He was a tattoo artist by day, a painter by night. He possessed what is commonly known as an addictive personality. Perhaps inherited. He had always been like that. He liked to ink his body. He liked to coat his lungs in smoke. He craved adrenalin rushes. He certainly enjoyed hot cups of coffee. Oh, and his paintings. No one would ever understand how much he loved to paint. And then, one night, a new sort of addiction walked into his life. One that would be more detrimental than any before, and yet none had seemed quite so captivating. highest ranking- #82 in fanfiction trailer by @sweetophelias all rights reserved to @derailedthoughts

Violet falls infatuated with a man by the stage name of Styles. He wears black jeans and battered boots always, rotating between t-shirts and frilly shirts. He has the unsteadiest of hands, for he puts everything he has into hitting the high notes and less into breathing. He is the embodiment of everything a singer should be; beautiful, captivating. Within the walls of his home, away from Club 102, Harry struggles to get by. He is broken, all shaky hands and fingertips stained blue from too many nights spent in the shower, clutching at soaked denim. He is but the shadow of a man that used to be, and never would be again. Violet falls in love with a man by the name of Harry Styles. It is undeniable; he loves her. But it isn't enough. Cover by: @milkystyles

Harry doesn't believe in coincidences. Neither should she.

she whines and he sells wine. maybe he can help her out.

It was the summer of 1989 in Paris, France when Bellerose and Harry first met. In which a girl who works at a strawberry field in the summer and a library in the off seasons, and a boy who writes songs, poems, short stories and paints all year round, meet unexpectedly on one hot summer afternoon in a strawberry field. All Rights Reserved to harryartwork, 2017 ©