#me do a basic writing thing called outlining and the fic goes so much better? WROW

[kibblbread]

TRANSFORMERS ONE FANFIC IDEA INCOMING!

Yeah it’s optimus x megatron, sorry not sorry i want to explore their relationship as lovers instead of friends/brothers because I’m a hopeless romantic although i may or may not do that eventually too???

Anyway this fic is being dubbed the Transformers one alternate timeline fic! You can look at the basic premise by clicking the embed link 🔗

You can call it whatever you want the nickname is mostly for me lol

Anyway here is more headcanons and basic outlining for my writing if anyone is interested. I know what its like to be in a small fandom with hardly any fic content for your personal otp 🙃 cries in redhood fandom

So lowkey I want there to be roles within the relationship, I just don’t want to type cast or define either Megatron or Optimus by assigning Top & Bottom. Like people they’re complex and often switch in accordance to what the other needs.

I noticed D16 throughout the movie was a bit more easily stressed and anxious while Orion usually tried to stay more level and optimistic. Pax truly is a good leader. However D16 definitely is also very capable of taking charge, especially when he starts getting fed up with a specific circumstance cough, cough. D16 is very emotional though, and allows that to fuel his motivation and in turn his actions as well.

In my fic I plan to make alt Megatron emotional too! He’s protective and a bit impatient but he’s happy with routine and the mundane of everyday. Also still a nerd and is actually very kind/gentle to not only Optimus but the citizens! Well, outside of the gladiator ring at least.. Megatron never truly gets used to younger bots idolizing him like he does a past Prime. Yes he does become a gladiator, kinda like in the tfp continuity but in this timeline he is still leader of the high-guard as it operates under Optimus Prime’s will. Think basically Cybertron’s army for lack of better terms!

Optimus does his best to be hands on as possible but thats kinda difficult as he is essentially Cybertrons assigned leader and protector. Most operations under his own orders go without the bot ever truly getting to be involved. However, he still takes just about any scrap of time he can to spend with Megatron. It’s pretty obvious to anyone that sees them interact that they’re whipped for one another lol.

Some kinda pivotal moments (spoilers ig??? They’re not too bad though i hope) 🤞🏾

A proposal from Optimus to alt Megatron. It’s pretty early in the fic, and will probably be after I’ve set the stage and done some world building.

Alt Megatron taking on an aircraft form for his transformation! It was just easier for him while leading High-Guard operations but his size, lol, the difference between them is so cute. I’m gonna have so much fun writing

Sentinel being marched through the mines like Megatron originally set out to do. Optimus wasn’t exactly happy about it but never questioned or interfered despite Sentinel’s pleading

Both Megatron’s being partial to holding grudges and indulging in rage. Although alt Megatron has trouble controlling other emotions as well, his mood is contagious for better and worse tbh. Both versions of their auras are captivating and fill any room no matter how big.

Canon Megatron trying to kill alt Optimus on sight because that boy ready to square up 🤭

Shockwave figuring out the switch situation and switching things back without even consulting anyone, spoiler alert — he fucks up

Megatron being disgustingly cute with either Optimus in either timeline because he’s dangerously persuasive and sincere

Yeah that’s really all i got for now. It’s very otp centric but obviously Ill flesh out the others to an extent later.. or not idk if I’ll complete this project or not. But it’s maybe gonna be around 10-15 chapters???

Wish me luck and we’ll see how it goes 😝

[atalossofwords]

YOU TASTE THE SILVER - IvanTill WIP (PART 1)

Hi y'all. The brainrot took me with no warning, and I've written 5k for these two just the last two days. I've no idea how much I'll write, but I'm going to squeeze the serotonin for as long as I can lmao

Anyhow, this is a streamer/actor AU that somehow evolved into a sugar daddy AU. Till is a streamer, and Ivan is a famous actor who found him when he was a small streamer and fell in love; he's been sending donations for a good while now, but they've never communicated outside of it.

Until Till opens his PO box and Ivan's need to spoil Till is too much, at least. Then all bets are off, and Till finally starts thinking more about the stranger who keeps sending him gifts. I have a basic outline for it all, but I'm going with vibes first, since I mostly just want to write them and torture Ivan.

I'm going to be posts little snippets of what I've writer so far over the next few days, so please don't be afraid to come to my inbox to ask about them!

This was inspired by this fic! Check it out!

Till wasn't the most famous streamer there was. Not anything near that, actually, though he thinks he does well enough.

He has an established fanbase, almost 500k of them, he's sold some merchandise and collabed with some pretty nice people. He likes streaming, varying between his songwriting and recording processes and any new video game that catches his fancy.

When he started, he didn't think he'd do this for a living. He probably wouldn't be able to afford it, being a struggling musician as he was, for once.

He couldn't blame his comfortable living situation solely on one person, no, since that would be incredibly inconsiderate of the rest of his fans, but this one Navi person definitely funded Till's move from his old apartment mostly by themselves.

Case in point.

NAVI (TILL'S ATM) DONATED $100: Hyung, how's the new house?

Till reads the donation out loud, ignoring his chat going a little crazy over Navi's donation. By now, Till is used to Navi only ever sending messages through donations. He'd be so flustered, in the beginning, and worried enough he almost disabled them. Luckily Hyuna talked him out of it.

"It's going well. As everyone can see, my studio isn't done yet," he says, gesturing behind himself into the empty expanse of freshly painted wall. At least he'd painted it black already. "but the rest is going okay. I'm really sorry for the week I had to take off, everyone."

He quickly scams the chat, his heart feeling warm as all the people watching rush to reassure him that it's not a problem, he should take care of himself, and how glad they are he managed to move from his shitty rented apartment.

"Actually, I have some news for you all." He scratches his neck, a nervous habit, and looks to the side. Hyuna convinced him to do this, so he knows it's something streamers do, but he can't help being anxious about it. "Since I moved, and this place needs some decorations, I was thinking of opening a PO box and doing an... what's it called? Unboxing?"

The chat is going crazy, he can barely keep up, oh god. He feels his cheeks heat.

"An unboxing live and then decorate my stream setup with some stuff I get. Would you guys like that?"

His chat is a mess of "yeses" and incoherent screams, and Till can't help but smile a little. He's got to say, he's looking forward to this.

The following weeks are a bit of a mess. He streams less than normal, still setting up his new apartment; he goes with Hyuna to buy electronics she swears will make his streaming better.

Dewey, his brother, goes with him to buy a new shelving unit and help him set up all his new furniture. Isaac is strangely fixated on saying Till needs rugs and other things, otherwise his apartment is "just a place, not a home, bro", apparently.

He checks in with his PO box frequently, each day more excited by all the packages he got. After two weeks he announces on twitter he'll be closing the PO box in a week since he wants to be able to open all the gifts on stream and he's already got a good amount of them.

The day after his announcement, he goes to pick up any new packages to store in his living room since he doesn't want to burden the office workers and finds a package that makes his stomach twist in itself.

It's a large box, clearly packed by hand instead of the usual post-service stamps. And it has a large sticker reading "FROM: NAVI" on it.

Till doubts anyone would use the name to get his attention, since he does treat all his viewers equally, so this really is from Navi. He wonders what is in it, since Navi clearly has money to spare and intends to spend it on Till.

"It's probably a maid dress." Hyua says, helping him lug it all to his apartment.

"It's not!" He splutters, mortified. Hyuna raises an incredulous eyebrow. "It's probably snacks, or something like that. Navi's said they travel a lot." That, somehow, just makes the eyebrow twitch higher.

"You remember what your viewers say?" She asks, hip-checking his door open. He follows, frowning a little. He always remembers what his viewers say.

Navi, obviously, since they only talk in donations, but also a few other regulars. Kirby has an older sister they're sharing the computer with; Siren started learning the guitar because of Till, and is doing well for himself; Jaewoon – with the username Till's Merch Overlord – draws and is currently suffering through art university, BonBon who has a one-year-old and listens to Till while doing his household chores.

"Yeah? I mean, there's only so many people who regularly chat. And out of those, a good part are my mods." He says, shrugging. He knows Hyuna pays someone to mod for her, but Till didn't think he'd need a mod, since he never expected to get so many views. He kept going without mods for so long that the most active members of the community ended up auto-modding the rest, at which point Till just reached out and asked if they wanted to mod, and now he pays them for it because he felt bad otherwise.

(Of course, Navi isn't a mod. They'd fit Till's criteria, but they never chatted normally, so it was kind of hard to ask.)

"Aaah, you're just too wholesome, heartbreaker." Hyuna says, sighing, the old nickname that still makes Till confused coming out with a teasing lilt. She waves him off before he can say anything, though, plopping the box on the couch and grinning at Dewey. "Hey, this one you'll definitely want to check!"

Till rolls his eyes as his brother 'oohs' and 'aahs' over the package, Isaac peering over with a pocket knife ready to pry it open. When Till mentioned opening a PO box, he insisted on checking the gifts beforehand, just to make sure they were all stream-appropriate and, most importantly, not dangerous for Till.

He was grateful his brother cared, but he was less amused by the teasing and hint-dropping they'd been doing over the content of the packages. He leaves them to it, moving to the kitchen to get some much-needed coffee.

Looks like Isaac bought bungeo-ppang, so Till fills a mug and picks one, nibbling at it and looking into his fridge. He should go buy more food, but there's a seven-eleven right across his street, so he almost never bothers stocking up. He does need to get more tea, though, since he dislikes drinking water, and for reasons unknown, his chat enjoys it when he drinks on-stream.

He finishes updating his list and walks back to the living room, where Dewey has already closed the package back up, but is holding a small parcel in his hand, frowning. Hyuna looks over as he approaches, a complicated expression on her face.

"The rest of the package is fine to open on-stream, but I think this one might be best off-stream." She says, and the lack of any teasing or barb makes him worried. She must've read that in his expression, because she grins. "Do you happen to know why this Navi person likes you so much? I wouldn't mind getting some of these myself."

Till can't help but scowl, snatching the parcel from Dewey's hands. He doesn't know Navi, not really, but they're still one of his first viewers, and they do kind of give Till a lot of money.

"Keep your hands away from my viewers, hag." He has to move fast to escape her grab, which soon develops into a little keep-away with the parcel, soon ending up with Dewey on the ground howling with laughter as Isaac tries to haul Hyuna off him, curled on himself on the ground to keep the parcel to himself.

"Ugh, you brat! Just open it!!" She exclaims, sitting down on Dewey's lap, making the older man yelp. Till huffs, but sits up to analyse the gift.

It seems to be an envelope, like many of the letters he got, but there was something inside of it, making it weirdly bulky. Till folds it open, tipping the envelope so whatever it is can fall on his open hand, and stares.

There is a pair of... earrings, on his hand.

Diamond earrings, to be precise.

That the fuck.

Till stares at it, then peers inside the envelope. Nothing weird falls out, like a damned credit card or pure gold, but a little recipe with the return address of a high-class jewellery store makes itself known. The rest of the envelope contains a certification for the damned diamonds.

Till curls up back again, head in his hands, groaning. His face is so hot you could cook an egg in it.

Navi got him diamond piercings because Till complained once, months ago, that he wanted to switch out his piercings but didn't have the money for it.

"C'mon Till! You didn't tell me you had a sugar daddy!" Hyuna jeers, and from the hiss and yelp, Dewey just dropped her. The sound of them bickering – Hyuna insisting this Navi person has to be after Till's virtue, and Dewey being insulted by the thought of someone going after his little brother like that, plus Isaac googling the store to throw fuel on the fire – is enough to distract Till form his own freakout.

He sits back up, his face still red, to study the piercings better. There are six items in total. One is a simple diamond stud, a tiny and delicate stone, probably for his second hole. A pair of bigger stones, with four elongated asymmetrical spikes, making it look like a shining star, probably for his first hole. One's a series of round stones inlaid together in a belt, forming a hoop, for his helix piercing. The final ones are two silver loops, delicate and silver, for his double auricle piercing.

He thinks if he puts any of those on, he's going to spontaneously combust.

(Later that night, after Hyuna and Isaac went home and Dewey crashed on his couch, Till locks his bedroom door and tries them on. The pair of star-shaped earrings go on both ears, the tiny stud on his left, alongside the helix, which he takes a while to get on since it is so finicky, he pierced it himself with a safety pin in high school. The hoops go on his right, looking a little lonely with just the earring, remembering Till that he really wishes he had money to get a constellation on that ear.

He's wearing a simple white shirt, ready for bed, that slips off his shoulder to show off the simple moon covered by clouds on his clavicle, clashing with the TILL tattoo he has over his neck. He turns this way and that, watching the diamonds shine, and feels almost bad for using them.

Why did Navi send this to him? What did Till do, to deserve something as delicate as this? He's not the kindest of people, he's kind of an asshole actually, all shouting and side eyes. He's not the kind of guy that can properly appreciate such nice jewellery, not the kind of person that should be appreciated like this.

Still. The diamond shines against his skin, the silver compliments his white hair. He takes most of them off, only keeping the simple snake bites. He doesn't want to somehow dirty up the diamonds.)

part two

[blackkatmagic]

Hey, blackkat!

I've been reading your star wars fanfictions for a while now and I'm seriously intrigued by all of them. My favorite is running with lightning feet and I'm currently reading efface the footprints in the sands--poor Master Kolar...

Anyway, I really wonder how you approach writing. You seem to be able to write very consistently and keep track of many stories all at once, which are things I admire very much about you. Would you be able to give some advice on that?

Also, I very much love your characterization of more 'minor' (less appearance in canon) characters and how you breathe life into them with your dialogue. Really make me wonder how you make that out--what do you consider, or do the characterization/dialogue just pop up, fleshing themselves out?

Yeah, I really hope you don't mind me asking these. Again, love your writing very much. Would continue to read your stories always~~ Thank you for sharing them (and putting all your effort into writing them!)

Hi! I definitely don't mind, and I've answered similar questions before in my writing advice tag, if you want to scroll through some other answers that might be worded better.

For how I approach writing...the inconvenient answer is that it's mostly practice. I've been giving myself a goal of 500 words every day for the last....10-ish years, probably? Just consistently sitting down and doing a thing, writing without worrying about quality and only quantity, with lots of WIPs always going at the same time, really helps in figuring out how to juggle them. I usually keep a file of vague notes, one doc for each WIP with a bunch of keywords and ideas I want to hit eventually, and plot twists I'm aiming for, though I don't ever really outline things, and that helps a lot with keeping track, too.

As far as characterization of minor characters goes, that's the part I enjoy most about writing, and it's one of the easier parts for me, so I'm not sure I'm the best at putting it into words. But basically, you have to get to the very core of how you see the character - what their baseline personality is, what motivates them, what their goals are. It's something that can change between fics (which I think is one of the joys of minor characters; you don't have to stick to one defined interpretation), but it is something you have to nail down, imo. It also takes some filling in the gaps with headcanon and some leaps in logic.

Take Agen for example: canon gives us the information that he lost his padawan on Geonosis, incorporated Tan's lightsaber crystal into his own, and is an incredible swordsman but too blunt and aggressive to be diplomatic, while still being very loyal to the Council/Order. He gets called "the Council's attack dog" in the comics. Also, in the wider universe, we know that Zabraks have a reputation for being aggressive/warlike, and at one point Qui-Gon calls Maul it, even though he has to know what Zabraks are.

Those are all the canon facts. If you go back and fill in the gaps: Agen is someone who's grieving deeply, and he's incredibly devoted. He uses Tan's lightsaber crystal against Palpatine, which means he's sentimental, and he's not willing to speak against the Order in public, so he's at least that tactful. At the same time, he has no patience for people who get in his way, and he's willing to use force to cut through them. He believes in other Jedi until they irrevocably prove themselves traitors, and then he's stern and willing to remove them by whatever means. At the same time, he's very aware of his reputation, and he knows what people say about him/other Zabraks, but he's stubborn enough (at peace with himself enough) that he's not going to change.

From that sort of character summary, you can figure out the way Agen talks pretty easily. He's blunt, and he doesn't always think about the impact of his words, but he can be compassionate and thoughtful, particularly given his own grief. He's willing to defend anyone, and he doesn't make a fuss but always tends towards action - that means short sentences, usually directly to the point with no niceties. He's polite, because that's usually the fastest way to achieve something, but he's not overly deferential. He has a sense of humor, but most people miss it because he's so blunt.

Taking a character and dissecting them like that is something I have a lot of fun doing, which, well. I'm a therapist irl, so that probably helps. But I think it's very much just about breaking a character down into component parts and applying them to whatever you're writing - if you understand why someone reacts a certain way, it's a thousand times easier to figure out how they're going to react in a new situation. And after that, getting them to sound right, getting your dialogue to fit - it's all about practice.

[getinthehandbasket]

Cross-disciplinary training for artists

My entire life I thought of myself as a writer. A nearly-failed author, because I had such a hard time writing, but a writer all the same.

I had no framework for writing anything more than drabbles or vignettes. Anything more than 2k fizzled out. Let's not even talk about papers when I was in high school and college. I thought I had to get it all out mostly-perfect all at once, the first time, and that was so overwhelming that I just.. didn't.

No one taught me about stages. No one taught me about outlining, filling in, refining, etc.

About ten years ago I decided I wanted to branch out beyond my fiber arts (a thing which I am good at) and my writing (a thing which I was not good at). I decided to learn how to paint, how to do multimedia art journaling, how to draw, how to do anything as a visual (but not digital) artist because I like making things.

The thing that surprised me the most was this: artists work in layers. The first few - hell, sometimes even the first MANY - layers are foundations. Underpaintings. Sketches. Blobs of color. Things that look nothing like what the final will be. Art is built up in layers, even fiber arts. All art, I have found, is made of layers and stages.

Now I'm back to writing. I write fanfic. I am now writing it using a "layering" strategy.

I laid out a very VERY vague timeline, and a few notes about a couple of scenes that made me want to write the fic to give those scenes a home.

Then I started noting down beats, and assigning them to different spots in my timeline. Now I had an actual outline.

NOW I'm filling in the outline with scenes. They're not necessarily good. Sometimes it's just a sentence or two saying something like "first threesome here" or "X goes to Y's house to hang out - reason??". Sometimes it's a 2k scene where I meant to do one thing and the characters decided to flirt prematurely instead. I'm not even writing in the perspective (or possibly the tense) I plan to use in the final. I'm currently writing everything from a 3rd person present-tense somewhat omnicient POV. The final fic will have first-person probably present-tense limited omniscience POV, bouncing between my MCs as the POV character.

I'm not even calling it my first draft. To keep that pressure off of myself, it's entirely within a "planning document" and I'm informally calling it my 0 Draft. I'm just telling myself the story, and not necessarily in order.

When I'm done with it, I will open up a new document and start retyping everything, editing in the process, rewriting a bunch of stuff, changing to the correct tense/POV, etc. That will be my first draft, because for some reason (*cough* bad English teachers who thought they weren't the ones responsible for teaching their students how to write essays, papers, or anything else, who required us to turn in "first drafts" of our papers basically for copyediting and that's it *cough*) I have it drilled into my head that a First Draft must be complete and ready to be copyedited. A First Draft can be a shitty draft, sure, but in my head it also had to be nearly the final form. So now I'm calling what most people would call their 1st Draft my 0 Draft.

And once I am done with my "1st Draft" (which is really my 2nd), THEN I will retype it one more time to catch any spelling or grammar or plothole mistakes. That's the version I will have betas read for last-minute checks, and that's the version I will post.

TL;DR - setting writing down for a while and learning other artistic disciplines, even if I nowhere near mastered them, has granted me so much insight into a better way to write. It's given me joy instead of anxiety in my most treasured creative hobby.

I'm not even halfway through telling myself the story and I'm already 13.5k in. After cutting some of my darlings out and moving them to a different doc.

"Cross-training" makes everything easier.

[fandomsandfairytales]

I know it's a pretty old post, but if you're still doing it -- "Finrod finding out that humans (and dwarves) die and having a minor breakdown/existential crisis" for the unwritten fics game?

Thank you so much for sending in an ask for the unwritten fics game!! :D it's definitely not too late or too old of a post!

(Sorry I couldn't get to your ask for a few days, life's been busy.)

So, this was partially inspired by chapter 34 of a Silm fic called "The Harrowing" in which there is a discussion about mortality and Finrod is there. It's not centered around or focused on Finrod, but it made me think about what would happen when he figured out that the Secondborn die.

My initial thought was, "Well, I'm sure he'd be very upset about it," and then it spiraled into this vague outline of a fic, where he somehow finds out about it from Bëor and his immediate reaction is to have that minor breakdown/existential crisis. He would then recover enough to try to reassure Bëor that it's fine, he's fine, he just needs a little time adjusting to the idea.

But then he'd go semi-neurotic trying to make sure that everyone in this human community he's been bonding with stays alive. Stuff like making sure nobody stays outside in the cold for too long, or eats anything that might make them sick, or even falls over. Basically, he ends up treating them all like glass and Bëor observes this with mixed amusement and annoyance until the last straw happens (I haven't come up with what exactly that straw is, but probably Finrod freaking out over a human doing something completely innocuous that he thinks could be dangerous to them). So Bëor has an intervention and says to him something along the lines of, “dude. you can’t keep doing this. everyone’s starting to get fed up with you. all of us humans are going to die one day because of sickness or old age or whatever and it’s just gonna happen and you can’t do anything about it so take a chill pill.” And then Finrod has a full-on breakdown over it, sobbing and hugging him, and Bëor’s just there patting him on the back and wondering what he can say and finally, finally Finrod pulls himself together and Bëor’s like “better now? you know, this means we have to treasure the present” and Finrod goes “yeah, I can see that” with a watery laugh and then they get up and move on, and there are no more incidents of Finrod trying desperately to prevent any possible cause of death (besides what would be normal measures for humans to keep themselves safe).

The general mood of the fic would be humorous yet heartwarming. When a vague plot started to take shape, I was imagining that Finrod would keep freaking out over more and more ridiculous things, to the point that it would almost be a crack fic, but I decided I would really want to keep the emotional points. After all, it would have to start off in a rather emotional place, and it would make sense to end it there too; there would have to be some resolution.

If I do ever write it, I don't think it would be more than a oneshot, and I'm not sure how well I'd be able to balance the lightheartedness with the heaviness. But I'd like to give it a try at some point! Even if it never gets fully fleshed out, I can still hang onto the headcanon that this was Finrod's reaction to finding out about mortality. XD

Thank you again for the ask!

-

-

Link to my not-yet-written/unwritten fics here.

[oleander-nin]

OLLIEEE I'm saying hi because you're still fresh on my mind from the other day (and I'm bored) Also I don't think you talk enough and if you're anything like me (you are) then you probably don't talk about stuff unless prompted through ask games because you assume you'll annoy everyone so SURPRISE

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

OLLIE INTERVIEW TIME

(I'm putting questions in orange because it's WAY too uninteresting if it's all blue. And I don't know I just associate you with orange so I'm assigning it to you.)

What's your favourite colour?

Because I don't wanna put stuff in orange if you don't like orange lmao

How much do you research for your stories?

I always get way too caught up researching things to make sure it's accurate, get off track, and then time goes by and I've exhausted myself before starting :(

How much do you outline fics vs how much typically comes as you write it? Does the direction change as you go?

For me, it's the same issue again. I spend way too much time thinking about a proper fleshed out outline before I even BEGIN and then I just. never start

Are there any fics you've started, but ended up scrapping? (And if so will you tell us about them pleeease)

I have. So many wips. Will I finish them? No. Do I at least try? Also no.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

(Also, am I allowed to just ask questions like this in the first place? More? Less? Should I keep them about writing or can I ask about you? Probably should've asked all of this before. Oops)

(You don't have to answer any of these if you don't want! You're totally welcome to delete this ask and I won't be upset /gen. Just want to bring you out of your shell a little if I can. Or at LEAST let you know I'm curious about you. Also I'm having fun with Tumblr formatting if you can't tell, I'm still new to this lol)

- ☄️

Hi Comet(if you're cool with me calling you that)! and wow that call out was on point lmao. I have a hard time justifying talking on here lol.

My favorite color is yellow, but I basically love every color but green. Never green. I'm very happy to know I give off Orange vibes though, it's top three.

Depends! Usually a lot. I am not a fan of inaccuracies, especially when it's something I can fix by just spending a couple hours reading articles and watching videos. I get the exhaustion thing though! My best advice I could give is stick w/ a video to start with, and watch it while you're doing something else. Whether it's cleaning, cooking, having just the audio playing while you drive(do not watch while driving pls), or anything else. It's good to just absorb the information first and getting into the nitty gritty later.

Ooo, okay. so, I basically make a paragraph of what my idea is first and that's my 'outline'. Then, I kinda just go at it. If the direction changes and I gain a better idea as I'm writing, then I go for it! It'll usually be better with the 'on the job' plot anyways, since it's what flowed more naturally. Don't try to force a plot just because it was in your outline.

Current count is ~39 personal wips. I wouldn't say they're scrapped, just put on the backburner until I finally finish the requests and get motivation to finish them. Though I do have scrapped ones for other fandoms, like a whole fic I planned for a vigilante Midoryia(which I just checked, had only written 3 pages for before ignoring it lol). And also technically the first draft of TWOAL.

Of course you're allowed to ask questions! Anyone can honestly ask me anything they want, though I may not answer all or I'll just be vague with it if it's something I'd like to keep more personal. I freaking love questions, whether they're about me, my writing, or just anything in the world. I really appreciate you doing this, I had a ton of fun and it's nice to know y'all'd like to know about me. Thank you so much.

also take the writing 'advice'/tidbits with a grain of salt. I have had a pretty harsh wakeup call on how I write, and I've learned pretty quickly I'm a bit of an outlier with how I go about it. What works for me may not for you and that's okay!

[thechaseofspades]

3, 13, 27

3: Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

I tend to challenge myself with different concepts and styles with each project so it's hard to sum it up universally. I will say that I do loose outlines, so I always have an idea of where the characters are gonna go in the story. I'll split my stories into scenes or scene concepts, and have those as placeholder chapters for the time being. Once I actually write those scenes, the ongoing word count pretty much dictates whether or not I cut it off and start a new chapter. "Lena's Groundhog Day", for example, averages about 4500 words per chapter, and "Quack to the Future" hangs out in the 3-5k range. Basically, if a scene filled up a decent amount of space, then I call it a chapter and move right along. I won't, however, chop a scene up or bloat it to fit a certain runtime, hence the range.

Usually the story will start as a basic idea ("what if X but ducks"; "let's do a sequel to that one fic"; "I want to write Gosalyn"). I'll usually come up with a first chapter just to set the stage and see where we're at, and then bounce the idea around in my head for a while. I'll think it over on walks, I'll listen to music and imagine the characters, stuff like that. By the time I'm ready to write, I've usually settled on an ending scene, and come up with a couple other beats I want to hit in between. For example, for "Lena's Groundhog Day", I knew I wanted the diner scene with Webby and the ending scene(s) at the amphitheater. The rest came up as I wrote it, for better or for worse but mostly for better in my opinion.

13: What's a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

You know I actually had an odd time coming up with an answer here because I don't really seek out writing advice as much as I probably ought to. I've found that generalized advice isn't helpful for me, and also anything that suggests a change in routine is difficult to implement. Anyway, I'll think of something give me a second…. … … Hey I'm back. I didn't think of anything. The best I can do for you is always save your work because you never know when a bolt of lightning will strike your device specifically and uh oh there goes your progress.

27: What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

My least favorite part of writing is when I'm not writing. I mean when I'm stuck staring at a blinking cursor, can't think of where to go from here. Or I know where to go but not how to get there. Or I've just not written in a while and go "dang I miss doing that". Oh, and I also hate the part right before I publish where I go through like 50 times for spelling or grammar or typos because I have a fear of commitment (only to find mistakes months later when I'm just reading casually).

There are scenes and scene concepts that live rent free in my head before I write them. I'm talking imagining the characters having a back and forth, envisioning the action descriptions I'm gonna use, the works. If I had a thoughts-to-text ability, I'd have a whole collection written I'll tell you what. But I write my stories in order, so a lot of times (especially for endings) I can't just jump in and write those parts down. But when I do, man it's just really cool to see the thing I'd imagined for so long finally pop up in the document. It's crazy. Like I thinked all those words and then bam they're on the screen for anybody to look at. Indescribable. What a world.

Thanks for the ask!

[kaffeebaby]

What kinda stuff are you writing about!!

Most of the stuff I'm writing right now are better call saul fanfics. I've always been more of a fanfic writer as opposed to making original characters and worlds.

A lot of my fanfic ideas are the "What if this happened instead?" genre. Like what if Gus rehired Gale and made him work with both Walt and Jesse? That would change a lot of stuff, and I had explored some ideas months ago, but I kinda stopped thinking about it as much as other ideas that were more interesting to me started crowding my mind. I don't want this post to get too long but also >:3c

Lately, I've been trying to come up with ideas for a fic where Chuck forgets to cancel his appointment when he's having his last breakdown, so he misses his appointment and his therapist shows up at his house concerned. And she ends up getting him to a hospital where he can be treated before he has the chance to do anything worse than tear his house apart. That event would completely change everything else that happens in the show, and would even impact the stuff that happens in BrBa, so it's been a lot to think about. I basically have to figure out a way for Chuck's life to become livable for him, plus I have to figure out how Saul can still happen if Chuck is still there and Kim doesn't divorce him due to Howard and Lalo never happening, and. Many other things.

But I have a rough outline of different things that need to happen, and I'm the type of person that daydreams or fantasizes a lot throughout the day, especially at night, so it's nice to have a pet project that has some interesting challenges. I get to justify thinking about blorbos all day because it goes back to something I want to write about.

The one wip I mentioned in my tags was a Chuck and Howard smut that I was writing during January this year. I planned to have it finished and posted on Valentine's Day, but I got the stomach flu like two weeks before that which completely ruined any ability to write people having sex. I tried to keep writing after I wasn't sick anymore, but it was kinda done for at that point, since the deadline was actually really motivating me. I've thought about trying to write more on it again, and I've even considered posting it in its half finished state with an author's note that it's not done. There are very few Chuck and Howard fics, and I only ship them recreationally, so at first I wasn't so upset and not finishing and posting the work. But the more time drags on, the more I feel like there are people who would actually like to read my rarepair fanfic, even if I posted it unfinished with a warning and the possibility I'd finish it later. It works where it is right now, but it's very much not as long as I wanted it to be and there's a lot more stuff I wanted to add that I just don't feel the motivation for at this point. But also that doesn't mean I should keep it locked up forever.

I have some other fic ideas that I've been floating around, but my brain has been consumed by my Chuck Lives AU for a while and it's kinda hard to focus on other stuff. I do have a google doc of all my fic ideas though, and I visit it every now and then when I'm in the mood to write or want to refresh what all of my ideas are. I've been a lot better lately at actually writing down ideas as they come to me so that I don't forget them later.

[impossible-rat-babies]

our reflections 

wayhaven chronicles | nb!detective x mason | 3.1k words | hurt/comfort | cw: blood & violence | mostly under the cut!

read on ao3

--

Feet stumbling over each other, Pollux’s shoulder slams into the door and he curses loudly. Pain radiates down his arm and into his ribs, scattering across his shoulder blades and ending at the headache welling across his scalp. Breath catching, pain making his diaphragm stutter but he knows this well. Pause, close his eyes, lean against the door, and take a few deep breaths to ease the tightness.

He licks his lips, freshly wet with new blood sliding from his nostrils and he winces; he hopes it isn’t broken, goddamn it. He doesn’t fancy a trip to Doctor Turner this late and end up scolded like he’s fifteen again and got into yet another fight after school. Or worse, getting carted off to the Agency so he can get scolded like he’s just a child who can’t take care of himself. Not to mention everyone would hover and Rebecca would throw a fit over what happened and he’s not at all in the right mind to deal with her right now.

He yanks his keys out of the door lock despite the pain spiking through his hands and wrists and he dumps them on his little console table. He flexes his hands, clenching them into fists and relaxing them. His usual joints pop and crackle, but none of his fingers feel broken or dislocated. The scabs across his knuckles flex and crack, new blood seeping through along with fresh pain to batter against his senses.

He gently kicks the door shut and leans against the table, closing his eyes once more. The pain is still fresh in his shoulders and down across his ribs and he reaches under his cardigan and he feels across his torso. Pressing against the bones and there’s no sharpness, just the familiar ache of bruises. Not cracked thankfully. Still, it hurts like hell and he sucks in a sharp breath that burns his nose. He wipes away the hot fresh blood on his sleeve, looking down at the dark streak staining the fabric.

There’s blood that isn’t his own splattered across his shirt, staining under his nails, in the cracks of his callouses. Thought it would be worse, all things considered. 

Sure, he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him, but he’s been through worse and still come back swinging. There’ll be new dents in his car come the morning and maybe some blood to wash off when he clambers out of bed, but that’s for tomorrow Pollux to worry about. Today Pollux would be more than happy to sleep for the next week and a half and ignore everything else outside of his apartment. 

Maybe he will.

He wrangles himself out of his cardigan, shaking his arm from the offending sleeve and it lands on the floor in a heap that he kicks to the side. Works his shoes off too, abandoning them, shuffling past the tiny entryway and into his living room. Groping blindly through the dark for his bedroom door, he wishes he’d left a lamp on.

“Pollux?”

A voice in the dark and he turns sharply, panic seizing his chest, eyes searching through the dark. His hands clench into tight fists that break the fresh scabs, heart racing in his chest.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s just me...”

Soothing—familiarity in that deep voice, recognition in his scrambled brain. A sharp sudden light from a lamp clicking on and Pollux winces, holding up his hand to block it.

“Fucking hell,” he peers out from behind the bright light and Mason is standing there, the butt of a cigarette hanging from his lips. “Should’ve said something sooner, you asshole...” He huffs, voice hoarse and he clears his throat. There’s the taste of blood on the back of his tongue and he swallows.

“Don’t blame me. I just got down from the roof when you hobbled in.”

Mason snips and Pollux snorts despite the pain. In the dim yellow light he spots the balcony door still open, curtains fluttering in the dull breeze. Of course he used the fire escape instead of the normal people stairs up to the roof.

“Wait, you were hiding around my apartment building?” Pollux asks, rattling his brain for whomever is supposed to be on watch with him tonight and he could’ve sworn they were past this shit. At least Pollux thought since he’d been extraordinarily clear with Ava how he felt on the matter. Quite loud about it too if his memory served right.

Pleas on deaf ears he supposes.

“Better question,” Mason counters, making his way through his living room and closer to him. “You look like utter shit.”

If Pollux didn’t know better, he’d say there’s a biting edge of concern to his tone, grey eyes flickering in the dull light reflected off the wall.

“Thanks asshole. Flattery will get you everywhere.” Pollux bites back, lips curling back.

“Why?”

First instinct catches Pollux, lying before he can think not to.

“It’s nothing—“ he quickly shuts his mouth, biting his tongue.

That doesn’t work anymore—not with Mason, not with any of them. They all read him like a book, know his littlest tells for his lies and Pollux hates it--that hate sitting in his stomach, frustration in his curled fists. He’s invested what little dignity the years haven’t stripped from him in his lies and even still, unit bravo spare him no expense.

“I handled it, it’s not as bad as it looks. I’m fine...” Pollux looks away, finding a nice dark corner to stare into. Saying it’s fine is just another way to lie, but he’s past semantics.

“What happened, Pollux?” Mason presses and Pollux shrugs through the pain, crossing his arms over his chest, burying his bruised and bloodied hands in his armpits.

“There’s nothing to say! Nothing happened, I’m fine.”

“Bullshit, what happened, Pollux?”

Pollux licks the backside of his teeth, frustration building like nervous energy in his legs and hands, the little voice in the back of his mind growing louder. Mason steps closer and Pollux pulls back against the wall, pulling his arms in tighter.

(Take one more step, just one more)

“Trappers, okay?” Pollux admits. “They jumped me in the parking lot of the station near my car. Three of four of them--didn’t get a good look.”

The dark corner is his friend, keeping his eyes off of Mason but he still hears the sharp intake of his breath, feels his eyes on him.

(Stop looking at me like that)

“Pollux, you--” Mason cuts himself off, growling low in the back of his throat. “You didn’t think to call us? To call me?”

“No, sorry I was more concerned about getting out of there than sticking around for a stupid phone call.” Pollux spits back, meeting Mason’s glare with one of his own.

“Were you going to call when you got back here? What were you gonna go do?”

“What did it look like I was doing, asshole? I was gonna go to my bathroom and make sure my nose isn’t fucking broken!”

Mason pinches the bridge of his nose and Pollux holds his meager ground, hands stuffed in his armpits clenching down hard.

“And after that?”

“Jesus christ, I was gonna go to sleep! Or I dunno, eat a bowl of cereal and smoke a fucking cigarette!” Pollux spits, grinding his teeth. “I don’t need to tell you all every bit of my life! I can take care of this myself! I don’t need help all the time, I’m not just some stupid human who needs his hand held and told ‘oh boohoo are you okay honey’ whenever things go wrong!”

Pollux mocks, more words bubbling up in his throat but they get clogged on his tongue, too many to say. Maybe they’re excuses, or lies and he wants to say them—wants to take the worst of them and smash them together into the worst he can think of and then shove it in Mason’s face. Make him take a step back, or maybe leave because he can never just ask. He’s asked too many times, begged people over the phone and no one ever listens--like screaming through a glass window.

Talk is cheap and hands say more than their fair share.

“....fucking hopeless.” Mason grumbles to himself and Pollux bunches his fingers tightly in his shirt.

“If you’re gonna talk then shit say it to my face, Mason.” Pollux spits his name and he knows he’s playing chicken with a speeding car—sooner or later he’s going to get hit. 

Mason turns on him, anger drawing his lips into a snarl and frustration tensing his shoulders,

(take one more step, I swear to god) 

“I said...” He starts slow, meeting his grey eyes and there’s a vicious storm in that grey, “you’re fuckin’ hopeless, Pollux.”

“Good.”

Pollux grinds out, voice low. There’s a hundred meanings in that four letter word, all of them stuffed in the five feet between them and Pollux is daring Mason to ask, eyes measuring. Like stepping out into traffic and watching for the inevitable crash in slow motion, breath stalled in aching lungs and his pounding head. 

Expectations falling flat when Mason just breathes hard, fixing him with a stare that says too much.

Speaking has a nasty habit of making things feel too real and Pollux already feels too real right now. His shirt is scratchy against his arms, sweat dried on the back of his neck and he wants to scratch, to rip and pull at his cuticles. Needs to grab his hair and yank, yank, yank—

Tackled from behind, slammed into his car.  Pinned to the door, arms yanked behind his back. Handful of his hair, slamming his head against the bonnet of the car. Once, twice—

kick back hard against the knee, only way out. Bones breaking under his foot, feeling the knee bow back and further back still.

Good.

Trapper screamed, an ear splitting scream. A punch hitting his cheek, head reeling and he hits the hood. World spinning, vomit rising in his mouth, grabbing the Trapper’s shirt. Slam his head into the hood of the car. Once, twice, three times quick with all his strength, metal buckling and crumbling, blood splattering. Trapper falls limp to the ground in a way that can’t be faked.

Blows and blocks stuttering in his head, the fighting caught between too slow and too fast, frames stuttering by.

Turn just in time to avoid the flash of something in another hand, something shining in the orange street light.

Can’t get stabbed, just need to grab the knife. Blinking, blinking, blinking and blinking again.

(grab the knife)

Overhead light swinging wildly, shadows and light making the bars of the cage dance against the walls. Tackled to the ground, foul smelling water soaking in his clothes, wetting his shaved head. Snarling, nails drawing bloodied lines across the face, fingers scrambling for the eyes. Get the eyes, the softest part. Grab and yank, dig his fingers into the supple and squishy—get the eyes, get the eyes--

(Grab the knife, grab the knife, grab the knife, grab)

“Pollux?”

He nearly jumps out of skin, quickly looking up at Mason and he blinks once, and once more.  Mason’s looking at him over his shoulder, phone is pressed to his ear. He wears worry convincingly enough.

“We need to get you back to the agency to take care of this...”

Pollux frantically shakes his head, staring down at the ground as it spins.

“I told you I’m not going. I can take care of it.” He argues, his tongue like a heavy dead fish between his lips, flopping in the sun.

He’s too raw for this right now, the living room too dark, the singular light tearing into his head like a migraine. And the memories too close. He smells the dried blood already caked to the inside of his nose, legs jittery and he needs to go. The living room is both too tight and too much space.

“It’s not asking, it’s Ava ordering.“

“No. Tell Ava to go shove her orders up her fucking ass, I’m not going whether she likes it or not.” He’s trembling, heart racing in his ears.“Whether you like it or not.” 

Pollux looks up at him and Mason’s eyes narrow. Phone still in his hand, call still going and Pollux barely hears Ava demanding to know what’s going on. 

Tough shit, she’ll have to wait.

Mason looks away first and Pollux takes the chance, ducking inside his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Mason’s voice muffled through the door and he picks his way to the bathroom. Slams that door shut too, hoping that it makes even Ava wince through the phone. 

He flips the bathroom light on, wincing as his headache spikes, the dull off white light coloring his tiles a soothing beige. There’s no shadows here, but still he yanks open the shower curtain to make sure before he digs for the first aid kit under the sink.

He doesn’t know if Mason sticks around as he gets to work, stripping off his clothes. They’re splattered and soaked with blood, the fabric stiff and smelling sharp of iron and he heaps them in the bathtub to deal with later.

The standing mirror is both a blessing and a curse, his nakedness painted clearly in the harsh light. His ribs are already turning sickly pale and tinged with purple, the first signs of the rioting of bruising come the morning. There’s other spots littered across his body, a nice purple tinge from the base of his skull to his shoulder blades.

He sinks to the bathroom rug, the tile still leeching the heat of his narrow body away. He takes in the worst of the damage painting his face, examining the curves and plains decorated with bloodied contusions and more sickly grey skin.

There’s a brief flash to countless other bathrooms, some with off green buzzing lights and dirty concrete floors smelling of gasoline and urine. Others with a kaleidoscope of colors and bass thumping so loud it shook the mirrors; all only a distant thrumming, too busy caught up feeling like he was in nothing but a warm bathtub.

He blinks and it’s gone. Sighing out of the corner of his mouth, he fishes his crumpled cigarette carton from out of his pants, shaking one out.

--

It’s a long while before he opens the bathroom door, busted lip stitched up, contusions covered with bandages and butterfly closures clinging to his cheekbone. The pain is dull, water still clinging to the glass and pain medication discarded on the tile counter.

It’s not dark with the blinds open, the moon nearly full and casting long lines that tinge the bedroom with navy blue.

Miraculously, Mason’s there.

Sitting in his laundry chair, hands clasped between his legs, grey eyes traveling up to find his eyes. Ava must’ve told him to stay, or Pollux vainly thinks he wanted to stay.

He takes careful steps through his bedroom until he’s standing in front of him, Mason’s gaze following him the full way--examining. 

There’s a storm raging in his eyes, lips pulled to a thin line and hands clasped tight. It’s not easy to pin point the lines and looks of distress in Mason’s face, but Pollux has poked enough buttons time and time again to know where his face creases.

“Mason?” Pollux murmurs, his name almost a jumble of letters and he creeps closer. Close enough that Mason tentatively reaches out--hesitating for a breath--before he relents and gently pulls him in. Arms wrapping around Pollux’s waist, face pressing against his bare stomach.

Pollux curls his fingers into Mason’s hair, running his fingers across his scalp in long steady soothing motions. He’s quiet as he clings, fingers smoothing down the vertebra of his spine, fingertips skipping over each bone. Pollux leans against him, resting his head in his hair, taking in the heady scent of freshly smoked cigarettes and warm incense. 

(What home smells like, Pollux can’t help but think.)

“I’m sorry...” Pollux mumbles and the silence carries on, Mason unsurprisingly quiet.

He’s got every right to be angry at him, to be frustrated because Pollux knows he does this every time. Like how a cowering dog backed into a corner only knows how to bite the hand that reaches out.

He only knows the push, not the pull--the biting. Tending his broken skin alone and his broken mind in garish bathroom lights or with doctors staring him down from across coffee tables littered with magazines.

He should know better by now, but it always easier said than done. Hands held out in help curl to fists or flatten to slaps far too easily. The words are the worst, spitting and angry and it’s easier to say the worst of others first. Poke at their pain so they don’t uncover his.

Pollux is just catching the shoe before it drops.

“Just...don’t. Not again sweetheart, please.” Mason speaks, pulling his face away and he stares up at Pollux. Face drawn tight and Pollux brushes a stray hair from off of Mason’s cheek, fingers gliding down to his jawline and Mason’s fingers find his, cupping his hand. Turning his palm to press a kiss there. More following, finding his wrist, looping scars reminding him of zip ties and metal chairs and he smothers those thoughts, finding Mason’s grey eyes to get lost in instead.

“I’ll try.” Pollux whispers and that’s all he has to offer, but Mason takes it with a soft nod. 

He takes all he has to offer, all he’s willing to give and never asking for more. Taking the steps along with him, waiting for him to find his words, a piecemeal affection assembled in the broken paths along the way--a puzzle with all the edges sanded off, but still trying to put it all back together.

“Are you going to stay?” Pollux asks, voice no louder than a murmur, cupping Mason’s face in both of his hands, thumb stroking the corner of his lip, the stubble he finds there.

“Yeah...I’m staying.” He whispers back. 

It all goes unsaid, arms gingerly wrapping around Pollux, picking him up as he stands. Still unsaid as they both climb into bed, Pollux’s fingers finding the hem of Mason’s shirt and he coaxes it off, lips meeting for just a moment. A taste of words unspoken in the millimeters between them, in the negative spaces as Mason wraps his arms around him, skin against skin.

Pollux’s hand finds his, spreading his fingers out in a fan, moonlight setting Mason’s freckles to glow and Pollux’s scars to narrow lines like shooting stars painted across knuckles. The birth of the universe written from palm to palm and Mason closes his fingers around his, drawing him back in. Pulling him back to earth, back to his apartment, back to his bed. Back to words unspoken and grey eyes meet, still thick with apologies and Mason closes his opened lips with a kiss.

[recurring-polynya]

Do I mind if I ask how you approach writing longer fic? I've always struggled to write anything more than maybe two chapters long and I'm curious if you have a particular method to how you approach such stories.

Thank you so much for this ask! I absolutely love it when people ask me for writing advice because it makes me feel like a Smart Person Who Knows Things.

Before we start, here is one grain of salt to take all of this with: I have a naturally long-form brain. It is very hard for me to write something less than 1k. Short fiction is great, and there is nothing wrong with sticking to short things if that's what your brain likes to do.

So. You have decided to write a story. This is going to focus on "stories". Some people write fic that's more freeform or whatever, I am not going to cover that. What I mean by a story is this:

It starts

Some stuff happens

It ends

It is highly probable that your story contains a change of state, which could be that a villain is defeated, or a goal is reached, but it could also be that character falls in love with another, or someone learns to like broccoli.

I like to start out by completing the sentence, "This is a story where _______". This is basically like coming up with a summary for an ao3 post, except that it doesn't need to be catchy. Lots of different kinds of things could go in that blank! It could literally be what happens: This is a story where Ichigo goes back in time and punches young Aizen in the nose. It could be about what you want to explore: This is a story where Hitsugaya gets a better understanding of his zanpakutou. It could be about the vibe you want to achieve: This is an AU where everyone is in a punk rock band and has cool hair and outfits. The idea of this is to clearly define what you, the author, is interested in writing. Make sure it feels right! Maybe you pick the first one, but when you say it out loud, you say, "You know, I really just want Ichigo to go back in time so he can horse around with young Renji and Rukia and punching Aizen in the nose is just an excuse for that." That may sound dumb, but it's fine, actually! Most people don't read stories strictly for the plot, they read stories for the implications of those plots! Will my favorite two characters kiss? Will there be funny interactions between these two groups of characters? Will there be sick fights? Stories are excuses to have scenes. Sometimes, you will have a story where the interesting sequence of events is the draw, but the point is to know what you're about.

Once you feel happy with your "mission statement", you need to decide the bounds of your story: where it starts and where it ends. It may be easier to start with the end. In some cases, it may be obvious from your mission statement: everyone gets home, a villain is defeated, Kenpachi realizes the meaning of friendship. On the other hand, let's look at that punk rock AU. You've picked a vibe, but you don't really have a natural story arc. It has to have a destination, though, otherwise, it's not really a story, it's a recipe for 3 chapters of an abandoned fanfic. So brainstorm a little: Maybe they get a record deal? Maybe they win a Battle of the Bands? Maybe Byakuya accepts that the band is actually good and tells Rukia he is proud of her. Do not settle for a plot just because it works. Pick something that makes you excited! You're the one who is gonna have to write it!

I said that we needed to pick a beginning point, too, but I'm actually going to skip that for now. The next thing I do is think of all the Big Scenes I want to write, the ones you are hype to write, the ones that pop in your head as you think about the premise. Make a bullet list. They don't need to be in order. The descriptions don't need to be super detailed, but write down anything about it that is important to you. If there's a mood or a snippet of dialogue or a joke you want to make, go ahead and jot that down so you don't forget it later. What you're doing now is putting broad blotches of color on a canvas, filling in space and leaving the detail for later.

Once you are pretty happy with what you have down, try to arrange it in chronological order. Put your end at the end (if it wasn't one of your big scenes, add it now). The next task is figuring out how to traverse your scenes. You've already picked out where you want to spend the majority of your energy. The rest, I regret to tell you, is your slog writing. Now, it often happens that you will find joy in some of these scenes and your best writing may occur there, but that's serendipity. These are the scenes that you are gonna have to make yourself sit down and write, so you honestly want to limit them to just the ones you need.

So how do we do this? Look at the first thing on the list. Can you start there? If so, congrats, that's your beginning. If you can't, what needs to happen to get to there? Where can you start so that you can get to your first fun scene as soon as possible? There. That’s it. You’ve picked your beginning, good job! Now, go through the rest of your list, and add in things that must happen, even if you don’t particularly look forward to writing them. The characters need to travel from geographic point A to point B. Shuuhei needs to say something that Izuru hears and misinterprets. The Central 46 makes a new law. If you have a good idea of how these things happen, go ahead and write them down, but it’s okay if you don’t know yet. Fill in all the blanks so that if you think of each bullet list as a scene, you could read it as a story, start to end. Once you get writing, you might add more scenes, or move things around or whatever, but you should have a thing that functions as a story.

If you struggle with this, an alternative is a story with a very strong structure that is going to guide you though what you have to write.Here are two examples from my own stories Hold On, Hold On (which is only one chapter, but the principle is the same) is structured around the 5 stages of grief. Not Broken, Just Bent takes place over roughly a week, and I just decided what happened every day of the week. See You on the Other Side takes place in the middle of a bunch of canon events, which worked at mile markers.

Congratulations. You’ve just made a rough outline!

Special note for avoiding burnout!: I am a slogger. I will drag myself through the broken glass of an interminable plot to get to a single thirsty scene. That's why, at this stage, I try to look at the ratio of what I want to write to what I must write. It's gonna vary for everyone, but this is a hobby, and if looking at this proto-outline makes you feel deeply tired, maybe this isn't a good story to be devoting your time to! Can you carve it down? Can you chuck two scenes you really want to write and get rid of 80% of the slog? Or maybe you can't! In that case, just write that thirsty scene as a standalone drabble! Or just go work on something else! Maybe in the future, this one will come back to you and you’ll have a fresh idea or a renewed enthusiasm for it.

Another thing I sometimes like to do at this point is to write out some notes about my characters and their motivations and moods. Character A is homesick. Character B is so determined to defeat the enemy that they are having a hard time being sympathetic to Character A. Character C cares for both A and B and is trying to support them both. This is sort of background info that you want to keep in your head as you are writing. Depending on the type of story you are writing, this might actually be the main plot, or it might be happening subtly, but adding to the emotional impact of the story. It’s very easy for me to write these sorts of emotional arcs, but if you struggle with that, you may wish to go ahead and made a more detailed outline for that, too.

Now, it’s time to start writing! I am great at beginnings-- it is very often the case for me that the opening scene was one of my Big Tentpole Scenes. (Before you hate me too much, I make up for this by being double horrible at endings; just let me have this) Usually, I will start at the beginning and write linearly for as long as I can until I get stuck. Then, I will look forward on my outline and do the next chronological scene that I feel like writing. In general, if I sit down to write and there is something I have an urge to write, that trumps everything else. Inspiration is a precious commodity, and you should embrace it when it hits! You can slog any day. I will occasionally hold off writing a scene that I really want to, because I am saving it, like a prize for myself for getting that far. This is a very personal process of figuring out what motivates your brain and then giving your brain what it needs to be its most productive.

Eventually, you will run out of things you are excited to write, but the good news is, you’ve got a bunch of story now! Odds are that what’s left is going to be a lot of those connective tissue scenes, and you’re just going to have to do them, except that now, because you’re connecting two concrete points instead of two abstract points, it will be a lot easier. You can continue running jokes you’ve started. Maybe you invented a cafe in an earlier scene where your characters hang out and you can have them return there. Try to think of ways to make these scenes more fun, both for yourself to write and for your reader to read. 

Around this time, I like to start refining that rough strokes outline into what I will call an “as-built” outline. (This is an engineering term where you update your plans or models for something to reflect any changes that had to be made along the way). This is a great activity to do at times when you feel like you have writers block. I write down every scene I have written as a 2-3 word blurb, in order. I break the scenes into what I think makes logical chapters, and I will do a word count on those prospective chapters and write it down. As you do this, you will realize that maybe you can move a scene from here to there, which will make it 1000% easier to write. Things may be happening too much, or you’ve got the characters eating three times in the same chapter. If you have subplots and dangling threads, this is where you make sure they get closure. I know this sounds very headache-y, but you are so far along in the story at this point that it’s really not-- it’s a way to look at the problems you have left. Use some sort of formatting (I like to bold things I haven’t done and sometimes I put them in red) and it gives you a very visual to-do list.

You specifically mentioned multi-chapter fanfics and I admit that I don’t tend to think in chapters, I tend to think of the story as a whole and just break it up where it feels natural. The as-built outlining I described is very helpful in making sure that my chapters feel balanced. They don’t necessarily need to be the same length, but I like them to have the same amount of stuff in them. One chapter may basically contain one long scene, and other may contain many short ones. I don’t tend to, but you can certainly have a fanfic that varies between short and long chapters, that can actually be an interesting effect. But like I said, I always like to know what I am doing, and so having it mapped out, you can say “welp, this is what I’ve done, how do I feel about that?”

Polynya, you may be saying at this point, do you write the whole fanfic before you post any of it? and I regret to inform you, the answer is yes. A lot of people write as they go, and I have made one attempt at this and I didn’t like it. I don’t like locking myself in, I just need to be able write out of order and go back and change things. Here is the story of a little in love: someone gave me an AU prompt and I got mildly obsessed with it, and wrote 5 snapshots drabbles in that universe, ending with a slight cliffhanger ending. I probably should have stopped there, but I decided to keep going. I wrote out an outline of 5 acts where the first act was detailed to the degree of each chapter being specified. The chapters here were much smaller than I usually make chapters: 1-2k. I wrote act i and ii and it was actually great, and then I hit act iii which required a lot of set up for misunderstandings and a mini romance arc. I couldn’t wing it, but nor could I figure it all out with outlining. I write dialogue in almost sort of an improv “Yes, and...?” style, so until I do it, I don’t know what’s going to happen. So, what I did was treat the second half of act iii as a complete story in the process I describe above, wrote the entire rest of it, and then posted it. One might notice that the chapter lengths grew to 3-5k each. I have two more acts to go, and I haven’t decided how I am going to do them yet, but I suspect I will treat each of them as their own mini-stories.

(I will admit that in Heart is a Muscle, I tend toward chapters that are about 10k long, and this is honestly too long, someone should smack me. If you like punchy chapters, 1-2k is good. I think 3-6k is probably an ideal chapter length. Is this how long the chapters are in my latest fanfic? Absolutely not.)

Okay, so there’s one more step, which is quality control. I am habitual re-reader-- I read my fanfics-in-progress over and over and over while I am working on them. I understand that not everyone does this, but I am usually the primary audience for my own writing, and this is the actual fun part for me. Nevertheless, you should re-read your work at least once, to make sure it hangs together.

This is purely optional, but I recommend it: get a writing friend (if you don’t like re-reading your work, I recommend this even more strongly). If you can get a full-service beta reader, that’s great, but if you can’t find someone, or if receiving that level of critique stresses you out, it’s perfectly valid to just find a friend who will read your stuff and a) shower you with compliments, b) reassure you about parts you aren’t sure about (or suggest ways to help) and c) point out any huge problems you missed. When I am writing a long fanfic, it is a huge motivational factor for me to be able to send my beta chapters as I finish them. If you are already an established writer, and you have people who consistently comment on your fic, they might be overjoyed to get a sneak peak at your work.

And that’s it! That’s the way I do it, anyway! Some people are able to sit down and write a very detailed outline and the write it start-to-finish. Good for them, I say! I have tried this and it doesn’t work great for me. I will admit that some of my fics (especially my early ones) I just sat down and banged out whole-cloth like an insane person and they are generally better than the ones I actually plan out, but that’s not a reproducible process.

As one final mechanical note, I usually write in Google Docs, which I can access on multiple devices (I used to write a lot on my phone), has convenient sharing functionality, and I use the ao3 html formatting script add-in. I generally have two documents for a single story-- one is the outline, and any other notes I want to have handy. I’ll usually put a trashcan space at the bottom for scenes that got cut but I don’t want to lose. The other is the fanfic itself.

I hope this is helpful! Please feel free to follow up with other questions and good luck with your writing!

[greenhikingboots]

For the Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask : 🥺, 🎢, 💖, 🦅 Thank you🥰

LoulaNorth! Who leaves the most wonderful comments on AO3. Hello, darling! Thanks for the ask. Always fun to play along with these things. This is my Jonsa page, so I'm going to focus on Jonsa fics for these answers. Also my laptop is being wonky, so I couldn't link the post being refrenced. I'll try to remember to add it in the replies later. Here goes! - Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your chaters that never fails to put you in your feels? Oh goodness. I love a good confession of feelings scene. I had a lot of fun with my Jonsa one-shot, A Boy in His Cups, because it's a remaging of Jon's first POV chapter in AGOT, where he already knows the truth about his parnets. Which meant he was super in his feels in that fic. A mix of woe is me self-pity but also self-righteous, I'm better than Joffrey and Sansa should be mine. And pining! Basically, I just love having all that going on at once, in the middle of admitting feelings because -- ah! -- they're so strong the character just can't hold them back anymore. Such fun. - Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride? I'll go with the first Jonsa fic I ever started writing which was called For Better Dreams. It's taken down now, but I hope to eventually rework it and republish it. It was show inspired, a S6-8 fix it of sorts, but as I was writing it I was reading the books for the first time and reading so many amazing metas here on Tumblr. And that sort of made me lose interest in writing about show elements I'm no longer confident will be included in the final books (if they're ever finished). So I quit that fic when it was about 75% done with it even though I was very proud of the quality of writing I'd written. Since I hope to go back to it eventually, I guess that means the wild ride isn't over yet. - What made you start writing? I wrote for a different fandom for 8 or 9 months before I started writing for Jonsa. What made me want to write for that one was a desire to see more fics with a particular element of canon-compliance that I liked but thought was too often overlooked. What made me start writing Jonsa? Nothing too specific I guess. I read a couple one-shots that I liked and was basically like, "Yup! Let me get in on this action!" - Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants? I outline but it's a very loose outline. As I write the chapters in more detail, some pieces get moved, some get removed altogehter, a lot get added. I also relate to GRRM saying he's a "gardener" when he writes -- sometimes I plant little ideas I'm not 100% sure how I'll use later on, but I do it anyway because it makes the characters and their situations more flushed out, which I like. Plus, I've been trying to remind myself that fanfiction is supposed to be fun. Stories don't have to be completlely polished and perfect to be enjoyable for both writers and readers. That's all I got. Thanks so much, Loula. I'm flattered you wanted to know. 🥰

[ghoste-catte]

multiples of 9

@sagemoderocklee i know it's you

9. How do you find new fic to read?

Go to the GaaLee tag and sort by new, lol, since I've read almost everything in there at this point. If I'm joining a new fandom I'll generally sort by complete and under 15k by kudos for the pairing I'm interested in, or find an author I like and go through all their works and bookmarks, but in my old age I've become deeply accustomed to my single ship. I miss the reclists of ye olden LJ days; they were a great way to find hidden and underappreciated gems.

18. If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it involve?

Since you didn't specify a fic, I've got a couple of sequels/expansions on my existing fics planned.

For years now I've been planning to write a remix of if nobody moves, nobody will get hurt called 'if nobody gets hurt', which is basically the original story but expanded and from Gaara's POV.

There's an after-the-happily-ever-after epilogue to The Stolen Child that's actually based on a post someone made about it here on Tumblr ... but I need to ask their permission first, and I've been too shy.

There's a prequel to Worship as I Please that goes into the much-requested alcove in Grass Country, though probably not in the way that most people are hoping for (it's a pining-while-fucking fic, so heavy on the pain).

There's also an epilogue to To Love Like Broken Glass that @we-return-in-waves requested, which I won't give too much away about.

And finally, there's a part 2 to Try Again, where Lee teaches Gaara to do much more than kissing.

27. How long did it take to write [insert fic]? Describe the process.

Since there wasn't a fic specified, I guess I'll go with my most recent fic, Tsuru no Danna. I originally hoped to write the fic in one, one-hour sitting like I've done with a couple other fics recently, but it ended up being a bigger story than I planned. Ultimately, though, I think I wrote it in like 3 hourlong sittings over 2 weeks or so? That doesn't include the amount of time I spent outlining and 'marinating' on it (by far the longest part of my process). I also had to forgo my entire typical editing process so that I could make it in time for HorrorFest.

36. Do you visualize what you read/write?

Oh, definitely. What I write way moreso than what I read. When I'm reading, I'm generally pretty immersed in the story, so unless something's just super-duper visually evocative, I'm just really absorbed in the words more than anything. When I'm writing, though, I definitely swing wildly between "I know exactly how I want to describe this and the perfect words that sound lovely together" and "I know what's supposed to happen in this sequence and what it would look like but have no idea how to describe it." A lot of my clumsier, uglier sentences come from the latter, but sometimes striking at something 4-5 times to get the perfect sequence churns out a decent one, too.

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?

I think I've improved on a lot, honestly; when I look back and read my first fic from 2017 it feels very amateurish and awkward to me. But I think I've most improved on developing my own author voice as well as (to an extent) being able to sometimes evoke the voices of other authors. I've gotten a better sense of how to word and pace things to give a poetic feel vs. a fairy tale feel vs. a childlike feel and so on. It's been a journey for sure!!

questions for fic writers - ask me some!

[myevilmouse]

If you are still doing the writing asks, 10, 28, and 31!

I am still doing the writing asks, so thank you so much for asking me @das-flamingo! I appreciate the opportunity to share some thoughts and kill some time with you this evening! 😘

10.  Top three favourite fic tropes.

Oh what a fun question!  And I never know what to call things so I went to tv tropes to figure out what my “name kink” as I usually call it is, because that is the first one that came to mind.  According to the ‘net, my name kink is actually the trope “Significant Name Shift” and I SWOON for this and love reading and writing it.  My OTP Luke/Mara and my evil OTP Thryce both fit so well into this. 

For Luke and Mara it’s when she goes from “Skywalker” to “Luke” but it REALLY is fun with the Grand Admiral and Governor because you have levels of significant name shift here, really.  You can drop titles (from “Governor Pryce” to “Pryce”) and then you get to move to “Arihnda” from there! 

And it works with Thrawn and all the ladies, really, they have to deal with his rank or if it’s a fraternization ship, we get to drop Ensign or Commander or Commodore or whatever I LOVE IT!  I always always make it a bit deal how Thrawn says Pryce’s name and how weird she finds saying his without the title and I adore it so much.  OK I stop gushing now. Clearly a fave.

Second, I have to say “there was only one bed” although I haven’t written it much (I combined it with “huddling for warmth”, which is a classic for a reason!), in my fic Catalysts.  This trope just melts my butter.

And I guess third, I will say language tropes.  I love languages and work "fake" foreign language as much as possible into my fic, it’s so damn sexy, I call it my language kink.  So you will find lots of Cheunh, obviously, but also I have written fics featuring Ryl, Sith, Mando’a, Aqualish, and probably some more.  Languages are SO FUN I love the nuance and depth they can bring to a relationship, particularly language learning and cultural differences uncovered through language.

28.  Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

I love this question and also hate it, because it reminds me of how different we all are and how useless I personally find most so-called “writing advice” to be.  But I humbly offer the following:

First, my best advice for writing is “just do it.”  If you have time and the inclination, write!  Sit down and get started and see what happens.  As a pantser, that is what makes the most sense to me.  No need for every detail, even a plot, just like “I’m going to write about X for a while” and GO!

The second piece of advice I have is “read”.  And, snob that I am, allow me to suggest you read the 'good' stuff, the “literature” that wins awards, the stuff that is on book lists for a reason.  You might be surprised how absolutely gorgeous language can be (I tend to love the classics and bemoan the quality of most popular fiction today) but also how gripping and beautiful those books can be with pure storytelling.  But definitely also read the fun stuff, the stuff you like that is “beneath” the critics or curricula.  I absolutely adore some horribly written books, but whenever people ask me how I learned to write I basically have to admit I owe it all to the amazing writers I grew up reading.  The more you read, the better you will write, I am 100% certain of this as an equation.

Oh and a bonus piece of advice:  feel free to ignore ALL advice!  Do what works for you, whatever that may be.  If you need moodboards or outlines or index cards or playlists or dark corners or a set schedule or whatever, that’s all perfect and valid and don’t let anyone tell you differently.  If you do something different every time, great!  If you hate to read but love to write, go for it!  No one knows what works best for you better than you!

31.  What was the most difficult fic for you to write (but in the end you made it)?

Most fics, thankfully, are not a chore, but a pleasure to get out of my brain.  I am so lucky that my muse is an ever-present, sometimes uncooperative bitch, but I do have an answer for this question!  Command Performance.  It was my first published fic on AO3 for Luke/Mara, my first foray into the “modern” world of fanfiction, and I wrote it as a gift for a very talented @teagrl who also generously served as a supportive cheerleader and demanding beta.  There were some pushes and pulls along the way (particularly setting up the scenario) and I learned a great deal from the experience.  I wanted to write a non-con-esque fic (in this case a fantasy Mara’s handsome husband is willing to fulfill) and apart from the darker themes that go along with that, I had never had a beta before and so it was a whole new world of edits and suggestions and brilliant ideas that made it challenging and much more work and time than I had anticipated.  Then of course there was the absolute terror of posting it once it was ready and wondering what would happen.  Thankfully what happened is I made some amazing fandom friends, was blessed by generous readers who supported me, and here I am 100 years later with a tumblr and everything and getting awesome asks from people like you!  And this was a great selection of questions, thank you so much again @das-flamingo! You agree with me right Luke?

The writing asks are here if anyone else would like to ask!

[chitsangenthusiast]

can i ask about your writing process? i’m just curious like how do u go from thoughts to outline to drafting to posting? how long do u work on something before posting? do u have a beta? i feel like your word choice is so intentional and distinct and that’s pretty unique to your writing style :)

!!!! first off: thank you so much ���🧡 my writing style is definitely a product of being inspired by writers who love to take the time building scenes that you can really see and feel, as well as just being ridiculously in love with tiny details!

but also: i'm really bad with words+at picturing things in my head at first lmaooo it takes a lot of work to get to the final version and my writing process is honestly a mess, but usually goes like:

generalized bare bones plot -> conversational 5+1 fic format outline -> shitty first draft -> second draft to begin ""stage blocking"" -> drafts 3-500: wordsmithing until my fingers and brain hurt -> final review and then post :)

i call myself a slow writer but really i'm just a slooowww editor bc of the wordsmithing part lol

since the summer i've really allowed myself to indulge in my writing style, so not only are things longer+take more time to edit (mallrat chpt 1 is like 5.3k words vs chpt 5 at 16.8k lmfao), but i also do in fact try to be really intentional with my words and descriptions. it's a huge compliment that you think the same, bc it's a fun/painful part of writing that is damn near heavenly when i'm finally satisfied with how i write smth 🧡

but my biggest bestest writing aid? naps lol <3

(a v lengthy, more detailed process stages explanations under the cut, if interested!)

generalized bare bones plot: i'm actually v big on starting with basic plots/concepts and then, if needed, molding the idea to fit specific characters. some are obv specially built (hmlyd!), but being primarily plot-focused inspires me to just write vs worrying abt getting everything on brand/in character right away

conversational 5+1 fic format outline: i enjoy writing fanfic basically the same way i like interacting with fandom, so how i write my tumblr posts+tags are generally how i begin my outlines! they're basically lighthearted conversations with myself lol it's like my version of rubber duck debugging? but doing it this way and in a 5+1 format forces me to figure out the major plot points bc otherwise i will 100% lose the plot lol

shitty first draft: and it's shitty ofc! helps me decide how to lay the scene/chapter out as well as the overall emotions i want characters to feel. writing a first draft is fairly easy bc it still follows the outline's conversational nature to an extent, but also the words are bad and basic and repetitive and there's more [bolded brackets] than actual content, bc i use them as reminders to fix things/find better words later so to not break my focus

stage blocking second draft: i didn't realize this until it was pointed out to me recently, but i will do a terrible imitation of stage blocking in the second draft. obsessed with details = having /very vivid/ imagery in mind when i'm writing a scene, and so i try to do a first pass in describing everything as best i can here! i also tend to act out certain motions/facial expressions until i can figure out how to describe them lol

still lots of brackets and bad/repetitive words, but getting there!

wordsmithing drafts: jk not getting there <3 this is where all the emotions and actions and etc get attacked until i've properly obsessed over every word and description lol

this is a stage that's become more and more involved as i indulge myself with my writing style tbh. sometimes it goes extremely easy! sometimes it's very painful!!!! hmlyd took a combined seven drafts between the two chpts before posting. mallrat chpt 5 took 26 🙃

i keep an extra word doc on hand to catch any lines/dialogue/etc that i decided to change or remove altogether, just in case they can be used again later, or to replace any of the edited stuff if i like the original wording more!

(or. even to be used in other fics. i've taken lines that were originally meant for hmlyd and put them into mallrat lmaoo)

final review: i use scrivener to write in bc it nicely groups things together in one place (example below), but i do a final review in word to find any grammar mistakes and still-too repetitive words. i use word as my final attempt to be a bit more creative/deliberate with the words i choose lol

and then! post!! whew 🧡🧡

[emilyplaysotome]

Queen’s Choice: Part 4

This is the fourth chapter to a multi-part smutty fic with the MLQC boys. 

Catch up:

 part 1 part 2 part 3

I don’t feel nervous until I’m in the elevator, on my way up to see him. 

You’d think I’d be used to seeing Victor by now, and even more used to him giving me grief about my presentations but I’m never prepared enough when it comes to him. 

I realize it’s because I owe him in more ways than I feel comfortable admitting. 

I owe him for helping my company and for saving me. 

Again and again and again. 

I know that they all care about me, but Victor has this uncanny ability to appear and whisk me out of harm’s way. I shudder when I think about what might have come to pass had it not been for him. 

Goldman is the one who breaks me away from my thoughts and I make small talk with him as he leads me to Victor’s office. I’m dressed slightly different, with a tight pencil skirt that’s flirting with being a bit too skimpy for me and a conservative blouse so it looks like a mistake. 

I’m not wearing underwear and I can feel my heart racing as I interact with a man outside of my target, worried that he can tell and I’ve accidentally exposed myself.

That doesn’t seem to be the case though, thanks to my blazer that covers my chest and I take a deep breath as I enter Victor’s office, the door shutting behind me. 

He looks even more handsome than I remember and I remind myself that my intention for today is to tease, not necessarily seduce - though I’m open to the latter. His eyes are glued to his computer screen, and he doesn’t so much as glance up in my direction as I take off my blazer and sit in front of him. 

The fabric of my blouse rubbing against me combined with the chill of the offices has made my nipples erect, and I resist the urge to cover up, instead arching my back to give the illusion of a fuller bosom despite barely filling out an A cup. 

When he does finally look at me I see a flash of irritation in his face before he says, “Your presentation was filled with errors.”

“What!? Really?”

I’m genuinely shocked because I spent so much time checking and rechecking my work and without thinking I run beside him, behind the desk and bend over to see the computer screen. As a result I can feel my skirt riding up and I wonder if I’m as exposed as I think I am. 

Victor doesn’t seem to notice this though, exasperated he walks me through what I need to do better and I end up forgetting about teasing him and take notes diligently. It’s because of this that when he finally asks, “Are you trying something funny with me?” I don’t understand what he’s talking about at first. 

“What?”

“You really are a dummy, you know that?”

With that he pulls at the back of my pencil skirt, his fingers accidentally brushing against the top of my thighs. I blush uncontrollably and nervously scuttle back to my chair. 

“I didn’t want panty lines,” I whisper so softly it’s barely audible but he hears me and sighs again. 

“I’m driving you home and you’re changing so no one else sees you like this.”

“Is it that bad? You don’t...like it?”

It’s then that he pauses and with an eyebrow raised asks, “Is this for me?”

“Maybe.”

He grins now and I’m worried about what will come next. 

“Have you dumped those other 3 and come here to confess?”

“What other -“

“Let’s not act like I don’t know and you don’t know. Call me when you’re done with them and then I’ll fuck you silly right on my desk if you want.” 

He goes back to work and I’m stunned by his the straightforwardness of his response. 

“I...”

“Was there something else?”

He’s smirking when he looks at me and I can’t help but feel like he’s enjoying playing with me like this. 

“I want to negotiate.”

I can tell that this intrigues him. He puts down his pen and sits back in his chair, crossing his legs and waiting for more information. 

“I agree to stop seeing one of them and we see what we are like together.”

He laughs and my face instantly feels hot. 

“Why is that funny? Aren’t you curious too?” I say a little too loud and with an indignant expression I can’t help but have. 

“Dummy.”

He leans forward in his chair, putting his weight on his elbows as his closes the distance despite his grand mahogany desk between us. 

“I’m not curious because I already know.”

My face burns but I don’t back down. 

“Well I don’t. Offer stands.”

He considers this and with a smirk says,

“Three.”

“That’s basically confessing! I’m not ready!”

“I thought we were negotiating? I have the upper hand you know....”

“Two! And that’s my final offer.”

“I’ll consider it. But for now, let me take you home.”

—

I feel rejected as I sit in the passenger seat and far more disappointed than I expected to feel. 

None of them have denied me, and I can’t stop fantasizing about what it would have felt like to have him capitalize while I was next to him, bending over. I think about how his fingers could have entered me and how exhilarating it would have been to fuck on that grandiose desk of his. 

But it looks like I won’t find out. 

The car pulls up in front of my building and he says, “I’ll be in touch. Cover up in the meantime if this was really for me...”

“Huh?”

He sighs but he doesn’t look exasperated. He looks gentle and tender and loving and he says, “I’m trying to tell you that I love you as you are.”

He drives off before I can reply. 

—

My head is filled with fantasies of Victor beyond the ones in his office after he denies me. I check my phone to see if he has agreed to my terms but I don’t see anything from him. 

I feel frustrated but I also don’t know who I would pick. 

I really don’t want to choose. 

In the days that follow the intensity of the fantasies increase and I find myself alone in bed touching myself to the thoughts of being with him. I get messages from the others but I’ve got tunnel vision. 

I’m a woman obsessed and whose curiosity needs to be satiated. 

I eventually buckle and write him, asking if my terms have been agreed to, all the while not knowing who I’d pick. 

I get no answer. 

—

I’m thinking about what my next move is a week after our encounter in his office. I’m home, wearing a comfy pj set, hair still wet and fresh out of the shower when there’s a knock at my door. I’m honestly wondering if Lucien has returned next door but it’s Victor who I see through the peep hole. 

He’s holding something and looks impatient and I eagerly open the door, forgetting that I’m not exactly in sexy attire. 

“I’ve brought a contract,” he says, breezing by me and heading to kitchen to fix himself a drink before walking over to my couch. He’s clearly come from work, but he’s loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, indicating that he’s done for the day.

I sit beside him and confused mumble, “a contract?”

There’s a snort and he says, “Our negotiation? Or have you already forgotten?”

“No!” I exclaim, but my heart sinks knowing what’s most likely in here.

When I look over the papers, I’m surprised to discover that there’s no mention of parting ways with anyone. Instead the demands are...far more accommodating to my desires. 

The contract outlines in details how we shall entire an exploratory phase with each other, and will not finish until both parties are satisfied. This period has no deadline other that it will last until both parties are satisfied.

There is one catch. 

With each week that goes by, I have to say goodbye to one suitor. Two weeks, two men total. Three weeks...well, the decision will be made by then even should we not have a label on our relationship. 

Victor smiles as I realize the contract is outlined in a way should I have unlimited men, one would be sacrificed per week. 

He hands me an expensive looking fountain pen and asks, “Do we have a deal?”

I nod, taking the pen from him and signing my name next to where he’s already signed. 

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you,” he says and extends his hand for me to shake it. When I take it, he grabs me and pulls me into him, his other hand wrapping around the back of my head as he kisses me. 

It’s brief because of how we are situated on my couch, and he pulls me onto him so I’m straddling him as he unbuttons my top, before sucking on my breast. His tongue flicks at me while his hand gently pinches the other and I moan helplessly. 

“Is this what you wanted when you appeared in my office in that sheer blouse?” He teases, but I can’t formulate a reply. 

“Well?” He pushes again, not accepting my half moan half whimper as a response. 

“Yes but more.”

“What more? Describe it.”

It’s embarrassing to tell him everything I fantasized but I do and as I do I can feel him getting harder and harder underneath me. I can tell he loves hearing about the nights spent with nothing but myself and thoughts of him and he carries me to my bed, stripping me of my bottoms, and demands I show him what I did those nights. 

I’ve never touched myself in front of anyone before and it’s both nerve-racking and exhilarating. As I start to do it, he strips down in front of me and does the same. 

It’s the first time I’m seeing him like this, not just naked, but animalistic in the way he watches me. I can tell by the way he’s stroking himself that things are escalating for both of us. I don’t want to come because he still hasn’t really touched me, but he demands that I show him exactly what I did and I feel compelled to obey.

I cry out as a wave of pleasure rushes over me and moments later he’s kneeling between my legs on the bed, hovering over me as he finishes on my stomach.

We’re both panting as I hand him a tissue to wipe himself and I’m about to get dressed when he grabs my arm and stops me.

“We’re not done,” he says with a smile.

For a moment I’m surprised, but then excited at the thought that our first night together is only beginning.

Part 5

I hope you liked the fourth chapter of my steamy fic. As I’ve said before this is very out of my comfort zone but I tried to kick this up a notch! If you liked this, please comment, share, and like! I love seeing that :)

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[jarofstyles]

Fan Club

A/N: This story.... it’s very near and dear to our hearts. We have a total of 7 parts written, 80k words total. It is our take on the PR relationship trope, mixed with Harry gets with a fan trope. It’s full of angst, full of sweet moments and smutty moments alike. We LOVE these two, they are quite literally our children. It is a bit more personal for the reader in some aspects, we know we have all imagined what it would be like to be with Harry at some point, so this goes out to you. We made Y/N of Russian decent in this one, just to make things fun ( and because we wanted some representation for our Russian babes out there 🤧). All in all, we are extremely proud to present Fan Club to you, we hope you enjoy ✨✨ - n + d

send feedback and requests here 

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: angst, glimmers of fluff

word count: 11.2k

It was hard for Y/N to explain how she ended up in this situation. Fake Dating international popster, Harry Styles. To be honest, it was all a bit of a crazy story even for Y/N. She couldn’t believe it either. Y/N was a simple girl with simple taste. Her older sister, Katya, owned a bakery called ‘for goodness bakes’ that’s been open for about 5 years, Y/N has been working there alongside her. She spent most of her time at the bakery, having just graduated with a degree in business marketing. She liked doing things most 22 year old girls liked doing: fun makeup, nights in with wine and romcoms, and of course being a fan of Harry Styles. 

Since she was 12 years old, she had been a fan of One direction and well... Harry was always her favorite. She initially fell for his preppy appearance, but ultimately fell for his charm and quirkiness once she fell deep into the fandom. And she did fall deep. She had a stan account on every social media platform, she bought merch and multiple copies of albums, and even wrote fanfiction on wattpad. To say she was a big fan was an understatement. 

About a month ago, Harry’s team had reached out to her via the email of her bakery. They had seen the post that she made, a picture of herself with a kiwi tart with the caption, ‘it’s none of your business.... unless?’ and had asked if they could have a meeting with her at their headquarters. Obviously, Y/N agreed to this meeting, thinking that they might want her to cater an event or something. But no, they wanted her to be his ‘girlfriend’. 

They had explained to her that they had been searching for the perfect candidate who was not only a fan, but was also just a regular everyday girl. They said they liked her aesthetic and felt like she would suit Harry well. Her background in business marketing meant that she would be good at knowing what to post and her being a fan meant her love for him would be believable. The fans and media would eat this story up! It took Y/N a moment to comprehend what they were asking her to do, but they started bringing up numbers and Y/N couldn’t say no. This would get her and her sister out of debt and could pay for so much new equipment at the bakery. This sum of money could change her life. Plus, she’d get to fake date her idol? It seemed like an offer she couldn’t pass up. So she signed the contract. 

That’s what landed her here, waiting patiently at the door of Harry’s secret London home where his manager Jeff said to meet the two of them to discuss the plan from here on out. Her heart was beating extremely quickly, wanting to keep things cool. She didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, she wanted him to like her and trust her.

Harry hadn't started off jaded. Granted, most didn’t. They had the sparkle and excitement. But Harry had lost it. Years and years in the industry, from when he was a teenager to present, it had ruined it for him. That excitement he had previously had been watered down immensely. A lot, actually. But he was mostly tired of the things that came with the job— not music itself. 

Harry loved music. Making it, writing it, performing it. He loved his fans. But he hated what came with if. The people who constantly wanted things from him. Not a moment of privacy when he was out and about— though that had gotten better as his fans grew up, honestly. The media blowing up and twisting every bit of his words to fit their own wants. The fact that anyone he was seen with was a potential love interest in the eyes of the media. How they scared off and ruined good things for him because of it. He was tired of that. Every person who came to him made him wary. What was the motive? What was the reasoning behind them coming to talk to him? Fan or someone wanting a photo just for their Instagram? He wasn’t sure. 

Relationships had been hard and for now, he’d basically sworn off of them. After the bad ending with Camille, he had decided to take a long break. Until the label said he should probably have a PR move, one unlike his previous ones. One involving dating someone posing as a fan. A regular person, without his level of fame. Someone relatable to fans. Or that’s what Jeff has said to him. At this point, Harry was used to being tugged around with his dating life so he agreed. Did he want to? No. But he was under contracts and he wasn’t going to fight something so stupid. It would be a few dates, hanging out. Right? He didn’t even have to talk much to her. 

He was far too aware they probably offered her a good amount of money. Most likely why she was even there. So when he let Jeff open the door, he was annoyed with himself. 

She was pretty. Fuck off. That’s how he felt. A lackluster wave was given to her, a nod as well as she sat down across from him at his oak dining table. Cute. Pretty hair, soft cheeks. Petal pink lips. If this wasn’t a stunt he would probably think she was a lot cuter, though. 

A wave. 

Years worth of build up for this moment and all Y/N had gotten was a wave? She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Y/N offered him a smile, a shy but genuine one before looking over at Jeff. Obviously she had known who Jeff was, how could she forget the iconic ‘help me Jeffrey!’ Quote. The hundreds of photos of them together. It was surreal, but her shock surprisingly helped her stay calm. 

“Alright! Harry, Y/N. Y/N, Harry.” Jeff smiled at her, knowing Harry wasn’t happy about being here. “So have you been properly briefed about what’s required? It’s a lot more than we would usually ask of a project like this, a while longer.” He said. Harry looked at him in question. What?

“Yes, they gave me a brief outline at the meeting I went to but nothing too specific. They said you’d go over that here.” Y/N answered, pushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear. “Oh?” She asked, knowing she had signed a contract for a year. It was a long time but she assumed everyone was in it for that long. Y/N really didn’t know how PR relationships worked, she just assumed things about them through what she had seen on the internet and what all the stans were saying. She never really believed that people did things like this, but clearly, they did. 

Y/N looked over at Harry once again, taking any spare moment she could to really take him in. He was just sitting there looking so fucking perfect. An angel in the flesh. This was the man who had sparked her sexual awakening, who had taught her to be a badass bitch and to be kind to everyone she met. She knew she wasn’t his type and that this wouldn’t really end up like a fan fic, but she couldn’t wait to at least become his friend.

“Wait— how long?” His voice was deep and rather cold, but he wasn’t aware it was longer than usual. Granted— his own fault. Jeff said to look over the contract and he had just signed. It had been so many years of reading contracts he was tired of it. 

“A year. There’s a clause to extend it if need be, or shorten after 8 months.” Jeff shot him a look. “But that’s only one of the differences. I know you’re tired H, but get it together.” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Y/N here is the perfect girl next door. We found her to be perfect to do this with you. But it’ll be different because it’ll be a confirmed relationship. All other stunts, they’d been left to interpretation and never spoken about them. Blacklisted questions in interviews, etc. but we’re going with the narrative of you both being quite comfortable talking about it. Y/N won’t have to admit much considering she has her own life and job outside of this, but you’ll be talking about it in interviews. About this lovely girl who made you rethink how you went about relationships.” It was odd. A whole storyline for their relationships. 

“We know how to work this. You’ll both first be photographed together downtown. Harry holding your hand, Y/N. And then we will plant things in each of your social media posts to hint at it. Seemingly innocent but, a tattoo of his in the background. Wearing a shirt he has recently worn. His journal. All of those things.” Jeff explained the beginning of it. “From there, you’ll be more open. Post photos or do those Instagram stories your bakery is good at, Y/N. Have his voice in the background. Be photographed out and about. Simple things, grocery shopping. Y/N will come to your small gig, Harry. Hang around with your mum, and wear one of your rings on a necklace.” He would buy one and wear it for a bit before giving it to her so there was proof it was his. “When we get into it... we’re thinking cute Instagram posts from both of you. Open. Affectionate. A bit of an acting job. You’ll both be good at it though. I am confident you both can handle it.” He wasn’t sure how nonchalant Harry was seeming, though. Y/N seemed uneasy with how out of it Harry seemed to be and he didn’t blame her. 

“That’s quite a lot more than I bargained for.” Harry spoke again, sighing. “I suppose if it’s necessary for the numbers. I don’t know why I can't just do a meet and greet or something but. Okay.” He muttered.

Harry’s voice didn’t sound like the Harry Y/N knew. It was rather rough and not in the way she had grown to like it. It made her look away from him quickly, not wanting to piss him off. Maybe he was just having a bad day? She couldn’t really blame him. She was sure having all these fake relationships probably sucked. The tasks seemed fairly easy. Y/N knew that the team would be there to remind them about things and well, if she got to hang around Harry all the time, it really couldn’t be that bad. She really wanted to get to know Harry and hoped that he wanted to do the same. It would be more fun that way.

“You know why. Y/N is perfect. The fans will love her. She’s gorgeous, but has the girl next door stuff about her. Plus, she’s very nice. You’ve been lovely, Y/N.” Jeff turned to her, attempting to comfort her.

Y/N really needed to stop giving Harry the benefit of the doubt. He just kept proving her wrong. The tension between Harry and Jeff showed that Harry really wasn’t on board and it made Y/N feel strange. She thought that Harry had agreed to this and knew all the conditions, she didn’t think this was something that was sprung on him that he didn’t really get to think about. She smiled shyly again at Jeff’s compliment, looking back at Harry to try and read him. 

“I’m sure it’s weird having some stranger come around to be your girlfriend and all, but it’s just as new for me if that makes you feel better.” Y/N really wanted him to like her. Like really wanted him to like her.

Harry wasn’t sure what she was playing at. What she wanted. If it was more money or fame or whatever. He wasn’t sure exactly why she was doing this either besides for money. Whoever wanted to do this for fun would be absolutely crazy. 

“Thanks.” Harry nodded stiffly. Half of him didn’t like treating her coldly, but the bigger part was terrified of getting hurt. If she was using him for more money. Going to ask him to introduce her to someone else. No one ever liked him for him. They liked the things that came. The attention and money, luxury that was thrown at him. It was never for him or his love or jokes or interests.

Sure, people pretended to care but he knew far better than that. People didn’t care. They used him as a step stool to get what they wanted. Means to an end. Just like his last relationship that had really hurt him. 

Okay so he didn’t like her. Cool. Y/N couldn’t say it didn’t hurt because it definitely did, but she couldn’t sit here and cry about it. Y/N had come to this meeting and signed a year long contract and there was no getting out of it. So she sucked it up, looking back at Jeff who had explained what he wanted them to do. 

“So what we’ll do is have you both take photos of things today. Harry, you take a photo of your new guitar and have the flowers in the background. Y/N, you’ll take photos of the flowers and have just the bottom of the guitar on the counter.” It must be shocking for someone who wasn’t in the industry to see how this was so calculated.

“Would you want us to post them at different times then?” Y/N questioned, assuming hers would be uploaded first. If she posted it before Harry people would be more likely to connect the dots that the two of them were together. Well, that’s what Y/N would think as a fan. Being a fan and having a fan’s perspective would really help her in these situations because well, she knew what they wanted to hear and what they would think based on what she posted. Y/N felt like she could fully manipulate the fans to think whatever. It was quite simple really.

Y/N’s main account proved that she was a normal girl who also happened to be a Harry stan. She followed Harry on all the socials, but he probably would wait to follow her until they were public. That would make more sense. They needed to build up the story.

See. Harry wasn’t aware that she was a fan fan. There were plenty of people who went to his shows and shit for Instagram photos and videos. He didn’t even know her socials though so he didn’t check. It was maybe a little shitty of him to have a preconceived notion about her when she hadn’t barely talked to him, but he knew so many people who wanted to be in her position. Wanted to ‘date’ a celebrity until they found out that they have to travel with them and have to deal with fans and other people wanting your significant other. 

“I’m thinking not too far apart. Take the photos today but... hm. You post first. And then Harry will later. It’ll have people looking later on when they see the flowers. Fans are so insightful and research thoroughly.” Jeff was sure she knew that though. She’s had a fan account. “I have to go take this call— Harry, why don’t you tell Y/N about the album?” He excused himself then, going out and into the other room. 

No, no, Jeff, don’t leave. Y/N sighed to herself, nervous as all hell to be in a room with Harry alone when he had made it clear that he didn’t really want anything to do with her. But maybe they could talk about his album like Jeff suggested? Y/N loved his music, she often played it at her bakery. She was excited for the new album to drop and had genuine questions about it. 

Harry felt a bit on the spot but he just shrugged. “S’almost done. Don’t have a title yet. Choosing the singles soon I think.”

“That’s exciting.” Y/N smiled, “would you say it’s within the same vein as self titled or did you go in a different direction?” She asked not wanting to sound like an interviewer but this was a genuine question. God this was so uncomfortable for her, she wanted to run away and cry. She never thought that her idol would make her feel so uncomfortable in his presence. She was in his home and he clearly didn’t want her there, clearly didn’t want to have a fake girlfriend, and he was letting her know that pretty obviously whether he knew it or not.

The thing is, Harry knew he was making her uncomfortable but he didn’t really know how to stop it either. It wasn’t like he wanted to be fake. He didn’t want this. He wanted to be left alone with his music and his fans. Not a pretend fan posing as his girlfriend. That wasn’t ideal. No, he would much rather have real conversations with fans that weren’t paid to sit in his house and pretend to be interested in his music. He knew that Jeff wanted him to play nice though, so he answered the question vaguely. As always. 

“Different. A lot of different influences I guess. A lot of different things I wanted to make. It’s fun to do it.” God, Harry was being bland. But his fears drowned out the guilt he felt. Yeah, maybe it was harsh. He knew that. But he also knew that he would regret it if he didn’t. Who knew what this chick would spill to the press later on? What she would want from him! What else she would ask Jeff for.

“Well that’s good. I’m glad to hear it was fun.” Y/N nodded at his answer, feeling discouraged because he really didn’t seem like he was going to warm up to her no matter what she did. Y/N didn’t want to ask anything too specific in fear that he’d think she was a crappy fan, and well, she didn’t know how else to get him to warm up to her. These tricks usually worked on grumpy customers at the bakery. 

She wanted the earth to swallow her up. She was so embarrassed. She was just sat there, praying that she could leave soon so she could lock herself in her room and cry. The worst part was, no one, literally no one, could know about this relationship being fake. There could be no loose ends. 

“Again, I’m sorry about all this. Can’t imagine being in your position...” Y/N showed genuine empathy for him, attempting to get him on her good side one more time. Y/N wouldn’t give up on being kind, after all, he was the one that taught her that. It was just strange that he was acting this way towards someone he was going to be working closely with. Maybe this was just how he treated people professionally. He wasn’t mean, but he was cold. Y/N was still a fan at heart though and despite how he treated her she still would give her life for him. She loved him, cared for him, and would genuinely support him. It made her wonder if his whole nice guy persona was even real.

The hell? Why was she apologizing? Harry thought. She was the one getting paid for it. If he wasn’t in this position she wouldn’t be getting paid well. He wasn’t sure why this Y/N girl was trying to be so nice to him. No way in hell she could possibly imagine his annoyance. Perhaps she was a nice person or something, usually. But he was pretty positive she wasn’t rich and definitely did it for the money. It made him wary of being close to anyone when they were in this situation. Any time he had made friends with past stunts, they’d faked being truly wanting to hang out with him. Once it ended, they weren’t interested in hanging out when people couldn’t see them. It had hurt when he realized it was a pattern. 

Jeff came back in with a smile, but not oblivious to her sad face. Harry would get chewed out after, for sure. “Alright! I need you both to exchange numbers so you can communicate about meeting up. It’ll be pretty frequently.”

Y/N looked at Jeff with a small smile, nodding her head before pulling her phone out and handing it to Harry. She had changed her lock screens to something a bit more ordinary. After all, she didn’t want Harry thinking she was creepy or anything. Hanging out with Harry is something that she should be excited about, but suddenly the idea of it kind of scared her. Being alone and struggling to make conversation because she was just that intimidated by him. It was making her rethink all the years that she had spent fangirling over him. He didn’t know she was a fan, maybe that’s why he treated her the way he did? If he knew would he be fake and all over it? She didn’t want to know. 

“My days off from the bakery are Mondays and Wednesdays. But I know you probably have a set schedule so just let me know and I’ll work around it.” Y/N offered, genuinely wanting to show both Harry and Jeff that she was more than willing to cooperate. She wasn’t sure how she would get herself out of this one.

Harry sighed as he put his number in. God, he hoped she didn’t sell it. He didn’t want a new number. Someone had sold his number to fans before and it had sucked. As much as he adored his fans? He didn’t want them calling him every second. He was hesitant in handing her his phone. It was something he didn’t trust many people with but she tenderly took it and typed her own number in. Didn’t even try to snoop which was good— but then again, he was looking at the phone in her hand. 

Y/N was gentle with Harry’s phone in her hand, typing in all of her information into the contact so he didn’t have to ask. Something told her he would be annoyed having to asking her for her address if need be. So she just put everything in there, her birthday, her email, her phone number and the bakery number, as well as her address. 

“Monday’s and Wednesday’s work with him. He’s recording Thursday Friday and Sunday to give the voice a rest. Has some writing sessions he will take you to.” Jeff was annoyed as hell at Harry’s lack of kindness. He’d have to give him his own brand of talking to, but wasn’t sure if it would do much good. He was quite a stubborn person. An Aquarius at heart.

“That’s good. Yeah, I don’t know if you’re a morning person or if you like getting your sleep so um.. yeah just text me.” Y/N spoke kindly, still trying her hardest to be as accommodating as possible. To Y/N it wasn’t about the money, sure the money helped, but it was about giving Harry fans someone they could genuinely look up to. Y/N was a normal girl. She had normal sizes, normal tasks, normal likes as a human. She was a kind person. The fans would quickly find her information, quickly find out that she is a fan and would quickly see that Harry was finally dating someone that represented them. They had wanted someone like that for years, but too bad it was all fake.

Harry understood the context of it. He was going to date someone ‘normal’. Not in the world of the famous. Which in some cases, Harry wouldn’t mind. But there would be tons of things Y/N wouldn’t understand. What to be quiet about. Who to talk to and who not to. Privacy. Things she wouldn’t just... get. He had been in this life for 10 years now. It was his normal. And Y/N would have to learn it all and keep her mouth shut. 

“I am. I get up at 6.” He usually did. He could sleep in but he wasn’t the type of thing he did often. What she didn’t know was he had an awful time sleeping and needed to take stuff to help him. His mind never stopped, was always going. There was a lot Y/N didn’t know about him. He would do his best to make sure she didn’t find out.

It was hard for Y/N, continuing to be kind, but to keep herself from crying. She felt so out of place and so unwelcome, god she hoped that he would warm up to him. Maybe this was a terrible idea? Too bad she was in it for the long haul now. 

“Jeff, I have a question.” Y/N spoke up shyly, “obviously people don’t know anything about this yet, so there isn’t a microscope over my life just yet. I want to make sure I take all the precautions I can to keep my privacy to an extent, but also don’t violate Harry’s.” She genuinely was worried about that. She didn’t want to say too much or do the wrong things, she also didn’t want people finding out where she lived. Where she worked, sure, well... she probably would have to stop working at the bakery if things got too hectic. Y/N looked at Harry once again, a soft and gentle expression on her face. She wondered what it was about her that was making him act this way because this wasn’t the Harry she knew, not at all. All she wanted to do now is go home as quickly as possible and cry. She really wanted to take her posters down, really wanted to hide everything but frankly, everyone would question why she suddenly took things down. Y/N had to continue to keep her cool.

Jeff’s face softened. they’d lucked out with this one. Harry was an idiot when it came to things like this, put his blinders on— he knew well enough. But Y/N would help his career. Hell, maybe she could be his friend and help him come out of the funk he had been in with trusting people. 

Harry didn’t let it show on his face, but he was impressed with what she said. It didn’t change much, but he had it on the back of his mind. No one else had to think of these things before because they’d just known, but the fact that she had asked was nice. Time would only tell if it was genuine, though. 

“That’s a good question— I was actually about to ask about your social media. You’re going to need to change passwords. Verify everything twice. Take any potential tracking information away like the whole location finding on your phone so your friends can find you. Any social media accounts not reported to us originally in our first meeting would need to be shown. I suggest doing a deep clean and moving things out of it, as much as you can. Not enough to make you look like you did it on purpose. But... think of what you’d look for.” Jeff knew Y/N was a fan so she would have a similar brain.

“Okay yeah, I’ll need some help with that.” Y/N blushed, looking down at her hands. She had reported all her socials to them, yes, all of them. All her fan accounts and her main accounts. She wasn’t sure how to turn off all the tracking things or what to take down. She wasn’t problematic in any sense, so it wasn’t like she had any content she needed to delete. But it would probably be things like taking locations off of photos and turning off her location on snap map and for any of her friends that had her on there. She had actually done the latter this morning. 

“Also, I really don’t intend on telling anyone about this unless you give me the go ahead. So please, if there is anything you need me to do, let me know?” Y/N really was trying to think of everything here. She wanted to make sure this was seamless because she knew the fans would be like hawks over another fan being Harry’s girlfriend, if they found out it was PR they’d be crushed. Their whole image of Harry would be ruined. They needed to make this as real as possible. Y/N had so many suggestions, so many insights on what it was like to be a fan. She definitely wanted to speak up about anything that could potentially ruin this because well, this was Harry’s career and they couldn’t be caught doing this.

“Perfect! You’re going to do well with this, Y/N.” Jeff had been the one to find her so technically, this was his finding. He hoped that she could get Harry to realize how weird he was being. Because ultimately? He was a nice guy. He loved his fans, his friends and his family. Strangers scared him. He didn’t know who to trust and that made him act strangely. His team knew it. He was always polite to people he worked around but when it came to people invading his personal life, getting close? He said, no ma’am. “I’m happy that you’re aware of how it works a little. It makes it a bit easier. Harry here has had a few almost disasters with these types of things.” Jeff smirked at him, making Harry grumble and blush a little bit. Fuck. That wasn’t something he liked talking about too much. “Anyways... Y/N, we need you to be yourself. That’s why you were chosen, yeah? Just continue on. Be less active on that other twitter account of yours for the moment.” He had a whole plan for that. “Don’t stop completely but... I’ll send you ideas of what to tweet. Keep it vague but that you’re excited.” 

Harry didn’t know about the fan account. He would have, if he had read any paperwork, but right now he didn’t have a clue. 

They wanted her to be herself, which shouldn’t be too much of a problem. She just had to be aware that Harry was in her life now, consistently. He was her ‘boyfriend’ now. That’s something Y/N never thought she’d say. But here she was. 

“Okay, can do.” Y/N nodded, already knowing not to tweet as much on the fan account because well, she wouldn’t be doing that if she was hanging out with Harry. It would be hard for her not to tell anyone but she knew she had to do it. This was her duty as a fan to the fans, to make them feel represented and loved. “And what’s the story? Like how we met?” Y/N asked, feeling like that was important to know as well. She mostly asked for Harry’s sake because he clearly didn’t read the contract or the emails that had been sent around on the topic. This was an important first meeting, she assumed Harry wouldn’t want to hang out with her today but they probably would sometimes next week.

“Well, we wanted to leave that up to you. I had the idea of you both frequenting the same coffee shop— and before you both roll your eyes, I know it’s a fan fiction trope and I know that. But it’s believable considering Y/N doesn’t have any true connection that would be explainable to the music or entertainment industry.” Jeff explained. “If you have better ideas, Y/N, please feel free to tell me. However— we are trying to show this as you both fell for one another quite quickly. You both are very fond of one another and are around each other quite a lot.” He knew that Harry would be hard to deal with so he was definitely going to be offering Y/N some sort of bonus. “I think after the photos, we will have you both photographed leaving a dinner together next week. You’ll go with both myself and my girlfriend so it won’t be just throwing you two into the water.” Plus, he didn’t want her to be alone with Harry like that out in public without experiencing it first with him there. Jeff felt slightly protective of her, too. Like a little sister. “Also, I know you already said he’s but being clear— you’re okay with hand holding and physical touches in public with him, yeah? And for photos?”

Y/N laughed at the idea, “I mean that does work.” She said shrugging to herself. “But do we have anything to back that up? Have we ever been to the same coffee shop at the same time where someone who works there can confirm?” Y/N was really thinking about every detail here. “Jeff you’ve been to my bakery before haven’t you? Could just run with the fact that we became acquainted and you introduced us?” She felt like that was far more believable and paps wouldn’t have gotten photos of Jeff anyway so the story was contained between Harry’s team and her bakery. Her coworkers wouldn’t know who Jeff is, it was really fool proof. Also, did he say dinner next week? Wow, that was fast but she would be ready. “Where is dinner going to be? Just want to think about what I should wear.” Y/N blushed, wanting to make sure she looked nice for their first encounter together. Something very her but very consistent with something Harry would like on a girl. Y/N had been following Harry for ages, she knew what kind of outfit to wear based on what kind of restaurant it was. A casual dinner outfit for Harry was quite dressed up, so she’d probably end up doing a bold trouser, heeled boot, and plain blouse combo.

“Actually— that’s a good idea. I didn’t think about the staff thing. This was definitely done at the last minute so I’m not on my A game right this moment. Wonderful— lets do that.” 

Harry didn’t know anything about her, he realized. She worked in a bakery? He did when he was younger. He wasn’t sure if she knew that or not but it did make him a tiny bit more interested in her. Why would she do this? There had to be a real reason. He was positive. 

“Actually— Harry, go in there a few times this week. Make it somewhere people know you go. It’ll be believable that you found a new place and love it. And some of her coworkers will catch on, so on and so forth. I can call a tip, perhaps tomorrow? I know it’s starting early but we are on a schedule.” Jeff noted.

Harry was going to go to write tomorrow, but that obviously wasn’t about to happen. “I guess so. I can make time.” He had a pretty free day otherwise but it still annoyed him. However he was hoping there were good treats. Harry was a good actor when it came down to it. He hoped she could tell— didn’t want to thrust her about with his actions. In public was acting. All of it.

“And yes, about the touches and stuff. As long as it’s something Harry would actually do in public, yeah.” Y/N explained, knowing Harry was relatively private when he was in relationships. He didn’t do much PDA and she’d be okay with anything he was okay with. “Just um, let me know what’s okay.” It was a bit nerve—wracking, having to do all of this and make sure everything was sorted. Y/N knew a lot about Harry so she was positive that it wouldn’t be a problem, she’d only learn more. It was Harry that had to do a bit of learning about her. He would find out most things about her fairly quickly, she was an open book. 

“What type of baked good do you like?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious. “I’ll have some for you come around, pack you a little box.” She blushed, expressing something to him that she had always wanted to do. She knew he was a baker back in the day, maybe they’d bond over it?

Her coworkers would be shocked that Harry would be there considering Y/N was a massive fan and they knew that. But that’s when Y/N would tell them about it all. “You want me to tell my staff what exactly?” She wondered, “that we are kinda sorta seeing each other? Or that we’re just seeing how things go?”

“Uh— I like lemon things. Ginger cookies. Scones.... anything really.” Harry said quietly. It wasn’t said as coldly as the last couple words had been. Maybe it was because of baked goods? Regardless.... he was hoping that said bakery was good. He was obviously going to pay for them. 

“He also loves red velvet cupcakes.” Jeff piped up. “But I think that it’s a lovely idea, being familiar with what he likes... you’ve been so smart.” She really was. It was almost scary. Jeff approves immensely. Even Harry had to admit it was surprising to see her full of good ideas. “I think you should say you’ve been seeing one another. Not sure about where it will go but you really like him. Trust me— Harry here will be able to make them believe he’s very into you. His ability has made it so we’ve never been caught doing this thing. Not like that Camila and Shawn couple. They’re having leaks all over.” He winced. Their poor PR.

Y/N smiled and nodded at him, already having in mind what she would have ready for him when he came. She had an incredible lemon bar recipe and some other bits. Of course red velvet cupcakes. “Red Velvet are my favorite too. And carrot cake.” She commented, blushing once again. It’s true, Harry had been very good at all the PR relationships. She’d soon find out which ones were and which weren’t. She was determined to be the most coveted of them all though, the one that stuck out and actually stuck around hopefully. But she was positive that she’d fall for Harry’s act, hell, she’d fallen for him a long long time ago. “My staff is really tight knit, my sister runs most things actually. I trust they’ll keep things on the down low if I ask them to.” Y/N nodded, knowing that nothing would slip past her team unless instructed. She had a good feeling about all of this, they seemed to have most things under control. Y/N would help tie up loose ends that fans might think of and as long as they followed her lead, it would work.

“If you feel as though your sister can truly hold a secret, you can tell her. It wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t have someone to lean on.” Jeff said. He trusted her enough. Harry looked at him suspiciously. 

“Wait— hold on. What about an NDA?” Harry asked hurriedly. “We can't have any bit of this shit going out.” He was scared. So scared of someone finding out and thinking he was some damn fraud. 

“Harry— it’s fine. I’m sure she had enough sense to judge that a sister would tell or not. It’s up to her, anyways. Just remind her of the immense legal action that could take place if someone were to talk.” Jeff shrugged, knowing that Y/N really did know. “But we’ll have a tip called in about a bakery he’s been rumored to go to— no way that they’ll know if it’s true— and they’ll probably take shots through the window. We can escalate later during the week to him picking you up from work to bring you home. Something like that before the dinner.” He thought out loud. “Thoughts? Y/N?” Harry has been quiet. He didn’t like these things so he didn’t say much. Just let them plan whatever and wing with it later on. He was kind of shut down internally.

“I’ll think about it. But I’m still apprehensive to tell anyone. I wouldn’t want this getting out regardless... I wouldn’t want fans to lose trust in Harry just because I decided I wanted to tell my sister.” Y/N explained, knowing she’d probably tell Katya if it got too intense, but for now, she wasn’t saying anything. “Seems fine. I think once a week or maybe twice a week is more than enough. Don’t want to over kill either. Essentially, if he’s in the area he can pop by.” Y/N explained, thinking that was the best way to go about it. “I know you said we are on a schedule but you don’t want it to look unnatural either.” She said and sighed as she looked over at Harry. 

He really didn’t seem to like this and she understood but she hoped that he would loosen up even a little bit. She wasn’t a terrible person, all he had to do was ask. Y/N was pretty much an open book. “Is there anything else?” Y/N asked, eager to get things done and maybe chat to Harry a bit if he was willing before going home.

“I don’t think so. We’re going to try and take it as it comes so we don’t overwhelm you.” Jeff was the main talker and Harry was kind of just sitting and watching. Trying to read her. Either she was a very good hiding person, or she was good. Either way, he didn’t trust her. Lots of people had seemed sweet and generous and fun when he had first met them only to turn out to absolutely wreck his fragile heart. He knew he was fragile that way and he had given people the benefit of the doubt one too many times. He didn’t trust his own radar anymore. The more Harry looked, the prettier Y/N got— which was infuriating. It pissed him off internally because she had the type of lips every man wanted wrapped around their cock, and beautiful legs he had seen when she walked in. He never took women for granted, would never disrespect them, but his initial reaction was arousal and that made it even worse with his trust issues. Her eyes were soft and doll like but had a sharpness to them that he was far too aware of. She was smart. Incredibly so. And she was curvier than he usually dated— or was seen with, actually, because he had a few one nighters with girls that was far bigger than Y/N and he had loved it. He liked her body. It was a perfect mix, he thought. And then got annoyed about even thinking about it. Damn it.

Y/N nodded, “Alright, thank you very much. I’ll um... I’ll take the picture of those flowers and I’ll get out of your hair.” She chuckled apologetically, sensing that Harry really just wanted this to end and she would give that to him. He made her so nervous, now more so because she was scared of making him angry with her. Harry had always been someone she didn’t want to get on the bad side of. Harry was so nice to everyone that it really made her upset that for some reason he had singled her out and not liked her. It was disappointing. But I guess people were right when they say, never meet your idols. In many ways, Harry was Y/N’s ideal man. She liked how driven he was, how multi talented he was, how charming he was, how he was unapologetically himself. Plus he was scientifically proven to be one of the most attractive men on this planet next to ryan gosling. It was a shame that a lot of the things she had thought about Harry originally would slowly crumble as she got to know him better. It hurt, but she’d keep that hurt to herself. Just because the illusion was ruined for her didn’t mean it was ruined for everyone.

Harry felt bad, because she seemed to be in a hurry to leave. It was what he was supposed to want, so why did it make him so uncomfortable? He hadn’t wanted for her to be upset. Just... to keep her distance. She had these baby eyes and soft cheeks that looked sad and he wanted to give her a reassuring smile but he was trying to remind himself that there was potential danger here. Most likely she was a wannabe actress. Testing it out on him. Made sense. 

“Okay.” He nodded, standing up. When he did so, he realized he was quite a lot taller than her. Usually, he had models who matched his height. But she was smaller. Cute. He hadn’t experienced that before. Knocking that thought out of his head, he took the photo of his new coke bottle green acoustic, letting the flowers show in the back before he rested it back up against the counter. Y/N took her turn with her picture, taking a bit more time than Harry. Probably a better result too, and he wished he had patience at the moment.

A ping of sadness spread over her, she thought maybe he’d pretend to try and get to know her a bit but nope. All hope was lost then and Y/N went to take a photo of the flowers in a way that would fit her personal Instagram aesthetic. She usually posted shit like this so it wouldn’t be too out there. Once she was happy with the photo she had slipped her phone back into her pocket, looking at Harry and Jeff with a small smile. 

“Well, um, thanks for having me.” Y/N started off, pulling on her jacket. “And I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asked Harry with a small tinge of hope. He had said he would visit her bakery but she was still worried he wouldn’t show up. She felt so small. Being who she is, she went in for a hug anyway. Both figuratively and physically, Harry had intimidated her and she was weary about every move around him at the minute. Maybe she’d get used to it. “It was nice to meet you, Harry.” Y/N gave him a genuine smile, feeling even more shy now that she was so close to him. 

This would be torture.

Harry was a bit startled, but relented and hugged back. It was a bit weak, but he gently patted her back. God damn it. Why was she acting so sweet and nice and innocent? He would almost rather her be truthful about her wants of money and fame. It would be a lot more tolerable. 

“You as well.” He pulled back, face neutral. Thank god he had gotten his hard on down a decent amount. Never would he live this down. He didn’t just get hard for no reason. That girl had bamboozled him and was trying to trick him and wouldn’t let it happen. When she left, Harry continued to stare at her back before the door shut. And then he was promptly slapped upside the head by Jeff. 

“Ow! What was that for?” He hissed, rubbing the spot he had been smacked. Jeff Gave him an incredulous look, shaking his head. 

“You idiot. You’re going to scare away someone who will ultimately help your career and relationship with your friends.” Jeff scolded. “That girl is nothing but sweet. She’s doing this for you, and you know why. She’s a kind person and you better not make her run on us early. Do you want the press to get wind of it? She could talk, if you really treat her poorly. Looked like a damn kicked puppy when you wouldn’t talk to her.” He got his dad face on, crossing his arms. 

“You’re going to have to suck it up. Regardless if you actually like her or not, you’ve got to be decent to her. She’s stuck with you for a year.” Harry was irritated with that. Stuck with him? Although... maybe he was accurate with that.

Y/N tried her best to keep her tears at bay, putting on some music that would keep her energy up until she was in the comfort of her own home. She had been as discreet as possible leaving Harry’s secret London home. To the public, he lived somewhere in Hampstead which was actually closer to where Y/N lived in Camden.

After about an hour on public transportation, Y/N had finally made it back to her cozy flat. Tears immediately began to form as she unlocked the door, sniffling as she took off her coat and threw it to the ground with an absent mind. She ran to her room, storming to the bathroom to grab a roll of toilet paper. She needed to be prepared. How could someone she looked up to so much been such a dick to her? She could understand he didn’t trust strangers, but he truly made her feel like she wasn’t even worth basic human respect. Y/N was trying to be as kind as possible to him despite him being such an asshole to her and even still, he gave her a weak hug and response. As if she was a chore. It made her feel sick to her stomach. So she cried for a while, showered, got cozy in bed and went to sleep. She had early mornings at the bakery seeing as everything was freshly baked. So she was up at 3:30 every morning to make sure she was ready for their opening at 7.

----

‘Hello. I am coming in at 9:30. H.’

Harry looked it over. It wasn’t too friendly but wasn’t too rude, right? He was overthinking. Y/N had made him think last night. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her too badly, because while he did see her sad eyes he thought he was making it up in his head to try and feel bad for her. Jeff has confirmed it and made that ugly feeling in his stomach crawl into his throat. He sat and thought about how to make it so they were at a distance, but she wasn’t too hurt. Every part of the scared side of him said to continue his actions, though. He wasn’t being mean. Right? ‘Wrong. You dick.’ The other side of him told him. Conflict was something he saw all too much of in his life. He knew too well about the issues at hand. But he had always taken it so he wasn’t sure how not to prepare for it. 

Pulling up to a quaint little bakery, Harry smiled to himself. It was cute. A punny name. He liked it. Somewhere he definitely could see himself going randomly if he had seen it. Parking his car across the street, he sat for a moment and gathered himself. Now to prepare for being cute to her.

Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t smile at the text. She had always imagined getting a text from Harry and here she was getting a text from Harry. It wasn’t anything special, but it was to her despite how sad he had made her yesterday. She had dressed herself in a baby blue sweater and overalls, putting her hair up into a messy yet contained bun. All that crying yesterday made her eyes fairly puffy so she made sure to do some fresh, no makeup makeup look. She wanted to look cute if he was coming. 

“What’s gotten into you this morning?” Katya asked, seeing Y/N’s giddy mood. They were currently baking everything they’d prepped yesterday, putting out all the freshly baked breads, bagels, cinnamon rolls, and donuts. 

“Dunno, just... happy I guess.” Y/N smiled, saying it in a way that would raise questions. Perfect, get her thinking. Her excitement was genuine. He was going to come and see her and be sweet to her, it was like a whole new interaction between the two. Best part was, she could just play out everything she imagined in her head. It was a perfect set up. Jeff was so smart with getting a fan to do this.

“Hm. We’ll see. That looks like a boy smile.” Her sister really had no clue. Everyone knew she was a big fan, and would be absolutely floored when he came in. 

Harry sighed against his steering wheel, he put on his big boy pants and decided to get a move on. Today, he wore a loose white button up with a few of the buttons undone, black trousers and red boots with ‘sucker’ on the back of them. He had been sent the whole collection and did quite like it. But his pea coat was unbuttoned, car keys stuffed into the coat pocket after locking the door. The little bells chimed as he walked in, and he took a look around. It was very cute. Instagram worthy, some would say. It smelled really good too, which was a plus.

The earlier morning rush had passed, kids now at school and parents now at work. The rest of the day really consisted of prepping more goods and serving whoever came in. Y/N really liked working at the bakery, it was her safe space to be creative and feel good. She liked to spread the message of kindness she had learned from Harry into her store everyday. 

There were a few people in the bakery when he came in, sitting drinking coffee and doing work. They hadn’t really noticed who it was, and even if they knew they didn’t seem to care too much. Y/N popped her head from out the back and smiled widely when she saw him, walking over to the register so she was closer to him. 

“Good Morning, how can I help you?” She asked in a teasing tone, that giddy grin still on her face. Y/N was going to let him take the lead, letting him choose how this interaction would go but of course Y/N was going to turn up the flirt factor so that anyone surrounding them could tell there was something going on between the two of them. “You look nice.” She hummed.

“Hello, love.” Harry felt a weird gushy feeling in his stomach when she had smiled so widely at him. Fuck. Y/N looked so pretty. Hair perfectly messy, lashes long and eyes wide and glittering. Her lips had a bit of gloss or something along those lines and he wondered if it was flavored for a moment. “You do as well. Like the color.” He did, and that wasn’t even a lie. He loved the color and how it complimented her skin and hair. Made her eyes pop out. “I would really love a cup of coffee... and a hug.” 

Though she was surprised, the look didn’t stay long on her face. Instead, he was met with a gushy smile and a crinkle of her nose, “can do, yeah.” Y/N hummed as she rounded the corner to come give him a proper hug. Closing her eyes as she snuggled into his chest for that brief moment.

God. Harry was fucking himself over with this, and he didn’t even know why he suggested that but his heart twinged when she looked surprised for a moment, but beamed like a ray of sun before rounding the corner. Her apron was taken off and he decided to take the initiative and hug her. It was a friendly hug, held for a bit too long. Her body was warm, warming him from the cold he had felt outside. Her cheek pressed against his chest which had been bare since he had forgone a few buttons, and his mouth felt dry. He hadn’t had a decent hug in months by anyone but his mother. Pulling back, he brushed a tendril of hair away that had escaped. 

“I came to see if you’d be so kind and give me some pastries.” Harry spoke quietly, making the moment look private— even though he had heard the choked gasp and the whispering going on behind them— her coworkers. It was sweet really, the two of them clearly excited to see each other, but also not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that they were like that. It was perfect acting. 

Well, she wasn’t acting. Y/N looked up at him with enamored eyes, the smile never leaving her face as he even spoke quietly to her. 

“Of course, how many are you thinking?” She asked just as quietly, biting her lip a little as she hesitated to move back behind the counter to get his coffee going. “Black coffee yeah? For here or to go?” Y/N confirmed, knowing that he didn’t take cream or sugar in his coffee from being a fan. She’d just say Jeff told her. 

Her coworkers were bewildered, Katya’s eyes nearly popping out of her socket as she watched the interaction unfold. Y/N giggled at them, shaking her head as she went to get a box for Harry’s goods. 

“What would you like? Anything you’d like, on the house.” Y/N told him, standing behind the massive glass cases full of baked goods. “Lemon bars, red velvet cupcakes, and anything else?”

“Absolutely not on the house, I’ll be paying. Nice try though, pet.” Pet was a good nickname for her. She was a responsibility— but a cute one. Even if it burned his ass to think about her like that. But right now? Y/N was plenty cute— and she acted very, very well. Harry almost believed this true excitement. Thankfully, he found that he fed off of that energy from her acting. “You already know? Impressive.” Harry looked at her with a gentle smile. “Yeah, the coffee black. Lemon bars, the cupcakes. Hm. Throw a few random cookies in there too. I’ll be going to write for a little while.” That was good to do, right! Throw in a daily activity. He felt his mind was off when he was around her. It went a little crooked, was the best way to say it. He got distracted and honestly? It was kind of infuriating. He supposed it wasn’t her fault, unless she was secretly a siren and singing a silent song. Or had a spell attracting him to her, even though he was fighting it hardcore.

“Hey.” Y/N pouted when he refused her offer, “let me do something for you.” She said firmly because she meant it. A few baked goods and some coffee cost her nothing in the long run, but she wanted to do something nice for Harry because all the fancy dinners and experiences about to come were something she’d never be able to repay him for. Y/N packed everything up in the box, even adding a cute little note that said ‘tell me which was your favourite — Y/N ❤️ xx’. She put it into a paper bag and set it on the counter next to the cup of coffee. She was actually quite excited for him to try them, she wanted his opinion and frankly she knew they were damn good. 

“Long day ahead of you then?” Y/N asked, referencing him writing. She was genuinely asking because she cared, wishing that he was comfortable enough with her that she could come and give him a cuddle when he got home. What was she thinking? This isn’t real, he’s acting. And she’s meant to be acting as well.

It did strike him off that she didn’t take the money. Or the offer of paying. Usually people say that when they want it anyways and just expect you to insist, but she really didn’t seem to care about it. Which... was suspicious. While the bakery was very cute, it definitely wasn’t high end. He could tell they needed some new chairs and definitely some updated paint but he thought it added to the charm. Maybe they truly couldn’t afford it? He was curious as to what the hell she spent the money she was going to get on. 

It was true that the bakery was a little bit worn, but with the money she’d be getting from this contract halfway through? They’d be able to afford closing for however long they needed to renovate. Y/N has even wanted to buy the space upstairs as well and host small acoustic gigs for local musicians. 

“Uh.. I mean, a little bit. I’ll be writing a bit and then going to a very boring meeting.” It was the truth. God, how was he going to be able to focus? Harry was fighting a battle internally with how it was with her, trying to read things and find warning signs but it was hard. She was scary. Not in an outright way— but the way that. If this was real! If he had just walked in and met her at the coffee shop and didn’t think this was acting? He’d give her his number. She had an amazing charm around her that he was positive she had to know about— though acted as though she didn’t. “I hate to cut it short, pet. But I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?” He took hold of her smaller hand and squeezed it, before stuffing a hundred pounds into the tip jar. He turned around before she could protest, only turning when he got to the door to shoot her a wink. And as soon as he was out the door, he heaved a heavy breath. Christ. Why?

“Aw well, text me if you get too bored.” Y/N gave him a cheeky smile, leaning on the counter a little bit so she was closer to him. “Have a good day, pet.” She teased right back, smirking as he started to walk off. He really didn’t have to put a hundred pound note in there, that was flexing a bit, but it was very nice. It would go straight towards the bakery as it normally did.

3..2..1…

“What the actual fuck was that?” Her sister came storming over with wide eyes. “Y/N— that was... he's all over your walls. He has been on them for years and now he’s callin’ you pet?” She was shrieking but for good reason. Harry bloody Styles came in and hugged and flirted with her sister, they seemed to know each other well enough. It was incredibly shocking and Y/N hadn’t said a damn word to anyone. She used to stay up to watch his tv show appearances— hell, Katya was 99% sure she still did. But now? “You guys have each other’s numbers.... Y/N, you can't be for real.” Her eyes were wide as she looked at her blushing sister. Anyone would be just as freaked out. Harry was not only a celebrity, but she had seen the times she spent hundreds on tickets and had photos of him as her lock screen— which had mysteriously disappeared.

“Yeah, yeah he is.” Y/N giggled, blushing deeply as her sister looked at her in awe. Her sister knew first hand how much Y/N loved Harry. She had watched how Harry single handedly saved her from the darkest of times, how genuinely happy he made her. Hell, she even went to a show with her once just to see what all the fuss was about. Y/N wrapped her arms around her sister in a hug, squeezing her tightly because she really appreciated how excited she was. Her poor sister was convinced it was real and Y/N couldn’t break it to her. Couldn’t tell her Harry was actually really cold to her and not anything like that. 

Truth is, Y/N had a really shitty love life. All her ‘boyfriends’ weren’t really boyfriends and Harry was sort of the one thing that kept her going. She just dreamed about what she wanted, dreamed about how Harry would treat her better in hope that one day maybe, she’d meet someone like him. 

“His manager, Jeff. He comes here a lot you know... and he um, he introduced the two of us.” Y/N explained, being her shy and coy self. It was 100% believable.

----

Harry went to the writing session and found himself writing about her eyes. Bright eyes and lush thighs and every bit of silky hair he wanted to wrap around his hand. He had very dirty thoughts about this girl and it translated in to paper. 

Harry had to go home and jerk off. And it was embarrassingly quick. He thought about how her sweater had dipped down and he’d seen the swell of her breasts, imagining taking her back behind that counter and fucking her sweet cherry mouth and watching his cum drip from her lips down to her tits. Knowing that in his fantasy world, she’d be walking around with his cum on her— and that was quickly done. 

The guilt he felt after though? It was annoying. He was so cold to her but wanted to fuck her raw. So in that guilt, he went up to the kitchen and tasted a lemon square— nearly fucking moaned. It was so good. He knew it was part of the whole thing to go there, but he wouldn’t be complaining because if he got those every time? He would be set. 

‘Lemon square is good. Thanks. H.’ 

It was dry but also a compliment, so he didn’t feel so bad for using her face in his dirty mind.

Y/N was about half way done with her day when she got that text from Harry, smiling a bit because he actually decided to text her. Sure she left a note, but he didn’t have to text. That was a private thing that they did after all. 

‘glad you liked them 🍋’ 

She wondered why on earth she felt so fucking happy. He had just popped in for a brief interaction but it made her whole day fly by. Before she knew it she was closing down the store, locking up to head home. “You going to see your man tonight?” Katya asked curiously and Y/N blushed. 

“No, unfortunately. But we’re going for dinner next week with his manager and his wife.” Y/N told her, knowing stuff like that she could tell her. “Might hang out tomorrow though cause it’s my day off, but he’s a busy man so I’m not sure yet.” Even hearing herself speak about Harry like this was so strange, but she’d get used to it for sure.

--------------------------------------------

[part 2]

A/N: Harry :( why he have to be like that?? better hold on tight for this one - n+d

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