MAKE YOUR OWN ERAS TOUR: A SWIFTIE EVENT
hi!! i decided to do a cool event this week to get us hype for the eras tour coming back again this weekend :)
this is an event where you make your own powerpoint/presentation showing your DREAM setlist for the eras tour, showing a list of all the songs you would add, maybe why you would add them, and even interludes and intros!
rules:
you must use all 45 slots of the setlist
you must include at least 2 songs from each era, and 6 songs max
you can have up to 4 mashups in your setlist (was going to say 2 but y’all are probably gonna put the two in the surprise songs). each mashup counts as one song (ex. wildest dreams/enchanted would count as one song, not two)
special guests are allowed, but only ones that she’s brought out before (gracie abrams, sabrina carpenter, phoebe bridgers, haim, ice spice, etc). you may use up to 2 special guests
the event starts at 5 PM EST, saturday, may 11th. be sure to use the tag #swiftiesetlist with your posts. dm me or send me an ask if you have any questions! + reblog so people see this! :)
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leave the door open...
The dishwasher makes a weird noise as Harry presses the button, and she lets out a sigh, wiping her hands on her joggers much to Harry's dismay. There's a few seconds where they just stare at each other, and he lets out a chuckle, turning behind so he can put the kettle on.
It'd only been six months.
Two months during him on tour that they'd been in a relationship, and four months post tour–and four weeks of living together in his London flat–. She knew him for a few years, having met in New York through mutual friends, including her short-term-girlfriend at the time, so living with him, or being with him hasn't been too different.
She loved it.
They both did, especially now that he was off tour.
They argued over silly things, like who would cook that night, or the temperature of the room, or how she forgets to unload the dishwasher– 'the light tells you when it's done, babe', 'well I don't come in the kitchen and look at the bloody dishwasher so excuse me for forgetting a couple of times, Harry'.
They've never been one of those couples who felt very shy around each other. Perhaps it's to do with the fact that they're both confident in their relationship, and the fact that they're very laid back.
After a night out with her girlfriends couple of weeks ago, she presents a new 'conflict' in their relationship: Farting.
She'd found him sitting in bed after coming in, glasses on as he typed away on his laptop. After a few kisses, cuddles, and a few more kisses, she looks up at him with determination in her eyes.
"What?"
"Why do you never fart around me?"
"What?" Harry had laughed. In fact, she had to wait for him to calm down for more than ten minutes.
Harry had continued, face confused but still chuckling. "Where is this coming from?"
"Michael farted after the third-month mark. So did Nick. And Jen."
"Baby, are you upset that I... don't fart?"
"I'm sure you do!" She'd waved her arms around. "But never around me, Harry. Are you embarassed? Are you not comfortable with me? What is it?"
"You're– baby," he'd held her hands to his chest. "I love you. I guess I just... don't really fart?"
"What?"
"I mean, I might've done it couple of times when we're asleep or rather... when you're asleep. I didn't– why have you never farted around me then, hm?"
And that was it.
They'd laugh about it, and it was over.
It was silly.
Now, though, Harry really enjoyed being 'nasty' around her.
He's such a boy when he farts in bed, under the covers, and threatens to lift up the covers since 'you wanted me to fart so bad'.
Another thing he's been doing lately is, leaving the door ajar when he's in the toilet.
Now, she wouldn't mind if he was just weeing.
Or doing something else– anything else other than... number two.
It's not that she minds it, it's... she's rather confused.
So, with the kettle on, she gets their favourite mugs out, and Harry excuses himself to go to the toilet.
She knows why, because she'd figured his toilet habits out by now.
Every night around this time, he would be in the toilet for about ten minutes.
He goes, not without kissing her on the lips, and she can't help but laugh when she doesn't hear the door shut properly.
Five minutes pass, and she looks at their empty mugs, wanting to pour the water when he's back.
She's about to call for him when he beats her to it.
"Baby?"
"Yeah?" She looks in the direction of the downstairs toilet, as if she would see him.
"I need toilet paper."
"Fuck sake, Harry–" she puts her phone down on the counter, and walks upstairs, and grabs a few before making her way downstairs.
She stops in front of the door.
"Helloooooo," Harry drawls. "I need to wipe my ass."
"Why do you leave the door open like that?" She thinks out loud.
Harry lets out a groan. "Baby give me the toilet paper."
"Ahh, bet it stinks in there, H."
"Come on."
She goes inside, and hands him one.
Can't help but laugh at the sight of him just sitting there, hair messy and forehead extra-shiny.
"Okay," she pauses.
"Okay... I'll wipe my ass now if you just... y'know?" Harry looks up at her.
She realises how vulnerable he is at the moment.
"I could easily punch your dick right now," she murmurs, leaning against the door, and it closes shut with a click.
"You're so– why would you even say that– baby I fucking need to wipe my ass, just leave."
"No, I think this," she lets out a laugh when she notices him opening the toilet paper. "This is a level up in our relationship! I've never been inside the toilet while you poo."
"Farting and now pooing, you're so fucking weird. Okay, I'll–"
They just stare at each other for a moment before Harry lets out a sigh.
"I don't know how to do– please don't look."
"You've never wiped your ass?"
"Babe, what the fuck, of course I have," Harry says, through gritted teeth. "Just never in front of an audience!"
"Why do you leave the door ajar, then, you twat!"
"It makes me feel less lonely when I can properly hear you do things around the flat, for fuck's sake, just–" he moves his hand. "Just don't look."
She laughs, feeling a bit sorry for him. "Okay, I'm sorry, wait– I'll leave. I'm really sorry, I now realise this is... weird," she laughs, and turns around, hand on the door handle.
"No– don't leave."
"What?"
"Ah, fuck, we're so disgusting as a couple," he laughs.
She leans against the door, but her eyes are focused on the tiles.
She waits until she hears the flush.
"I can't believe you wanted to watch me wipe my ass," Harry finds her gaze in the mirror.
"It's not– wow, that sounds so creepy, please don't ever say that. I didn't want to watch you–" she shudders visibly. "Please don't say that, wow."
"Creepy?" He laughs, wiping his hands before he turns to her, and grabs her cheeks, smushing them. "Disgusting more like."
"Okay, please don't kiss me– you just done a huge poo and it's very stuffy in here–"
"Oh, fuck off, get out!"
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