to side like a pendulum on a clock!

Concept art tiiime!

These were Bartho’s concepts, and they’re not pretty. I was going to post these the other day, but after looking at them some more, I decided that I wasn’t happy with either of them, and needed to go back to the drawing board and make something that I’m actually happy with! And yes, Bartho did have a tail at one point, but I quickly scrapped that idea, created a inspirational board on Pinterest, and tried to get inspired. The things that inspired Bartho’s design is Steampunk, clocks, other bat OCs, actual bats, furries, Halloween, autumn, and Of course, Barnaby!

I would have loved to have this somewhere on Bartho’s ghost design, but alas, I wanted it to be as easy to draw as Barnaby is, adding this would complicate things a lot. So I opted for a finished hourglass, signaling that his time alive is finished and that he has no need to keep track of time anymore. Because he can’t keep track of time in his ghost form, Bartho prefers to stay alive, but isn’t afraid of death, since he can just rewind time on himself. (Yay!!! My version of time magic is broken and OP! LOL!)

Before you guys ask, yes, you may make art of Bartho, just credit me as the creator of Bartho and show me if you do decide to draw them! I’d love to see! Oh! And tag it with #Bartho bat, that way I could find it easier!

[suguruslut]

Going to a concert

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

<<< 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪🐉| 𝙏𝙤𝙧𝙖🐅| 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙖🐕 >>>

Gwen’s note: i saw mcr and angele in concert this year...the only thing missing was a househusband to hold my snacks...

🐉𝒯𝒶𝓉𝓈𝓊🍳

--as we know, Tatsu is really into rap music, so when you win tickets to see Agust D in concert, Tatsu flips his shit. dude won’t stop talking about it for all the months leading up to the concert. he actually makes Goda cry one time out of jealousy

--once the night arrives, Tatsu is over prepared, waiting outside the arena a good four hours before the show starts; nobody dared cut in front of you guys, and he was one of the first in line for merch, grinning proudly at your matching t-shirts

--he somehow got all his snacks and water bottles past security?? don’t ask how, he’ll never tell

--once you get in, Tatsu’s leading the way through the crowd with a gentle grip on your hand, making you drink water and sit at least for a few minutes since you’ll be standing and jumping the entire concert. the place is packed, but he assures you there’s no hitmen nearby

--definitely tears up when Agust D first comes out, then REALLY gets into it all while staying within concert etiquette. he sings all the lyrics, which he knows by heart, and it makes you smile to see him so happy and inspired

--dedicates each song to you, even though he didn’t write them; the only time this makes you cry is when he says it before AMYGDALA, his favorite off Agust D’s new album. Tatsu says it reminds him of how bad things were before meeting you, but now that you’re in it together, life and its choices seem a lot less difficult

-- immediately following the show and still riding the concert high... “I bet I can make my own mixtape! I found some great ideas on Pinterest...whattya think of that, Y/N?!”

🐅𝒯𝑜𝓇𝒶𝒿𝒾𝓇𝑜🍰

--Tora strikes me as a heavy metal kind of guy, always head banging and screaming his heart out whilst driving his kawaii crepe truck. when you surprise him with tickets to Beast in Black, he almost crushes your back with how tightly he hugs you

--listens to all their albums the week leading up to the concert, nonstop repeat so he knows all the words to every single song. luckily you love him, so you find it endearing to listen to him scream as loud as he can for most of the day. and pretend he knows how to play electric guitar

--doesn’t want to arrive early bcz that’s “uncool,” so you guys show up just as the concert is starting, Tora shoving his way through the crowd with you using him as a shield

-- “Outta the way, scrubs! A true fan is coming through!”

--literally pushes his way right up to the stage. you won’t be able to hear tomorrow, but how can you care about that when you see Tora’s face light up upon the band entering?

--he really did learn all the lyrics, screaming and singing with a grin on his face as he keeps one arm around you at all times, pumping his other fist in time with the music; you can’t believe how carefree Tora is acting, thinking you should bring him to heavy metal concerts more often

--One Night In Tokyo is his absolute favorite song, but he won’t admit to shedding tears after hearing it live. well, maybe just to you, because you got it on video for blackmail material

--for sure had you take a million pictures of him at the concert so he can brag to his friends (Tatsu) and frame some for your apartment

🐕ℳ𝒶𝓈𝒶🥡

--I can see Masa being very into trendy music, especially Jpop and Kpop. when he hears Band Maid is in town, he blows his last paycheck on two tickets; imagine his shock when you say you’ve never heard any of their songs

--by the time the concert comes around, let’s just say you now know every single song from each album, thanks to Masa overloading you with fandom info. you know each member, their life history, favorite foods, iconic looks, etc. etc. your husband is a major BM nerd, okay?

-- “I can’t believe you’ve never listened to them before! Here’s their first album, which I think was the third best out of all their albums, and here’s a list of the biggest venues they’ve played at, and...”

--should’ve put that boy on a leash...Masa gets lost at the venue at least five different times, always in search of the nearest bathroom and ending up in creepy hallways and surrounded by strangers

--they literally call your name over the speakers to come get him, lmao. once you clip him to your belt the concert starts, and the second the girls step on stage, Masa bursts into tears and squeals, though you’re not sure if it’s because he’s excited for the music or bcz they’re all wearing maid outfits...

--I think Masa would have a great singing voice, so it’s actually pleasant to hear him sing along with the band. you guys had pretty good seats, and Masa was taking endless pics and videos of both Band Maid and you two. before the concert was even over he set his wallpaper as one of your cheerful selfies, concert lights streaming over your faces

--dumbass didn’t even realize he bought backstage passes, and his favorite member, Misa (bcz her name is similar to his), actually signs his t-shirt for him, prompting him to pass out in your arms

--he’s just as elated when he wakes up as he was when he passed out, and will probably never stop talking about the time you two went to a Band Maid concert together

                                                        🐉 🐅 🐕

[nationalharryleague]

Two for the Show

Summary: Jeff plans for Harry’s new opening act to be more than that. 

Genre: Famous Fake Dating! 

Word Count: 17.1k!

Pinterest Board

A/N: Hey babes!! This is something I’ve been working on since December now and I’m so fucking proud of it and how it turned out!!! It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written and I’m so so so excited to hear what everyone has to say!! Giant thank you’s go out to the incredible soph (@theharriediaries​) and Lu (@meetmymouth​) bc this never would have come to fruition without them and their help!! Please let me know what you think!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist!! Happy reading y’all :)

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

If Y/N was being honest with herself, everything Full Stop Management had ever suggested to her had worked, and very well. When they suggested her music took a more pop direction, they set her up with a team of fantastic producers and her music sales and popularity skyrocketed. And when they set up an appointment with a celebrity stylist to figure out her signature style, it worked; they turned her into the 1970’s inspired goddess she had always dreamed of being. Even the hours of media training that she had been put through worked, helping her learn how to bob and weave even the most intrusive of interview questions.

But this time, she thought they might be going too far.

“Jeff,” she began with a sigh and a doubtful shake of her head, “I don’t know about this one.”

“It’s just a few months before and during the tour,” explained the man sitting across from her at the long conference table. “You’ll be seen in public a few times to drum up publicity for the tour and your album, maybe do an interview or two together, and some light PDA.”

His expression was honest and earnest. In the time he had represented her, he had never done anything to her that didn’t help her succeed. It was not hard for her to believe that he just wanted what was best for her and her career.

But something kept holding her back.

“I just got my heart broken in the most public way,” she said softly, absentmindedly fiddling with the base of her ring finger where an engagement ring once sat. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be seen jumping back into a whirlwind romance?”

“I don’t think so. If anything, it will make James look even worse than he already does after what he did to you.” She had to admit the idea of a little revenge did perk her ears up a bit. “And it doesn’t hurt that Harry is so universally loved and known for being such a good guy.”

That was another reason she was skeptical of this entire plot. This was Harry Styles they were talking about; Harry fucking Styles. She had only met him once or twice while working out details for her to be the opening act for his upcoming tour, but she had been a big fan of his and idolized him since she was a teen. Just meeting him threw her inner 16 year old self for a loop, let alone trying to pretend she was in love with him.

In all honesty, it probably wouldn’t be too hard on her end once she got over being starstruck; she wasn’t so sure she still wasn’t kind of in love with him, or at least the version the public saw.

“Listen,” Jeff began again, his voice taking on a bluntness, “no one cares about the opening act. No one bought tickets to see you; they’re there to see Harry.” His words stung but she knew it was the truth. “But if they think you are a part of Harry’s life, they care about you too. And they will keep on caring about you after they leave the show.” Her apprehensiveness must have been clear on her face when he put on a gentle smile. “He’s a really nice person. I promise.”

“I know,” she breathed, a small pout finding its way to her lips. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically to signal surrender. “I’m in.”

A triumphant grin spread across his face. “Thank you. I’ll go call Harry and tell him you’re down.” She watched as he got up from his chair and came towards her, pressing a brief and friendly kiss to the top of her head. “You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“I better not, Azoff,” she chuckled while shaking her head slightly.

Soon she was alone in the conference room, basking in the light from the floor to ceiling windows that sat before her.

“What did I just get myself into?” she mumbled quietly to herself.

***

The answer to that question came two weeks later when she was sitting across a table from the Harry Styles at a small outdoor brunch spot in LA. Their meeting place was strategic, a small restaurant, not too flashy so it didn’t look like they were seeking attention, but outdoors where anyone could see. It was only a matter of time before he was recognized, and the sighting was almost guaranteed to be trending on Twitter only minutes later.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t nervous. The inside of her mouth had been chewed raw and the bags under her eyes showed she had been having trouble sleeping in the nights leading up to their first appearance together. By the end of the day, she would most likely have countless articles written about her and possibly have millions of angry fangirls coming after her; even though their “relationship�� wouldn’t be officially confirmed for a few weeks.

If all went to Jeff’s plan, she would become an A-lister overnight.

She stood in front of her closet for over an hour, trying on and taking off outfits before finally settling on her favorite pair of bright red corduroy flares and a crisp white textured halter top. She paired the outfit with a new pair of heeled leather boots. They were a flashy pair that were split down the middle, bright yellow on one side and white with yellow stars on the other, hoping Harry would appreciate the bold colors.

She meticulously did her makeup, sure to match her lipstick color exactly to the shade of her pants; and spent far too long in front of the mirror fussing with her hair, praying it would lay the way she wanted it to.

She knew that she was going to be photographed in some way shape or form, and with the fashion icon himself. She had to look good. He had been on the cover of Vogue for god’s sake.

When she finally arrived at the cafe, Harry sat quietly across from her. He looked casual, or as casual as Harry Styles gets. A yellow t-shirt, that was tight enough to look as if it was painted on, showed off his muscular chest and arms. His iconic tattoos illustrated his arms and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she covertly tried to examine closely. He uncomfortably ran his palms down the legs of his high waisted denim flares that had been paired with his signature pearl necklace and ratty, but well loved, white vans.

And she couldn’t forget his rings. His signature gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ looked back at her as he gently grasped his flute filled to the brim with a mimosa, bringing it to his pink lips that were surrounded by the short stubble he had been wearing lately.

The pair sat in a slightly awkward silence, both seeming to down their mimosas quickly just because it was something to do with their hands and could occupy their lips so they didn’t have to talk.

To say she was panicking, wouldn’t be too much of an over exaggeration. She was sitting across from one of the world’s biggest stars, and as one of his biggest closeted fans. The things he could do for her career were astronomical and it was hard to ignore that, but she also had a hard time getting over the way his hair seemed to fall into perfect tousled curls and his dreamy green eyes.

She had been in love with him (or at least the idea of him) since she was 16. She couldn’t help it.

But the bottomless mimosas helped to break her anxiety, and apparently his as well, as they both began to feel a slight buzz.

“So how did Jeff end up talking you into this?” Harry eventually broke the silence, the alcohol lowering his naturally shy inhibitions just enough to kick off their conversation.

She let a playful eye roll take over her face before she began. “Oh Jeff,” she said jokingly, letting out a long sigh. “I was convinced somewhere in between ‘it’ll make your ex look bad’ and a stern ‘no one ever cares about the opening act,’” she chuckled, while sarcastically wagging her finger in the air, dramatically re-enacting his scolds.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting out a dramatic ‘ouch.’ “He’s not always gentle, is he?” matching her chuckle.

“He knows where to hit you where it hurts,” she laughed, while nodding in agreement. “How did he convince you?”

“Coincidently, he also took a low blow involving my ex. I believe his words were ‘You wrote an entire album about her and haven’t dated anyone since and it makes you look kind of pathetic.’” He dramatically used air quotes and did his best impression of Jeff’s American accent. She couldn’t hold back the giggles that erupted from her.

“Oh my goodness,” she let out through slightly buzzed giggles, “you definitely win.”

From that point, their conversation began to flow more easily, easing her anxiety as she learned he was generally easy to talk to. He laughed at her jokes, and she laughed at his. He really did have the calming and disarming quality that people always said he had, like could melt down any walls and convince you to be honest with him, even if you didn’t really want to be. She was shocked to find that she wanted him to genuinely be a friend to her so badly. He was just so nice and such a good listener.

Their conversation took a turn when Harry’s super power of knowing when his picture was being taken kicked in. “Give me your hand,” he said to her, diverting from the pleasant conversation they had been having about their families. “Don’t look but there’s someone across the street taking photos of us.”

His instructions brought her back to the reality that they weren’t really friends and that all of this was for show.

She brought her hand up to meet his, strategically resting on the side of the table that faced the street, giving the camera the best view. The cool metal of his hand full of rings felt good against her skin that had been baking in the hot LA sun and he passed his thumb over her knuckles with faux affection.

She couldn’t help but feel a dishonest weight pulling on her heart. She knew everything was going to plan and this was all for the best, but it also felt slightly wrong. She played with her small heart shaped earring to distract herself from the sinking feeling.

“Harry,” she began, knowing the people across the street were out of ear shot. Her voice brought his attention from her hand back up to her eyes. “Does this feel wrong to you at all?”

“How so?”

“It just feels dishonest, like we’re lying to millions of people, our–well, mostly your fans.” She couldn’t help but correct herself.

His eyes softened at her words, like he was taking in the innocence she still held onto after only being in the industry for a short time, compared to his decade in the spotlight.

“I try not to think of it as lying,” he spoke slowly after a moment of thinking. He nodded along softly to punctuate his words. “When you think about all this as lying, it starts to weigh pretty heavy on you as a person. I try to be as honest as possible in my music and daily life, but that’s not always what people want to see. They want a show that will entertain them, and it is our job to give it to them.”

“I see,” she mused.

They sat together for another hour or so, allowing their small mimosa buzz to wear off enough for them to drive the short distances to their homes. The pair eventually found their way back to a comfortable conversation, but Harry’s comment about being in the public eye still weighed on her.

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if all of this was worth it. Y/N was a master at dodging a question and turning the charm to 10 when it was needed, but she wasn’t a liar and she definitely wasn’t an actress. She hoped she (or Jeff) hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew with all of this.

Harry eventually walked her back to her car that was parked a few blocks away, and while she was sure he was doing it for the cameras, she didn’t doubt that he would have done it even if they weren’t there. He just seemed like that kind of guy to her; caring and trustworthy.

“Thank you for a very nice date, Harry,” she said, winking and chuckling along with the extra emphasis she put on the last word.

“My pleasure,” he smiled down at her. He moved along with her as she walked to the driver's side door, opening it for her like a perfect gentleman. The two stood close, his body hovering over her’s as they stood inside the open door. Her heart rose to her throat as he leaned down to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her burning cheek.

Y/N  looked back up at him with rosy cheeks and a tightlipped bashful smile. She watched as he walked backward carefully, taking her hand that had been locked with his until he was too far and let it fall back to her body.

She situated herself in her drivers seat and was ready to leave when she heard a knocking on the passenger side window that startled her. Harry had bent himself over and was motioning for her to roll the window down. When she did, he leaned himself in, an honest look in his eyes.

“Before you go,” he said gently. “A word of advice from someone who had been in the public eye for a long time,” he spoke with a tender yet serious tone, eyes locking with hers. “When you go home today, don’t go on social media. People are mean, and it’s just going to hurt.” She nodded along with his words and watched as he pinched his bottom lip. “And when you inevitably can’t resist, text me if you need to talk about it.”

***

They must have done a good job putting on their show because within an hour of her returning home to her apartment, they were all anyone was talking about. Their names were trending worldwide #1 on Twitter. Streams of Y/N’s debut album were up by 800%, and even Harry’s streams had taken a considerable jump. Y/N had gained 40,ooo new followers and views on every interview she had ever done were steadily rising.

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

Harry’s words circled her brain for hours. “Don’t go on social media,” she heard him say over and over again as she paced her apartment, only stopping to look at the phone sitting on the kitchen counter every so often.

She had taken a shower, done her hair, tried to watch TV, cooked herself dinner, and even tried to sit down and write a song; it all got her nowhere fast. The unknown was eating at her inside.

Y/N broke when she heard the small ding signaling she had gotten a text message. She had all but sprinted to see who it was, reunited with the outside world through her touch screen. Unsurprisingly, it was from Jeff; the message sent to her and an unknown number she assumed to be Harry’s.

Good job, kiddos., was all it read but there was a photo attached to the message. Her heart stopped while she waited for the photo to load, cursing her slow wifi in the process. After a few breathless moments, the photo came through.

It was a screenshot from the website of one of the biggest entertainment magazines in the country. A picture of him kissing her cheek was the front page of the website.

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N Rumored To Be Music’s New Power Couple Ahead of Tour

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

She would like to say the sheer shock blurred her judgement, but the curiosity just got the better of her. Harry’s words repeated over and over again in her head, telling her not to, even as her finger connected with the icon of the little blue bird.

She was the most talked about topic in the entire world, her name hovering in bold letters on the trending page. She did everything she could to not click on her name, but her fingers did it all on her own.

The first few tweets were nice. Someone said they liked her style and that they looked cute together as a couple. Another said that they had always enjoyed her music and that they were happy for them.

But as she scrolled, it became harsher and just mean. People commented on her weight, said she couldn’t sing, and criticized her personality as seeming fake and forced. Her eyes were locked on the screen, unable to look away, as her heart began to break and few tears began to roll.

It took one final, and the most painful, tweet for her to consider deleting her account completely. She swiped out of the app fast, but the words were still burned into her brain.

Y/N is using Harry, just like she used James before he got rid of her and found someone better.

The words knocked the wind out of her, pouring salt on an open wound that had yet to heal.

She also had the little blue bird for that heartbreak as well. When she opened the app two months ago, the first thing she saw was pictures of her (former) fiance, James, with his tongue down some girl’s throat. At the time she had been devastated, her heart broken beyond repair.

It felt like no one else in the world could understand the way she was feeling. If she was in this position because of another person, they must get it too. The text to Harry was already sent before she had time to think it over.

I looked and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.

His response came only seconds later.

Don’t be sorry. It’s hard not to. Are you alright?

She had to think about his question, unsure if she knew the answer. Tears were still running down her face and she felt like she was a target the entire world had decided it was open season on. Logically, she knew these people never thought she would see these awful things, but it didn’t excuse the hurt she felt when she did.

I don’t know. I just don’t understand how people can be so cruel.

She felt like she was bothering him, even though he had offered to be there for her. He wasn’t her best friend, or a close confidant; he was her fake publicity boyfriend. He had real friends he wanted to talk to or maybe even a real girlfriend underwraps somewhere. Her body was wracked with guilt as she thought it over.

People are just mean on the internet, okay? They think they can say whatever they want without repercussions. I’m so sorry that you are being targeted because of me.

Before she got a chance to think through a proper response to him, her phone dinged with another text. It was from Jeff again.

Really good job, kiddos.

Y/N was confused. They hadn’t done anything else but be seen together today. Her sick sense of curiosity got her again before she opened Twitter again and looked up Harry’s name. He had tweeted for the first time in six months only a few moments ago.

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

The next time she saw him was two days later at yet another public meet up Jeff had arranged for them. Unfortunately this time, she had become just as famous as Harry seemingly overnight, the flames of her new found fame growing even larger after he had sent that tweet.

While the fame had grown, the hate had calmed since his statement, which most had taken as an official declaration of their relationship. Now, that was not to Jeff’s plans.

She had to fight her way out of her apartment complex, wearing a pair of massive dark sunglasses with circular lenses and shielding her face with her hands the best she could. But she did have to admit that the electric orange fabric of her jumpsuit probably didn’t do much to help her blend in and avoid the attention of the paparazzi that had now found out where she lived.

Harry was sitting at the table by himself facing the back of the cafe when she arrived, two cups of coffee waiting before him to be drank together placed delicately on the table. He had his head down, buried in a book, before she startled him with a hug from behind. Her cheek connected with his warm neck where she buried her head into him and she took in his dizzying cologne.

She felt him jump beneath her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a dramatic and cheesy kiss to his cheek, feeling his light stubble prick her chapsticked lips. “My hero,” she joked, trying to bring at least a little humor to the man who had just about jumped out of his skin at her touch.

It felt like she was crossing a boundary, and she was pretty sure she was, but she just needed to thank him and a hug felt like the best way to do that while in a semi-crowded coffee shop. Also, playing up that they were madly in love didn’t hurt.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, a hand flying over his chest in surprise to feel his racing heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me.” Once he settled for a moment, his arm moved across his chest to rest on her arm. His touch was gentle and soft, holding her there gently like he didn’t want her to release him from her grasp. She tried not to think about it too much as she slipped her arms off of him, making her way to the seat that was clearly meant for her across from him.

“I’m sorry that I scared you. A little jumpy today?” she teasingly questioned.

“Hey, watch it,” he playfully threatened. “I believe you called me your hero about thirty seconds ago.”

“I guess I did,” she quipped over the mug she was bringing to her lips. It was sweet but not too sweet, with cream but not too much, and still piping hot; just the way she liked it. “I don’t think it’s too far off,” she smiled before turning back to the coffee. “Good coffee,” she mused. “Just the way I like it.”

“Good. I texted Jeff for your order,” he informed her, the gesture being so thoughtful and sweet she could have melted into a puddle right there and then. “And I think ‘hero’ might be a bit much,” he tacked on.

“Don’t be humble, Harry.” While her voice was still light and held a jesting tone, she meant her words. “You made the entire internet leave me alone, for the most part,” she clarified as there were definitely some nasty messages still floating around Twitter, “in five words.”

“It was the least I could do,” he said while shaking his head slightly, seeming to deflect her words.

“You could have done absolutely nothing.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand in hers like they had staged at the cafe a few days earlier; but this time, it was an honest gesture, not one for a role they were both meant to be playing. Her words were serious, punctuating each with a gentle nod of her head. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes held the same truthfulness and honesty she hoped she was mirroring in her own. “I know all of this,” he paused and gestured between them with his free hand, “is for publicity, but I consider you a friend. It was hard to watch it all go down like that. You’re a good person and you didn’t deserve all that. I had to do something.”

There was a warmth that flooded her chest. He called me his friend, she thought to herself, fighting back a big toothy grin. She had been under the impression that all of this was just work for him, something he was doing just to drum up publicity, with no personal connections at all. But him calling her a friend meant so much to her. It meant she was not alone in all this terrifying and overwhelming attention.

“I’m glad you think of me as a friend,” she said, still holding back her smile. “You’re my friend too.” He matched her close-lipped smile that had fought its way onto her face at her words.

They sat in silence together for a few moments. Harry returned to his book and Y/N answered emails; but their hands stayed connected across the small table. This silence was very different from the silence on the day they first met. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that sat on your tongue, begging you to break the quiet; it was peaceful and safe.

Their silence was broken when a young woman wearing a jittery smile and nervous eyes approached their table. Her voice squeaked out a mouse-like “Hi,” towards the both of them, bringing their eyes up to meet hers and instinctively breaking their hands away from each other.

“I’m so so sorry to be a bother,” she began, cheeks red and hot. “But I’m a really big fan of both of you and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t say hello.” She rambled excitedly, mostly looking at Harry, as she held her slightly shaky hands up to her chest.

“Hello,” Harry said with one of his million dollar smiles. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you Emma.” He spoke gently with her, clearly sensing her anxiety, extending his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for all of your support.”

Y/N watched closely as he spoke with her. He spoke to her like she was the only person in the room, giving her his whole undivided attention, and repeatedly thanking her as she flooded him with compliments about how his music and message of kindness meant so much to her. She was so entranced that she nearly didn’t hear her own name being said as the girl turned towards her.

“I love your music as well,” she grinned, clearly more comfortable after her short conversation with Harry. “And your jumpsuit is just incredible.” Her nervous giggle was contagious, Y/N releasing one as well at the compliment as her cheeks heated slightly. She was shocked she even knew any of her music, clearly being the less popular of the pair.  

“Thank you so much, Emma. It means a lot.”

Emma took a few quick selfies with the both of them (that would be everywhere within a few hours), said goodbye and went to leave the two, but not before she paid them one last compliment. “You two are really cute together. I’m rooting for you.”

Both of their cheeks warmed as they looked back at each other. They were quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond, before Harry turned his attention back to the girl with a coy smile. “I am too,” was all he said.

***

The next three weeks passed in a blur of tour rehearsals, fittings, and public meetings with Harry. And then all of a sudden, it was the night of the first show.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her entire life. She would be the first face seen by just over 19,000 people, tasked to warm up the crowd and prepare them for Harry, which was enough pressure. And then there was the chance that they all hated her guts.

She stood behind the curtain, listening to the loud and inpatient crowd as she paced back and forth. She white-knuckeld her guitar, trying to keep her violently shaking hands from being too visible to the crew around her. Her stomach swirled and her palms were clammy, constantly having to rub them on the pants of her icey blue jumpsuit. It fit her like a glove, the wide legged pants and slight shoulder pads, creating a perfect hourglass silhouette; the only thing she was confident in at the moment was how good she looked in it.

Her heart leapt out of her chest and she almost hit the ceiling when a small voice appeared over her shoulder, whispering “You’re going to do great,” in her ear. If her heart wasn’t about to give out before, it was now. She swung around to face him, almost hitting Harry with her guitar, letting out a small breath of relief when her eyes met his own. They always seemed to calm her down a bit.

“I’m kinda freaking out, H,” she anxiously babbled, using the nickname he had told her to call him. “This is the biggest crowd I’ve ever played in front of, and they probably all hate me because they think I’m dating you, and I have to make sure I do a good job so they start listening to my music; and I just…” she trailed off for a second, uncomfortably scratching the back of her neck, “I just can’t let you down.”

His face softened at her words, seeming to take pity on her. “Y/N,” he began, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking so deep into her eyes she felt like he could probably see her soul. “We picked you to open because people love your music and the way that you perform. You just have to go out there and do what you do best: sing your heart out and put on a good show. It’s only 25 minutes. I know you can do it.”

Every word that left his lips was laced with honesty and encouragement; just enough for Y/N to relax her furrowed brow and give her lip a break from her constant chewing. “I can do it,” she softly repeated back to him, still not breaking contact with his striking green eyes.

A stage manager passed by them, running to some other important task, but not before tapping her shoulder. “You’re on in 30 seconds,” he spoke, just as she heard the roar of the crowd begin, signalling the dimming of the lights in the arena.

“Go kick some ass,” he winked, stepping backwards from her and releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll be watching.”

Walking on stage, she wasn’t met with ‘boo’s that had plagued her nightmares, or mean looks from the audience, or rotten tomatoes thrown from the crowd.

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

From the second she started playing, the crowd had her back; the ones that knew the words to her songs sang them along with her, and the ones that didn’t, happily danced to her voice. Before long, the smile she had forced onto her face was genuine, and her set passed by with ease. When her 25 minutes were up, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get off the stage.

She took her final bow as the crowd roared, running off of the stage into the wings, looking for one person in particular. And when she found him, she threw herself into Harry’s open and waiting arms. “I told you that you were going to do great!” He spoke excitedly into her ear and he held her close to his body, his arms wrapped around her waist tight.

She liked the way it felt to be in his arms.

Pulling away from him, she saw the massive grin that he wore for her, noting how adorable his dimples were and how the excited look in his eyes made him look like a little kid. But there was more to his face than excitement, he looked proud.

“They were so nice to me, and they knew my songs, and they were screaming so loud for me, and it just went so well. I can’t believe it!” Her previous anxious chatter had become an exhilarated rambling and she felt on top of the world.

“I can,” he grinned, looking down at his watch quickly. “I have to go get changed.” If she wasn’t so amped up, she might have noticed the disappointment that flashed over his features. “Promise me you’ll watch the show?”

“Pinky swear?” She stuck up her little finger in the air.

“Pinky swear.” He kept their pinkies locked for a moment too long, then released her hand and ran backstage to get dressed.

She kept her promise and watched with excitement as the building shook when Harry took the stage.

She had never heard something quite so loud, sure her ears would be ringing when she snuggled into her bunk on the tour bus that night. Watching him perform was mesmerizing; he knew how to work a stage in every way and make every person in the arena feel like he was singing just for them. He was larger than life while performing and his little dances and mannerisms only got more pronounced the more comfortable he got on stage. He messed with Mitch, who she had only met a few hours ago (he was very nice), and constantly praised Sarah on the drums behind him, while he looked over to Adam and sent him smiles often.

Everyone in the building came for a show, and boy, did he give them one. It was amazing to watch. There was a reason she was a fan.

Bouncing off the stage, full of adrenaline and in a post-show high, he came to find her. It wasn’t hard, as she had never left her spot on the side of the stage, unable to rip her eyes away from the man before her.

“Oh my god, Harry! That was incredible!” she said with delighted amazement.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He was smiling down at her with a big toothy grin, a hand running through his sweaty hair and pushing it off his forehead. “They only get better from here.”

***

He was telling the truth. The shows only got crazier and more exciting as the tour went on, and so did their “relationship.”

About five shows in, Jeff had Harry given her his “H” ring to start wearing. Harry didn’t seem too phased by it all even though she thought it might be too much, saying “it’s like a friendship bracelet.” But it was too big for her fingers, not because she had small hands, but because Harry’s were absolutely massive. She wore it on a chain around her neck from then on and made sure to always be seen playing with it.

Fans took notice and loved it.

A little after that, Jeff sent them off to get matching manicures. Both had a melting rainbow of oranges, pinks, and browns on their fingertips, which looked amazing in the paparazzi photos of them walking around with their fingers intertwined.

The fans loved that too.

But when she “accidentally” posted a photo of Harry on her story, the entire world lost it’s shit. In the photo, he laid sprawled across a bed in only a white hotel robe that was creeping dangerously high up his thigh. He looked sleepy and slightly sweaty, in a post-fuck haze, and clothes that looked very similar to ones she had been seen wearing in public only days before were strewn across the floor. The caption read “I love getting to love you.”

The photo had strategically only been up for about 30 seconds, but by the time it was deleted thousands of people had seen it and screenshots had been taken. They quickly circulated the internet, creating a bit of scandal. But more than anything, people began to love the two of them together even more. Harry looked genuinely happy in the photo, and for most of his fans, that was all that mattered.  

They were creating a fairytale love story for an audience, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying her role. She quite liked being his “girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N had a way of clicking as they grew closer–quite literally as they were crammed together on a tour bus most of the time. They seemed to be able to finish each other’s sentences and always beat the other to the punchline of a joke. The pair had begun to pick up on the other’s mannerisms and habits; Y/N always teasing that Harry was going to rub his nose off one day if he kept rubbing it while he was thinking and Harry always knowing when she got enough sleep by whether or not she had put on eyeliner that morning. They swapped playlists back and forth in their bunks as they tried to doze off and always grabbed a cup of coffee for whoever had decided to sleep in the next day, now knowing the other’s order by heart.

There was only one thing she didn’t know about him that she longed to discover: what his lips felt like against her own. She could never think too hard about it though, or she may just explode.

He had become a calming presence and was currently helping her keep her cool, even though she knew the pair of interviewers across the table were getting ready to grill the pair for every detail they could get. His hand had settled on top of her knee to quell it’s nervous bouncing, but remained after she had stopped, even though no one could see his touch under the table. She watched as his thumb ran itself back and forth along the leg of her flashy orange and yellow patterned overalls and she had a hard time pulling her gaze away when the radio host across the large table began to speak.

“So Harry,” the bald man began. “Fine Line has been one of the biggest albums of the year and I just have to say I love it. It’s truly incredible.” She listened as the man continued on to sing Harry’s praises, going on to list his grammy nominations, sold out world tour, and other accolades. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched his cheeks tinge pink with the praise. She knew anyone watching would pick up on her adoring look and people fawn over it, but she knew her gaze was nothing but truthful.

“Thank you very much,” he said shyly, shaking his head slightly as he spoke into the microphone suspended in front of his face. “You’re too kind.”

“Stop being humble,” she teased him, playfully tapping him on the arm. “All of his music is fantastic,” she said turning her attention back to the man across from them, “especially Fine Line.”

“And there’s Y/N, being the supportive girlfriend,” the man chuckled.

“I support him in everything he does,” she smiled back, not having to embellish the truth at all. “He is an amazing talent and I think Fine Line shows that.”

It wasn’t hard for her to gush about him. It was actually quite easy. She absolutely adored him, as an artist, a friend, and the focus of her affection. She felt an equal warmth in her cheeks as she watched his get even pinker with her compliments.

“That’s actually something we wanted to ask you about,” the blonde woman sitting next to him piped up, a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent nervous butterflies flying around Y/N’s stomach. “One of the songs on Fine Line, Cherry to be specific, actually features the voice of Harry’s ex, Camille. How does that make you feel as his new girl?”

Y/N did her best not to gag at the woman’s question, gritting her teeth as she plastered on a polite smile. “Well, I think Cherry is a really great song and her voice at the end adds a lot,” she spoke as smoothly as she could, refusing to let on that the question rattled her. Harry’s light squeeze on her knee signalled to her that she had answered the question well.

“It’s also been three years since the song was written,” Harry cut in. “Things are obviously a lot different now.” He connected their eyes for a second while he was leaning back into his seat, sending her a short smile, but she knew him well enough to know it was genuine.

“Oh, definitely,” the woman eagerly agreed. “You’re in a great new relationship with a beautiful girl on your arm.”

“Y/N,” he emphasized her name as the woman had referred to her as a possession of his for a second time, “and I are very happy. Thank you.” To an onlooker, he was calm. To her, he was visibly uncomfortable by her words.

Y/N began to notice a clear pattern as the interview went on. Harry was asked exclusively about his music and the tour, while Y/N only became relevant to their interviewers when they wanted to mention their relationship.

When the man asked Y/N if she felt uncomfortable playing to Harry’s mainly female fanbase every night that are “so obviously jealous of her,” something snapped inside of her, sending all her hours of media training out the window. “I’m not uncomfortable at all,” she said curtly. “His music is great and he puts on an awesome show. I don’t think the audience’s gender really has anything to do with the music.” She watched the man’s face fall before she decided to go on. “And I would like to think that at least a few of them are there for me too. You do know I make music too, right?”

An indignant smirk found its way to her lips as the man stammered out, “yes, of course.”

“Okay. I was just wondering since you have only asked me questions about our relationship since we got here.”

She knew Jeff wouldn’t be happy, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less. They may not have really been dating, but the interviewers didn’t know that. All of their dismissal of her and her career was 100% real.

She had been so worked up that she didn’t even realize Harry’s hand had left her knee until it found its way to rest on her back. She leaned into his touch as he rubbed her back softly while she crossed her arms in front of her.

The interviewers looked at the two of them across the table, jaws both lying on the floor. It was quiet until Harry nonchalantly spoke. “She has a point.”

The last few minutes of the interview passed in an awkward blur that felt suffocating. She felt like she could finally take in a deep breath once they were in the back of a massive SUV being driven away from the studio.

“Jeff is going to have my head,” she mumbled under her breath, nose stuck into her phone as she scrolled Twitter to see what people were saying about her outburst. But before she could read any opinions, Harry's tattooed arm blocked her view as he gently pushed her phone down onto her lap.

“Look at me,” he murmured, beckoning her attention to the other side of the back seat. When she connected her eyes with his, his usual calming aura took over her, softening the stressed crease between her brows. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Harry, I just blew my career up into smoke because I couldn’t deal with a rude interviewer,” she huffed at him.

“No,” he disagreed softly, moving the hand that rested on her arms to interlock his fingers with one of hers. “You stuck up for yourself to people who were ignoring your work and whittling you down to your relationship.”

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

The car ride to the venue for that night’s concert was quiet, but Harry never let go of her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting touch. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted him to let go.

***

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the pair returned to their tour bus and went to crawl into their bunks.

Her performance had gone well and Harry was mesmerizing (as always). He was truly hypnotizing to watch while he performed and she hadn’t missed watching him yet, even as they drew close to the end of the tour. It was the best part of her day and she would miss it dearly after the last show.

She was almost asleep, curtain drawn and cuddled under a pile of blankets, when her cell began to ring. Her heart sank, knowing only one person who would know when she had a sliver of free time (even though it’s debatable if sleeping counts as free time). She was going to get scolded like she was a little kid in the principal's office and she knew it.

“Hi Jeff,” she answered with a sigh as she pulled the curtain back and slid from the bunk, the cold air of the tour bus nipping at her legs.

Her gaze was met by a snuggled up Harry wearing a concerned face across from her in his own bed. He never closed the curtain, not even when she asked politely to muffle his snores, always saying something about how it made him claustrophobic. He sent her a tired smile and mouthed “good luck,” extending a hand for a fist bump as she passed. Knocking their knuckles together put a brief smile on her face before she buckled in for the chewing out she was about to get.

Harry watched her intently as she paced up and down the front of the tour bus as she spoke to Jeff, too far away for him to listen in. Her face gradually turned from anxious, to surprised, to something that would have probably been happiness if she wasn’t so tired.

“Alright, thank you for everything.” She spoke softly when she finally returned to be within earshot for him. “Goodnight Jeff.”

“So?” he murmured groggily at her, brows raised in question at her.

“People loved it,” she said shocked, like she didn’t fully believe it herself. “They think I’m some kind of badass for shutting down a sexist. Which is, like, a lot,” she spoke with a disbelieving chuckle, unable to find the right words in her groggy state. “I don’t really know what to make of it.”

Harry seemed to spring up from his spot in his bed, smacking his head on the top of the bunk in the process, prompting them both to dissolve into a puddle of giggles.

“Don’t get too excited for me,” she laughed. “I cannot be the reason that you hurt yourself and have to cancel a show.”

“I was just too excited to say ‘I told you so,’” he smirked, now rubbing the side of his head through his curls.

“Cocky bastard,” she sarcastically murmured under her breath while dramatically rolling her eyes.

She watched with confusion as Harry left his bed, and after a short and frantic search for his pajama pants so he wouldn’t “offend her eyes,” he moved towards the front of the bus. Her eyes trailed him as he bent down to the small mini fridge and pulled out two beers.

“We have to celebrate.”

It was 2 AM and she had been so ready for bed after a long day. But she knew she could never say no to him. She thanked god that they had a day off tomorrow.

After retrieving her massive and lovingly worn Grateful Dead sweatshirt to protect her from the chilly air, she nearly ran to the front of the bus. His painted pink fingers moved with skill as he popped the bottle caps off with one of his rings, handing it to her and gently nudging his bottle against hers.

“Cheers,” he murmured softly as he looked down at her with a kindhearted smile.

“Cheers,” she seemed to whisper back to him, a flutter in her stomach reminding her how badly she wanted to reach out and connect her lips to his. Instead she slid into the small booth across from him, taking a long sip from the bottle as she watched him do the same.

“I want you to know that I was really proud of you today,” he said as he put his beer down on the table. “Rude interviewers are never easy and you handled it like a champ.”

“Thank you, H,” she nodded, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks burned hot as she put all her focus into tracing the rim of the bottle with her finger tip.

“Hey,” he called for her attention and her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I know you do,” she gently nodded at him. “I’m just really happy they didn’t ask about my ex,” she chuckled as she took another sip. “That would have gone very poorly.”

“Oh yeah, I was a little annoyed they brought up my ex but not yours,” he teased. “Not fair if you ask me.”

“Well, then I’m glad no one asked you.”

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

She should have been prepared to talk about it with Harry at some point. Half of this plan had been devised to get back at James anyway. She should be able to talk about it by now, especially with someone she had grown so close to.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, trying to seem casual like the mere mention of him didn’t still hurt her heart a little bit. “What do you want to know?”

“As much as you’re willing to tell me.”

He looked soft like this, eyes slightly sleepy with a tenderness in them as he looked back at her. His hair was unruly and puffy and he was wrapped in the powder blue blanket that lived on the tour bus’ couch. She would have told him anything that he ever wanted to hear if he kept looking like this.

With a deep breath, she began to recount everything that went down.

“I met James while I was still working as a waitress. I recognized him from his movies and started a conversation, and then–to my surprise–he asked me out on a date. I had been in LA for three weeks and this insanely famous actor is asking me to go out with him, so I obviously said yes.” She paused to take a swig of her beer, before mumbling under her breath, “I should have said ‘fuck no’ to that.”

A smile ghosted over her lips as she listened to Harry’s laugh across the table. She swore that laugh could cure cancer.

“But I didn’t,” she continued. “He introduced me to the right people and helped me make the right connections in the industry, which I guess made me feel indebted to him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowed and listening intently.

“I should have broken up with him after I signed with Jeff and the label, however awful that sounds. But he just always knew the right things to say to make me feel special and like I was the most important person in the world. Even after I found out he was talking to other girls, he was somehow able to talk himself out of it.” She shook her head as she recalled it. “You wanna hear something fucked up?”

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

“He proposed to me using lines from a romcom he was working on.”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “Holy shit, you’re kidding!”

“I wish. I didn’t find out until I went with him to the premier a few months later and the proposal scene sounded surprisingly familiar.”

“What a dirtbag.”

“I know, right?” she laughed. “Then a few weeks after that, he got papped with his tongue down another girl’s throat. That finally knocked some sense into me and I ran for the hills.”

“Fuck,” he sighed as he finished his beer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she breathed. “I don’t even feel hurt by him anymore, ya know? I just feel angry at myself for trusting him.”

“I understand but it’s not your fault he was a piece of shit,” he said as he rose from his seat and traveled to the mini fridge once again. “Another?” he asked, holding the bottle up about his head.

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

She watched him skillfully pop off the tops again using just his rings, making a mental note to make him teach her how he did that, before he flopped back down in his seat.  

“At the risk of sounding like a Facebook mom, ‘you grow through what you go through,’” she chuckled, taking another long sip as she finished her first. He matched her high pitched giggle across the table and she nearly drooled beer down her front from smiling so wide.

“Amen, sister,” he agreed, raising his beer in the air.

“Oh, that was awful.” She shook her head as she descended into giggles. “Please never say that again.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway,” she began again after another sip of her drink, “I was well prepared to get my heartbroken by untrustworthy men after you, Styles.”

“I’m offended–tell me more,” he spoke quickly, his signature narcissistic smirk settling onto his features.

“I need you to know that Zayn leaving was my first real heartbreak.”

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

“You weren’t Zayn, I can tell you that.”

“Ouch!” He let out a loud belly laugh.

“Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, H. So first, the hottest-”

“Rude-”

“-I’m speaking. So the hottest one leaves, and then the rest of you are all like ‘we’ll be back in 18 months,’” she mocked him in a high pitched impersonation with a wave, “and then 6 months later you all mysteriously have solo careers.”

“I do not see you complaining about my solo career now, ya fame leetch.” He spoke with such humor and charisma, she couldn’t have even wished to be offended by his joke.

“Absolutely not, sir,” she said sternly, giving him a dramatic salute. “Deepest apologies from the fame leetch.” The two collapsed into giggles, laughing until their sides began to ache.

“Wait, I have a question for mega superstar Mr. Harry Styles of former One Direction fame,” she announced.

“I believe that’s me,” he bowed his head and raised his hand into the hair. “Shoot.”

She barely could get the question out, laughing too hard at her own joke. “Is Taylor Swift a good kisser?”

“Oh god,” he exasperatedly threw his hands in the air, chuckling while rolling his eyes dramatically before grinning wide as he thought over his answer. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he finally smirked.

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

“You think I’m smart?” she teased as she feigned flattery. “Have you ever heard of a song called ‘English Love Affair?’” He narrowed his eyes at her, a knowing smirk crossing his lips as he shook his head at her. “Also, when do I get to meet Gemma?”

“I’ll consider it when you stop bringing up her sex life, perv.”

“We’ve been dating for a few months now,” she teased as she continued to prod, emboldened by the liquid courage running through her veins as she was now half way through her next beer. “I think I should be allowed to meet the family soon. They seem delightful.”

“They would love how you have decided to rip into me like this,” he said with a cheeky smile, dimples on full display.

“Rockstars have to get knocked down a peg every once in a while.” She sarcastically shrugged. “Consider it a favor.”

She couldn’t help but think about how right this felt. Their back and forth flowed so smoothly, the banter falling from their lips without effort. Their laughter joined together in a delightful melody and she imagined they could go on this way all night.

Spending any amount of time with him made her so fucking happy; and time spent teasing each other over beers caused her to nearly explode with joy. How much she was enjoying herself was too hard to put into words.

He was safe and he was kind and he made her laugh no matter how bad his jokes were.

He was her best friend.

And for the first time, she was willing to admit that she was in love with him.

“Harry,” she hummed softly as their laughter died down to a comfortable silence. “Thank you for everything. You’ve changed my life forever and I can never repay you.”

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

“Oh shut up, I’m being serious,” she playfully scolded before letting her tone drop back into honesty. “You’re a very good person and I’m eternally grateful for you letting me be your opening act and then agreeing to this whole relationship charade.”

“I didn’t ‘let’ you be anything, Y/N. I picked you myself.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I listened to your album when it came out and fell in love with it,” he shrugged, his casual tone contradicting the surprised raise of her pulse. “When I found out Jeff also managed you, I knew I had to have you on the tour.”

Y/N was honestly stunned. She had always assumed that the tour was Jeff’s doing, a careful arrangement pairing Full Stop’s new up-and-comer with their most famous and established talent. Being offered the tour had been the biggest opportunity and honor she had ever been presented with; but she had never considered Harry himself being behind it.

“Oh,” was all she could manage to get out.

It was now his turn to be confused. “What’s so surprising about that?” he asked, reading the shock on her face like she was an open book.

“I just,” she stammered, trying to find the words in her slightly hazy state. “I never would have thought you knew who I was or listened to my music.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she trailed off. “You’re you, and I’m just... me, I guess.”

He didn’t respond right away, just looking at her intently and slightly amused, sea glass eyes boring into her with a pink lip held between his teeth.

He scanned her frame, from the way her hair sat messily on top of her head and the way the massive sweatshirt swallowed her body enough to where she had pulled her knees up to her chest underneath it. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, making her appear smaller as she held her legs close to her torso and her eyebrows were knitted together in worry, slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

She downed the rest of her beer in an attempt to forget his intense attention. It didn’t work.

“You really don’t know how incredible you are, do you?” he finally asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile.

She felt her whole body burn with his compliment, wanting to shrink into herself and disappear completely from his view. She finally shook her head slightly in an attempt to deflect his words, breathing his name under her breath as if to scold him for being too kind.

“You are,” he insisted, ignoring her objection. “You’re so talented and your music deserves all the attention that it gets. I am honored that I get to play a part in helping expose the world to you and what you have to offer.”

“Thank you.” Her words came out as a whisper.

“You’re welcome, love.”

His pet name made her stomach turn in a nervous excitement and a wide grin involuntarily came to her lips.

“I like it when I make you smile like that.” His words only made her beam further. “You look very pretty when you smile.”

“Stop it,” she said softly, cheeks burning hot and having a hard time making eye contact with him.

“Stop what?” He feigned innocence as he lightly teased her, smirk still prominent on his features.

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

His words rang through her mind long after they had left the table and crawled back into their bunks for the night. She wished she could see inside his head to understand whatever thoughts were running around his brain.

But for now she could just peak at him through the gap she had purposely left in her curtain, wondering if she ever popped into his dreams as he slept.

He was always in hers.

***

There was a sadness mixed in with her usually thrilled mood as she took the stage for the last show of the tour. While there was an element of relief as she looked forward to some well needed rest, the adrenaline and joy of being in front of a crowd was something that she would miss dearly. She had grown into a real performer over the last two months as they zig-zagged across the US and this period of time would have a special place in her heart long after it had ended.

But there was another reason why she was so sad to see this chapter come to an end. As far as she knew, a staged breakup was not far away and the thought of being without Harry was heartbreaking. He had become her person and soon their feux falling out would be on the front page of every magazine. She wanted nothing more in the world than for their relationship to be real, but it would be forced to end before it had even truely started.

She got choked up as she sang her final song that night, letting a few tears escape as she took in the thousands of people singing her lyrics back to her, flashlights swaying in the air to the beat of the music. Taking a move from Harry’s own playbook, she took her mic and directed it to the crowd to sing as she cried. The vibrations of the drums and bass behind her nestled it’s way into her bones and the chorus of singing voices in the crowd surrounded her in a bittersweet melody.

The past two months she had been on top of the world, and as soon as this song finished, it was the beginning of the end.

She took her final bow, watching as the small tears fell forward onto the dusty stage below her. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, then nearly ran off the stage looking for the only person she wanted to see.

Harry was right where he always was, just out of view behind the curtain, holding his arms out for her to fall into.

“Awe, babe,” he hummed sympathetically when she settled her head onto his chest, surely ruining his crisp white t-shirt with her now wet makeup. “It’s okay. Final shows are always tough.” He rubbed her back gently, in a soothing rhythm.

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

She tilted her head up to connect her glassy eyes with his. “I just don’t want this all to end.” She knew she wasn’t just talking about the tour.

“Neither do I,” he said as his lips curved into a devilish smirk that sent her heart into palpitations. “That’s why I have one last surprise for you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed while wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. “What have you done?”

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

“Not surprises in front of 20,000 people!”

“I promise you’re going to love this one, okay?” His voice was softer now, encouraging and supportive. “You’re going to come out and sing an extra song with me during my set,” he revealed.

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

“I just finished sobbing. I can’t go out there like this.”

“You can fix your makeup. I believe in you.”

“What am I going to wear?” she asked, grasping at straws at this point, doing anything she could to get out of this.

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

She peppered him with a few more questions, but he had a smooth and charming answer to every single one. He had thought every detail out, and as always, she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine,” she finally exasperatedly agreed, immediately met with his excited and dimpled smile that she had fallen head over heels for.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “I have to go get ready and so do you. I already put everything you need in your dressing room, okay?” She nodded, still biting her lip anxiously. He held her by her shoulders, lowering his head to match their eye level as he leaned in close, before he spoke. “You’re going to have fun. I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

Seconds after they locked their little fingers together, he pressed a quick and protective kiss to her forehead that set her whole body ablaze before running off in the direction of his dressing room. She remained stunned and frozen in her spot for a few moments trying to process what it felt like to have his lips on her for the first time since that very first day they had met.

There was no audience to perform it for or an act to keep up behind the curtain. He kissed her because he wanted to.

She was finally snapped out of her daze when a stagehand bumped into her by accident, prompting her to begin the short walk back to her dressing room. But the ghost of his lips remained on her forehead, an incessant tingle placed there by his touch.

The dress she found waiting for her was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever set her eyes on. Made of a light purple chiffon, the wrap dress’ long sleeves and floor length skirt flowed freely. A belt cinched the wispy fabric close to her waist and a deep-v exposed her neck and chest. But the most dazzling part of the dress were the red sequined hearts that dotted the fabric and reflected the light of the dressing room like a million little mirrors.

Slipping into it, the light fabric was soft against her skin, opaque enough but still slightly sheer to let light through and show off her legs and the bright red shiny pumps Lambert had left for her. She felt the most beautiful she had ever felt in this dress, boosting her confidence and quelling her nerves about whatever the hell Harry was planning.

“One minute to curtain,” was announced in an ominous voice over the arena’s backstage speakers as she finished fixing her makeup and she all but ran to make it back to the stage in time. She only had one more chance to watch him perform and she refused to miss a second of it.

Harry dazzled as the lights focused in on him, his deep blue and fully sequined suit reflecting the light and turning him into a human disco ball. He stood close to the edge of the stage as the beginning notes of the first song began being played by the band, but he made no move towards his mic stand to sing. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched to the audience, taking in every scream, every tear, and the thunderous shake of the building; but also giving himself to them.

Then the show began. As usual, he was electric, but tonight was like he had turned himself up to eleven. Every note he sang was full of his heart and every dance move was done with his entire body, even his bad jokes seemed funnier tonight.

She was so mesmerized she almost forgot about his ‘surprise.’ Almost.

“Since tonight is unfortunately our last show,” he pouted. “I thought I would do something special,” he spoke to the crowd as they roared, but quickly connected his eyes with her’s in the wings. By the smirk plastered on his face, she knew she was in for it.

“I recently found out that someone very close to me was a very big fan of…” he trailed off as he dramatically pretended to search for the right words, “my previous work.” He finished with a smirk and his words prompted the loudest reaction since he had been on stage.

“Now, I told her that she would be coming on stage to join me tonight, but I didn’t exactly tell her what we would be singing and I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, so cut us some slack if we mess up. This is very unrehearsed.” He kept sneaking glances back to her, as her eyes grew wider at the stunt he was currently pulling. “But I know for a fact that she knows all the words. I listen to her sing them in the shower quite often.” He wore a cheeky dimpled grin as he looked back at her once again.

The building was shaking due to the suspense he was creating, and looking down at her hands, she realized she was to. She gripped hard onto the mic a stagehand had just shoved at her, pleading with her hands to stop their tremors.

“Now, I would love it if you could all give another warm welcome to one of my favorite people on the planet, Y/N Y/L/N!” He turned his body to her for a final time, extending his hand out for her to take. Her legs felt like jello as she walked out into the bright lights towards him, interlocking her fingers with his as a way to keep her on her feet.

The audience’s screams were deafening at seeing the two of them together and she thanked god she had her earpieces in to protect her ear drums or they would have surely burst. She could only imagine the articles that would be written about this and the thousands of tweets that were probably already being sent.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” she mouthed at him threateningly, but she couldn’t even get through the sentence before his dazzling smile began to quell her anxiety.

“The look on your face is 100% worth getting my ass kicked,” he answered smoothly before turning his attention back to the audience. “Everyone, sing along if you know the words,” he commanded their attention. “This is Ready to Run.”

Her jaw dropped and the crowd roared as the band behind her began to play the first few chords of the song she loved and knew so well. She had admitted it a few days ago that it was one of her favorites of his ‘previous work,’ but apparently he already knew that from the few showers she had taken on the tour bus.

“There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny,” he began by himself, her brain still too shocked to jump in yet. He sang the first few lines to her with a giant grin plastered on his face, hand still holding tight to hers. His eyes had a playful glint in them that seemed to say ‘just have fun.’

“There’s a devil in your smile, it’s chasing me,” she finally began to sing, Harry fading his voice out so she could take the next few lines by herself as he admired her.

He did have a devilish smile, but it was one she loved with her entire heart. As she began to sing, she felt her muscles begin to relax into the song she had sung to herself so many times before, letting her body begin to bounce to the growing rhythm as her dress flowed around her.

The stage vibrated as Sarah beat her drums to introduce the chorus. “This time I’m ready to run, escape from the city and follow the sun,” the pair sang together, eyes still locked as their voices combined into the most perfect tune. “Cause I wanna be yours, don’t you wanna be mine?” they continued the lyrics. She felt herself meaning the words leaving her mouth more and more as they went on. She did want to be his, she couldn’t deny that. “I don’t wanna get lost in the dark of the night.”

Her apprehensiveness eased further as the music picked up and the hook went on, finally allowing herself to have a bit of fun. “Wherever you are is the place I belong,” they insisted towards each other, leaning in close before Harry grabbed her hand to dramatically spin her, the beautiful shining fabric of her dress splaying out around her. The next line was mumbled through giggles by both of them, but their laughter only added to the perfect moment they were having.

They danced across the stage together like there weren’t 20,ooo pairs of eyes watching them, both singing their hearts out to each other. It began to feel like they weren’t even there. It was just Y/N and Harry, serenading each other to one of her favorite songs.

“There’s a future in my eyes I can’t foresee,” she sang to him to start the second verse.

“Unless, of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me.” Harry grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into his side as he sang the words, prompting more giggles from her. She loved the way he smiled so wide as he sang, never breaking his eye contact with her and emitting pure joy. His eyes looked honest as he sang, like he meant every word just as much as she did.

The pair made their way through the rest of the verse and second chorus, flawlessly moving around the stage like they owned it. Y/N selfishly decided to let him have the bridge all to himself, needing to hear the way his beautiful voice hit the high notes. “This time I’m ready to run,” he sang passionately, executing the downward moving riff perfectly. “I’d give everything that I got for your love,” he pointed across the stage towards her, beckoning her back close to him. She quickly skipped to him at his request.

Like she had blinked, the song was already nearing its end.

“Cause I wanna be free and I wanna be young, I’ll never look back now I’m ready to run,” they belted the last lines out to each other. The band fell quiet on their last chord and the crowd exploded, but their noise fell on deaf ears as the pair stood so close their heaving chests were almost pressed up against each other. His eyes stared down into hers and she watched as his eyes flickered quickly down to her lips.

The world ceased to exist when he pressed his mouth to hers, even if it only lasted a second. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was everything to her. Her body igniting with heat and eyes full of shock, she looked back at him in simultaneous confusion and adoration, before realizing they had been staring at each other for too long. She needed to get off the stage so he could continue with his show. She walked back slowly towards the wings, letting the hand he had still been holding fall to her side. She waved and smiled to the crowd the best she could in her clouded mind.

“Thank you everyone!” she shouted into her mic as she moved out of their view. She shoved her mic into the first set of hands that would take it as she wobbled her way over to a table with water bottles. She nearly choked as she tried to suck one down, hoping it would ease the dizzy feeling he had created with his lips. Her lips burned just as her forehead had earlier in the night.

He had kissed her. He had sang a love song with her and then he had kissed her. She couldn’t decipher if that kiss was a confirmation that he shared the same feelings for her or if it was just another act for the cameras. But his mouth felt so right against hers. They fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. She tried to suppress the optimistic hope that rose in her chest, but it began to swallow her whole.

When she heard his next song begin, she made her way back to the spot that had become hers at the side of the stage. She watched him perform the rest of the show in a loving haze, doe eyed and hypnotized, lips still buzzing from his contact.

He gave it his all. By the last song he was out of breath, drenched in sweat, and looked like he was about to pass out at any second. The crowd applauded for minutes after he left the stage and they were still cheering when she finally caught sight of him again. His curls were stuck to his forehead and his skin was shiny and flushed. He was panting, still trying to recover from his workout of a finale show; but he was beaming. His smile seemed to turn him into a beacon, emitting a light and positive energy that drew everyone backstage towards him.

She was so transfixed on Harry as he thanked the crew and accepted congratulations from all around that she just about jumped out of her skin when Jeff slinked up behind her and whispered ‘boo’ in her ear.

“What the fuck, Jeff,” she chuckled as she caught her breath, resting her hand on her chest and feeling her racing heartbeat.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on being half of the best fake couple out there,” he teased. “That kiss was perfect. People are losing their minds over it.”

“Oh,” she said softly, feeling every emotion she was distracted from while watching Harry rush back into her. Her heart sank as she remembered all the questions that continued to haunt her since she got off stage. “Thanks,” she murmured, plastering a smile onto her face. “I’m glad we could make you proud.”

“If you two could convince me, you can convince anyone.” Jeff walked off moments later, leaving her to sit in her confused thoughts as he disappeared into the hoards of bodies waiting for their minute with Harry.

She knew that she didn’t ‘convince’ Jeff of anything on her part. Everything she did with Harry was authentic and truthful. Including the thrilled grin that appeared on her face when she finally made eye contact with the exhausted man across the room. She gave him a shy wave that he sheepishly returned, biting back a shy smile. He pointed in the direction of his dressing room and mouthed “meet me in 15.”

She could never say no to him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on the large wooden door that had a single piece of paper that read STYLES haphazardly taped onto it. When it finally flew open, she was met by a soaking wet Harry with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his body without permission, taking in the toned torso that was decorated with his beautiful tattoos. Her eyes hovered over the two ferns that sat on his pelvis, too fascinated with the dark ink to pull her eyes away just yet.

She had obviously seen him in various states of undress before. They lived together on a tour bus without much space to exist with privacy, but this was different. He wasn’t rushing to get dressed or quickly changing his outfit. And he wasn’t moving away from her gaze at all.

If she hadn’t been so entranced by him, she would have noticed he was looking her up and down in the exact same manner.

She had changed since she had seen him last. The skin-tight black velvet romper she had brought along for the afterparty now fit her snuggly and held her every curve. The dark fabric was tight and appeared almost painted on, a rainbow racing stripe making its way down either side of her chest. The short shorts of the outfit exposed nearly all of her legs and the deep neckline put much of her chest on display as well. It’s long sleeves were her favorite part, as a strip of fringe dangled from below her arms any time she moved.

“You look great,” Harry finally choked out, his voice pulling their eyes back up to the other’s face.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, slightly awkwardly. “You too.”

“Well, I’m hopefully not going to the after party dressed like this,” he chuckled before stepping aside and ushering her into the room.

His dressing room was much larger than hers and she settled herself on the brown leather couch in the corner as she waited for him to get ready, sneaking glances up from her phone often. She chuckled as she watched him spend far too long fussing with his curls in the mirror, but was quickly distracted by the way his back and arms flexed when he reached up to muse his hair. Once he was satisfied with the way it fell, he disappeared into the bathroom at the back of the room. When he emerged, he was finally dressed, allowing her to take a deep breath and to focus on something other than his bare skin for the first time since he had opened the door.

The black satin suit was simple for him, but the tight white tank top that sat underneath hugged every muscle in his torso. She knew as soon as he got in the hot club, he would lose the jacket, and she would be devastatingly distracted once again.

The narcissist took one final look at himself in the mirror before turning to her and extending a hand. “Ready, darling?”

“You just spent 15 minutes exclusively on your hair and you’re asking me if I’m ready?” she teased as she took his hand, weaving her fingers between his as they exited the room together.

He leaned down close to her ear as they walked down the now mostly empty hallway, lips brushing over the hollow of her ear as he spoke. “I could have done it faster, but you were so obviously enjoying the show.”

“Relax yourself, Magic Mike,” she muttered indignantly, but hung her head in a way she hoped he couldn’t see how flustered he made her. Was she really that obvious?

They walked hand in hand out to the parking garage, now caught in a back and forth about whether or not Harry could be a male stripper. He said yes. She said no, although she did admit at one point that he worked his mic stand like a pole.

“Hey Jeff,” he called when they finally reached the parking garage where Jeff and Glenne had been waiting for them to head to the club. “Do you think I could be a stripper?”

“I think people would pay a lot to see it, but they may be disappointed in your dancing skills.”

“Come on,” he playfully whined. “I have some moves.”

“You have one move,” Y/N cut in with a chuckle, “and it’s the wiggle.” She brought her hands up near her chest, tilted her head back while dramatically biting her lip, and swayed her arms by her sides, earning a chorus of laughter from the people around her.

She hadn’t even realized she had done the move without releasing Harry’s hand first, dragging his arm into her dance as well, until their manager commented on it. “You know, you two don’t have to be holding hands all the time and keeping the show up back here,” he said with a slightly suspicious quirk in his eyebrows.

Her smile had been in the process of fading, like they had been caught doing something wrong, before Harry answered smoothly. “We know. Just practicing.”

There were those words again. Just practicing, she thought over to herself. But was he practicing anymore? How many flirty comments, heartfelt compliments, and warm touches did it take to cross the line of practicing to the real thing?

She wasn’t sure about Harry, but she knew that she wasn’t just practicing anymore.

She knew that the way they sat nearly on top of each other in the large SUV on the way to the club felt more than friendly. And the way he hadn’t stopped touching her in some way since they left his dressing room insinuated far more than something with business-like intentions. And the way he looked at her everytime he caught her eye the entire way to the club, always with a bright smile and adoring gaze that she always returned, pulled at her heartstrings far more than they should have if this was all an act.

A sloppy and cheeky grin settled almost permanently on his features after he had a few drinks in him, his arms moving in a lazy and fluid manner as she took in his many tattoos that he had exposed when he ditched his jacket (just like she knew he would). His butterfly was visible through the tight ribbed fabric of the white tank top and the little birds that peaked out from underneath seemed to be inviting her even closer to him in her now inebriated state.

All she wanted to do was to connect her lips with his as she watched him make conversation with someone from his management, entranced by the way his perfect mouth moved as he spoke. She once again craved the shocks of electricity that were created between them at the contact and could not stop thinking about it no matter how hard she tried. The protective hand that had settled onto her hip and continued to hold her close to his body just wasn’t enough anymore.

The pair had been drinking far too much; martinis turning into vodka sodas that had turned into straight tequila shots. She believed it was tequila shot four that did her in. The last thing she remembered was licking the line of salt off the back of her hand, downing the shot, and being entranced by Harry’s eyes as she bit down on the slice of lime he held carefully with his jeweled fingers.  

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up in a hotel room that she didn’t recognize with a pounding headache and a swirling gut. It felt like she had been hit with a truck and she could barely pick her head up off the pillow.

She had so many questions about what had happened the night before. Where was she? Who let her drink that much? Whose clothes was she wearing? But most of all, what the hell happened after that fourth shot?

But she realized the worst was yet to come when she heard soft snoring coming from beside her. She knew that snoring well. It was the snoring that kept her up half the night for the last two months and the one that had almost driven her to suffocating her bus-mate in his sleep; the snoring that matched the crumbled black suit she just noticed in a ball on the floor.

It took every ounce of strength in her body to pull herself from the pillow and turn around in the bed to have her suspicions confirmed.

There he was.

His dark long eyelashes were fluttered down across the tops of his cheeks and his hair was going in every direction, skin clammy like his body was trying to rid itself of all the poison he had ingested the night before. The crumpled comforter was pushed down his stomach, his bare skin holding a sheen that helped define every dip or curve of his muscles and the tiniest bit of the band of his boxers peaked out to assure her that he at least wasn’t fully naked next to her.

Why were they in bed together? And why did he look so good? Oh my god, she thought as a possibility dawned on her. Did we sleep together?

“Harry,” she murmured softer than she intended, voice scratchy and mouth dry. The soreness at the back of her throat clued her into the copious amounts of screaming she must have done last night. He didn’t stir at her gentle coaxing, the light streaming through the windows making him look angelic as it covered him in a blanket of soft light while he continued to sleep.

It was a hard nudge to his chest that finally made him open his eyes, immediately releasing a groan she was sure she made when she regained consciousness too. He looked at her puzzled, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. He took an equally confused look around the hotel room before looking back at her. She watched as the gears slowly turned in his head until his eyes opened wide and he spring up into a sitting position to mirror hers.

“We didn’t,” he whispered hopefully. “Oh my god, did we?” he asked, a look of horror crossing his face that matched her own.

“I have no idea,” she anxiously replied. “I was hoping you would know!”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“The last thing I remember was doing tequila shots with you.”

“I remember those.” He rubbed his eyes hard like it would somehow jog his memory. His eyebrows knit together, buried in thought as he searched his brain for a timeline. “I can follow the night up until we did karaoke.”

“We did karaoke?” she repeated incredulously and was met with a somber nod. “Do I even want to know what we sang?”

He shook his head slowly, shame clear on his face, before he finally mumbled. “We did ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

“Oh my god, no,” she whined, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. There were surely videos of them sloppily singing on top of a bar circulating online and she wasn’t sure how Jeff would be able to spin that one in a positive light.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye as he reached for his own. “Maybe there’s something on there that can clue us in.” It took her a moment but she finally spotted it on the ground in the corner of the room. She said a silent prayer that it wasn’t dead or broken.

Forcing her heavy limbs out from under the covers she made her way towards the device, but not before she heard a confused sound coming from Harry. “How did you get my clothes?”

Looking down at herself and taking in the red lettering that read But Daddy I Love Him across her chest, it clicked that the t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts were his. But how they hell did she get into them?

“I think we’ve established at this point that I don’t know anything that happened after about midnight, Harry.” Her words came out laced with slight frustration. She hoped he knew she wasn’t annoyed with him, just their situation.

“Just a question, princess.”

She ignored his quip and began to search through her texts, call history, and photos, hoping to find anything at all that could help trace their steps through the night. She found nothing but a few selfies of them still at the club. One was the pair casually smiling, the next was one of him kissing her on the cheek that made her skin warm, but the final one made her snort out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a picture on my phone of you with two martini olives shoved up your nose,” she spoke through hysterical laughter. “Definitely birthday post material if you ask me.”

“Let me see,” he demanded with an adorable scowl.

She passed her phone over to him, still letting a few chuckles fall past her lips. “I’m gonna change your name in my phone to ‘Olive Nose Styles.”

“You're cruel.”

“You’re the one that put olives up his nose and then posed for a picture!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning attention back to his own screen to continue his investigation. “There’s nothing of use on my phone either.”

The two flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the frustrated confusion. There was so much of their night that had gone up into smoke, completely unaccounted for with no clues as to what they did. Each traced their steps over and over again in their heads as they hoped desperately for a single detail that would lead them down a path to bigger memories, but it never came.

“Are we going to have to call Jeff and ask him what happened?” she finally murmured.

“I think so.”

“He’s going to put us both in client timeout, isn’t he?”

“We’re probably already there,” he groaned as he picked up his phone and hit Jefe Jeff-e in his contact list, putting the call on speaker and resting it on his still bare chest. The man on the other end picked up almost immediately.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.”

“Hi Jeff,” he groggily started then stopped, searching for the words that would make this all less uncomfortable. “Y/N and I have some questions about last night.”

Jeff let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me after last night’s bar bill.”

“Um,” Harry hummed, stammering but unable to form any real words.

“You sing about sex for a living,” she hissed at the man next to her before yanking the phone off his chest. “Jeff,” she started, taking over the conversation for them both. “Do you know if we slept together?”

“Probably not. You both were pretty unconscious when I put you in the hotel room.” His words prompted a massive sigh from both of them, looking to each other to share a relieved smile.

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

“Jinx,” he smirked under his breath, prompting a ‘shut up’ from her.

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

“I stopped by the tour bus when I realized you two probably shouldn’t be trusted not to roll out of your top bunks. I got you some clothes to sleep in before we took you guys to the hotel.”

“But why Harry’s?”

It was Jeff’s term to get squirmy. “I felt weird going through your things.”

“But you were perfectly fine with going through mine?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. They were all quiet for a moment before Jeff began again. “You two really don’t remember anything else that happened?”

“Everything after about two is unaccounted for,” she confessed.

“Oh,” Jeff chuckled. “So, you don’t remember when you stuck your tongues down each other’s throats on the ride home?”

Fuck.

Her eyes raced up to Harry’s from the phone she had been staring at like it held all the secrets of the night before. His easily readable features displayed all his emotions that surely matched hers. His pupils had grown in surprise, taking over nearly all the green in his wide eyes, and an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks in a red hot flush that had reached the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to the blank wall in front of them, running a stressed hand through his curls, like if he wasn’t looking at her, he would be able to focus better on the newly revealed information.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t relate. Her mind often went blank when she looked at him too. But right now, it was racing, occupied by anxious thoughts and intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, but felt with her entire being.

Her inevitable downward spiral was interrupted when Harry stiffly cleared his throat. “Uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good, love birds,” Jeff replied, a clear snark apparent in his voice. Neither of the pair dignified his teasing with a response, Y/N quickly ending the call.

Silence hung heavy in the air and she let her eyes hover over the phone for too long when she settled it down on the bed, unwilling to connect her eyes with his just yet. Harry always had a way of staring into her and revealing all her cards to him before she even knew them herself. She wanted to hold them close to her chest for a moment, protecting the heart that longed for him more than anything else in the world.

There were no words exchanged between the two for a while as they silently took turns in the bathroom and occupied their hands and thoughts by their phones. They walked on eggshells anytime one neared the other. A tension like this hadn’t existed since the very first day they met, the first day they had begun to pretend.

Maybe that's why Harry was being so quiet. Maybe he never wanted to cross that line of pretending like she did. Maybe she had been blinded by his generally friendly personality and tricked herself into thinking there was anything more than a charade between them. Maybe last night really was just a drunken mistake, no matter how much she wanted it to be more.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t remember what happened last night,” she finally murmured from the opposite end of the room. She rested the side of her still heavy head and muscles against the wall, arms crossed in front of her as if they could keep her safe from the tension they had created. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of his t-shirt she was still dressed in.

“Why is it a good thing?” he almost immediately responded from the chair on the other side of the room he had settled himself into, running his hands along the satin pants of last night’s outfit he had put back on during their awkward shuffling around the room. He had even put physical space between them since they found out what happened, causing her heart to feel as if it was teetering on the edge of disintegrating.

“Well,” she stuttered, refusing to look at him and continuing to pick at her nail polish. “We’re just pretending so it would be weird if we really remembered it.”

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

“I don’t know,” she tried to maneuver her way around his response. “It might just be embarrassing to think about it.”

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. There was so much going on behind his eyes and she wished he would say something, anything, to break down the wall that hadn’t existed between them in months that was slowly reappearing.

“Do you regret it?” he asked bluntly, the abrupt question shocking her body to attention. “Do you regret any of this? Any of us?”

Did she regret drinking too much? Yes. Did she regret making out with him in front of their manager? Yes. Did she regret denying her feelings and pretending they didn’t exist for so long? Of course. But, did she regret falling in love with him? Never, not even for a second.

“No, I don’t,” she let out with a gentle shake of her head, no louder than a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

The words had barely left his lips before he crossed the room and crashed them into hers. The same fire she had felt on stage returned ten times over as his lips moved smoothly over hers, every neuron in her body lighting up like a switchboard. Her fingers reached up to curl into his hair and pull his lips impossibly closer to hers as her heart hammered in her chest with a passionate love she had kept under wraps for so long.

He tasted like the spicy peppermint toothpaste the hotel stocked in the bathroom and smelled like the tiny bottles of shampoo that rested on the side of the bathtub; but there was so much else about him that was completely unique–wholly irreplaceable and indescribable. He was just Harry.

Teeth clashed, lips were bitten, and hair was pulled as they took in every sensation the other created. His lips had been the only thought that captivated her mind since they were on stage the night before and her return to them did not disappoint. If her head wasn’t dizzy and her lungs not screaming at her for air, she would have stayed in that moment forever

When they finally disconnected, they stood against each other in a heaving and disheveled mess of heavy breathing and adoringly dazed smiles. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips that rested on his chest.

“That was nice,” he eventually murmured down at her through heavy breaths, a love drunk grin finding its way onto his swollen lips.

“Yeah, I agree,” she hummed breathlessly, her anxious thoughts quiet and calm for the first time she could remember since she met him.

“I’m kind of disappointed I don’t remember doing that the first time,” he chuckled softly at her, shaking his head lightly in embarrassment with his pink tinged cheeks on full display.

“That’s okay. We were ‘just practicing’ then, right?” A giggle left her lips as she used the words against him. The same words he had used every time they let a glimpse of their true affections for each other slip past their guarded and friendly facade.

His dimples were exposed when he smiled a giant grin and let out a knowing huff, piecing together that she had caught onto his trail of excuses. “Yeah, just practicing,” he repeated softly, before his tone turned sincere and genuine. “I don’t want us to pretend anymore.”

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers slid up his neck to beckon his lips back down to hers. “I never was.”

“Neither was I.” She watched a soft smirk appear on his lips as they hovered over hers. “Do you want to keep not practicing?”

“Depends,” she quipped, lips brushing over his as she spoke. “Am I better kisser than Taylor Swift?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!! 

An extra for our babies can be found here!

[twwpress]

Creator Spotlight #16: imperfectirises

Welcome back to the TWW Author Spotlight! For every spotlight, we’ll ask each featured author the same ten questions (as well as questions you submitted on Twitter!). This week we’re thrilled to be talking with @_alexandrarando (on Twitter, imperfectirises on AO3)!

1) What are your top 5 desert island fics by other authors?

“So It Goes” by nomadicwriter https://archiveofourown.org/works/47601/chapters/62375

“As Long As There Are Stars” by nomadicwriter https://archiveofourown.org/works/49650/chapters/65266

“Tomorrow” by Pollygw https://archiveofourown.org/works/15103847/chapters/35022290

“Rainy Zurich” by jimhopper https://archiveofourown.org/works/37466461

“A Difficult Journey: Bringing Abbey Home” by Babyphd https://archiveofourown.org/works/32342320/chapters/80176279

2) Do you have a favorite character to write? Favorite ship(s) to write? Are there characters or ships you'd like to write more of? 

Abbey Bartlet is my favourite character to write. I’ve always been drawn to her dynamic and feisty attitude. I think she’s one of the strongest female characters in the series, and is the backbone of the administration.

My favourite ship is Jed and Abbey. I love how the series explores what happens behind the doors of the White House and the relationship between the President and First Lady. It always baffled me that Aaron Sorkin didn’t write a backstory for Jed and Abbey, he just wrote the episodes as they came. But Martin Sheen and Stockard Channing’s chemistry is so beautiful and enticing, it makes you wonder about their backstory.

I definitely want to write more about Mrs Landingham, CJ, Leo and The Bartlet Daughters. 

 3) Tell us about your writing process (setup/location? Night or day? Snacks/beverages? Computer/phone/notebook? Music or silence? Anything else you want to share is welcome!) 

I usually write on my laptop or in a notebook. I like writing in my room or in other places like cafes. I don’t mind listening to music while I’m writing. I usually make a playlist dedicated to the character I’m writing for and it helps build on the inspiration for the piece. 

 4) What writing advice do you have for others who may be reading this? 

My advice is to write. Keep a journal, or set up a pinterest board for inspiration. The creative process is entirely up to you, but if you set aside some time once a week to write, or even plan your story, then you’ll see where it leads you.

5) From where do you usually draw your inspiration? (Other forms of media, music, tropes, etc?) 

When writing a fic, I usually draw inspiration from watching the series or returning to certain scenes which may spark an interesting writing idea. I’m also inspired by the characters and the actors who portray them. For my fic,  “Miracle”, I drew inspiration from one of Stockard Channing’s films where she tackles motherhood and postpartum depression. I loved her performance in “Unexpected Family” and “Unexpected Life” and automatically pictured Jed and Abbey in this alternative universe, where they were expecting another child and how it affects the administration and their private lives.

Miracle: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40434726/chapters/101293683

6) What is the fic you've written that you're most proud of and why? 

I am so proud of “Miracle”. I originally planned to write a few chapters, but then it expanded to 20 chapters.  In this story, Abbey finds herself pregnant and while it’s surprising and joyous news for The Bartlet’s, Abbey’s postnatal period plays a huge impact on her personal and professional life. I’m proud of this story because it shows Abbey continuing to be strong and resilient while her life is constantly changing. It’s taking the “what if” for a spin and exploring how the dawn of the 24 hour media cycle can place pressure on people in the spotlight.

Miracle: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40434726/chapters/101293683 

 7) What's the fic trope/concept/AU you'd read 1000 of? What's the fic trope/concept/AU you'd write 1000 of? 

Love reading CJ and Toby fics, Jed and Abbey prequel stories and stories set after the Bartlet administration. 

 8) Is there anything you'd like to try writing-wise that you haven't yet? 

I would like to attempt a post canon fic. 

 9) What's your go-to Starbucks/coffee shop/other drink order? 

Coffee order varies from Lattes to Mocha. But I usually drink English Breakfast, Peppermint or Chai tea. 

 10) Do you have any current projects you'd like to promote or anything upcoming you'd like to tell us about?

After “Two Cathedrals” we saw a young Jed Bartlet, but it broke my heart that we didn’t see a young Abbey Bartlet.. After finishing the series for the second time, I was inspired to write their prequel story about how Jed met Abbey and withdrew his ambitions to become a Priest.

I'm enjoying the research stage and going back to certain Jed and Abbey scenes to link back to their prequel story. It’s great to be creative with this story and write about what Jed and Abbey were like in College and how their decisions impacted their lives. What I would love people to take away from “Wait For Me” is to watch the show and think back to this story and see a connection to the canon storyline.

Wait For Me: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40597572/chapters/101714730 

Submitted questions:

From @S4MWILS0N:

fave ship, platonic duo, plot arc? Fave ship:Jed and Abbey

Platonic ship/friendship: Jed and Mrs Landingham 

Plot arc: Abbey forfeiting her medical license and

easiest character voice to write? Mrs Landingham

funniest one liner? “Can we have a civilisation!” 

saddest scene? The montage scene with Zoey’s photos and The Bartlet’s going to Church at the end of Season 5 Episode 1: 7A WF 83429 

fave outfit, side character, monologue? Fave outfit: Abbey’s blue evening gown from Season 6 Episode 7: A Change is Gonna Come

Side character: Margaret

Monologue: Jed’s monologue in Season 2 Episode 22: Two Cathedrals 

most underrated and overrated eps? Underrated: Season 6 Episode 9: Impact Winter

Overrated: don’t have one

craziest au idea you’ve ever had ? Seeing Martin Sheen in Grace and Frankie just makes me think of Jed and Leo being together. 

what media do u think would have a good crossover with tww? Grey’s Anatomy or Veep

 From @mlea7675: What drew you to Jed/Abbey in particular? Was there a particular episode or moment that sealed the deal?

While I was watching The West Wing, I was always drawn to Jed and Abbey. I found them so interesting and inspiring to watch, and being a fan of Stockard Channing, I knew I had to explore more of Abbey and her relationship with Jed.  What makes Abbey so fantastic is her strength, intelligence and beauty. I really admire all these qualities and being a fan of this show for 14 years, it’s always remained part of my life.

One moment which really stands out for me is the episode where Jed tells Abbey he could’ve been an astronaut. I love this scene because it’s hilarious and the exchange between Martin and Stockard is perfect! But in this small scene, the audience continues to see how strong their bond is as a couple.

Another episode which cements my love for them, is the moment Jed can’t put his pants on and asks Abbey to help him. Jed then says to Abbey “So this is why they make you take vows.”

Thanks again to alexandra for participating, and thanks to everyone who asked questions! If you’d like to be featured in an upcoming Creator Spotlight, message us here on tumblr, email weeklypressbriefing@gmail.com, or DM us on twitter (@twwpress). 

xx, What’s next?

[youngbeezer]

having twins with nathan mackinnon ❋

(none of these pics are mine// found on pinterest)

HC; What it would be like to have twins with Nathan Mackinnon would include. . .

below the cut 

you and nathan weren’t actively trying, but weren’t not trying so when you found out you were pregnant it still definitely came as a shock (a good one!)

you are absolutely horrible at keeping a secret so as soon as nate came home from morning skate you ended up just blurting it out to him

he was definitely caught off guard and a little speechless for a moment

but eventually it registered into his brain and as soon as it did, he throws his arms around you pulling you into his embrace

“babe are you serious? you’re pregnant?”

“yup. you’re finally living up to your nickname ‘mack daddy’”

“oh my god”

…

now one baby was quite the surprise in itself but when you guys found you were having twins?!

nate about damn near fainted after seeing the ultrasound

after letting the news really sink in, and having a very long and important conversation.. you two were ecstatic about your quickly growing family

you tell both your parents right away

and nate being nate, literally just posts a picture of the sonogram on his instagram with no explanation

cale is the one to notice commenting, ‘um idk if you know this but there are two little blobs on there’

thus the team group chat blowing up with congrats and playful chirps

…

when it comes to the actual giving birth part, you ended up having to get a c-section which is very common with having twins

you were absolutely terrified but nate was right there by your side the entire time with his cute shower cap thing, holding onto your hand for dear life

he definitely shed a few tears when he heard your babies cries for the first time and when he got to cut the umbilical cord

and when he got to hold them for the first time? oh man you swooned at the sight— like his big ass arms holding these tiny delicate little babies ah!

nate is super careful with them (and lowkey a little scared he would hurt them) and once your guys’ parents come, he would let them hold the babies as he went and doted on you and made sure you were feeling okay

…

nate is an amazing twins dad

you guys got the hang of it pretty quickly and since it was the off-season you were both able to fully invest your time and effort into figuring out the ins and outs of parenthood

with hockey early morning practices, different time zones and lots of naps: nate’s sleep schedule was kind of all over the place to begin with so a lot of the time he was the one who got up in the middle of the night to check on the twins

“go back to sleep baby, i got them.”

“are you sure? you did it last night as well.”

“of course. i want to get all the time in with them as i can before the season starts back up.”

speaking of the season, nate was absolutely devastated when he had to leave you alone with them for the very first time

he flew his parents out to denver to help you out since he felt bad about having to leave

“nate everything will be fine. go, you’re gonna be late for your flight.”

“i know, i know. it’s just hard to leave you guys.”

“i’ll send you bunch of pictures and you can facetime us whenever you’re free.”

“okay… you two better promise me that you won’t walk until i’m here in person, you got it?”

“babe they’re 4 months old.”

“you never know”

anyway,,,

nate’s the one who is always putting them into matching outfits

if both of them want to be held by their dad (which tbh is most of the time) nate will have one on his shoulders and the other hanging in his arms

they play wrestle a lot!!!! you always yell at them to be careful but it’s nate we’re talking about and someone always ends up getting hurt— and most of the time it’s nate

he gets them both on the ice as soon as possible

you’re not the best skater so he has uncle cale come help (the kids are obsessed with uncle cale bc like cmon)

overall you guys definitely got the hang of parenthood pretty quickly and are so thankful for the twins every single day

and nate may or may not want more

❋ ❋ ❋

so this is my very first moodboard that i made, i lowkey have like 10 others saved on my pinterest, but i hope you guys like it. def got my inspiration from some other amazing creators on here that have been making them lately.

i also decided to include a little headcannon as well, and as you can see i went a little overboard lol

my account has been acting up a lot lately so hopefully this works and shows up in tags, but i hope you like it !!!

anyway tagging some mutuals so this doesnt flop :)

@bb-nhlqueen7​ @frederikanderson​ @prettyboycozens​ @prettyboyjackhughes​ @carepriceisgoodathockey​ @2manytabsopen​ @lovereadinghockeyy​ @jamiesdrysdales​ @zuks​ @joekellys​ @owenpowerr​ @gigissports​

[kekoma]

— semi as your boyfriend.

can’t imagine not crushing on this man. hope you enjoy.

many many thoughts with this man.

so many that it hurts in good way.

first of all, semi MOST LIKELY named one of his guitars after you.

and i’m not talking about some ordinary guitar that he may occasionally play or anything— nah, i’m talking about the most expensive one that’s gorgeous.

takes the utter most care of that guitar since he plays it often and no one is allowed to touch it.

def learns the songs you like and covers them because this man has bomb ass vocals. i said what i said and won’t take it back.

or he just plays the melody, asking that you sing instead (if you’re up to it)

when semi isn’t covering/playing songs for you then he’s writing them about you.

you’re his sole inspiration for most of the songs he ends up creating and you’re also the first one to hear it before anyone else too.

also something to point out— he creates most of those songs during the night when you’re around.

semi knows most late nights can pull out the strangest topics but it can also open you and him up at the same time when it comes to emotions.

so he’ll be staring at you from his computer chair with his guitar resting on his lap, listening precisely to every word that slip pass your lips as you laid on his bed; rambling about your emotions and how you’re thankful that the universe has put you two in the same timeline.

suddenly he starts strumming a soft tune that makes you feel like you’re floating and turning those words you said not too long ago into something lyrical, something that you two will understand but those that hear it would need to decipher (because there’s no way he’s making it easy for outsiders to understand)

AND if you know a few things about music, can sing well from taking lessons/taking a chorus class in school and/or play an instrument then semi is going AWOOGA 😍 

def can see him wanting to collab with you or asking if you could be his hidden vocals/use your voice in general (meaning he would ask you to record a fake voicemail or say his name a certain way so he can put it in the song)

although if you aren’t comfortable with that concept then he understands and won’t push you to do anything.

whew let me move on because i could literally go on and on about this man being musically talented.

anyways, semi def creates a bunch of playlist for you. 

each one having a description for why it was made and the feeling he wants to give off with it.

something i feel like he may also do is send over songs he currently listens to and says you should listen to it too so you both feel more connected.

BUT really stepping aside from music.

he’s extremely caring and respectful towards you.

truly studies you, making mental notes about everything and makes sure he avoids cause any discomfort.

when it comes to caring— semi semi here might go out his way to show you through his actions if he feels his words and physical touches may not be enough.

i’ll say he’s a bit clingy— dude loves being around you no matter what.

for sure invites you to his volleyball practices and games.

you’re his lucky charm and he enjoys the thought of knowing you’re supportive of him when it comes to volleyball.

also he’s supportive of anything you do as well, even shows up to your events too (but if it clashes with a volleyball then he won’t be able to go obviously but he makes it up by ordering food in and asking you to tell him all the details about what happened)

now i briefly brought pda earlier and its about that time to talk about it... does eita like it?

yeah he does but it’s not very common in public.

the best you’ll get from him is holding hands, small pecks on the lips/cheeks and ONCE in a blue moon will he wrap his arms around you from behind.

there’s no real reason for why he’s like that but hopefully you’re understanding.

now in private; he does a bit more pda. kisses become a bit more frequent, won’t pass up the chance to hold you in his arms through cuddling or whatever.

side fact: semi definitely likes when you’re in between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and the guitar would be settled on your legs— basically teaching you how to play (if you ever asked him to)

“where do i place my fingers next?”

“right here... you’ll bring your pinky up a bit but keep these two fingers on the the second fret.” he’ll carefully move one of your fingers just to put them in the correct place.

“then you’ll strum. i’ll let you try it without my help this time.”

literally would smile when you do it, finding himself falling deeper in love with you than before.

semi adores that you’re willing to learn something he’s very passionate about it and appreciates you for even taking the time for it when you could do other things.

vvv soft and we stan that here.

moving on— lets talk about nicknames really quick.

drumroll please 🥁🥁🥁 

top nicknames: my melody/melody, love, angel and occasionally he’ll toss in lotus along with bambi. 

had to keep it cute and interesting <3 semi isn’t going for the basics.

something to mention, we’ve all seen the way he dresses in casual clothes... now you can either a) hype him up about his clothes to the point he’s no longer concerned about how tendou says he looks uncool or b) help the boy out with his style just a bit. all up to you cutie.

heh now let me discuss dates right because whew~ dates with this cutie? hits deliciously.

of course most of the dates are music related so tickets to a concert is on there, going to certain places (such as a park with others and a little picnic set up) to see free performances from new/upcoming artists and etc.

“that last set was actually good, don’t you think so melody?”

“yeah~ i liked the emotions the singer had in her voice. it really connected with me but what do you think?”

“same thing as you. however, did you notice how they had a shift in the cords that created the perfect harmonic? and it wasn’t completely soft too.”

“now that i think about it, my ears didn’t catch on the first time but yeah. oh look! the next act is going up~!”

but when he isn’t dragging you out for that then he mainly takes you out for a drive/walk around the city, cafes, those karaoke places that also serves food, shopping and stay-at-home dates which he tries his best to make them fun (there’s probably more but im just naming a few here)

dates are normally chilled with him and always fun so we loving it.

bonus: semi FOR SURE has you as his lockscreen. no doubt about it.

he loves waking up to your picture in the morning or even checking the time because he gets to see how adorable his love is.

also on his sns (instagram mainly)— he has a highlight called ‘me and my melody 🎶🤍’ which is filled with a bunch of pictures of you two together.

the pictures are so cute that they end up on Pinterest and everyone starts  spamming your dms with “so 👀 does your boyfriend have any siblings?”, “can you drop a tutorial on how to get a fine boyfriend like yours?”, “ayo 😳 think i can have him on the weekends and you get him for the weekdays?” and much more crazier things we won’t mention here.

another bonus: probably sings you to sleep if you’re having trouble sleeping. don’t try fighting me on this because i won’t allow it.

ANYWAYS, to conclude this before i have complete semi brainrot— dating this man is a 10/10 and it’s worth it.

we love semi eita over here <333

© all content belongs to kekoma 2020. do not repost, modify or translate.

[doublerainebow]

Artist Resources (Part 1?)

This is basically just going to be a bunch of resources I have found to be useful. I can’t say that I’ve used all of them, but I’m sure they’re all worth checking out.

I’m also gonna try to put a detailed description for most of the links so you have a better idea of what you’re getting. I apologize in advance if some of them are redundant lol

(I put “Part 1″ if in the case I make another one)

~Links to Tutorials, Tips, Resources, etc~

Another Resource List -- Leads to another Tumblr post. Apparently, the post isn’t mobile-friendly, so it’s suggested to view this on Tumblr browser. Has a bunch of other links. I’ve checked out a few of them (mainly the copyright stuff lol), and it seems that some of the links may be a bit outdated. Still, it doesn’t hurt to check out the links.

Arms and Legs -- Leads to another Tumblr post. A handy tutorial on elbow and knee placement.

Art & Game Dev -- This leads to my personal playlist of a bunch of YouTube videos. Has a bunch of tutorials and interesting videos that I’ve collected over the course of a few years lol.

Blamblot -- A website that contains resources and tutorials on comic lettering. This is primarily in reference to western comics, but it doesn’t help to take a looksie.

Commission Calculator -- Leads to another Tumblr post. Helps artists to stop selling themselves short.

Comparing Heights (hikaku-sitatter) -- A height comparer for centimeters.

Comparing Heights -- A height comparer for feet and inches.

Mouth Shapes and Lip-Syncing -- Leads to another Tumblr post. Useful for... drawing mouth shapes.

Reference Angle -- Useful for when you’re trying to map out a face from an odd angle.

Soft Proofing for Printing -- Leads to another Tumblr post. Helps when you’re trying to make prints of your artwork.

Textures -- A website full of different and mostly free textures. While this website is made for 3D texturing, it can also be useful for 2D drawings. Signing up gives you 15 free credits everyday, and you can use those credits to download some textures for free.

The Models Resource -- A website of models ripped from a wide array of games.

The Spriters Resource -- A website of sprites ripped from a wide array of games.

The Textures Resource -- A websites of textures ripped from a wide array of games. 

~Links to Stock Images~

Please check out whatever policies they may have for their images before using them!

(not sure if any of them are active anymore as I followed some of these accounts a long time ago when I used to be more active on Deviant Art lol)

adorkastock (formerly senshistock)

anatoref -- Leads to another Tumblr post. Has a bunch of hand photo references

charligal-stock

HumanAnatomy4Artist -- Does contain nudity

null-entity

PhelanDavion

RobynRose

~Links to Other Artists~

Akihito Yoshitomi -- Yoshitomi is a mangaka who has tutorials on manga making. He also has an insightful series in which he drafts and draws a 30-page manga in 18 days. Remember that every artist works differently and his process may be different from another’s.

Drawfee -- Drawfee is an improv drawing show of four artists: Nathan Yaffe, Jacob Andrews, Julia Lepetit, and Karina Farek. While they don’t have tutorials in a sense, their videos explain the different processes they go through as they draw. They also occasionally provide tips, tricks, and resources in their videos. They do have another channel and a Twitch channel where they host drawing classes in addition to other fun shenanigans.

EtheringtonBrothers -- Has a bunch of useful and eye-catching tutorials called “How to Think When You Draw”.

Mark Crilley -- Mark is a comic artist, specializing in manga, who has a bunch of tutorials about anatomy, perspective, comic making, and other things.

Miyuli -- Miyuli is an artist who posts tutorials on their Twitter. Their tutorials range from anatomy to clothing to other things. They even have a few books of art tips. Currently (as of the time of posting this), their 2018 version is free for download, so I highly recommend you download that. Some tips may be outdated, but they should still be helpful.

Whyt Manga (Twitter/YouTube) -- Odunze is a comic artist, specializing in manga, that has a bunch of tutorials on manga making and drawing characters of color.

~Links to Free Programs~

Blender -- A free 3D program if you’re into 3D modeling and such. I also personally haven’t used Blender (I use Maya lol), but I know it’s a respectable program.

Krita -- A free painting program if you can’t afford Photoshop or Clip Studio Paint. I personally haven’t used Krita, but I have recommended it to a few friends and they have positive reviews about it.

Paint Tool SAI -- Okay, this one isn’t free, but it’s a significantly cheaper painting program where you don’t have to pay a subscription. It’s 5,500JPY (~50 USD). I’m not sure how well it still works on modern computers (the last update was 2016), but I still use it here and there because I love the pen tool feature it has, and it still works like a charm for me.

~General Tips From Raine~

Raine admits that she’s guilty of not following her own advice, but Raine hopes that the tips that she does know will be beneficial to someone who will follow them. She’s also going to keep all her tips under the cut so as to not make this post a huge wall of text (even though it technically already is lol)

Also, if you have some resources, tutorials, tips yourself, please feel free to send them to me and maybe I’ll make a part 2 to this post!

ALWAYS LOOK FOR REFERENCE. This should really go without saying. You can’t draw from life if you refuse to observe life itself.

If you can’t find the exact thing you need, MAKE YOUR OWN REFERENCE. Time and time again, I can’t find something exactly that I need. So instead, what I do is that I take pictures of my own reference. Sometimes I even grab a friend and take pictures of them doing whatever it is I need.

Have a mirror handy when you’re drawing. Sometimes what you need is actually right there in front of you.

Having trouble drawing something? Do some studies. Take the time to understand what it is you’re drawing. I can’t remember the exact story, but I heard that the people who were working on Tarzan were having a hard time drawing his hands. So, what they did was spend a few hours looking at hands to try and understand how they work.

IT’S OKAY TO STUDY THE ART OF OTHER ARTISTS. Just as we look to the old masters as a reference, it’s definitely okay to look at modern-day artists for reference. Just don’t go copying exactly everything that they do, or worse, trace what they do. Just don’t do it... at all.

Not every line needs to be realized. The viewer of your work will automatically connect the dots.

DO NOT TRASH YOUR OLD DRAWINGS. Please, never ever do this. Your old drawings have value to them, even if they look terrible to you. Old drawings may hold ideas for things you could do for the future. They also serve as a way to see how far you’ve come as an artist.

GETTING BETTER AT DRAWING TAKES TIME AND EFFORT. You’re not gonna get better overnight. It’ll take months, or even years, to feel like you’re a competent artist, and even then, you’ll still have room for improvement.

DON’T LOOK DOWN ON YOURSELF IF YOU’RE TAKING A LONG TIME TO GET BETTER. It’ll be better for your mental health in the long run.

Alternatively, DON'T LOOK DOWN ON OTHER ARTISTS EITHER, ESPECIALLY TO MAKE YOURSELF FEEL BETTER. You know the struggles it took for you to get where you are, so don’t go putting down other people when you’ve been in their shoes once.

KEEP DRAWING. If you’re not making an effort to get better, then you’re not going to be better. I get that it’s hard to find the inspiration to draw (I’m very guilty of this), but just keep trying. It doesn’t have to be big or spectacular. You don’t even have to post it if you’re the type who likes to post their art stuff.

Try to find references from real-life. It’ll help you better understand form, lighting, shadows, etc., especially if you’re going for a more realistic kind of art style. Otherwise, finding reference from things like cartoons, anime, comics, etc. are just as good.

Try new things. Try new art mediums. Try a different art style. Switch up the way you do things. Maybe you’ll hate it, maybe you’ll like it. Who knows if you don’t try.

Watch time-lapses (or speed draws/speed paints) of other artists!

Pinterest and Google are your friends if you need tutorials or references or whatever.

If you’re offering commissions, DO NOT WORK UNDER YOUR LOCAL MINIMUM WAGE. You are literally devaluing the work you actually put into a piece.

I like to think I’m an aficionado of Photoshop, so feel free to ask me questions on how to achieve something! I’ve used Photoshop for about 11 years now and know my way around the program. On another note, I do recommend setting custom keyboard shortcuts in Photoshop because the default shortcuts are terrible (in my opinion), and because having custom shortcuts increases the speed of your workflow.

Because I’ve been seeing this a lot lately in Twitter, you’re never too old to start in art. Art is just one of those things that anyone can pick up at any age because the only thing you really need to get good in art is time, diligence, and patience.

Try not to post hi-res images of your artwork to prevent art stealers from selling your artwork in high resolution.

Always, always, always add your signature and watermark on your artwork. I like to add my signatures and watermarks in places that’ll be hard to erase or crop out. I’ve also seen people add their signatures and watermarks in creative ways (ex. on a character’s shirt). You need to protect your work in an era where people will just blatantly steal it and make profit off your work.

Tag List

@reality-is-often-disappointing

[thesimperiuscurse]

THE CHALLENGE — show a certain part of your story process based on you being tagged by other creators. 

Thank you @herpixels for tagging me in your wonderful challenge! Here’s a behind-the-scenes essay for En Pointe ❤

WRITING PROCESS — show us a part of your script or explain how you write your scenes. do you write in screenplay format or novel format?

I write in novel format, and have a very methodical process. I have a Planning Notebook which covers all the general elements of the story; cast list + descriptions, main plot, themes, overviews of all chapters, timeline, world + settings information, research links, and a massive section with all my notes on relationships, character styles, history, writing goals, arcs, and most crucially, what to avoid from the absolute fucking mess of Fallen Angels. 

At the smaller scale, before writing, I plan out each chapter in my Chapter Workbook. First is the Outline, which is a synopsis of the main events. Going off that, I write a list of Chapter Shots which describes in writing all the pictures; what kind of shot it is (long, over-the-shoulder, etc), the location + atmosphere, and what the characters are doing. Corresponding to these I list the Poses, for each character and what expression they have. I then write a To Do List for what sets to build, new sims to make, number of poses to create, the cc I have to find or make. The final section is Details, which notes down all the little things I have to remember; running gags, nuances, and themes; current state of relationships and character arcs to keep track of their development; what my aims are for character perceptions + issues I need to fix from the last chapter. This section is super important to make sure the story unfolds smoothly and revelations make sense, or else I get something abrupt like Mako x Raven, because I didn’t foreshadow clearly or early enough in advance. Here are snippets of what this looks like:

Once I finish all this planning (the current word count of the two documents is 20k lmfao), then I begin writing. It’s a lot less structured because I just start with the most exciting scenes or ones I’ve been thinking about for a while. I organise the paragraphs according to the Chapter Shots. A bit of light editing then the writing is ready to publish! 

SCENE BUILDING — show us you in the middle of scene building through pictures, gifs, or a video. explain what is the best thing about scene building and what is the worst!

I dislike scene building because TS3′s weak ass makes everything so tedious. I have a Pinterest board to inspire the settings. The worst part is definitely when the game moves at 0.001 m/s and crashes, which happens far too often and pisses me off. Here’s a screenshot I accidentally took when setting up the big family dinner scene in Chapter 8. I tried my best to minimise the amount of sims that were actually there because I take shortcuts whenever possible. Crowd scenes suck. 

CC + POSE MAKING — do you make your own cc/poses for your scene? If so, what is your process like to create? do you just go off the top of your head? do you use reference photos?

I make all the poses that aren’t singular and ‘normal’, due to height differences and also so I can achieve my exact vision. Depending on the length of the chapter, this can range from 20-50 poses, which is looking to be around 700 poses by the story finale. I try to find reference photos (essential for ballet poses) when I can to make them look natural. I also convert or mesh clothing + objects, but I’m lazy so I often cheat with Photoshop. 

GETTING IN THE ZONE — what do you do to get in the zone to work on a scene? examples include: show us your playlist you use when working on a scene, what’s your go-to scene snack/drink, etc.

I don’t actually have anything for this. If I don’t feel like doing a particular task on the To Do List I just try something else. Sometimes I listen to Eva and Mako’s playlists when working though, and there are certain songs I associate with certain parts of the story which help me when I’m thinking of them. 

SCREENSHOT FOLDER — give us a look into your screenshot folder to show us just how much goes into one scene for your story. scrapped pictures encouraged!

I also have a linear method for pictures. Firstly, I create the poses, and test them in a blank background, which is when I figure out the most flattering angles, and edit the poses if needed. After that I begin series of test shots in the actual set, redoing up to three times until it looks passable. Since I use natural light almost every shot has a double (or even triple), with outdoor lighting for the environment and controlled interior lighting for the sims, which is then spliced together along with other atmospheric editing. There’s a lot of screenshots to ‘build’ the final visual but I rarely have alternative or scrapped finals because that would be a terrible waste of time. Why do I do this ridiculously tedious process? Because I’m stupid. 

CAPTIONS — are you a caption on the picture kind of storyteller or captions in text box type of storyteller? why? do you do both?

I don’t do caption format, because for me, it removes lots of detail and nuance. Long prose means my audience is much smaller, but I wouldn’t be able to convey half the things just by still visuals and dialogue. As you might be able to tell from the aforementioned question, picture taking is also just immensely tiring.

EDITING — explain and show us your process editing a scene through a video, gif, or picture. a before and after will suffice if you aren’t in the middle of editing a scene as you answer this.

Corresponding to the Screenshot Folder question:

I no longer rely on Reshade for post-processing, except for DOF, but even then I blur in editing. Lately I’ve been trying to create a more realistic, atmospheric look with strong DOF, bloom, motion blur, and smoothing out light + shadows with exposure brushes. 

THROWBACK — show us an ancient story scene you done in the past and explain how you would do the scene differently today!

You mean every scene I’ve ever done before En Pointe LOL If we’re talking ancient, I might as well go back to the very beginning of The Kingston Legacy, in 2015. It’s the classic legacy opening of the founder moving to a new town, with basic writing and terrible low-setting-no-cc pictures. I would do literally everything different. I can’t even begin to describe so here’s something to laugh at. 

I tag — @lazysunjade​ (watch her post it 1 second later) @amys-snapshots @notjustabooksims @simnights ❤ Please check the challenge post for the full and original format, and anyone else who wants to participate can also reblog it as an ask game! 

[brattyfics]

Locs

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!OC

Summary: Inspired by that tweet: ‘Him: Your hair is so pretty. Her: Pull it then’.

Warnings: Oversimplification of wash day, sexual content.

Word count: 2K

Maya’s bottom half numbed from sitting on the wooden stool in front of her bathroom’s vanity for too long. Her boyfriend, Angel Reyes, stood behind her making silly faces in the mirror. She pretended to be annoyed with his antics, but eventually she always gave into the laughter bubbling up in her belly.

Angel had shown up when she wasn’t expecting him, half way through wash day with her hair piled up in a puffy ball on top of her head. She hadn’t been in the mood for any visitors, especially not any she was romantically involved with, but he assured her it was fine. 

“You’re always beautiful to me, mama.” His sweet words and soft kisses proved to be the secret passcode for entrance. She rolled her eyes, but secretly she was melting on the inside. Angel trailed closely behind her as she made her way back to the bathroom, assuring her that he’d help with whatever.

Maya handed him the bottle of moisturizer with strict instructions. “Make sure you use enough to get my roots and ends really good, but don’t get crazy. This shit costs like $30 a bottle.”

Angel’s eyebrows rose dramatically. 

“I know! You sent me to get it last time, remember? I was looking at the cashier like, huh? 30 dollars? What the fuck did I get?” 

She snickered. 

“What’s even in this shit? Let me see.” He looked at the bottle with wide eyes, mumbling his way through the ingredient list. She let him carry on for a minute before she swatted his arm. 

“Excuse me, sir! I’m going to need you to focus on the task at hand. I don’t have all day.”

“Beauty takes time, darling.” He mimicked her, repeating the same thing she told him when she made them late on date nights.

After a mini-tutorial, Angel got to work and was surprisingly gentle. She expected him to be over it within five minutes, but he was excited and proud of himself. The difference the moisturizer made could be seen and felt as he went through each section. The fruity, tropical scent of the product was her signature smell; the same smell that whirled around his head when he took her for rides on his motorcycle, and long after the two of them had separated. 

“Whats next?” 

She told him to detangle her hair with the special brush, starting from the bottom and slowly working his way to the top. Despite a few snags, he pressed on and Maya was no worse for wear. It was nice to achieve the results without having to deal with her arms being achy and tired. 

“You know, when I was on my way over here, this is not the head I had in mind.”

The things that came out his mouth were so outrageous!

“Wait-- what?” 

Maya’s head fell back as she erupted into a fit of giggles, water droplets raining on Angel’s shirt and face with her movement. He sputtered as if she had tried to drown him, but she couldn’t find the composure to apologize. 

“I’m working here.” He sassed, pushing her to sit up straight. “I’m trying to be professional, but you gotta help me by being a good client.” His serious face was enough to set her off into another round of laughter, but she appreciated him taking it seriously. Angel knew she valued her hair, so he did too. Maya did her best to look thoroughly reprimanded, patting his jean-clad leg in apology.

“Thank you, papa. You’re the best.” She flirted, grinning innocently. He leaned down to kiss her lips, a shy smile gracing his face. She kept the compliments flowing, stroking his thick beard. “You’re so cute.” 

He nuzzled into her neck like a kitten, purring under the attention. She kissed him again, giving him what he knew to be bedroom eyes. Angel pulled away with a groan. 

“Professional.”

He moved through the final section fairly quickly after grasping the technique. Maya turned her head from side to side, preening in the mirror. 

“I think I might just keep you.”

Their eyes met in the mirror, a mischievous glint in both pairs.

Angel bent at the knees, and Maya scooted forward so that he could sit behind her on the small stool. His arms encircled her waist as they both shifted to get comfortable. 

“I’ve been out here buying $300 bottles of conditioner, looking up date ideas on Pinterest like a lame, and the whole time all I had to do was help you with your hair?”

“$300, Angel? Really? And I never told you to join Pinterest, I just told you not to bring me to the same places as all your other bitches. It’s not my fault you’ve been running around town with a bunch of girls, you little ho.” It had taken Angel a couple of weeks to get her sense of humor. She liked busting his balls. 

Still, he asked. “What am I going to do with you, niña loca?” The soft tone he used warmed her insides. 

Love me.

Bright eyes met again in the mirror as they studied their joined reflection with fascination. They looked at each other all the time, but never at themselves together. Angel’s chin rested on her head; deep russet skin complimenting rich mahogany. Dark coffee-colored eyes met burnt sienna, straight, onyx hair meeting coily, brunette. 

Neither of them spoke, too afraid to break up the magic of the moment.

Big fingers tickled the backside of her thighs, the warmth from his skin and chill from his metal rings making her shiver. The action was innocent enough, but she knew Angel. He was always in the mood, always testing her to see if she felt the same. Her center tingled when his calloused hands found their way to her lap, touching the bare skin between her legs where her shorts had ridden up. 

Yes, Angel was testing her. 

He had done the same thing two nights earlier, coming to Maya for comfort after a hard night.

***

“Did you ride your bike here like this?”

Maya scanned her front yard for Angel’s motorcycle even though she hadn’t heard it. She smelled the alcohol on his breath, saw the way he swayed slightly with each step. 

“No.” He mumbled just as she noticed his brother, Ezekiel, parked near the curb in a pickup truck. She had only met him in passing as he and Angel were going through a rough patch. He nodded at her from the truck, and she barely managed to wave to him before Angel was on her, hot mouth at her neck, big hands groping her all over. 

“Wait a second, babe.” 

She wasn’t in the mood to give her neighbors a show, but Angel was relentless. 

“I can’t. You’re so fineeee. And you smell so gooood.” He kept mumbling nonsense under his breath, reattatching himself to her every time she moved one of his limbs. She giggled even as she struggled to close the front door.

“Seriously, Angel. Give me a second.” 

He relented for a single moment, scooping her up into his arms after the lock clicked. Maya shrieked as he carted her off to the bedroom, not confident in his ability to not drop her in his drunken state. 

She told him as much. “You better not drop me!” Angel shook her as if she were on a rollercoaster to prove a point. She cackled, arms tightening around his neck.

“You’re not the boss of me.” He said with a grumpy scowl, dropping her onto the cushiony mattress. 

“I’m not?”

“No.” He told her, a serious expression on his face.

“Unh uhn!” She bossed, pushing him away from the foot of the bed. “Take off your clothes first!”

He stripped like she said.

“I’m not the boss of you?” 

She wore a smug expression.

“No. Definitely not.”

“You sure?”

Angel ignored her as he got comfortable, laying half of his body on top of her. His long legs and arms trapped her to him like a spider in a web, his heavy head resting on her chest. The position made it hard for her to breathe, but she pushed her discomfort to the side. She wanted Angel to be comfortable. With one hand she rubbed his arm, the other stroking his hair the way he liked. 

“You know what would be nice?” 

“If you were quiet?”

He snorted. 

“No.”

“What?”

“If you rubbed something else for me.”

“Angel--”

“Please.” He pouted. 

Her thumb traced the outline of his bottom lip, the hairs of his goatee tickling the pads of her fingertips.

“You don’t have to do anything but lay here.” He promised, kissing her collarbone. 

Maya smiled. She had heard that line before.

Even in his desperation, Angel was sensual. He whispered in her ear, telling her she was perfect and that he was thankful in between tonguing her down. He shifted so their hips were aligned, grinding until heat pooled in her panties. 

Maya guided his hand to her chest, and he did the rest, discovering she wore nothing underneath the crop top. She gasped underneath him, bucking her hips for more. He groaned into her mouth, pinching a sensitive nipple between his middle and ring finger. 

“So pretty, mama.” He complimented as he pushed the top up so he could show her breasts the proper attention. Angel was obsessed with her tits. He asked for pictures of them when he was away and took any opportunity he had to play with them. When they were watching moves on the couch, in the car while they waited in the drive-thru, he was always itching for a peek.

She loved it.

“Thank you, baby.” She cooed as his hot mouth latched around an erect nipple. Down below, he shimmied out of his jeans, immediately pulling at her shorts after. She lifted up, helping Angel in his mission to undress her. 

His eyes met hers, searching for permission to continue. 

The two of them fooled around a lot, but they hadn’t had sex. Maya liked Angel, but she was the type to get attached, so she wanted to be sure before they took that next step. Her lust for him made her hazy, careless. She wanted to take the plunge, lose herself in him. But...

“Baby--”

“I know.” 

He grunted, forcing his hips to slow while he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

“I’m sorry.”

He smiled. 

“It’s okay.”

She knew he meant it.

Maya returned a smile, pushing Angel to lay down next to her. She crawled so that she sat in his lap, tugging on the cotton boxer briefs. The fat, dark red tip intimidated her, but she fisted him anyway, using the creamy precum as lubricant. 

“Fuck.” He cursed. 

Neither of them could look away from what she was doing. 

Up and down. Up and down. Twist. Up and down. Spit. Up and down. 

She told him his dick was the prettiest she had ever seen, and that it felt good in her hand. All of it was true, but she said it to rile him up. She knew Angel had a praise kink. Being told he was good at something, the best, was easiest way to set him off. Angel had been halfway there before so it didn’t take much for her to work him back up to the edge.

“Just like that.” He grunted, fucking into her fist. 

“Yeah?” She taunted sweetly, licking her lips at the heated expression on his face. “Am I making you feel good, baby?” 

As if to answer, he came with a series of loud groans, his release splattering hotly against her belly. She gasped staring down at the mess he made. 

Angel took advantage of his distraction, thick fingers finding their way to her center, stroking in circles until she followed him with her own release.

She whined his name, falling forward to rest against his chest with harsh pants. 

After such powerful orgasms, both of them worried they would kill each other when they finally had sex.

***

It had taken a ridiculous amount of effort on Maya’s part to not sleep with Angel. 

She worried he wouldn’t have the time for a relationship with his lifestyle, or that he wouldn’t be able to stay faithful when he faced temptation everyday, but the look of adoration in his eyes as he stared at their reflection made her feel as if her worries were unwarranted.

“Your hair is so pretty.” He complimented, pushing her hair forward so that it framed her face. 

He was always doing that. Assuring her that she was beautiful, special.

For the first time in a long time, her heart felt full. With total confidence, she spoke. 

“Pull it then.”

“What?”

Maya stood from his lap, turning around so they were face to face. Her soft hands cupped his cheeks, the scratchy hair of his beard poking at her fingers.

“Pull. It. Then.”

[collecting-stories]

Peace - pt. 04 - Rafe Cameron

Summary: The moments leading up to your wedding to Rafe.

A/N: I’m so sad to see this series end honestly, I’ve so loved writing this version of Rafe. Could probably write him like this forever😂 (I should note that I truly hate the Reagan’s but I do admire the love they had for each other and that’s why I reference them.)

One Thing Right Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

△ ▽ △ ▽

Rafe’s first apartment in Boston was a little generic. It was sleek though, modern, like someone had plucked it right out of a magazine and stuck it, piece for piece, into his living space. And it stayed that way for almost three years and then you left your coat hanging in the hall closet. It was banana yellow and looked like it belonged in a Paddington Bear book. But it was just one jacket and when he closed the closet door no one could tell the difference.  

But then a toothbrush popped up, green against his color coordinated grays. A pair of sneakers you wore to the gym sat in his bedroom, a pastel rainbow of colors highlighting the white of everything else. They were small though, little minute changes that he could hide away until slowly, maybe without him even realizing it, you were all over the apartment. A dog bed for Fivel, throw blankets that you somehow smuggled into his place and never took home, by New Years his apartment looked more lived in than it had in three years prior.  

It wasn’t just your things that made their way into Rafe’s apartment though. It was you. Somewhere between a one-night stand in college, a first date, and your second New Years eve together, you had made room for yourself in Rafe’s life. The somewhat generic party boy that had coasted through every other aspect of his life, relationships included, was suddenly thinking more than a week in advance.  

He was thinking about houses, about where you could live together. A place that was yours and his, that was a space you both chose, you both decorated, you both lived in together. He thought about actual schedules, yours and his, but he thought far in advance to. What it would be like to come home from work at night and spend time with you. Watching dumb TV shows and eating take out and trying to cook and buying groceries together. It was all on his mind, all the time.  

He’d taken up showing you houses now, brownstones in Beacon Hill that had enough bedrooms for kids, “I liked the one with the garden.” You said, passing Rafe his phone back.  

That was new, at least in the last year that you were together. Topper had been the first one to say something about it when he’d been up to visit for Rafe’s 27th birthday. Sitting there on the couch watching the game, talking about what bars they were going to hit up.

“I can check...” Rafe patted his pocket for his phone, “babe, do you have my phone?”

“Oh yeah, sorry. Mine died and I plugged it in the bathroom.” You had walked into the room like it was nothing and handed over Rafe’s phone and Topper just sat there in mild shock. There hadn’t been a time in their friendship that Topper could pinpoint Rafe ever letting anyone use his phone. Just looking at the lock screen ran the risk of incrimination.  

“He lets you use his phone?”

“As long as I don’t look at the messages his other girlfriends send him.” You joked, your sentence dissolving into laughter when Rafe tripped you and pulled you down into his lap.  

“I don’t want to sound like a broken record here but...you’re just totally different man.” Topper confessed later once the two of them went out bar hopping. A school day the next morning demanded that you stay in but you waved them off and told them to have fun. Topper had been friends with Rafe since high school and he had seen all the bad sides of him. The excessive drinking, the recreational drug use, “I’ve never even known you to be monogamous.”  

Rafe shrugged. It was probably true but there in the bar, where any other time, regardless of a girlfriend, he would’ve been more than happy to get some attention, he was just drinking, texting you sporadically. “I don’t know. I gave her a key to my place over Christmas.” He admitted, “I think I'm losing my mind.”

“That might not be a bad thing.”

“It definitely isn’t.”

Two months later, in March, when Rafe suggested, for the first time, that you should live together you had assumed he meant in one of your apartments. Yours was smaller than his so you figured it would be ruled out immediately. But you didn’t necessarily love his apartment building and the co-op that owned it could be a little strict for your taste. But Rafe didn’t mention either apartment. Or anything more on the matter until April when he asked what you thought about a brownstone while you were walking Fivel.  

“Kind of big for two people and a dog.” You joked, slowing down in front of one of the brownstones in Beacon Hill. They were beautiful, the epitome of Boston life, a dream you’d definitely let yourself have before.  

“What if we’re not two people and a dog forever?”  

Rafe had a way of asking questions that sent your head spinning with all the giddy hope and optimism you thought you’d packed away when you decided that traditional life and milestones weren’t for you. When you knew for sure that people who got married for 30, 40, 50 years were just flukes, it wasn’t something to aspire to because it was never going to happen to you. The cynicism had been easy for a long time but then, whenever you were with Rafe, you felt like it was melting away.  

He told you to look at brownstones, see if there were any for sale that the two of you thought could fit into your life. You looked on the cheaper side of things while Rafe was more realistic about his finances. And yours, you had told him around the same time as Ian’s wedding that your grandparents had set up a substantial trust for you that deposited to your account monthly. Enough that working was just because you wanted to.  

It was no surprise that it was Rafe who found a house. A beautiful brownstone right in Beacon Hill with a garden entry, nestled back from the street, between two other homes,  the courtyard in the front. It was gutted inside, closer to your proposed budget but it would require enough of an overhaul that you and Rafe would be putting a decent amount into renovations.  

“You said you liked the one with the garden.” And somehow it became the second real argument you had. Silly, because you both loved the place. But you seemed willing to resist, to hold out even though he knew you wanted it.  

You had sent pictures to your mom, saved images on Pinterest boards of all the house inspiration you could find, had bookmarked different tiles and wallpapers and furniture stores. And yet every time he mentioned it you said you weren’t sure.  

“We’re supposed to sign today to buy it.” Rafe complained as you stalled. He was pulling his coat on and his scarf, the temperature drop in Boston was a nightmare, especially for Rafe. He hated the winter, and the fall, and part of the spring.

“I’m just not positive.”

“What’s the matter with it this time?” He asked, a little more than exasperated honestly.  

You sighed, sitting down on the bar stool in Rafe’s kitchen. You knew what was the matter, the same thing that was the problem every time that you thought about the brownstone a little too long. “What if something happens?”  

“What do you mean?”  

“What if something happens between us? What if we start renovating and you hate all the stuff I like or what if we move in and you break up with me-“

“Can I ask why I’m doing all these things?” He asked, walking back over to where you were sitting, turning the seat of your stool so that he could cage you in a little. “What if you hate the stuff I like or you break up with me?”

“That’s ridiculous.” You dismissed.  

“Yeah and it’s ridiculous for you to think that stuff about me.” He replied, “look, I get it. I’ve never taken anything seriously before. All the shit my dad says about me is true but this,” He waved his hand between the two of you, “there’s nothing I want more than this. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, “but I want pink cabinets in the kitchen or no deal.”  

Rafe smiled, shaking his head before. “Whatever you want.”

“That’s dangerous.” You teased, leaning forward in your chair and tilting your head up a little, silently asking him for a kiss which he happily reciprocated. “I love you, I just freak myself out sometimes.”

The brownstone took six months to finish, six months of meetings with a contractor, six months of walking through half finished abstractions and picking out tile and flooring and cabinets and paint. Six months of talking about color schemes and trying to convince Rafe that the pink velvet sofa was moving into the house.  

And somehow, during those six months, it wasn’t Rafe’s modern, spacious, sleek apartment that you co-habituated in but your apartment. Smaller, brighter, more homely. Rafe’s lease ended before yours and he wasn’t sure how you convinced him but he moved out of his apartment, sold furniture he didn’t care about, and moved into yours.  

-

The brownstone wasn’t the only thing that occupied Rafe’s mind during those six months. Between work and renovations Rafe had started spending an unhealthy amount of time looking at rings. There was a significant difference between what he knew you would like (which he had to base solely on what he knew about you because damn it if you never brought up a wedding at all) and what he would’ve liked to give you. He considered asking but he thought that might be in bad taste, who asks someone to help with their own proposal. So he did the next best thing he could think of.  

“This is so exciting.” Nina’s high pitched whisper was hardly a whisper at all, far too invested in this ‘no one could see them talking’ conspiracy. She claimed it was for your benefit, to keep the secret a little longer, but Rafe had a better idea that it was just so she could boast about having helped after the fact. “God, this one is beautiful.”  

“I thought she’d like it, it’s not very traditional and it’s something she’d feel comfortable wearing at work.” Rafe replied. He decided that was an important criteria. You didn’t wear a lot of jewellery solely because you worried about six year old hands grabbing at it or losing it throughout the day.  

“I like it, I think she’d really love it.” Nina replied honestly, “you should just go with your gut, you know what she likes.”

“I just second guess myself.”  

“Well don’t, you guys are…it’s nice, to see her with someone that makes her happy. She used to be so stressed all the time with Ian and he was always such a dick to her.” Nina commented. She let Rafe take his laptop back, the two of them sitting at a table in the Starbucks near your apartment.  

The ring was modest and, for lack of a better word, delicate. It had been the first one he’d seen that he’d felt confident about and hearing Nina confirm that you would love it reassured that anxious feeling in his gut. He didn’t know how to explain it in a way that made sense, that didn’t sound like some cliché sound bite, but this wasn’t something he ever thought about it. He had friends who thought about stuff like that, who made plans or thought further ahead than a week but he had never been one of them. Topper had been right, this wasn’t him. Or, not the version of him that he had been before.  

“You have plans to propose?” Nina asked, sipping her latte and watching Rafe so casually ordering the ring right there in Starbucks like it was a pair of shoes.  

“The house is done in two months so, I was thinking about waiting until then.” He shrugged.  

“You’re gonna ask her to marry you just, in your house?”  

“It’ll be first thing, kinda a ‘here’s our house, marry me’ thing. Why?” He asked. Rafe thought it was a pretty good idea. Take you to the house for one last walk through before you officially moved and ask you to marry right on the rooftop deck that you loved so much.  

“Just wondered,” Nina replied. “You were so worried about the ring, I expected you to be more unsure about everything.”  

“I knew the brownstone was the spot when we toured it with the realtor.” He replied, matter of fact. “Obviously don’t say anything.”  

“I won’t, I promise.”

-

Rafe could’ve asked you about a ring, a wedding, future kids, and you probably still wouldn’t have put two and two together. It wasn’t that you didn’t think about those things because you did. It was like flipping on a TV that was only playing a series of ex machina broadcasts. Even if you weren’t thinking about it immediately it crept in. When Anya had told you about her honeymoon you immediately wondered what your own might be like, if it would ever happen. When a new class of kids started and a name stuck out to you as one you liked you’d start to wonder about your own future children.  

You thought about the future to an overwhelming degree and you always had. But you didn’t think that Rafe did. Or, more accurately, you didn’t want to think about whether or not he did. What if dating was enough? What if the brownstone was enough? Your mom always spooked you with the same advice, “never move in with a guy before you’re engaged or you’ll never get married”.  

You only broached the subject once, laying on the couch after a day of parent-teacher conferences and watching the Bachelorette because it was ridiculous and you needed ridiculous television.  

“You could audition for this show.” You called as Rafe came out of the bedroom, changed out of his work clothes (slacks, button downs, you were truly blessed to see both sides of his wardrobe as often as you did).  

“For…” he looked at the screen as he pulled his Duke University shirt over his head, “for the bachelorette?”

“Yeah, I bet you’d be like, a fan favorite.”  

“I don’t know how you watch this, it’s all manufactured.”  

“It’s kinda nice though, I mean they all get right to the point.” You replied.  

“Saying ‘I wanna marry that person’ before they even know each other is dumb. Very rarely does that happen in real life.” Rafe said, walking into the kitchen.  

“Will you make me popcorn? Also, it’s not dumb…you’ve never met someone and been like ‘that’s the one’ right off the bat?” You called.  

Rafe grabbed the popcorn out of the cabinet, Fivel appearing at his feet at the sound of rattling. “Did you feed Five?” He asked, already opening the fridge to grab his food.  

“Only dry food before I walked him.” You called back, “you didn’t answer my question.”  

“Your question is a trap.” He replied.  

You sat up, leaning over the back of the couch so that you could see him in the kitchen. “It is not!”  

Rafe only hummed, ignoring you as you flopped back onto the couch to watch Chris Harrison announce that the guys were flying to Ireland for the next leg of the competition. Rafe looked back over at the TV before putting your popcorn in the microwave. Fivel ate and then headed into the living room, jumping up on the wing chair that you always kept a heating pad and blankets on. Somewhere in all the domesticity of his life Rafe had stopped thinking so much about the differences. He didn’t dwell too much on the kid he’d been in North Carolina and just let himself enjoy doing absolutely nothing with you on a Tuesday night, watch trash TV and talking about all the stuff you had to do in the upcoming weeks.  

He carried the bowl of popcorn into the living room with a beer and a diet coke, depositing everything on the coffee table. He turned the heating pad on for Fivel before sitting on the other end of the couch from you, your socked feet tucking under his thigh. “College,” Rafe said, glancing over at you.

“What?” You sat up a little bit, moving away from him only to move closer.  

“When I saw you in the stairwell at Duke. I was pretty sure.” He replied. Pretty sure was an understatement. If there was one thing that Rafe was positive about it was that he had known then and there, as you stood on the other side of the door in the cold, or maybe before that even, when you first walked into his line of view, that you were it. He would’ve chased that feeling forever if he’d never gotten a second chance at it.  

“I was so nervous that night...I thought like worse case, you were gonna try to take advantage of me,” you pointed out.  

“There goes my credibility.”  

“Well, in hindsight, we did sleep together. But you’re just…I don’t know. Especially in college. I don’t think I’ve ever met a person in my entire life who so embodies the phrase ‘I get what I want’ but you certainly did then.” You replied. He still did now but you didn’t want to give him too much of an ego boost.

“I’d say I can’t argue but you never did call me back.”  

“Yeah well you’ve got me now.” You teased.  

Rafe had told Nina he had it all figured out. In two months he would propose to you, in the house you bought together, and it would be romantic and thoughtful and planned. And all of it went out the window for a Tuesday night in a cramped apartment watching the Bachelorette and eating popcorn.  

“Marry me.”  

“What?” You looked away from the group date that was dissolving into chaos on the screen. You had to shift back a little to look at him because when you’d moved you’d leaned your whole body against his.  

“Marry me.” He repeated, that same confidence that had been seeped in every word that he spoke when he flirted with you in college was there now, as if he was just so incredibly sure of himself. “I was gonna wait another two months to ask but I’d rather not.”  

“Okay, yea, yes.” You nodded. You felt like a whirlwind was going in your mind, all the things you wanted to happen, the things you pretended not to think about, that you spent far too much time on, came rushing forward as you kissed him, unconcerned with the TV or anything other than your boyfriend in that moment.  

Rafe kissed you back, pulling you over his lap, hands on your hips. He was all for a quiet Tuesday but he certainly wouldn’t complain about having this instead. “Bedroom?”  

“Yes sir.” You replied, arms wrapped around his shoulders and smiling against his mouth. Your grip tightened when Rafe stood suddenly, your legs locking around his waist as he carried you into the bedroom.  

You had teased him the first time you toured your future home that he would have to buy a really good couch for the living room so he wouldn’t have to carry you up a flight of stairs. He’d only replied that he would have to put an elevator in.  

-

“You didn’t ask about a ring,” Rafe pointed out, laying in bed with you, hand holding yours over his chest.  

“What do you mean?”  

“People usually propose with a ring.”  

“Oh,” you scrunched your nose up and pressed your forehead against his shoulder, you hadn’t even thought about a ring. Anything that wasn’t solely Rafe had gone out of your head without much effort, your sole focus on him and the fact that he’d asked you to marry him. There was nothing else you could even imagine thinking of in that moment. “I totally forgot.”  

“I was going to propose at the house, when we moved in,” he commented, tightening his grip around your waist as if he could pull you any closer.  

“That would’ve been really nice.”  

“I know.” He had it all planned perfectly, “so I won’t have a ring for another month or so.”  

“You shouldn’t have mentioned it then! I might not’ve even realized it.” You teased.

“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t have.” Rafe replied, “you probably would’ve forgotten we were engaged. I could’ve re-proposed.” 

“You should’ve, you could’ve made it more romantic.” 

“What can I say,” he shrugged, “I’m impatient.”

“That’s okay,” you reasoned because honestly it was fine. This was good enough, “you just couldn’t resist me.”  

“Yeah that’s what it was.”  

“Hey!” You laughed, untangling yourself to sit up in bed, “hey, did you have a speech and everything? Was it gonna be like, really sappy?”  

“I did have a speech, yes.” Rafe replied. “It was pretty good too.” And it should’ve been, he had drafts saved on his phone of different possible speeches he could’ve given you.  

“Are you gonna not read it to me now?”  

“It’s on my phone.”  

“Easy fix.” Before he could grab you, you had gotten off the bed, running out to the living room. You made it to the other side of the door before you ducked back in, grabbing Rafe’s shirt off the ground. “Mrs. Murphy is home.”  

“Flash her, she’d love it.” Rafe joked, laughing when you threw up the middle finger at him as you left the room.  

Your window ‘neighbor’ was a retired older lady who liked to sit in her living room and pretend to watch TV. In actuality she had angled her TV just so that she would be able to watch all the windows on the building beside hers, your building, and she’d caught you in some fairly compromising positions since you had started dating Rafe. She was happy to peep and you were pretty sure Rafe purposely walked around the living room naked or next to naked just to give her a show but you most definitely were not.  

“Is it in your notes?” You asked, coming back into the room with Rafe’s phone in your hands, swiping through apps.  

“I’ll get it, give me my phone.” He offered, holding his hand out.  

“I wanna read it.”  

“I’ll read it to you.” Rafe replied.  

“Fine.” You climbed up on the bed, hand pressed against the arched ceiling above your head to keep your balance, Rafe’s shirt riding up. When you got close enough he wrapped a hand around the back of your thigh, pulling and causing you to fall into his lap, knees on either side of him. “I was this close to kneeing you,” you said, holding your thumb and forefinger almost together as indication.  

“But you didn’t.” Rafe took the phone from you, searching his notes to find the speech he’d drafted.  

-

Though you were sure Mrs. Murphy was sad to see you go you were practically bouncing at the prospect of the new house. A house. The word felt so foreign. And maybe because you’d packed up all those silly childhood dreams ages ago when you decided that you would never be the type of person to meet someone that felt so wholly part of you. Nina got the childhood sweetheart life you’d wanted for so long and when you finally cancelled those plans and put your focus on a life that revolved around you and Fivel things like houses felt silly.  

But there it was, something you’d only ever walked passed before. Three stories of space, four bedrooms, an office space, a kitchen that looked fit for the pages of a magazine. Rafe was sorting through books to put on the shelves in the living room space, and you were tackling the kitchen while Fivel napped on the back patio space.  

“We should have an engagement party here.” You called over the music you had turned on. “Honestly we could have the whole wedding here.”  

“I think we might need a little bit more space for a wedding.” Rafe replied, leaving the books in boxes momentarily to find you in the kitchen. You were on the floor, unpacking the pots and pans and loading them into the lower cabinets.  

“I saw this post that this woman and her partner had a small wedding and did a lot of diy stuff and then saved all their money for the honeymoon.” You replied. “If we time it right we could honeymoon in the summer.”  

“That’s fine with me.” Rafe shrugged, “you’ll be planning by yourself though, I’m going to Beijing in May, for the-“

“For that whatever thing your boss is having you do.” You cut him off, leaning back against his legs, “Lucky you. And don’t think for a second that I won’t harass you every day with emails and texts and facetime asking about what venue should we rent, where should we get pictures, what should we eat.”  

“Can’t wait,” Rafe laughed, “we’ll figure something out. Though I do like this small wedding you're talking about.”  

“That’s cause you hate everyone.” You replied.  

Rafe was a party person in the sense that he liked showing off and parties gave him the opportunity but he was not fond of too many people. Polite, friendly even, sure, but he wasn’t rushing to plan too many outings that didn’t immediately benefit him in some way. The only close friends he had were from childhood.  

“Fine then, we’ll have a big wedding.” He shrugged, stepping away from you and causing you to grab the floor before you fell on your back.  

“No,” you groaned, “I don’t like people either.”  

“I’ll only be gone a month; we’ll figure out the wedding details and all that shit.”  

“All that shit.” You repeated, getting up off the ground and walking over to him.  

“What?” He asked, skeptical as you smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and tilting your head back slightly to get him to kiss you.  

“We’re living together.”

“We have been living together.” He pointed out, just barely kissing you, nose brushing yours.  

“Yeah, but this is our house.”  

-

The wedding was small, exactly the way you both wanted. Rafe’s sisters were there by Ward and Rose stayed in North Carolina. Your family came and a few friends, you skipped inviting anyone from work aside from Anya, who came alone. The small church in was in Western Massachusetts, in your hometown, decorated with wild flowers and greens.  

“Topper,” you whispered, waving your soon-to-be husband’s best friend, and best man, over to where you were, peeking out of the pastor’s office. You were almost completely ready, all you needed was your veil and you’d be ready to walk down the aisle. Rafe was already in the chapel, talking with your family as they waited for the pression to start.  

“Hey,” Topper came over, giving you a quick hug. He’d arrived yesterday and you hadn’t gotten the chance to seen him because you were staying at your sister’s. You had made Rafe swear that the two of you were going to spend your pre-wedding night separate. “Cold feet? Want me to stall so you can make a getaway?” He teased.

“No.” You laughed, “will you get Rafe for me though?”  

“Yeah.” He squeezed you in a hug one more time, kissing your forehead before pulling away, “you look beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you.”  

Topper disappeared back into the chapel, walking up the aisle to where Rafe was, whispering in his best friend’s ear that you wanted him. Rafe glanced down the aisle, as if he could see you through the doors. He clapped Topper on the shoulder and headed down the aisle into the vestibule where the pastor’s office was. A few stragglers were chatting as he passed them, coming to the door and knocking.  

You opened the door enough that he could just see you, your robe obscuring the dress you were wearing. “Hi.”

“Hey, you trying to cancel the wedding on me?” He teased.  

“No, god, don’t listen to Topper.” You laughed, “I just wanted to see you. I missed you.”

“I saw you yesterday.”

“Rafe!” You pouted, glaring at him.  

He placed his hand on the back of your neck, leaning in to kiss you, “hey, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I’ll see you soon.” Rafe promised, kissing you one last time before letting go, heading back into the chapel.  

Everything felt like a blur that fast forwarded to the vows, standing there at the top of the church, pastor in front of you and crowd of family and friends sitting, watching, as Rafe read off the index cards he’d written his vows on. He’d obsessed over them, from the moment you said yes until now, he’d gone over them and over them and back over them. What if he said the wrong thing, what if he sounded stupid or insincere? But you were looking at him like he’d hung the stars, like no one had ever looked at him before.  

He took a deep breath before beginning, “one time at your parents' house you tried to tell me about something Nancy Reagan said to her husband and I know I cut you off then but when we went home afterward, I read up on the President and his wife and I don’t know exactly what you intended to say but in a letter to Nancy, Reagan said ‘I more than love you, I’m not whole without you. You are life itself to me. When you are gone I’m waiting for you to return so I can start living again.’ When I saw you across the street, waiting outside the restaurant on our first date that was it for me. I knew in the stairwell of Duke that you were it and when you messaged me the first time after that I knew I was never letting this go…”

You listened to his vows, blinking furiously as you tried not to cry. It was a useless attempt, by the second sentence you could feel the tears, probably soaking through makeup that you’d have to redo before pictures.  

“You never told me you read that,” you laughed, trying your best not to cry, “damn it.”

Rafe smiled, that same smugness he always had when he did something he knew you would undeniably love. You pressed the folded piece of paper to your chest, taking a breath before steadily unfolding it and looking down at your handwriting scrawled in successive paragraphs, all collections of feelings.  

“Okay,” you breathed, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to stop crying and then down again at the papers...

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @aoba-josigh @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @outerbanksbro @heavenlymama @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar @lemur46 @under-a-canyon-moon @calums-betch @dpaccione @bbeauttyybbx @teenwolfobx @iccyyyybitch @popcrone818 

[seriouslysam8]

For the ask game, would you please answer questions numbered 2, 8, 14 (all of your titles have such cool names), 18 (I hope Abditory isn't one of them as that story rocks), 21, 24, 29, 30, 33, 34, 44, 51, 62, 76, 82, 85, 88, 90, and 98.

Sorry for asking so many, but I love your work! Entombed gave me so many feels! I found your stories because author Breanie said to read them in her author's notes. Best rec ever! Thank you for answering.

Wow, that is a lot of asks! Thank you so much for wanting to know so much about little ole me. I think I hit them all in this and my apologies if I missed one. Let me know if I missed one. @breaniebree is awesome and my writing BFF. She is amazing, and I love her.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?

So, I’ve written for The X-Files, Supernatural, and Harry Potter. I currently only write for Harry Potter. I would say Harry Potter has always been the most fun.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Random shit. Brontide came to me because I was browsing the HPFanfiction subreddit looking for a story suggestion and someone asked for a story where Harry was addicted to Felix. Only one unfinished dimensional time travel story was listed. It idea sparked me to write my own version. Entombed came to me because I was rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer where Buffy was buried alive. I knew I wanted to bury Ginny alive. As I stated in the author’s notes of last Kalopsia chapter, I drew inspiration from the Djinn storyline in Supernatural. I write about things I know, too. I have young kids at home so I like writing the Potter children as young because I can mimic their mannerisms in my writing. I’ve even asked my kids to say certain words to emulate their speech pattern in my writing if I’m writing that age group.

14) How did you come up with the title for the XXX? You can ask about multiple stories.

I HATE coming up with titles. My newest trend has been to literally Google “unique words”. There are a ton of Pinterest accounts who make fancy word and definition pictures. I scroll through all these little unique words and pick out ones I think fit a story. Sometimes I Google a unique word for BLANK and see if I can get a cool version of that name. @breaniebree actually helped me with Entombed.

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

Sadly, I would put Abditory in this category. Never say never though. I think about it from time to time. Honestly, I abandoned it due to such a negative response I was receiving and the lack of positive response. I became discouraged. It wasn’t even negative response due to my writing, it was literally a bunch of “why would you waste your time writing a story about the biggest plot hole in the books? JKR butchered the whole SK storyline and it’s unbearable to read.” So, basically, my reviews and PMs were filled with JKR hate over that plot point in the books. They heavily outweighed the positive reviews I received. Honestly, I think that’s why a bulk of stories get abandoned - lack of positive reviews or enthusiasm for a story. If I didn’t get so many great reviews for my stories, I don’t know if I’d be able to finish them or continuing writing new ones. Fanfiction is free, (as it should be) but it’s a lot of time and hard work. A little appreciation goes a LONG way. So, my advice, review everything you love reading and encourage writers to keep writing. I always say in my authors notes that reviews make me want to write and inspire me. That’s the truth. The moment I stop getting reviews will probably be the time I take a writing break again.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

@breaniebree. I mean she’s dedicated years to a single story with so many plot lines and characters that I’m amazed she did it. She’s a fantastic writer, and I definitely consider her my writing BFF. I feel like I’ve learned a lot from her and enjoy talking about writing with her so much. I’m so glad we’ve become friends.

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?

Horrified. Anytime I get a little steamy in my stories, it goes immediately to @breaniebree who usually adds way too much smut and then I cut it down to still be somewhat PG-13 in order to appeal to a wider audience.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

I feel like Kalopsia isn’t getting as much love as my other stories. I’m way behind in my normal review count per chapter. I wonder if it’s just the confusing storyline or if it’s just not as fun to read? But I was definitely worried it wouldn’t get the love I thought it deserved when I started writing it and it’s lived up to that expectation.

30) In contrast to 29, is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

Cronus Rising. People still recommend it occasionally and I still get random reviews. I’m like, “why????” Its horribly written and a stupid plot line. I literally was getting back into writing after not writing for a good five years, so it’s abysmal. I’ve often wanted to rage delete it.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

When someone tells me I should write an original novel and they’d buy the hell out of it. I do have some original novel ideas floating around (one I’ve been writing since I was like 15), but crippling fear of rejection from publishers have stopped me from ever actually finish an original novel.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

I got some criticism in Brontide for having drama for drama’s sake with no real purpose or goal for said drama. I felt my drama served a purpose, drove the story along, and I add a lot of fluffy and cute family moments. I feel like in real life, when you to your loved one is going through sometime, it feels like nonstop drama and bad news and like a dark cloud just follows you. I wanted to emulate that in real life. So Harry’s POV was often drab because HE was the one going through something horrific and it was all doom and gloom for him.

44) What is the last line you wrote?

“You never think I listen to your ramblings, but it’s kind of hard to block out, mate.”

51) From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

Um... I’d say a 3. I think I have some good and unique plots for stories but sometimes I struggle on how to execute those on paper effectively. I struggle with descriptions, action, and showing rather than telling. But I do think I’m good at dialogue and capturing a character’s personality. So, 3.

62) Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

A lot! I have a Teddy/Victoire stalker story in the works that I’m excited about. I have (this is going to sound weird) but an outsider rom-com planned where Ron/Hermione breakup right before Hinny’s wedding and Hinny struggles to get them back together before the big day. I have a Potter family vacation fluff/comedy story planned. I have a game night one-shot planned. I have a short story about Luna’s wedding. So many that I want to write and don’t know which one to write first!!

76) Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

I’d say no. I’ve always tried to write my ideas down. Some I’ve never finished because inspiration peters off and some I plan on finishing once my newest big project is done.

82) Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

Harry goes through some shit, and Ginny is his soulmate.

85) Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I don’t understand why people don’t ship Harry/Ginny more. I don’t understand the Harry/Daphne obsessions (like just why???) or the Harry/Hermione ship at all. I always see people asking for story recommendation and they specific say “no Harry/Ginny”. They are literally perfect for one another and they are soulmates.

88) If you could ask one other fanfic author three questions about their writing, writing process, or works, what would they be and who would you ask?

@breaniebree .

1.) How do you organize all your charts? Send me the ALL the charts. Because I don’t understand how you keep everything straight!

2.) How do you write so much? You’re like a little writing machine in a cute little package.

3.) Where do all the ideas come from? In a dream? Just thinking? Driving? Do you write everything out in your head like meeee? Can I have some of your writing mojo?

90) How do you process and deal with negative reviews?

I obsess over them. I analyze them. I may get bummed out and not write for a few days. If you don’t like what I write, then don’t read or review. It’s a hobby. I do this for free. I’m not asking you to critique me. Give me a nice review or ask me a question, but don’t be cruel or mean because you can hide behind a keyboard and be a bully to make yourself feel superior.

98) If you had to give up either snacks and drinks during writing sessions, or music, which would you find more difficult to say goodbye to and why?

Music. I grew up with three older brothers. My house was always rowdy and loud and obnoxious. I need it to be loud. I can’t stand the silence or focus when it’s silent. I need music to help me think and write. When I’m home alone, I always turn on the TV or music, because I can’t stand when it’s silent. I think I’d go insane.

[jlf23tumble]

I’d love to know you’re very most favorite 1D/Harry fics! Like the ones you’ve read over and over. Or if you’re not a re-reader, the ones you think back to often! Your ride or die fics, as it were.

You’re so sweet!! I am definitely a re-reader, mainly because I’ll see a picture, and it just makes me want to at least skim a fave fic, but this one’s a tough one, mainly because some of my faves have been deleted and/or their authors have left the D terrordome, which is fine, I have the PDFs clutched tightly to my chest, it just skews my final tally. It’s also hard because if I loved a fic, odds are I loved at least three other fics the author wrote, too, and none of us have that kind of scrolling time (well, clearly some of us do, lmaoooo, amirite?). Back to your question, though! To keep it under control, I created my own “21 Club,” but I cheated a bit and made it represent authors who have a lot of other fic I love, too, so you can’t go wrong digging in deeper. Puttin’ it under the cut!

No Control, thegirlwthekittentattoo, 2.6k, harry/louis. Anytime I see Harry's latest Rolling Stone shoot, I think of this fic, it has THAT level of power over me, plus it really makes me want to name my bra and give it the respect it deserves.

nobody knows like me, enbyharry/ @non-binharry, 3.5k, harry/louis. The tenderness and angst and sunshine and vintage summer of this fic!! Asia has a gift of making any of their fics feel a certain ~way, all of them different, but the vibes in this one, the gender of it all, truly next level.

all my lies are safe beside you now, HappyPrincess, 3.6k, harry/zayn. If you want to ACHE over fic, Nin's your author, any pairing, but there's something about this one, this Zayn, the way it makes you want to weep, so much beautiful ouchhh (a motif across a lot of their fic, gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous).

sensitive to pressure, momentofclarity/ @gaycousinlarry, 4k, harry/louis. Whew, my god, do I want to read so much more of the sweat and pube kink in this fic, @pubefest2020 had so many GREATS, but this one stuck with me for days.

mon petit, little one, publunchesownmyass, 5.6k, harry/louis. Big win for fans of recreational drug use and that chicken sweater! This author *delivered* last summer, and a lot of their fics are disappearing, so run don’t walk!

Only Thing That Can Quench My Thirst, eyesofshinigami, 6.5k, harry/louis. This is THE pube fic of all pube fics, I think about it all the time, it actually inspired @pubefest2020, and I personally begged the author to write more for it, but she was tied up (and very lovely in general to chat with). God, I love it so much.

Desperate Measures, sulkingroom, 6.9k, jeff/harry/glenne. This one hits different after all those great pictures from the wedding in Santa Barbara. That bathrobe!! I've actually read another tremendous Jeff/Harry/Glenne, but I'm gonna give it up for my fellow Pisces because I just love anything Melissa writes.

Are You Gonna Be My Girl? LoadedGunn, 7.5k, harry/louis. Everyone seems to have a specific fave of this author’s, but this one’s my eternal fave, Harry role-playing as Louis's first girlfriend.

One day to believe in you, mediaville, 7.7k, harry/louis. The way the dynamics in this story are written feels so very 2016, but the entire concept of Louis being cursed to tell the truth is just god-tier.

call me anything you like, but my name is, wishforwishes, 9.9k, harry/chasm. I rec it all the time, but I stg, I stare at the wall about it all the time, too, so there's that! The way this begins and ends with Zayn really does it for me.

give you my fever, beautlouis, 10k, harry/louis. I want to say this was one of the first fics I read in this fandom, and on one hand, it's so wildly outlandish but on the other it's so incredibly GREAT. I really struggled about which beautlouis fic to pick, so let’s just go with some firsts on every front, lol.

it ain't trickin' if ya got it, sarcasticfluentry, 10.7k, harry/louis. God, i wish this fic still had the pictures/tweets embedded, but no matter, I will rec this for every remote reason I can ever possibly think of, it’s that high on my list.

Tuxedo Dress-Up, Blake, 11.9k, harry/louis I swear, THIS is the fic I'd save in a fire, just the way they're both characterized is spot on, plus all the houses Louis shows him are so specifically SoCal, it just feels like home. Louis's exasperation does it for me, too.

Take Our Bodies Higher, @littlelouishiccups, 21k, harry/louis. LISTEN, I love phone sex operator Louis with every fiber of my being, but phone sex operator Harry? The way the client becomes the talker? HOO BOY, the last chapter, too, incredible.

precious little thing, mercutionotromeo, 21k, harry/louis. There he is! Phone sex operator Louis, at your service, but honestly the number of kinks covered here, nicely done (and another author whose work made this a truly tough call, heh).

Nothing You Can Do..., Teumessian, 28k, harry/louis. aka, the Pinterest fic, an eternal fave and so far ahead of its time in so many ways.

hush., Wankerville, 41k, harry/louis. I always struggle to think about which fic would be THE fic at the top of my list, and let me just say, this one's an eternal contender.

Tied Down, @ham-palpert, 48k, harry/louis. I will never stop rec'ing this, I also loved the author's moodboard for it, everything about it is so incredibly cinematic! A movie I'd watch!

Harry Styles Cooks..., sunsetmog, 61k, harry/louis. Yes, it's still a wip that hasn't updated in a year, and yes, this author has written the lourry fic of my dreams, but I don't care, I love this story, it’s the best crack fic ever.

Time Passed, coffinofachimera/ @belialsmiracles, 66k, harry/louis. DEAR GOD, read this fic and see if you can listen to Fine Line or see photos of Tokyo Harry the same way again, a MASTERPIECE.

Turning Page, purpledaisy, 67k, harry/louis. Harry's filming Dunkirk, and Louis's a scarred football star, and this reads like a goddamned movie, it sounds like a song.

(I truly do have way too many other fics and authors I love, but I had to keep this down to something manageable, and these were top-of-my-head ready!)

[mysewingadventures]

It has been so long since I wrote a post and I apologize, I’ve had some sort of creative block and have attempted to write about many different topics but ended up deleting everything because I just didn’t like it. But now I’ve finally found some inspiration again! I started watching Z - The Beginning Of Everything today as The Great Gatsby is one of my favorite books of all times (it’s just so beautifully written!) and since the show takes place in 1918 (with pretty accurate costumes so far but I’m only on episode 3 so I can’t say too much about it) I’ve spotted some late Edwardian-ish dresses that have made me fall in love with the time period all over again. Obviously, Zelda is a very modern girl for her time so she wouldn’t be wearing them but some of the ladies around her were. But either way, I am not here to talk about the costumes on the show but rather about my plans to make something late Edwardian at some point!

As you may or may not know, I am actually not sure if I’ve ever mentioned it before, I’ve actually attempted making an Edwardian blouse before and failed miserably. The white georgette I was going to use now doubles as my fichu for the Robe à la Polonaise. So ever since then I’ve kind of set the plans aside to make anything Edwardian because there are so many details and after my failure I am terrified of using such dainty fabrics. But now that my cousin is engaged I’ve been wondering if I could slightly modernize an Edwardian dress and... wear it to the wedding?

I definitely love the idea of showing up in full 1910 attire but knowing myself I would feel very out of place and stick out like a sore thumb so I want to make something that works for me and for the occasion.

I don’t have a specific design in mind just yet, but I have gathered some inspiration on Pinterest.

Now, most of those stereotypical Edwardian gowns that I love so much are white, but wearing white to a wedding is not something I wanna do so I’m going to be opting for something pastel, maybe a light blue or green? I have to keep in mind that the event is going to be in more than a year’s time and I’ve recently dyed my hair red and I don’t know if I’m still going to have red hair, so I have to be prepared and wear something that matches everything. That rules out pink (which is giving me nightmares right now, I have so many pastel pink shirts in my closet that I can’t wear because it doesn’t look good anymore!!) but I love that champagne-y slightly rose color in the second picture.

I think I’d go for post 1914 for the length, so not floor length but ankle or mid calf. I especially love this as a potential layer:

I love the frills, the lace, the daintiness of Edwardian clothing so much I think it’s my favorite fashion time period. But there’s so much planning that has to go into it, especially since I’ve never successfully made anything Edwardian before and then it has to be modernized so I most certainly won’t find a pattern anywhere. But most importantly, how can I make it work without wearing a corset? (wedding meals... I know it’s possible but I’d rather not...). Maybe I can work my way around it with just a pouffy corset cover and some padding in the right places.

Maybe I’ll try to make a few sketches soon just to go through some ideas!