#I feel like everybody on tumblr is on the same page on this but I’ve been wrong before.

[sam-moss]

Just saw a mutual on Twitter selling what looks like their entire SKZ photocard collection. So many complete sets. One might think “We evolve and change, it happens” but I feel like I watched the joy they found in SKZ be ripped from them in real time, so seeing this final chapter was absolutely heartbreaking.

(warning: long half-vent half-story)

It has been WAR over there for Stayville. There was a single released that was produced by zionists (with a debatable amount of SKZ creative involvement) which caused a movement of Stays boycotting the song. This decision tore the fandom in HALF. You’d think that everyone would be on the same page, right? It’s not like this is the first time we’ve boycotted a song with zionist ties! But later it was realized that this was different for too many reasons to list here. Basically some people thought that if you promoted boycotting the song you were calling all of the members of SKZ zionists, you were virtue-signaling for attention, and you were never a fan, you’ve hated SKZ the whole time and you’ve just been waiting for the chance to jump on them and ruin their reputation. And this is all in the heat of the college campus protests were happening.

And then things got PERSONAL. An account said that boycotters should black ocean if SKZ ever performs the song (I’ll shorten to LMB). Another account saw that and said “I’m going to knock out anyone who doesn’t have their lightstick up during LMB” and a big account replied in support. Boycotters said to block and report the accounts. That big (antiboycott) account did NOT like that and said that boycotters were worse. Started getting REAL personal about those account. Flooded a ton of boycotter accounts, big and small, with hate. Every day it was getting worse, accusations and threads thrown everywhere.

One account of the accounts affected was my mutual. Their account was pretty big, big enough for me to be surprised and excited when they followed me back. But they would like my posts, and we DM’d sometimes but not enough to get really close.

This fanwar affected for her mental health in such an extreme way that it affected their real life. They were in such a low place. Then I found out they deactivated. That was devastating, but you hope it’s for the better. Then I found out that another account (much closer to them than me) received a text from a stranger that they were in the hospital.

After a few days that account said wouldn’t update further on the other’s condition.

Yesterday, my mutual reactivated their account and came back with words of hope. So many people showed love and support while they were gone and the same outpouring occurred at their return. It feels like it’s been forever since this all started but it might’ve been a just a month or two that this whole situation has gone down.

Today they posted what looks like their entire SKZ photocard collection up for sale.

The heartbreak hidden the context absolutely knocked me down. I can feel it thru the screen. I hope this decision is what is best for them. I can’t imagine what they’ve been thru since they’ve been gone, but I hope they’re able to move forward.

It’s so ridiculous that so many are willing to be so cruel over a dumb little song produced by zionists. Moral of the story, touch grass. Evil is over-represented in online spaces. Not only that, but don’t be the evil. Be kind. Not because the other person may be going thru a lot, be kind because that’s how you’re supposed treat people.

[xhanelia]

I’ve discovered your blog and it’s single handedly feeding my current valorant obsession, I love your writing so much. With that said, could I please request a some fluffy confession scenes with Sova or possibly Chamber? Thank you so much!

I will abandon this page istg i hate tumblr but this is a request i can write in one go so here i am at 00:43. Lets see when i'll finish it. (Im done and its 03:00)

<<<The reader is another agent in the protocol in this fic. Sova part is GN and Chamber part is female reader. >>>

Hope you like it! And thank you sm!!

Confession headcannons with Sova and Chamber

He is the hollywood star of hiding emotions and pressing them in so no one can tell what he really feels or who is the person he has eyes on. Exept himself ofcourse.

He is not some kind of "i'll built up my emotions inside so i wont hurt anyone" kind of person. He knows he shouldnt hide them too long or it can cause damage. He talks about his problems to Brim like everybody does. But not love, ofcourse.

He thinks that he shouldnt feel like this to a coworker. Not that there isnt any couples in the HQ. There is Raze and KJ and he knows that Brim allows it.

He is probably scared of you rejecting him. If so, there will be a moody aura between whenever you two need to team up for a mission. He cannot allow that. That will effect both of your morals and the performance.

But every second he is not speaking about his feelings is like a torture to him. Like all of his energy is drawn out of him when he returns from a mission or just from trainings.

Spending his day at his room, not practising archery, not having conversations much often, sitting in the plane and looking out of the window while going to a mission rather than giving courage to people is not like him. Something is bothering him. Clearly.

You went to sit next to him. He immediately turned his head to you. "Did something happened?" He asked.

"I should be the one asking you that." You said. He stared at you for a good 15 seconds.

"Lets have this conversation after the mission." He suggested with the pressure of his own feelings. It was getting too much for him to handle. You did not pressed on it. The mission was a short one after all. Everyone did good and went back to the HQ with the same plane.

He immediately regret his choice of words when you stood infront of him when he tried to get out of the plane. He was planning to found an excuse but he didnt had the time to think about that.

"Umm..." he said trying to get some time to think. You lift a brow, implying that you both know why you are in his way.

"Lets talk about it when no one is around, shall we?" He said while bending over you a little.

"There is no one around, Sasha. You took unexpectedly long to leave the plane." You said. You were not letting him escape again.

He sighed. Looking around, really no one was left at the landing field. He grabbed your arm and getting you two both out of the plane. The sky was open and orange with the sunset of the beautiful winter.

He held both of your hands. You could feel the shake of them. It was ironic that the sniper of the protocol's hands was shaking that easily before you.

"You dont have to say anything, its better if we pretend that i said nothing, but..." you tilted your head and frown at the words. "I am in love with you." He says.

He is too scared to look you in the eyes or hear the words that will come out of your mouth so he continues to speak.

"I was too scared that our friendship will never be the same after my confession so i kept this feelings inside but they didnt stop growing. I felt like i was drowning and couldnt hide it anymore. I am sorry if i ruined our friendship and-"

He stopped after hearing your laugh. Did he said something stupid? Was this so childish for him to do? Why were you laughing?

"You were hiding this from me? For how long?" You said. He got confused. "Uhh... for... over 4 or 5 months?" He said, unsure about when he got this crush over you.

"You should have told me from the start silly. I like you too!" As you said, his eyes lit up with the happiness. Holding your hands tighter, he asked. "Really? Are you real? You are not saying that because you dont want me to feel bad, do you?"

With your head shake as a no, he hugs you while both of you laugh with joy. And there goes your first kiss with him. Under the orange sky with the blow of an air like a celebration of the nature for both of you.

Mhm. We all know this man aint hiding nothing. He shall show you and everyone that he has eyes on you so that nobody can steal you from him untill he officialy takes you out.

Yea i feel like he would take you out to an extra expensive restaurant to confess, even the offer itself looks like the confession already.

"Chamber, you really dont have to." You say while hanging the vandal back to its place. Training was over and the french man knew your schedule from head to toe. It was impossible for him to miss any of your free times.

"Please, the randevu was made from weeks ago. Plus, if it isnt going to be you then who is it?" He says while giving you the card of the restaurant. On the card, it was written the place of the restaurant (i will die from this stuffy nose istg i cannot write) with the date and time of the randevu with his fancy handwriting.

You gave a smile to him. Not often you got this kind of... um... take outs? (I forgor the word in english) He was generous to offer you this. Altough it was clear why he did this.

You contact Brim to clear that day but he said that Chamber did it for you. Then you discover that nearly everyone knows about the "take out" that you guys will have.

"O. M. G. You know that he will confess you that night, right?" Jett said while cutting cucumbers to put on her eyes but Phoenix eats them trying not to get caught. The girls night is getting little heavy on you. (Pho is one of the girls idc.)

"Yea, yea, i know. Who doesnt." You said while rolling your eyes. Trying to not pop the conversation much.

"I mean, i didnt got a confession in a fancy restaurant." KJ said while looking at Raze. Who has no idea whats going on.

"Well, im okay if he wants to do it this way but im not sure if i'll fit in that kind of atmosphere. Everyone and everything is so expensive. You know." You said while shaking your shoulders.

"Are you kidding me? That french has his eyes on you. You think he will matter if you fit in or not?" Neon lifts the cucumbers from her eyes and looks at you from the couch. You lift your hands sideways as to tell you dont know.

"We will make you fit." Phoenix says with excitement. "What is the date?" He asks while everyone awaits the answer from you.

Eventually, the date comes. Everyone you gave the date is more excited than you. Preparing your dress, makeup and everything like its a doll dressing game.

When it comes to Chamber, he was ready more than ever. It was like classic Chamber yet so different. He had his 'special occasion suit' on him and a smug smile on his face. He offers you his arm and you take it.

(You go to the restaurant but its getting too late and i need some sleep so imma skip that part.)

"So..." he says while you both sit face to face, eating dinner. He had studied this for over how many times and yet he is still nervous. You turned your look at him and raise a brow.

"We both know why we are here, Vincent. I like you too. You dont have to give me a whole speech." You said. Drinking some of the wine to cover your face and overexcitement.

He laughs at your boldness. "Its open like a book, isnt it?" He looks straight into your eyes. You feel like they could pierce through you. "Thats my girl. Bold and smart as always" He says. "You dont need a brain to see that you have eyes on me." It was your time to laugh.

He looks at you with that stupid smirk on his face. Like he truly fell in love if you. "I love you." He says. Giving up on the talk he had prepared. He felt like it was the only thing he needed to say.

Even if that three words was the only thing he said, they made your heartbeat race up immediately. With a giggle, you hold his hand that is on the table. "I love you." You said. The only thing he said and the only thing he needed to hear from you was the same nontheless.

[confessions-official]

So in 8th grade (22-23 school year) I applied to this local private high school that was very neurodivergent-, disability- and queer-friendly. I got in and I got almost a full ride scholarship, we would have to pay a couple thousand dollars but my dad was getting a pay increase and my grandma has some money so it all worked out!

And then the school fuckin closed.

Deadass they were just like “yeah we lost an investor there’s nothing you can do we know it’s too late to apply to other private schools you’re on your own sorry.” I now attend a public high school where I hear the r slur repeated regularly and only once have I heard someone push back against its use (shoutout to my algebra teacher).

I go to the wikipedia page for my county, city and neighborhood somewhat often. I ended up going to the “education in [city]” part of the city’s page. And it still listed the school as a private high school, right next to other active private high schools.

I had a totally normal response to this, and like a non-spiteful, non-hating bitch created a wholeass wikipedia account to add a comment regarding the school’s closure to the talk about the page. I had never done this before and it took some work but by god I fucking did it.

I’m still really pissed about the school shutting down and I’m probably always going to be pissed about it. Because it was this place that said “we’ll accept you, we want you to succeed” and meant it genuinely, and you could fucking SEE it in the school environment because the kids there were nice. Probably because they had also been treated awfully by students at previous schools for some part of their identity and they didn’t want other people to have the same experience. And then suddenly the school was like “actually, never mind” and really didn’t help at all. Just kinda threw us to the wolves. That’s not going to be able to go on the actual wikipedia page and I know that the school shutting down wasn’t on purpose to make me feel bad about myself but I do kind of feel like that. Not because “ugh I have to go to school with the regular low born common folk” or whatever but I hear the r slur used constantly. Nobody says anything. It’s never brought up. The school will talk about being discrimination free and everybody belongs there, but you know what? I’ve heard people being incredibly racist towards Black people and nobody does shit about that either. So I guess it’s just fuck you no matter what kind of minority group you belong to.

Anyway. People irl don’t seem to understand me but I figure on Tumblr someone will. I’m just very tired.

 

[gamesception]

Let’s read utena chapter 7

Tumblr’s new post editor just ate this entire reaction post I’m so mad it’s all gone.  I’ve turned back on ‘legacy editor’, but honestly every single pop-up overlay editor has been a nightmare and I wish they would go back to having a separate page for post creation, it’s the only way this site has ever been stable.

I’m soooo maddddd

anyway, last time we left off in the middle of the first Sionji duel.  I said something here, but it’s gone now so whatever, not much change from the anime so far anyway.

Except Touga’s physically here for some reason, and looks surprised, like he doesn’t know what’s going on, instead of watching smugly from afar larping like he’s in any amount of control here.

So anyway, the duel ends more or less like in the anime, only instead of the magic sword disappearing there’s this ridiculous sequence where it’s knocked flies out of Sionji’s hand and...

And into utena’s hand and visibly fills her with the power of Dios and everybody including Anthy is completely shocked so this is not normally what happens when a challenger wins a duel so... ok?

It’s still happening.  Like, I’m sorry to just be reposting full pages with minimal commentary, but what even?

Like, why even bother with the rest of the duels?  I get that Utena needs to build a relationship with Anthy and overcome challenges to that relationship in order for her to break the whole dueling ritual and save Anthy at the end, but like, from Akio’s perspective he’s just trying to find a duelist who can channel Dios’s power, and, uh, feels kind of like job done on this one, like he could skip to the end at this point without bothering with the rest of this year’s duelist crop?

It’s still happening, by the way.  Highlander victories were more subdued than this.

I’m with Sionji here.  What was that?

Since the sword doesn’t just disappear, we do get this cute moment of Utena sheepishly giving it back to Anthy, so that’s nice.

We also get this introduction between Utena and Touga where he comes off as... maybe not sincere exactly, but more playful & charming and less condescending & manipulative than in the show.

In the anime, we don’t see Utena leave the arena, but the episode closes on Anthy meeting up with Utena that same night.

In the manga, though, Utena, confused, embarrassed, or maybe just weirded out, kind of rushes out of the arena without anthy, conveyed by a neat handful of panels of the path to the arena in reverse:

One past the gate, Utena does pause just a moment to think about Anthy -

But unlike in the anime, Anthy doesn’t catch up to her that night.

So I guess we’re proceeding into episode 2, but where anime Utena was back to her normal unflappable self by the next day, manga Utena is still visibly shaken up.

As in episode 2, Anthy shows up in class like nothing happened, but we don’t get the cute scene of Utena going out of her way to show concern for Wakaba & trying to cheer her up, or of Wakaba and her book.  The Revolutionary Girl Utena anime already needed just way more Wakaba, if the manga keeps cutting her moments I’ll be sad about it.

Manga Wakaba does show up.  She’s somehow heard about Utena’s dorm change before Utena has, and is much more broken up about it in the manga than in the anime.  Honestly, I liked their conversation in the anime while walking over to the new dorm way better.  Wakaba was sad Utena was moving, but not wailing over it like this since it’s really not that big a deal, Wakaba hangs on her arm, they hold hands and swing their arms, Wakaba talks about how it’s supposedly been closed for ten years and teases Utena about having to clean up a derilict building, Utena gives her a piggy back ride, all in all it’s a very cute scene that also gets the necessary exposition in, and the whole time Wakaba comes across as a fun and funny, perpetually cheerful friend, before leaving Utena on the way because, well, she does live in a different dorm, and needs to get back to her own room.

Where as manga Wakaba...

Does not come off as well at all.  Chijo Saito is really dropping the ball here.

But again, I have to remind myself, she didn’t have the full anime to adapt, it’s not her fault.

As in the anime, Utena worries about the room being a mess, only to find it spotless thanks to Anthy’s cleaning, though...

That cleaning is a bit more strenuous in the manga.

And the chapter closes on Anthy introducing herself as the Rose Bride.

We’re still more or less on track with the anime plot, apart from some weird digressions at the end of the first duel.  I expect the manga to jump the rails sooner rather than later, but I’m not sure when or how.

[bobbyinthegarden]

February Reading Wrap-Up

Doing my own little review of all of my February reads in the style of one of @isfjmel-phleg‘s posts (in no particular order)

Alec by William di Canzio 

I did a whole review for this one, so I don’t feel the need to add much in terms of commentary. 

The Gilda Stories by Jewelle Gomez

I’ve actually got a whole review in-coming for this one, which I’m in the process of writing, as I read this book as part of my 2023 Reading Challenge for the Vampires category. I gravitated towards this book because I am a big fan of genre bending, and this has that in spades: it’s historical fiction, it’s queer romance, it’s eco-feminist fiction, it’s sci-fi, it’s everything. No regrets, I had fun, more thoughts in-coming.

The Tombs of Atuan by Ursula K. LeGuin  

This is the second book in the Earthsea series. I absolutely adored A Wizard of Earthsea when I read it in January, and bought the second book immediately after finishing the first and it didn’t disappoint. I’m not going to write a whole review for this book, so I’ll just lay my thoughts down here. I love Tenar so much, she’s such a great character to spend 250 pages with, the story is mature and timeless, the world building is great and the prose is beautiful, plus it was great to see Ged again, and see what’s he’s up to. No notes, highly recommend to everybody. I’ve still got four other books in the series to read and I can’t wait.

Return to the Secret Garden by Holly Webb

I understand that I’m not the target audience for this book (the audience in question being like 7-13 year old girls), but man, this book was a slog to get through. I mentioned above when I was talking about The Tombs of Atuan that Tenar is such a great character to spend 250 pages with, and I cannot say the same about Emmie (the protagonist of this story). I have a whole review in the works for this one, but the long and short of it is that this book is basically just less interesting rehash of the original book, and I did not enjoy it.

All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot

The whiplash of reading Return to the Secret Garden and then immediately following it up with All Creatures Great and Small was quite astounding, in the best way possible. James Herriot (the pename of Alf Wright) is an incredibly compelling writer and relays his experiences of veterinary practice in Yorkshire in the 1930s with wit and charm. I feel like I learnt a lot from this book, as he is able to balance storytelling with technical language about complex medical procedures very well, but the book is also really funny at times, I was genuinely laughing out loud at the parts with Ticki Woo. I’ll probably read the other books in the series too, once I can get around to them.

Ghost World by Daniel Clowes

This isn’t a book as such, but a serialised comic book which has since been released together as a graphic novel. I was very into the Terry Zwigoff film adaptation when I was a teenager, and I did read the comics before, but many years ago. They’re extremely edgy. I’m quite difficult to shock, but there was some jokes that really made my mouth drop at times. Others have drawn similarities to The Catcher in the Rye and I completely see why, teen angst and alienation are major themes in both works. It’s pretty depressing and (like I said) edgy, so definitely not for everybody, but I do think it’s good.

The Secret Garden on 81st Street by Ivy Noelle Weir and Amber Pedilla  

Got a whole review coming for this one too. I definitely liked this one more than Return to the Secret Garden. The art style isn’t really my aesthetic, but it’s cute. There are things to like here, though I have very mixed feelings about Colin’s portrayal, and the book really feels like a PSA about mental health sometimes. Like I say, I’m going to write a whole review soon, and I’ll explore my thoughts in more detail then.

I also bought some self-published comic books from some other tumblr users this month, which I thoroughly enjoyed, they were:

Tender is the Night by @thequeenofbithynia

Really wonderful 1920s inspired short comic about butches in love. Was a nice palate cleanser after reading Alec (I highkey actually enjoyed it more than Alec though) with absolutely gorgeous art and illustrations, Andreas’ art style is beautiful and 100% my aesthetic. Here’s a link to where you can buy it is you’re interested.

Signals by @wuntrum

Really cool semi-relgious horror story about a girl who becomes obsessed with and begins to worship a radio tower after she becomes convinced that she can feel the word of god through electrical currents. Really cool, plus the art is also amazing. It kind of reminded me a bit of Serial Experiments Lain (which is an anime from the 90s that I really like). And here’s a link to where you can buy that one too.

[iforimaginary]

Hello there!

☆ I go by Imaginary on most social media platforms- so I guess that’s what you’re stuck calling me… ☆

↓↓↓

Basics:

• I’m something roughly dude adjacent and use he/they pronouns. I wouldn’t be too opposed to any neo-pronouns you may choose to use.

• I was born in Russia however I have a hefty mix of Russian, Ukrainian and Mongolian blood. Essentially it all boils down to me being white + asian.

• I’ve moved since and am now based in the UK. However, I do tend to travel a-lot so there is no telling where on the globe I might be at any given moment.

• I fluently speak Russian, English and French (though I am terribly out of practice and might be rusty). I know a good bit of Latin and am currently learning Japanese!

DNI:

• I’ve been active online for the better part of my tween and teenage years so I am well aware that not everyone will be everybody’s cup of tea. If the type of content I put out doesn’t particularly resonate with you, please be reasonable and simply scroll by :)

• I am part of the LGBTQ+ community and it goes without saying that anyone residing with homophobic or transphobic views will not be tolerated on this blog.

• The same sentiment is also applied to any kind of anti-asian or anti-black dispositions.

Content:

• I like to keep myself busy so I engage in everything from writing fan-fiction to drawing fan-art and even cosplaying!

• As far as writing goes; I will mainly post drabbles and short one-shots on this blog. Any of my longer works that may be advertised here will be posted on my Ao3 profile (can be found in ‘Links’).

• As far as art goes; Anything from rough sketches to fully rendered pieces will be posted on this blog. Feel free to repost or repurpose my art but please be sure to give credit to this specific blog regardless of the social media you choose to repost or repurpose it on!

• As far as cosplay goes; I will not be posting any of my cosplays on here as Tumblr tends to associate cosplaying with NSFW content and SW (which there is absolutely nothing wrong with, I simply don’t engage with producing such content). However, if you wish to see my work it’s predominantly posted on my TikTok page (can be found in ‘Links’).

Fandoms:

• Getting some self promotion out of the way: If you’re feeling so inclined, consider joining a new fandom… check out my concept for a WIP Will Wood Jukebox Musical titled Welcome To Suburbia

• Where do I even start… I’ve been a massive part of fandom culture since I was in my early tweens and there is absolutely no way of encompassing every single fandom I have ever been in, but I can surely try:

Film & TV:

Sherlock BBC; Hannibal NBC; The Umbrella Academy; IT; Marvel; DC; Harry Potter; Fight Club; Back To The Future; American Horror Story; Dr Who; Good Omens; The Sandman.

Anime & Animation:

Gravity Falls; Inside Job; South Park; TAWoG; Adventure Time; MLP; Sailor Moon; WINX Club; Monster High; Kakegurui; Moriarty The Patriot; Neon-Genesis Evangelion; Black Butler.

Games:

FNaF; Cup Head; Cult Of The Lamb; Sally Face; DDLC; Animal Crossing; Splatoon; Legend Of Zelda; Mario Brothers; Project Sekai (Colourful Stage); The Last Of Us; Detroit Become Human.

Books & Literature:

Frankenstein; Jekyll & Hyde; Dracula; Steven King’s Collection; Neil Gaiman’s Collection; Лето В Пионерском Галстуке (Summer In A Scout’s Tie).

Links:

• Role Play Blog

• Ao3

• Pinterest

• Spotify

• TikTok

• Instagram

Afterword…

Any and all engagement with this blog is appreciated. I love receiving comments and questions- anything that let’s me meaningfully interact with other users is always welcome.

☆ Stay safe and have a great day!! ☆

[nerdanel01]

writing process!

I received a VERY kind ask from Anon back in late September asking about what my writing process was/how I outline etc. Well, I drafted a response to that ask this morning and saved it to go back and grab some references from google docs, and instead of saving the draft Tumblr ate both the draft and the ask. :) classic. Anyway, sorry Anon and I hope you see this.

___

hello anon! I am sorry it too me so long to reply to this, but when I recieved it I was wrestling with writers block and trying and failing to finish Live is a Stranger before Veilguard game out—I didn’t feel much like I should be giving writing advice to anyone. Feeling a little more prepared to answers this now that I’m hitting a groove with for love is strong as death. :) Under cut due to absurd length.

Firstly, IMO, no writing advice is going to work for everybody. Everyone is going to have a different set of methods and routines when it comes to writing. For example, one of my favorite authors, Philip Pullman, is apparently also a madman, and says this about his writing: 

“Every sentence I write I intend to stay writ. In other words, I never write with the thought that I can change it later, it's only provisional, even when I immediately do that very thing. Remember: structure is superficial. Tone is fundamental."

I don’t disagree about time, but ‘every sentence I write I intend to stay writ’ sounds like the seventh circle of hell to me. Works for him though I guess!

On the other hand, though I have never watched the Simpsons, this is another approach to writing offered by one of its writers (John Swartzwelder) that I happen to agree with very much: 

"Since writing is very hard and rewriting is comparatively easy and rather fun, I always write my scripts all the way through as fast as I can, the first day, if possible, putting in crap jokes and pattern dialogue—“Homer, I don’t want you to do that.” “Then I won’t do it.” Then the next day, when I get up, the script’s been written. It’s lousy, but it’s a script. The hard part is done. It’s like a crappy little elf has snuck into my office and badly done all my work for me, and then left with a tip of his crappy hat. All I have to do from that point on is fix it. So I’ve taken a very hard job, writing, and turned it into an easy one, rewriting, overnight. I advise all writers to do their scripts and other writing this way."

I used to try to make everything perfect the first time I wrote it. That patently does not work for me. To borrow a metaphor from visual arts, writing to me feels very sculptural—the blank page full of possibilities feels solid—and writing is chipping away at it, bringing it closer to the shape of what I had imagined in my head, getting a little more detailed and refined with each editing pass. 

For most fics (long fics or one shots) I do have an outline. This helps me to 1) start a piece or chapter knowing where I want it to end, which helps with pacing and 2) stay organized in general since I often skip around a lot as I write. For love is strong as death actually has two outlines in the same doc: one that outlines the chapters of the fic, and one that lays out the chronological sequence of events that make up the fic, since there will be a lot of flashbacks and it helped to have it organized both ways. 

The relevant outlines then get pasted into a fresh doc, where I write literally into the outline and build up the draft pass by pass until it’s ready for a final edit. If there’s a part I’m struggling with, I give myself permission to skip it or write placeholder language. (The final description of Baron Van Markham’s grisly transformation in the latest update I published did not get written fully until the last editing pass on the chapter.)

I went back into the versions of my latest update to grab the very earliest version of the scene with Varric at the end of Chp. 3 of for love is strong as death. Riddled with typos, inexplicable French punctuation from typing on mobile, just dialog beats:

« Bellara fixed the eluvian. Neve wants to use it to take us to Antiva. To meet the Crows. » « To Treviso? » asked Varric, knowingly.  « Yes. » Glowing look in his eye. « Well how about that. All that time you spent in that shitty Antivsn bar and you finally get to go for real. Listen, Rook-«  « Inknow, Varric. I won’t allow myself to get distracted. » « I was going to say, Enjoy yourself. » « Enjoy myself? When there’s gods on the loose? » « You push yourself too hard, you’ll burn out. So… go meet the Crows. But stop and sample a cup of coffee by the canals while you’re there. Maybe even get one of the Crows to take yu to that opera house so you can hear for real what thehveee all wailing in tbr bar. »

Which got drafted to into this exchange:

But it felt strange, to be in the Lighthouse infirmary, sitting beside his bed. Somehow—despite the fact that she had told Varric it was no use trying to talk to Solas at the point he had already begun his ritual—Agnes couldn’t help but somewhat responsible that he had gotten hurt. The fact that Varric was always so supportive during these visits made that guilt no less difficult to bear.

Agnes picked at a seam in her trousers, not quite able to look Varric in the eyes, flashing him only occasional glances as she told him, “Bellara—the Veil Jumper that we picked up in Arlathan Forest—says she has fixed Solas’ eluvian.” After a pregnant pause she added, “Neve wants to use it to take us to Antiva. To meet the Crows.”

Agnes could not look at Varric, but she did not need to be to know that his eyes were set on her, pinning her with a knowing look. Maker, she could hear the grin in his voice when he asked, “To Treviso?”

“Yes.”

“Well, how about that.”

More details, proper punctuation, etc. A lot more attention paid to the "connecting" pieces between the lines and the scenes themselves.

As for the yearning, I think a lot of my writing has always just really been inspired by music—opera keeps creeping into my Emmrook works, but I listened to a lot of Warped Tour style pop punk alt rock etc. during my formative teen years and was really invested in lyrics, so I think that’s where a lot of that comes from. Inside sometimes I’m still fourteen, wearing bad pharmacy eyeliner, singing along to My Chemical Romance in front of my bedroom mirror. ;)

Random other advice:

-I really recommend reading your final edit aloud to yourself if you can. I tend to catch a lot of mistakes this way that would otherwise escape my notice. 

-READ. Especially when you have writers block, read. Read widely, and read things twice. There are some books (Deathless, Gods of Jade and Shadow, The Secret History; lately Gideon the Ninth) that I’ve easily read over three or four times. Rereading old favorites let’s you notice new things about them—how events are foreshadowed, how plots are paced, how characters are built. 

-I will also sometimes play a sort of game with myself when I’m reading, where I’ll keep a running list of intriguing words with the right "vibes" for inspo on my latest wip. I was reading some Poe stories in between editing passes in the latest War of the Banners updates, so my list looked something like "perfidy, admonish, monotony, sepulcher, phantasmagoric, encrimsoned" etc. Some of these words did work themselves handily into the wip. 

-If you’re stuck in a wip, for me, “the problem is usually further back.” (I don’t know where this quote is from but maybe Jane the Virgin lol?) If I can’t figure out a line of response dialog, it’s sometimes because of the way that line was set up, or even the premise of the whole scene. 

-If there’s a scene you really don’t want to write because the idea of it bores you to tears, don’t. If it’s painful for you to write, it won’t be enjoyable to read. Give yourself freedom to tell your stories in a non linear way, and don’t feel the need to explain everything. So many times in my Solavellan long fic I toiled over scenes I felt I “had" to include, and was able to cut them with narration. 

-As important and sacred as the outline is, know when to abandon it. The two War of the Banners chapters in my latest wip were originally supposed to be one. That would have been miserable for me and everyone who read it.  

-I think it also helps to know when is the best time for you personally to write. For me, my brain is most productive and creative with language between like, 6-10a, so that’s when I try to do most of my writing if I can. I know that sounds like insanity to some people, that’s fine. But if I tried to write new drafts after work, or really anytime past 4pm, I know myself well enough to know it would be extremely unproductive. 

That’s all I’ve got for now! Apologies again for the late reply but feel free to drop me another ask if there’s anything specific you’d like to ask about. 

[thebestorworstofit]

hiiiii 

so since someone is already doin the whole not minding their own business thing, just thought I’d play too, bc why not?? :)))

Soooo, I would like to know how him setting up boundaries with the people that he chooses to interact and be creative with is unreasonable in any form. Never once did he say do not write their replies, never once did he say that he’s going on a thread dropping spree, never once did he tell anybody not to post them and along with the queue future, but he mentioned — writing out a reply when you’re feeling it has absolutely not a single freaking thing with posting it, at all. He literally did nothing more than let himself be open and vulnerable with his situation, the same way anybody else would when saying “oh sorry, I’ve been slow lately bc etc etc” He just worded it differently.. how dare anybody anonymously or not try to belittle anyone else’s vulnerability; no matter how it is expressed. He is incredibly clear from the very jump about how he prefers to handle replies coming in. He’s very honest about his thread count and schedule so anybody that chooses to write with him is making that choice WITH THIS KNOWLEDGE. he has it in posts he has in his rules and I know for a fact that he is respectful enough to have that conversation with somebody if it gets to be that serious. If somebody comes in to write with him knowing how he sets his boundaries to comfortably handle the volume that he has  and makes the choice to disrespect that then fuck them, and quite frankly, fuck you for thinking that your opinion on how he does things means anything past the five minutes or whatever of his life that he spent responding to it.  everybody here has a set of rules. Everybody here has a set of boundaries. Because that is what humans need to set to feel fucking comfortable in any and every situation whether they’re fully aware of it or not. That’s what our rules pages are - they’re boundaries we set to be our best selves. The same way people will say you can’t write with my boys unless you write with my girls.  or how they will only write on discord, or only write on Tumblr. their boundaries people set to make this work for them, and I hate to be the one to tell you, but it’s all the same shit no matter how you spin it. just because his are different, it literally does not make them any less fucking valid. So with the upmost disrespect, fuck off with your bullshit that you can’t even freaking login to say. and on top of all of that, this fucker pumps out more replies to this crap quicker than most people could even believe. that’s why he asks for the grace period, because he genuinely wants to be a good writing partner to the people he collaborates with. how many people here can say that their rules are put in place to make them the best version of their self for the people that they’re writing with vs because it’s just what they want?? and how many people can say that they have over 150 threads and have WELLLLLLL over half of them done and in their queue at any given time??  because I would bet good money there are far more people with dozens of drafts that haven’t been touched because they get so fucking overwhelmed with how many replies they have. He’s figured out a system that works for him, that he is 1000% upfront about- which is nothing but respectable. So to your same logic, if you don’t fucking like how he does it... get the hell out of here. 🫡🖕

asking other people to limit their replies to you is unreasonable. if you are struggling with the amount of replies you get, maybe write with less people? when someone decides to write their replies should be up to when they have time, it's not like they're saying 'REPLY TO ME RIGHT NOW'.

Thank you for this rather unprovoked, anon critique…

Unsurprisingly, I don’t agree with you. My rules are there to ensure I can write with as many people as possible but in a way that is sustainable for me, the writer. If this is about my recent post, I think you can probably agree that 70-80 replies in a week is a lot, and yet even then I haven’t asked people to stop replying to me. I’ve simply and politely asked if people could bear this in mind at the current time when I’ve had such a high volume. 

I never like to turn people down for plotting and writing, nor do I like limiting myself to a smaller number of threads. I love variety and I love the mass expanse that RP can give. Equally, to do so, I don’t think its unreasonable to have a rule which asks people to spread their replies out for me so they’re not bunched up and coming too much at once for me. 

I’m unsure if you’re aware of Tumblr’s delightful new tool called ‘Queue’ which means people can write replies whenever they like, and then pop them into the queue for later release and a convenient time for both muns. If not, please check the Queue tool out :)

Ty xx

[lil-tachyon]

Who are some of your biggest influences in your art?

I’ve answered this question or something like it a couple times (1 2 3 4 + archive of interviews I’ve done with people)  so I’ll hit the main points and then talk about some different stuff I’ve been into recently. 

Favorite artists who have influenced me the most in no particular order:

Wayne Barlowe

Moebius

Mark Schultz

Simon Roy

Cosimo Galluzi

CM Kosemen

John Howe

James Gurney

Katsuya Terada

Hayao Miyazaki

I could name more, but those are the main people that I come back to, year after year.

Picture above by John Howe

General art movements/styles that have influenced me

19th century academic art, especially Orientalist painters (to be clear, I don’t endorse any of the harmful racial attitudes behind many of them, it’s just stuff that I saw as a kid that I thought looked cool and different and mysterious)

Ukiyo-e, Shin Hanga, Japanese woodcuts generally

Late 80s to 90s anime

Most comic art

Online spec bio art communities

Video game character/creature designs: Sonic, Pokemon, Legend of Zelda, Shining Force, etc

Art Nouveau

Fuck it, basically all Gilded Age, Fin de siècle, Belle Époque, late 19th/early 20th century European art movements that were more or less representational or illustrative

Picture above by Ludwig Deutsch. I had a bookmark of this painting for many years and I would often get distracted while reading and just stare at it.

I think I’ve talked about all that stuff before but if you want more details or specifics just ask!

For the last couple years, my really big influences have all been other artists I’ve met online. I mean I made a whole book with @ordheist and @bagb0ss. There’s a sort of loose cloud of (mostly) SFF artists that I’ve been really lucky to work and speak with and we all kinda know or know of each other or end up in the same Discord servers, or working on the same RPGs, etc. I’m not gonna link everybody but if you go through the interviews I’ve conducted for my newsletter or check out my side blog you’ll start to figure out who I mean (seriously a lot of these people are coming to tumblr now from twitter and I’ve been reblogging the hell out of them.) Seeing all the stuff my peers are putting out and talking with them is the source of like 90% of the ideas for my personal illustrations these days. It’s cool to be part of a community. I wish there were more opportunities to meet in person, but it’s still cool.

The other stuff that’s really been in my head lately is art that’s less illustrative, more abstract and graphical. Not pure abstraction mind you, but I’ve really been digging stuff that’s more about communicating a concept, feeling, piece of information, or idea than a narrative. More about design and composition than rendering. I recently read Philip Meggs’ History of Graphic Design and that’s turned me on to so new many artists and styles. In particular I’ve fallen in love with all the Vienna Secession guys, the Glasgow Style artists, and all the graphic and bookmaking ideas that came out of the Arts and Crafts movement. I don’t know how I want to work these ideas into my drawings yet and I haven’t had a lot of time to experiment lately but they're definitely bouncing around in my head.

Above from top to bottom: two pieces by Koloman Moser, two posters by Frances Macdonald, and two pages from The Glittering Plain, written and designed by William Morris.

There’s a whole lot of art that I really love but it rarely gets reflected in my drawings- American Regionalist paintings, gig posters, childrens’ storybooks, Eastern European Mosaics, Native American art, outsider art, colonial Americana …. One day I’ll find a way to synthesize it all.

Anyway, hope this is interesting/fun/informative and if you have any follow up questions don’t hesitate to ask!

-Logan

[euronymous-files]

F.A.Q.

Last update: July 24th  2024

I guess this page needs a F.A.Q. to make things easier for everybody. So here we go...

- I don't have any kind of link to Øystein’s family, friends or acquaintances. I’m just a regular fan. - I'm not on Instagram. I chose Tumblr because it doesn't censor users as much as IG does. At the beginning I debated whether I should make a back up of this blog on IG, but in the end I decided against it. I can’t stand the thought of policing language and asterisking the shit out of everything. Also, IG encourages people to comment a lot, which increases the chances of drama and I don’t have time to moderate that shit either.  - No, I don’t accept anonymous messages, both because people ask stupid questions or just act like asses when they can do it without an identity, and because this is an archive and I won’t dilute its content by adding messages that don’t bring more useful info. Just send me a message and I will reply to you privately. - Sure, you can copy my posts on other platforms. But if you have an info page, a link to this archive would be appreciated, especially if it’s one of those posts where I had to put more work than just search, copy and paste. Not that I’m holding my breath... I’ve seen some people ctrlC&Ving stuff that took me quite a while to put in here, with zero shame and zero credit. Incidentally, they’re the same people who like to pretend this archive doesn’t exist when being asked about other info pages. But I digress... just be decent. - No, I will not give space to "the other party", and I won't feel dishonest about it. The jolly crew of his detractors, that we know all too well by name, have taken all the space and attention they could grab, for years. I won't help them spread any more bullshit. Same goes for the psychobitches who spread baseless claims surrounding Pelle's death or Øystein’s “old friends” who have only recently come out of the woodwork looking for their pathetic 15 minutes of fame and trying to cash in while at it. If you know, you know. - I won't post Øystein’s letters, that's not the goal of this blog.  - If I don't post quotes by specific people, even in those rare occasions where they have something vaguely positive to say about Øystein, it’s because these people are not reliable sources and they are known to twist the truth at their own convenience. So if you know someone who has talked about him a lot and you can't find anything here, that's why.  - No, I don't think that everybody featured on this blog has only positive things to say about Øystein; some of them might very well have ambivalent feelings but I do believe that their words were sincere and devoid of any hidden agenda. - The reason I don't call the spoiled brat from Bergen by name has nothing to do with censorship. On Tumblr you can write his name, no problem... I just don't like typing his stupid name and I avoid doing so unless it’s a direct quote. - No, sorry, I don't post regularly and never will. I published most of the content in 2021, when I opened this archive, and have added and will add more when I find something new. So yes, this archive is technically still active. - I'll keep personal info to a minimum: I'm a woman, European, and I've been into black metal since the late 90's. - No, I’ve never been to “the basement” and never will, even if I had the opportunity. I hate that people are allowed in, like it’s a tourist attraction, and I greatly dislike the fact that another record store is milking money out of idiots just for being in the same spot. As a matter of fact, I’m disgusted with the whole “black metal sightseeing tourbus” to begin with and have zero respect for anyone organizing it or taking part in it. - if you find yourself unable to like, reblog and reply to my posts it’s because I’ve blocked you. Either because you annoyed me at some point in the past or because, during my depressing scrolling of the “euronymous” tag, I was gratuitously subjected to some unbearable fangirl cringe coming from your blog and I don’t want you here stinking up the place.

[beautifulletdownfics]

The Nearness of You - A Harry Styles One Shot

A friends to lovers one shot feat. birthdays, pining and stolen purses.

Hello, please enjoy this fever dream fic that came to me a week ago and is now somehow 13.5k and gracing your eyeballs. I’ve never written a one-shot of this nature before and it was quite a refreshing distraction from my usual, long-form fics. Thank you to Anne @oh-honey-styles​ for the encouragement (bullying) and for posting the pic that inspired it all. To everyone else, read on x katey *Because this is quite lengthy, I’d recommend opening in a browser because the Tumblr app can be glitchy*

My masterlist Chat to me here

“When you're in my arms And I feel you so close to me All my wildest dreams came true” The Nearness of You, Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong

++

You love the cold.

London in February isn't everybody's cup of tea, but you feel positively giddy walking down the icy Soho street in your new & Other Stories snow boots. The hard, black leather is already making your toes ache, and they're rubbing against the heel of your left foot, but they'll stretch to size, and you can tell these are going to be Your Signature Boots. The wind whips against your cheeks, red flushing them as you cross the laneway and push open the door to the chic little restaurant you've followed on Instagram for years but never had an excuse to try. Figures Harry chose it for tonight. Sometimes you wondered if the coincidences were a little too … Coincidental.

"Hi," you smile brightly to the maître d', "I'm uh … I'm here for the birthday? For Harry?"

Do I need to say his surname? You think to yourself.

"Can I have your name, please?" The suited man pulls a piece of paper out of the reservations book and waits for you to identify yourself. Your chest is rattling from the cold and the flurry of nerves you're all too familiar with ignoring.

"Y/N," you say your full name, taking in the dark floor of the restaurant, the flickering candles on the tables and lining the bar that takes up the entire left side of the room. The whole place is beautiful, just like you've double-tapped online; all deep reds and burgundies, vintage posters, and mismatched, dark wooden furniture. A jazz record plays just loudly enough to fuse the conversations at all the tables into one comfortable sound. It would make for a sexy place for a date, you decide, stolen touches under the table would feel thrilling and seductive.

The maître d' nods, you're on the list, "Back in the private dining room," he says, "Follow me this way."

You push your evening bag further up your shoulder and walk half the length of the bar, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. You catch the bartender watching you as you go, he's cute, and you give him an awkward little wave before calling out ahead of you.

"Sorry, excuse me," you get the attention of the man leading you through, "Can you point me to where I need to go? I'm going to get a drink to take in first if that's okay?"

"Just there," he points to the doorway at the back, next to the kitchen pass, "The curtain on the right."

Thanking him, you watch as he walks back to his station by the front door. You turn to the bar and rest your hands on the cool wood. They've stuck the pages together of old Little Golden Books for the drink menus, but you'll be ordering what you always get on birthdays, so don't take in the beverage options as you flip through The Tawny Scrawny Lion. You remember it from when you were a kid.

The bartender moves to stand in front of you, a gleam in his eyes and flirtatious smirk on his face, "Pretty good read, that one. You have to order a drink though, this isn't a library."

You laugh, he's laying it on a bit thick but probably just after the tip, "I was more a The Poky Little Puppy sort of girl."

He gives you a grin of approval, flipping a napkin up onto the bar in front of you, "What can I make for you?"

"I'll have two Old Fashioneds, please," you lean forward onto your elbows to give your feet a rest as he pulls up a second napkin and then two crystal, lowball glasses. "They're pretty," you comment without thinking.

"It's all about the glass," he confirms quickly, dropping brown sugar cubes into each one and then shaking bitters on top. Your eyes focus on the way the squares dissolve and fall in on themselves as he speaks again, "I'm Jack."

"Y/N," you give your name for the second time, throwing a brief smile his way, "I've never actually watched someone make these before."

Jack pauses and gives you a teasing look, "Do you want me to stop so you can get something to write this all down?"

You laugh and roll your eyes at him as he goes back to making the drinks. You're stalling. You know when you go through the curtain in the back there'll be a dozen people who're all dressed nicer than you, with more impressive jobs than you, who have funnier, more outrageous stories about the birthday boy than you. You'll need to stand awkwardly in the doorway for a few moments too long before Harry notices you, and then your greeting will be watched by all his cool, London friends.

You know better than to let any of that dull your shine—you really do—but you've had a rough few months, and if you're honest, you'd like your first time seeing Harry since the summer to be a little more low-key than this. So that's why you're wearing the new boots that hurt and might not suit the dress code because they're new and you feel good wearing them with this outfit. It feels a little special to be out celebrating Harry's (belated) birthday in a semi-new ensemble. You managed to fluke getting your hair and makeup just right, and yes, your legs do look pretty fantastic in these tights with the short, roll neck, knit dress, thank you very much.

"Here you go," Jack brings your attention back to him, you can smell the citrus twist in front of you, and the crystal glass deflects the light from the candles, "Can I put this on a tab for you? You're with the birthday?"

"I'll pay," you tell him, already digging for your card and holding it out to him.

"Oi!" You hear a very familiar voice call out from the far end of the bar, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you shiver, "What're you payin' for? What's she—don't take her money!"

You keep your arm out steadily to Jack and raise your eyebrows at him, "Take it," you urge him quickly, feeling him pluck it from your fingers just as you turn towards the voice you know so well.

That familiar Tom Ford cologne hits your nose just as Harry hurries up and deposits himself heavily against the bar, right up in your personal space. His broad frame blocks out the room to you, and he's lit softly in the dim light and looking radiant from within, as per usual. He's got his crazy eyes out—accusing you—and his eyebrows are pinched together slightly, but he looks good. Happy. Rested. Pleased to see you.

Harry's always pleased to see everyone, you tell yourself, Hold it together.

He pulls you into his chest for a hug. Your cheek presses just below his pecs, and you feel the way he's grown more defined since you last saw him. The material of his t-shirt is soft and smells clean. It's a tight squeeze he gives you, one that you resist reading into. Was it healthy for there to be so much comfort in a simple hug? Was your whole body allowed to tingle and fizz from the embrace of a friend? Was it pathetic to have been carrying around in your ribcage the same crush from when you were thirteen?

Affirmative. Without a doubt. Yes.

You haven't seen Harry since mid-September, the last time he was in London. Well, the last time he was in London and had time to see you. You're sure there were probably business trips, Christmas definitely. And going off Instagram, you think he might've flown into Manchester and spent a long weekend with Anne back in October, but if it was any of your business, it would've been your business. You needed to be grateful simply for what you got; intermittent texts about books he'd read or maybe a happy drunk voicemail if he thought of you at the right time. He sent an email at Christmas with a charitable contribution in your name instead of a gift.

"It's so good to see you," Harry says as he pulls away, all crinkled eyes and broad smiles. You don't know your grin has launched his heart into space and that despite having just gone to the bathroom, Harry feels due for a nervous wee. He thinks you look fucking gorgeous tonight. Knowing you've done your hair, and eyeliner, and picked that dress to come out and celebrate his birthday … It sends a jolt of desire straight to his groin—beauty blooms in front of his eyes in you.

Tell her, you idiot. Twenty-seven could be the year.

"Hi," you chirp at him happily and pick up one of the glasses in front of you, "I got you a drink."

Harry watches you fondly and then dramatically looks off to the side, lets out a little huff, "Typical Y/N, buying her own drink … You really think I wouldn't have one here for you?"

Nevertheless, he says a quiet thank you, takes the glass from you and deliberately sniffs it as if he's not sure what's inside or if he'll like it. You smack his arm lightly at the show and pick up your own glass, chinking it to the side of his and watching him over the rim as you both take your first sips. The familiar taste and view fill your tummy with gurgling happiness that sits high in your chest. He's dressed almost exactly how you expected him to be—smart, high-waisted dress pants and a printed t-shirt. You're glad you didn't go too formal, the restaurant is nice, but it's not Hatted or anything, not like the place he took you in LA that time, where you felt like the biggest idiot in the world for not realising beforehand, was properly fancy.

"Fuckin' delicious," he rumbles slowly, bringing you back to the cocktail, "A classic."

"Happy birthday," you tell Harry sweetly, thankful for what's likely to be your only quiet moment with him all night, "Sorry I couldn't make it to the LA party."

"Ah," Harry waves you off, "Your job's much too important here."

He means it. Harry's beyond proud of you. He's always telling people you work for the NHS, saving lives and keeping the country going. The party in LA was thrown together by some people at the last minute, and even though most of the friends he left in the backroom when he went to find the bathrooms a few moments ago were able to fly across for it, Harry's not the least bit put out by you not being able to. Would've been a big trip for you to do on your own and he knew there's no way you'd miss his London celebration. And you sent over a gift, which shouldn't have surprised him. His actual birthday was spent in LA, and that morning a parcel arrived from you—two new notebooks and a novel Harry read the back of and instantly knew he would love. It's what he read on the flight home to the UK.

Trust you to want him to have the gift on his birthday—go to all that trouble of packaging it and sending it over—when you were going to see him in London ten days later anyway. Harry could do worse than a friend like you.

"I just need a bit more notice than four da—

—Please," Harry's shaking his head at you, hating watching you apologise for something he really doesn't care about. "I'm glad you're here tonight," he tells you genuinely, fingers reaching out to brush your bangs away from your eyebrow briefly and—did the room just spin around you?—get a glimpse of the bronze sheen over your eyelids, "I haven't seen your new hair in person, looks lovely."

Lovely? he scolds himself, Lovely is a nice jam scone, lovely is a hug from mum …

"Oh," you coo, automatically sending your own fingers up to where Harry's had just been to reposition your newish bangs, "Thanks, still getting used to it, wanted to do it forever but wasn't brave enough to I guess."

"I like your natural hair colour, too," he continues slowly, eyes running over your whole head, "I mean, I loved how it used to be … But I like this a lot."

Shit, Harry's already failing to adhere to the strict series of pep talks he's given himself over the last couple of days. He's babbling, and he's probably just made you think he's not liked how you've had your hair for the previous twelve years. Is he buzzed from the cocktail or from the way your cheeks have gone a little pink since he touched you? His compliment made you squirm, and Harry wants to do it again and again until what he's feeling makes sense.

"Just, you know, feels like a throwback to the old days," he mumbles through another sip of the cocktail you both love, a glint appears in his eyes as he continues, "When you had Barbie overalls and would spend half a day plaiting your whole head in those tiny little rat tails."

Your mouth opens into a horrified O, and you let out a single laugh, "Rat tails? They were cool. And I was eleven when we met, I'd definitely already outgrown the Barbie overalls."

"Whatever you say," Harry smirks at you, signature dimples appearing on his cheeks, "I just remember those little beads from the ends of them ending up all over the bottom of the pool."

You smile at the memory. You remember duck diving with Gemma to collect all the beads so they could be put back into your hair the next day. Nearly drowning from laughing so hard at Harry and the other boys trying to stand on your backs in the water. Summers with Harry were always spent laughing. The local pool and skate park saw all your adventures. When Harry's dad moved in next door to your family after his parent's divorce, you and your brother hung off the fence, peering into the backyard to see if any toys or a trampoline might appear signally new kids next door. They didn't, and it wasn't until the summer when Harry and Gemma arrived for their holidays that you jumped the fence with ice lollies and offered yourself up as a new friend.

"Simpler times," you muse to yourself, looking up and catching the perplexed look Harry was giving you, "Spaced out a bit, sorry."

"I've missed my little weirdo," he grins at you affectionately, angling a little closer and levelling his head down to yours as he bit his lip and frowned, "Are you doing alright though?"

You let out a little sigh and avert your eyes to where Jack, the bartender, is busy making trays of drinks for different tables. Harry observes you carefully, a twinge of guilt forms for causing the sad look that's come over your face, but also for not having asked the question weeks ago. Gemma told him at Christmas, an off-handed comment about you being newly single. When he heard the evil gremlin in him was fucking relieved, just like he always was.

"I'm fine," you try a smile out and pull your lips up higher when you don't think Harry buys it, "Better. Had my crisis haircut and drank myself to tears with my work friends. Just a normal break up, really. M'getting used to them at this point."

A small, white lie.

Each breakup bruises you deeply. Talking about it afterwards fills you with a shame that makes you feel naked, like everyone else can see what's wrong with you but you. As though it's obvious why nobody's picked you yet. You don't ever want to talk about it afterwards, (especially not with Harry) don't want to draw attention to it. Prefer to let the disappointment and loneliness pool in your tummy and sit there heavily, weighing you down, waiting for the One Day someone spectacular might come along and be buoyant enough to float away with you.

You're looking for your forever. You want the cheesy romance, and the love, and marriage, and kids, and the whole stupid thing. You want to be wanted and loved and cherished. That's what you're ready for. You just can't find anyone who's ready for that with you. So, you date, have mediocre boyfriends who rarely make it to the first anniversary, then pick up the pieces and try again.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

"Well," Harry swallows, reaches out for your arm to make sure you look at him, "You look beautiful tonight. And it's his loss, he's clearly a monumental idiot."

You give Harry a noncommittal hum in response. Just as you're about to say something you shouldn't—get into details you bet Harry really isn't that interested in knowing—you catch the movement of someone appearing from the doorway behind Harry and then approaching you both.

"Harry, mate," you don't know the guy who's recognised Harry's back and is calling out for his attention now, "Thought you might've fallen in."

Harry snaps around quickly to the voice, blocking your view. You take another sip of your drink and pull in a deep breath. Not fitting into any of Harry' groups socially has its downfalls. If his sister wasn't around, you tended to have to make friends at anything Harry invites you to. You're not part of his Holmes Chapel crew or his LA friends, and you definitely don't fit into the London group. Over the years there have been faces you've come to find familiar, but you're still the singular, hanger-on friend from Harry's second childhood home.

Peering around Harry's shoulder, you catch the end of a look between the two guys you think alludes to this new friend gauging whether Harry needs rescuing from you. You briefly wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. You know that look well.

"Aiden, this is Y/N," Harry raises his arm and angles to pull you around in front of him.

You hold up your drink, awkwardly, "Hi."

Aiden gives you a hesitant smile, "Hello," then he raises his eyebrows at Harry, "Harry, you coming back in, mate?"

Harry bites his lip and chuckles, reading the look on his friend's face, "You're a prick, I don't need saving. Known Y/N since I was twelve, we were just catching up."

You feel yourself go bright red, and you're thankful for the forgiving lighting. This isn't the first time this exact scenario has happened to you. You've been on the receiving end of that uneasy look before—his friends checking if the girl who isn't there with anyone else is supposed to be there at all. Backstage at the O2, a member of Harry's security once hauled you to the tour manager's office to check your VIP credentials were legitimate. You'll take that story with you to the grave.

Aiden deflates slightly and waves a hand your way, "Shit, sorry, thought he'd been cornered by a fan again … I mean, a pretty fan to say the least but …" he coughs into his hand when Harry gives him a glare you don't see, "Great to meet you."

"No worries," you wave it off like it's nothing. The truth is your brain has short-circuited at Harry's palm resting on the small of your back, he's not moved it from when he first brought you forward. Friendly touches weren't strange between you, but this lingering, comforting hand is burning a hole in you tonight. You haven't been out and had anyone touch you since your breakup, and Harry is setting off all you nerve endings. You tilt your weight onto your other foot to pull back from him slightly, but Harry's hand travels with you. "We should go back, I might use the loo first though, is it that way?"

Harry watches you point in the direction of the bathroom, you're flustered and he really wishes he could tell Aiden to buzz off so he could just take another few minutes with you. Brief you on who was in the room you were about to go into. You wouldn't know any of them, and Harry always appreciated that you came to things on your own, particularly when you wouldn't know anyone aside from him once you got there. He should have invited his sister so you'd have a buddy. Or told you to bring a friend. Not a boyfriend, though.

He watches you take the final drag from your drink and put the glass down on top of the bar, "Thanks Jack, t' was dee-lish," you catch the attention of the bartender, throwing him a beaming grin. And Harry watches the way the guy's features light up at being called on by you. Envy rumbles in Harry's gut, he recognises the dumb smile and dopey nod of Barman Jack's head. Has felt it a hundred times himself when he's been on the receiving end of your quirky humour.

You walk away, and Harry feels Aiden watching him, "She's fit," he comments, trying to get a rise out of Harry, reading the room perfectly.

"Fuck you," Harry grunts at him.

++

Harry sits opposite you at the long table in the private dining room.

You nurse a glass of rosé and eat the food slowly, savouring it. You deliberated over the menu for a long time before settling on what to order, you've seen photos of most of the dishes online, but there were several new ones too. Harry goes off your recommendations but spends a lot of the dinner talking to the people sitting beside him. He knows if he tried talking to you right now, he'd just get lost in you, which is both rude for a birthday party and bound to be too conspicuous.

You insert yourself into a conversation with the girls sitting next to you and pretend you're good at making friends. They spend most of the meal talking about something that was on the telly the night before. You were on shift so missed it, but pretend to be interested or like you might've seen it—anything to not stick out like a sore thumb.

Harry watches you out the corner of his eye the whole time. You've shrugged off your jacket, and he recognises the gold necklace you've got around the collar of your dress, sitting over the black fabric on your chest. He's pretty sure it was a gift from Gemma a few years ago, you wear it all the time. Harry makes a note to get you something that compliments it for your birthday coming up. You're chatting to one of his mate's girlfriends and Lisa who's been on his publicity team for years. Those would've been the two he'd have introduced you to first as well. He can't stop watching the way your lips turn up every time something funny is said, or one of the girls makes eye contact with you. Watching you try with his other friends always makes Harry feel warm and giddy for some reason.

Fuck, he's missed you. And he berates himself for the fact he never seems to remember that until he sees you again. (It's strategic usually, his heart doesn't take your company well when he knows you're going home to someone else) You're so engaging and kind and unintentionally charming, and you always have time for him. Harry knows he's not an easy human to be friends with; he constantly ducks in and out and is never around for the big things, let alone being available to call on a random day to just hang out with. The friendship is always on his terms, and he knows it makes him a selfish prick. You definitely could've done with a call a couple of months back when you had your heart broken. Like always, he missed it, and by the time he was sending you a message about an episode of Midsomer Murders, he felt as though the moment to console you had passed, and Harry didn't want to draw attention to the fact he wasn't around for it.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" His head snaps back around to the person next to him, thoughts still on you across the table. He agrees with whatever was said and does his best to catch up.

Harry's got to stop thinking about how you're single at the moment. He really does.

++

A few hours later, it's the girl sitting to your left, Lisa, who first mentions the idea of kicking on.

It's after dessert—after everyone sang happy birthday to Harry over a round of espresso martinis—and you're starting to think that if you leave now, you'll be home before midnight, which means the tube won't be too deserted to feel safe. You're also at a comfortable place to wake up without a hangover in the morning. Two cocktails and a glass of wine over dinner, because any more and you're scared you could say something stupid to the wrong (right) person.

Harry's face lights up, and he looks around the room, eager at the idea of going to a bar or two for more drinks. He's not been out in London for the longest time, and he's happily buzzed enough to not be too worried about running into people. Feels like this group of friends have gelled well together. How often does he get to have a night like this in London? Hardly ever.

"Yeah, let me sort out the tab and then we're good to go," Harry says, pushing his seat back from the table and standing up, his hands hunting his pockets for his wallet and phone, "I'll be right back."

When he goes, you decide now's as good a time as any to split. You pull your coat on and say goodbye to the friends you made over the meal. Lisa gives you her business cards as if speaking to you had been part of her job, you slip it straight into your coat pocket and can already picture it at the bottom of the garbage in your kitchen. You revisit the bathrooms, and when you come back out into the main restaurant area, Harry's still leaning against the front desk, chatting to the maître d' from earlier.

He feels your small hand land on his back and jolts upright at the contact, your gentle voice calling his name softly, "Harry, I'm going to head home."

He spins around, and you catch the fall of his face, "What? No … No. You're the one I want to hang out with the most," his bottom lip juts out and his brows furrow. "Y/N."

"Thanks a fuckin' lot, mate," you hear a male voice laugh at your back, they slip behind you and out into the chilly air, and Harry flips them the bird. You were pushed closer into his chest as they jostled past and he steadied you with his arms latched onto your forearms. Still watching outside, you see a cigarette lighter flare-up on the footpath and the end of an orange butt glow spectacularly in the night. When you glance back at Harry, he's not looking happy.

"Don't pout," you tell him lightly, you reach up and press the skin taut between his eyes smooth again, "Can't wrinkle that rockstar face of yours."

His face lights up, and his skin heats where you made contact, "You can't go yet."

"Harry," your features tangle into something like a grimace, "You'll have a better time without me. Everyone seems to be pretty tight—"

—Y/N," he gives you a final, pleading look, "Please come."

You make out like you're stomping your foot in defiance, "Fine."

"Score!" Harry cheers under his breath, shrugging his jacket up over his shoulders and saying a final round of thank yous to the staff. When you're out on the street at Harry's side somebody mentions the name of the next place and points the direction of it, Harry places a hand on your shoulder as you start to walk and leans down to your ear, "I just have one condition for you coming."

You pull back and look at him, "I don't think you get conditions when you've begged me to be here."

"A birthday condition then," he edits, pressing his lips together and smiling at you with his eyes, "You have to promise to do what I say before I ask it."

You narrow your eyes at him, "I suppose you only turn twenty-seven once. You can have a single wish from me."

Harry laughs and slips his fingers under the strap of your evening bag, "Give me this."

You think briefly he means to carry it for you, which is a strange thing for Harry to request. But then he unzips it in front of you and starts rifling around inside it, slipping your phone under his arm so he can move around the lipstick and tissues and emergency Galaxy bar to eventually pull out your small purse.

"Harry! What are you—

—Ah, ah!" He holds it all away from you and reminds you of the promise. "This is mine for the night," he says, slipping your purse into his coat pocket. "Otherwise you'll end up buying too many rounds."

You try to sneak your hand into the pocket after your wallet, "Don't be stupid. It's your birthday, I'll buy every round if I need to."

"Exactly my point," he steps away from you down the street, and you skip to be back at his side. He's stolen your money and your chocolate bar.

"Harry, give it back."

"Nope," he pops the 'p' and hands you back the bag, the Galaxy bar hanging from between his teeth, still in the packet, "You promised. Now hurry up and walk, and I might give you a bite of this. 'm freezing my balls off, we are not in LA anymore."

So that's how you end up in the next bar, your handbag a little lighter, squished into Harry's side with a pleasantly sour cocktail he paid for between your fingers. The booth is so far into the back wall you're not even really sure which direction the front door is anymore. Somehow, you've managed to sit ten people around a booth probably designed for six, but nobody seems to be bothered.

Your whole right side is on fire, though.

You can feel Harry from the top of your shoulder all the way to your ankle. His hip sits neatly next to yours, Harry's left elbow rests just above your right thigh, and your knees press together every time he gets excited when he speaks and unintentionally opens his legs up. If Harry's bothered by it there's no way you'd know, he's hardly looked at you since you all sat down, much less uttered a word of discomfort about the seating arrangements. Makes no sense really, when he seemed so desperate for you to stay out with them.

(Next to you Harry's felt like he was high most of the time, he's flashing in and out of the conversations around him. Because he can smell your perfume—Stella by Stella McCartney, he'd know that fragrance anywhere, you've been wearing it since you were seventeen—and you're warm and snug beside him. He feels completely insane. But he also feels inflated with a heart-crushing joy at having you so close. He's trying his best not to draw attention to it or to you because what he's always liked most about your friendship is that you're just his. God, he needs to do better at seeing you more often, talking more, being more. Each breath as he's touching you is like a crack of electricity through his chest that aches beautifully. Nobody else feels like this. Even when he's dated, what he's felt with them can't hold a candle to his boyhood crush on you.)

You sip your drink and laugh at the embarrassing story that's being told about Harry, oblivious to his torment. Oblivious to how Harry feels your forearm brush his leg and has the overwhelming desire to deposit his palm on your thigh and keep it there, probably forever.

It strikes you that the last time you saw Harry was before the current anecdote about him in Italy happened, and at the table, it's being spoken about as though it was ancient history. You wonder what historic classification your memory of thirteen-year-old Harry would get, that time he attempted to bleach his hair with lemon juice. He ended up with second-degree burns on his forehead from the acid reacting with the sun.

Or the time Gemma stayed in Holmes Chapel for the summer because she had her first boyfriend, and so you spent six weeks learning that maybe you'd been wrong about who your favourite Styles child was. Maybe the boy who, when you were eleven, didn't impress you much, suddenly at thirteen, demanded all your attention. Made that summer become the first where you considered your outfits and whether your mum sending you next door with homemade snacks made you look lame.

"… And of course, Harry can't walk away from a dance floor when he's on the tequila …" everyone around the table laughs. Harry peeks at you to make sure you are too, but he's not very good at it because you notice, a smile flares on your lips.

You're used to long periods of not seeing each other, it's how it's always been. Harry and Gemma spent the summers with their dad and then returned to Holmes Chapel for real life. Sometimes that's what it still felt like, as though each time you saw either of them you were acutely aware there was a foreign Real Life they would go back to without you.

Harry in particular. You were used to not seeing him for months on end, usually the whole school year. Just a few messages over MySpace and birthday cards, and then, when you were out of school, invites to parties Harry couldn't come to anymore—'I'm in Australia, how insane is that? Sorry, I'll miss your 18th …' or 'I can only stay until the 8th, could you maybe graduate a week earlier? ;)'—and emails every other month with a new mobile number for you to overwrite his contact in your phone with. You're not saying you feel hard done by in your friendship, you don't. It's just always very take-what-you-can-get with Harry.

"You've got your thinky eyes on," he's pivoted his whole body towards you, hips twisted in an entirely uncomfortable looking position. Harry's got his resting elbow on the table right next to where your hand holds your drink, and he's looking down at you with careful eyes, "Where are you?"

"The pool a dozen summers ago," you answer easily, pursing your lips together and running a knuckle along your hairline, "Thinking about your ah, burn incident."

Harry's face explodes in a grin, and his eyes roll up to the ceiling and then capture yours again, "For fuck's sake, you're never going to stop bringing that up, are you?"

"You were a horrible blonde," you remark quickly, "If you ever so much as blink in the direction of a packet of bleach you have to call me, okay? I'll have no issue telling you, categorically, you should never dye your hair."

"Categorically," Harry mimics you childishly, "Alright, I get it, you went to uni. No need to use words with fifty syllables to make me feel stupid."

You bring your glass up to your lips, "Come off it, Harry, you're ten times smarter than me."

His forehead raises, "You're the cleverest person I know. Don't make me call Gem to confirm it."

"Don't bring your sister into this, Harry," you deadpan.

He goes to reply but holds back, something unnamable travelling across his eyes as he watches you lick your lips after taking another sip of your drink. Harry's leaning a little closer than he might usually, and despite the fact he's a few drinks in he still smells only of Tom Ford and clean clothes. He's just about to ask you what you're doing the next day when he gets hit in the side of the head with a coaster.

"Hey," he cries out, pulling back from you and frowning around at the group trying to figure out who the culprit is," 'M the fucking birthday boy, watch it."

Lisa is the girl directly across from Harry and yourself, and she's is the one who threw it. She's giving Harry a coy smile and holds up her empty glass to him, a not so subtle request makes the drink in your hand feel like a concrete brick. Something dirty you don't like having. She's got captivating blue eyes and straight blonde hair—exactly Harry's usual type. Your heart sinks as he slides out of the booth next to you, laughing at her flirtatious request and taking a tally of who else wants a new drink.

"Y/N?" Your name is delicate on his lips, and it makes you want to cry. Why is it so easy for you to make things feel like they mean more with him?

You direct your smile his way, "I'm good, thanks."

His head tilts to one side, "You sure?"

"Positive," you nod, feeling your cheeks burn as everyone watches the exchange.

"Okay," Harry taps the table with the corner of his phone, "I'll be right back."

After a few moments, you sneak off to the bathroom, happy to see Harry's beaten you back from the bar when you return. He's sitting in your spot, deep in conversation with the person beside him who you recognise from the radio. Tentatively, you slip in next to him, careful not to touch him this time. Harry's got his hand casually resting on the table, turning your glass forty-five degrees one way and then back the other way as he speaks. You think about reaching over and pulling it out of his hand gently (you're losing your buzz, and Little Miss Bombshell across the table has made you feel silly and juvenile) but it looks to be an almost serious conversation, so you don't. With a smile plastered on your face, you look around the table, resisting the urge to pull out your phone to check if either of your flatmates has text you to meet up with them somewhere.

It's a delicious whiff of your perfume behind him that turns Harry's head. You're back from the bathroom, although nobody was able to confirm that's where you went when he got back from the bar and asked after you. Harry pushes your drink over and gives you a smile, taking note of the fresh layer of lipstick and messy oomph to your hair that perfectly shows off the new style and bangs.

Golden, he thinks, As always,

"Your new hair really does look beautiful," Harry tells you, the bar stilling around you as his face becomes all the world is for you at that moment, "Next time, don't wait for a dickhead to break your heart before doing something to make yourself feel good."

You swallow down the thickness in your throat, "Thanks, Harry."

++

Walking to the next bar, Harry can't stop himself from asking.

"What happened?"

You kick your foot out as you wait at a set of traffic lights, half the group ran to cross, but you, Harry and a couple of others were too slow, "What happened with what?"

Harry watches his breath fan out in front of his face, "With your ex, with …"

"Tim."

"Tim, yeah," he turns to look down at you, hands tucked into his coat pockets, "What happened with Tim?"

"Nothing really," you start strong, then shrug one shoulder as you think about it. It's safe to cross so you wait until you're stepping up over the gutter and onto the opposite footpath before you continue, "Probably a lot of little things but … Always felt like he thought I was asking for a bit too much. I guess in the end he just didn't like me all that much."

The way your voice drops kills Harry, he's not detecting self-deprecation but something far worse. He's detecting acceptance or acknowledgement or like you're confessing some truth that should have been obvious.

"Y/N," he stops walking and halts you as well, lets Adrian and Lisa walk around and out in front of you, "If he didn't like you very much then he's got some kind of chemical imbalance. I mean it, this guy's not worth a second of your heartache."

It's not like Harry's a dickhead about it, not like he thinks you should date people with more money or status or who are more impressive. A person isn't their job or what car they drive, he knows that. Harry's not about judging anyone, but you really do seem to date guys not worthy of you. He hasn't met many of them, but Harry knows this to be true because if they were worthy, you simply wouldn't be single right now. If you dated someone half-decent, there wouldn't be a chance in hell they'd let you go. You're beautiful and thoughtful and intelligent and funny—so funny—which means Harry knows without a doubt that this Tim guy was an absolute fuckwit.

"It's not necessarily about the guy," you start and Harry can hear the thick emotion in your voice, "Is it? It's about the idea. The disappointment is more about not getting the fairytale, not finding my person. Not getting the whole package everyone else seems to have found. I know Tim wasn't right—truth be told I didn't end up liking him very much either—doesn't stop me from being sad that I still haven't found it."

"'It'… That's what you're looking for?" Harry asks, eyes out front where the rest of the group are all stopped waiting at another set of traffic lights.

They're laughing and chatting loudly to other people on nights out, and hanging off street poles to get funny pictures. He doesn't want to catch up to them, not when the two of you are in the middle of this conversation that's making his heart race and his hands sweat. He starts taking smaller steps.

"Yeah," you breathe out, almost sounding ashamed of yourself, "Don't seem to be looking in the right places."

Look over here, Harry thinks.

"But I mean, each breakup I end up getting something out of it," you've flicked your positivity switch, "This time I got these boots and bangs," you kick out your foot and watch Harry take note of your footwear, "Last break up I got four houseplants and a new watch … It's not all bad. What about you?" you turn it back on Harry, "Are you seeing anyone at the moment?"

It's hard to tell with Harry. You either find out from his sister or sometimes, social media. Although that's all usually trash. Generally, when Harry's seeing someone, you'll hear it confirmed from Gemma, and the next time you see Harry, it'll be something you're assumed to know. You haven't seen Gemma since Christmas time though, for your annual festive get together, and she didn't mention anything. Tim had ended things with you a few days before, so that was the main topic of conversation.

"No," Harry confirms what you'd already deduced—and hoped—in your head, "Not for a while now."

"Got your eye on anyone?" You quiz faux cheekily, your smile a little too wide.

Yes, you, he says to himself as he looks at the side of your face.

You hope he's not got some girl in LA he's into. Just like you'd hoped his answer to the previous question. But the hope was silly, something that bloomed in your chest each time you saw him and died again before you were home in your bed, alone.

"I'll let you know," he says aloud.

You think you see something else there in his expression, but you know you can't have. Your mind is swirling, and you're feeling a tingling sensation all over that you know you shouldn't. It'll only leave you disappointed when you part ways tonight and don't see him for another few months. The tiny bits of maybe mores and perhaps are dangerous to things to cling on to now, they'll all turn into Nothings very quickly.

Someone steals his attention away from you when you get to the next street corner. Most of the group are gathered there, and you're not sure whether to believe it when Lisa says they missed the green man to cross the road because they were talking. She sides up to Harry and starts waving her hands around in an animated story about something or other. Harry crosses the street with her, and you give him up for the night.

But he's acutely aware of what's happened. Harry's not stupid—he's emotionally intelligent, and spent enough time with Lisa on nights out before—and he can see that she's deliberately pulled him aside. He likes her, quite a bit, but she doesn't make his insides flip, or his toes curl. She's firmly Just A Friend. Harry hasn't spent countless hours over the years thinking about her, lying to himself about how he's completely fine when she starts dating someone new. He's never thought about an alternative life, one where he stayed at school and went to uni and got a regular job and maybe (definitely) ended up with her.

He's imagined that life with you—more than once. More than a dozen times, if he's honest. For years now, Harry's bitten his tongue and smiled through the pain of not being able to have you. And sure, most of the time it's a dull ache, deep in the recess of his mind, that needs to be called on or conjured to really be felt, but it's always been there. He's always had an (Astronomical) Soft Spot For You. Ever since that summer you broke your arm falling off the back of the ramp at the skate park, and he first saw you cry. At fifteen he didn't know what the hollow but sharp pain through his heart was as he rushed to your side, but now he knows that was the first sign he didn't see you as just a mate. Would never again see you as just a mate.

And now, hearing you use the word 'it'. You say you're out there dating idiots trying to find it and Harry's just unwaveringly sure he that could be him. He wants to be it for you.

You've pulled out your phone and fallen behind, face pulled down as you type away furiously. Harry watches you out of the corner of his eye, half just to watch you and half to make sure you don't get separated entirely from the safety of the group.

"Y/N," he calls out, unable to keep up with Lisa's story and unwilling to try to tune back into it. She stops short, and annoyance flits across her face, but Harry still turns to you, still crosses his arms over his chest and gives you his best scolding look, "It's the oldest trick in the book," he goads you. Lisa sighs behind him, and he ignores it.

Your head slowly comes up and takes in Harry (and Lisa sulking behind him), "What is?"

"Fallin' behind so you can peek at my bum."

You point at the long coat Harry's wearing that goes to his knees, "Can't see half of you under that thing."

"Ah, ha!" He calls out, his pointer finger floating in the air right in front of your face, "So you've tried."

You shove his shoulder and step around him, trying like anything to act neutrally. You're aware Lisa is still watching on, and you're not used to your friendship with Harry being quite so carefully observed. You know your face has gone red and you're really not going to involve yourself in a pissing contest with her. It's not classy and certainly not your vibe.

As you walk away, boots clip up behind you, and Harry heavily drapes his arm right across your shoulders, pulls you into his side, "Was just teasin', love."

"I know," you respond quietly, not upset, not really.

"Though I might've made you sad," Harry continues solemnly, "Know you get embarrassed in front of people."

Your face cracks into a smile, "Opposite of you, hey, you're practically an exhibitionist."

He should flirt because you've led him to a pretty easy window into a dirty joke, but something has Harry hanging onto his regret, "I mean it, shouldn't tease you …Should be old enough to use my words, tell you what I think."

You've got no idea what he's on about, "Harry, the teasing was fine. Where's this bloody bar though?"

Up ahead, everyone's standing on the footpath in a clump. Harry can feel the next words on his lips but has to hold them in when his mates turn and see he's finally caught up. They're waiting a few minutes for a table, someone explains, then they'll be able to go in. Harry thinks how little he feels like another drink at another bar. A few people walk away from the group to share cigarettes. You're standing a little bit away, under the sign for the butcher next-door and kick your foot back against the wall like the slight movement might warm you up.

As he steps up to you, Harry watches you get distracted by the group of people spilling out of the bar you're all about to go into. He doesn't want to take advantage of knowing you're newly single also doesn't want to let this opportunity pass. You're always dating someone, or he is, or there's some other reason not to. There's always a reason to hold back from you and Harry refuses to believe it's the drinks he's had nudging him into this. Neither of you is drunk, he wouldn't even say he's tipsy anymore. Just warm and contemplative and less inhibited than usual.

"C' mere," he calls softly, the tips of his boots landing right in front of yours, your bodies a hands' width apart. He wants you closer.

"Harry—

He opens up his coat to you and when you don't move—your brain is busy short-circuiting—he acts for you and winds his arm around your shoulder to encase you in the warmth, "Get in," Harry says, "You're shivering."

You're shocked by the contact, at him being so close and inviting you in and then just taking you in his jacket. He's wrapped the lapels around both your bodies and forced you against his chest. He hums against you, but you're feeling incredibly awkward with your arms hitched up against your chest and pressed rigidly into his shoulders. You've not been in a hold like this before and certainly not with Harry.

He pulls back and digs around for your wrists, "You've gotta put them around me," he stretches his arms behind his back, taking yours with them and instructing you to really settle against him. "There, that's better," he wraps the jacket back around you, and the two of you stand like that—hearts pressed together, scents converging and your whole frame shaking against his—for what seems like far too long for it mean nothing. Right? Your thoughts ricocheted around inside his jacket and go nowhere, solve nothing in your mind.

Over your shoulder, he sees the rest of the group have gone into the bar. He's not surprised none of them called out, Harry's angled you both away from the door and with his head ducked down against yours they probably (hopefully) missed you both there.

It's Harry's twenty-seventh birthday, and maybe that's made him sullen or introspective. Made him think about the passage of time and how another year has passed him by, yet here he stands in the same place as ever—wanting you. Wishing for more, or waiting for a moment that feels right, or hoping something will happen. With growing older comes a sense of regret and an acceptance that twenty-six has happened and anything he wanted to achieve by that age but didn't he never will. There's only the future. Only the things he can do. And the mix of all that with the cocktails has Harry feeling as though he has to act on this. Every birthday he thinks maybe by the next one the Somethings or the Maybes might have happened, and you won't be standing in front of him as just his friend.

"Always had a thing for you," Harry says, his chin resting against the crown of your head while his arms link around low on your back, holding you against him, "I've always liked you more than I should."

Oh god, you think, your chest freezing in place, I'm hallucinating.

"What?" Now your heart is really racing. Or maybe it's completely stopped, seized up and fallen out of your chest onto the salt-covered footpath.

His voice comes out evenly as he repeats himself, "Feels bigger than a crush, but I guess that's what it is … Since we were kids."

(Oh, how those words have been his best-kept secret for all these years but now, in less than two seconds, he's let go of them more easily than almost anything else he's ever done)

"Y/N?"

Harry thought he'd be scared. Thought this would be a moment of panic. Every time he's imagined this he's thought 'and I'd be absolutely shitting myself because what if she doesn't feel the same way?' but now that he's said it he's almost completely calm. The only reason he's worried is that he can feel how hard your heart is beating—even through the layers of clothing—and surely that quickly can't be good for your health.

You're speechless, and he leans back so he can see your face and, oh your eyes. Why on earth didn't he say it to your face, so he could be looking in your eyes? Watch his words project across your expression and settle into your mind.

You look worried, and Harry's transported back to that time he had you on FaceTime when he was somewhere on tour with One Direction. He was telling you about how management was going to let them fly friends out on tour, bring a little bit of home along and give the boys some needed space from each other. You were nodding along and so excited for him but sure Harry was talking about someone else, that this was just news and he'd called up to tell you how he was inviting the boys he went to school with in Cheshire or people he met through X-Factor. Of course I'm bringing out you and Gem, you idiot, he'd told you when you were surprised to get an invite, Who else did you think I was talking about?

He kind of loves watching the look on your face right now, the cogs turning in your head and wheels spinning, furiously trying to figure out what Harry means.

Why isn't he terrified of what you're about to say?

"Why … but you've… and I've…"

Your hands have moved to his hips so you can see him properly, and Harry's encouraged by the fact you haven't pulled away or pushed him off you. You're watching him with a puzzled look on your face and a burning heat across your cheeks.

He brings his forearms up to rest on your shoulders and smiles at you, "I wasn't brave enough to act on it … Guess I didn't want to fuck it up. Didn't want it to not work out. Couldn't stand you becoming an ex."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Right." You don't seem capable of more than one word at a time.

"You feel bad for yelling at me about the chocolate bar now, don't you?" Harry's narrowed his eyes playfully.

That does it.

Your eyes snap back up to his face from being fixated on staring at his neck, "Chocolate bar … No, what the fuck, Harry."

He laughs. A real laugh that comes from the base of his tummy and squeezes his eyes shut and crinkles his nose. His head falls back, and it's a deep, uninhibited laugh, "Don't stomp your new boots at me," he eventually says, crooking his head down to be almost pressing his forehead against yours. "You've been my favourite girl for years, I've always been a pansy idiot who didn't want to wreck the friendship."

"Oh, and now you don't mind wrecking it?" You bark back sarcastically, unsure why you're angry at him but you are.

"No," Harry says softly, moving through your emotional responses seamlessly, "I don't think it's going to wreck it, do you? Think twenty-seven has finally given me the balls to pursue it. To tell you how I feel. How I've always felt."

Your eyes instantly ball with hot tears you weren't prepared for, "You're an idiot."

"I am," he agrees readily, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

"Why have you told me this now," your voice is small, unsure.

Harry frowns, now he's starting to panic, "Do you … Do you not feel the same? Or do you not think maybe you could?"

Oh, if only he could have been in your head every time you saw him these last few years. Heard you talk yourself down and away from anything more than platonic, from any thoughts that might elevate you in his eyes. You've spent all this time trying to convince yourself to believe you were nothing more than a friend to him, and now this.

"Harry, are you sure you—

—I'm sure," he insists quickly.

"I just—

—I'm sure."

You're suddenly very embarrassed by the conversation the two of you had earlier about your ex. The conversation where you basically told Harry you're incredibly desperate to settle down and find The One. He's so achingly cool, and you feel like a little tinned tomato, thin-skinned and persistently flustered.

Tinned tomato? Really? You berate yourself, Case in bloody point.

"Y/N"

You scratch roughly at your forehead and grimace at whatever thoughts are going through your mind, "I'm just …"

Harry brings one hand up to fix your bangs, carefully sweeping the hair back across your forehead evenly, letting the pads of his fingers dust over your skin, "I think if you didn't feel the same you'd have said No by now."

His words steal the air from your lungs, "Harry, you've just always …"

"I've always?"

"I never thought …"

The smile comes up over his face gently, "It's me, Y/N, please finish a sentence. I'd really like to kiss you, but you haven't yet said anything to imply you'd be open to that …"

You pull your lips together like a reflex you can't help, you've rarely let yourself fall that deep into imaging things with Harry, but your body reacts to his words in an instant, "Promise you're not kidding …"

"I promise I'm not kidding," Harry said sincerely. "I'd never kid around about this, Y/N."

You believe him, and ten seconds of bravery comes over you, "I was thirteen."

His eyes narrow slightly, trying to figure out what you mean, "Thirteen?"

"My thing for you," you continue quietly, heart racing as adrenaline swamps your legs, "Started the summer I turned thirteen."

Harry hears the slight shaking to your voice and almost misses what you've said. Then it hits him.

"Oh yeah?" He squints at you and pulls up his nose with a smile, a secret little smile that will never belong to anyone but the two of you. The Smile that happened just before Harry leant down and kissed you for the first time, pressed his warm lips against your cold ones and really breathed you in.

He holds it like that for a moment, your lips touching but not moving. Then his hands come up to cup your face, and Harry moves his mouth to one side, just a touch. You open up to him, and he has the brief thought that this is probably the Most Important Kiss Of His Life. His insides curl in on themselves as he gets completely lost in you. Completely lost in how perfect this moment feels and how much finally kissing you feels like a relief.

You can't believe this is happening. You're still tucked into Harry's coat—warm and safe—but now you're joined at the mouth, and Harry's a really really good kisser. He's got his thumbs pressed into your cheeks and his fingers laced through the hair around your ears. When his tongue first licks your bottom lip and then goes searching for yours, you don't think you've felt yourself flicker On so quickly. A soft moan escapes your lips, and Harry's kiss somehow becomes harder, his nose bumping yours where he'd been good at keeping things smooth until then. As quickly as it intensifies, Harry takes a slight step back and drags his mouth away from yours.

"Y/N," he breaths out your name, sealing your lips with one of his thumbs as he pulls back. Harry's taking stock of your face (hopefully) getting used to being this close to you. Noting the way your eyelashes kink out at an odd angle right at the corner of your eye, and the freckle that's so close to the edge of your mouth he's never noticed it before. Harry's can feel your heart has slowed down, and the expression on your face right now is content, but curious. He's also sure he can see fear under it all.

"Well," your voice shakes, because Harry's looking at you like you've only dreamed and now that you're here you're not really sure what happens next. You kissed Harry.

He clears his throat lightly and his hands both fall to hold either side of your neck, "There's no way I'm going back to not being able to do that whenever I want."

Then, he kisses you again. You feel yourself melt against him as Harry's chest presses back against yours. You link your arms around his waist, clutching the back of his shirt between your fingers as Harry leads the kiss with a hand on your neck and the other holding your chin carefully. You've picked up right where the last one let off, hungry and exploring and a little bit desperate (perhaps a lot desperate) to have more of each other.

But then his phone rings in his trousers pocket, right against your hip, and you jump away in surprise.

"Shit," Harry mutters, pulling the stupid machine out, cursing the universe, "Sorry … It's Aiden," he tells you with an eye-roll.

And then you're back to reality. Your drinks have all worn off, your feet ache, your ears are freezing, and you've just made out with one of your oldest, best friends. Shit.

"Oh," you take a hearty step back, hands slipping out from Harry's coat and your body bracing the full brunt of the cold night, "Yeah … That's—

—Aiden," Harry barks the name of his mate down the phone while at the same time hooking his free arm around the back of your neck and pulling you close again. He's not giving up touching you that easily, and he doesn't care, quite frankly, about giving you any room to start internalising or retreating from him, "No, we've gone to get some food … I'll see you during the week sometime. Tell everyone thanks for—Yes, I'm serious … I don't care, saw all you lot last week … I'm hanging up now. Bye."

You listened in on the conversation because it was really all you could do. Aiden was obviously inside the bar, and they were all wondering where Harry got to. We've gone to get some food, Harry told him, so they'd know he was with you. (You supposed he was hardly going to say, 'oh yeah we've been out the front making out') Bits and pieces of the other end of the conversation, you were able to pick up on, but not enough to truly know what was said. By the end of the call, Harry was smiling though, you could hear it in his voice.

His nose found the shell of your ear and Harry leant into you, "Come back to mine, or we can go to yours … Watch a movie, play Scrabble, anything … Just wanna be with you."

"It's two o'clock in the morning, Harry," you murmur, your mind struggling to make sense of what's just happened. You're outside a club in Soho held against Harry's chest with lips that know what he tastes like and a body that's on fire.

"I'm not tired," he shoots back, "Are you?"

"Well, no but—

—Great," Harry turns towards the road, takes a few steps to the curb (you trot along with him under his arm), as he flags down a black cab. "Mine or yours?"

His question is simple, he prompts you to answer by calling your name as he opens the door for you and gestures for you to hurry up and get in.

"Yours," you say.

Harry doesn't speak much in the cab, you figure it's about privacy. You hope it's about privacy. The thirty-minute drive out of the city and to his place feels much longer. Halfway through he reaches over for your hand and gives you a reassuring smile across the back seat. You thought the journey might make you sleepy, the sitting down in a warm car would bring the haze over your eyes and bring the long day to a close in your mind. But you could never feel sleepy with Harry's fingers playing with yours, or when he leans over and kisses your cheek for no reason at all.

At his house, Harry tells you to make yourself at home while he turns on the kettle for a cuppa. You kick your boots off in the hallway, and your feet start throbbing in relief as you follow his retreating form. It's certainly not the lusty, hurried entry you imagined you might have. Which only plants doubts in your mind about what's actually going on between the two of you.

"I'm just going to use the bathroom," you call out ahead of you, turning back to the stairs and taking yourself up to Harry's second storey.

Upstairs you don't take long. You're looking a little worse for wear—who wouldn't at 3am—but you're not really in the mood to try to fix yourself. Even if you did Harry would notice, and that felt like something you wanted to avoid. As you walk back to the landing, you wriggle your toes in your socks and happen to look back down the upstairs hallway. You've been in this house dozens of times before but this time feels different. It feels quiet and intimate somehow. Just as you're about to go down the first step, you see Harry's bedroom door is open on the opposite side of the stairs to the bathroom, and you notice something that makes you stop.

The book you got him for Christmas is sitting on his bedside table.

You're standing over it before you realise that your legs have started moving, looking at a picture of Anne, Gemma and Harry, a bottle of water and the book. You pick it up, the cover a little bent and the spine cracked to where he's read. Harry's using the birthday card you send along with the gift as a bookmark. The top of the familiar design sticking out the top of the pages, you can't even really remember what you wrote inside. Something generic probably. Platonic.

Happy birthday, old man! Have a wonderful day, sorry I can't be there in person. Love, Y/N.

The floorboard at the top of the stairs creaks and you turn around to Harry looking surprised to see you standing over his bed. He's got two cups of tea and a family-sized Dairy Milk bar under his arm. Something churns inside you, this was Harry as you'd always known him. Except now you looked at his lips and wondered why the hell you weren't kissing him.

"Oh, yeah, I've been reading that," Harry sees the book in your hands and walks towards you, "It's excellent, unsurprisingly."

A smile starts on your face, "You doubted my selection ability?"

"Never," he returns quickly and then raises his eyebrows at you, "Looking for anything else?"

You feel your cheeks heat and you drop the book back into its place, "No, sorry, I was coming down the stairs and saw … I'm sorry."

Harry passes you a tea, "It was really kind of you to send something over. Was fun having something to unwrap on the day."

"I'm glad," you smile and take a sip of the tea. It's sweet, and you screw up your face, "This is yours."

Harry watches you with a strange expression on his face as the two of you swap mugs. He's worrying his bottom lip, obviously weighing something up in his mind. You see it when he decides what he' going to do about it.

"I've got something I want to show you," he tells you finally, tilting his head back to the door. "Wanna come see?"

"What is it?" You ask automatically, but Harry's already walking out the door, and you have to hurry to catch up.

He leads you into his study, and you hover in the doorway as Harry sets his tea and the chocolate down on the desk. He pulls Bananagrams out of the draw and places it next to the mug.

"We're actually going to play Bananagrams?" You ask.

He looks back at you, "You'd prefer actual Scrabble?"

"I didn't know what you meant by—I guess I …"

Realisation dawns on his face, and he widens his eyes, "Oh, you thought it was a euphemism."

"No!" You snap back quickly, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks (for the record, yes, you thought 'a movie or Scrabble' was a thinly veiled way of Harry suggesting … something else), "No, I just … I just don't think I'll be able to spell words right now."

"I didn't think you were still tipsy" Harry states, shit-stirring.

"I'm not!" You squawk at him. "I'm… I' m—You kissed me!"

He grins, loving the fact he's driven you a little crazy, "Yeah. Want me to do it again?"

Harry's playing with you. He's teasing. And you know it but what you don't know is how he's so confidently jumped to it. Not when you feel like you've been left on the street outside the bar trying to figure out what the hell this means, and what's going to happen tomorrow when he stops looking at you like that. You don't like to think this whole night could've been him playing with you, you don't know Harry to be that cruel. But there's a tripwire in your mind you keep getting snared on.

It's Harry.

"C' mere," he reaches his hand down across the room between you both, "C' mere and kiss me again. You don't seem to be getting it."

"Getting it?" You're cut off by Harry taking two big steps toward you and then planting his lips on yours again.

His palms find your hips, and you hold him in the same spot. It takes a moment for the two of you to find a rhythm, and even then, you're too in your head. You're struggling to remember what little Harry's said about this whole thing. You know he said he had a crush on you and you've gotten the distinct impression he wasn't too fond of your ex. But for all you know Harry's been kissing his mates like this for years but just never gotten around to kissing you. You might've been next on the list. He's a friendly guy. Maybe a crush isn't what it used to be. Or maybe—

He pulls back from your lips with a huffy expression on his face, "Y/N," he says quietly, "I'm a man with an incredibly fragile ego, whatever you're worrying about is really getting in the way of kissing you."

"I'm just—

—Let me show you what I brought you in here for," he interrupts you, takes your hand and tugs you towards the window. Then, he puts a hand on each of your shoulders and directs your attention to the wall.

It's lined with record sale plaques for singles and albums over the years—double Platinums and Gold-Somethings. Harry watches you eyes run over them all, a proud but unsure look in your eye. You're not sure why he's showing them to you, he knows that. He hopes you're not intimidated by them, he's certainly not showing you to try to score any points. There's a sweeter gesture behind it. He points to one leaning against the wall, not hanging. He's got it resting on the bubble wrap it was sent over in.

Stepping up closer behind you, Harry rests his chin on your shoulder, "That one's for you."

"What?"

"I want you to have it, been saving it for you … If I ever got brave enough."

The question falls from your lips before you really think about it, "Why would you want me to have it …"

Harry waits to see if you'll let on you've figured it out, he thought it was pretty obvious really, but you've never been one to elevate yourself or assume, and Harry knows that about you. So, when you don't keep talking, he confirms it for you, "That song is about you."

You just blink, eyes on the framed plaque taking in the name of the song and hearing it in your head.

It's about me? You think you want to hear it, you need to Google the lyrics and make sure you have them right in your head. Harry wrote a song about you. Harry wrote that song about you.

"When … When did you write it?"

"You mean why?" Harry raises his head and steps to stand next to you, he observes your face carefully.

"No, I mean when." You're starring at it like the plaque might answer the question, "When did you write it?"

Harry runs a hand over his head as he thinks, "A few years back, after that time you came out to LA … Didn't record it until this year though …"

Harry watches your face expand in surprise and then crumple back down to confusion. You really don't get it. He's not sure how to make you in one night. He supposes he can't. So he trails his hand up the back of your arm and then around your back, tilting his head down and waiting to see if you'll pull away. When you don't, he kisses the corner of your mouth and then opens his wider to take you lips in his properly.

It's different to the kisses outside the bar, now that you're both out of your outer layers Harry can feel your body against his in ways he's only dreamed, and it's sending everything straight between his legs. Harry's hands explore your back and the curve of your hips, thumbs almost reaching the underside of your breasts but not quite. It's a little awkward when he senses you've felt him hardening between you. Usually, lust clouds that moment, and Harry doesn't mind intimate partners being acutely aware of how they're affecting him. But with you he's a little hesitant, he senses the awkwardness on your side. Friends don't feel those body parts on each other, friends don't… He almost groans when your mouth leaves his without warning.

You think he'll probably change his mind about all this.

"Have you changed your mind?" You ask, not able to stop it.

Confusion colours his features, and his lips smack together, like he's savouring tasting you, "Wha—

"About wanting to be kissing me," you clarify.

"What? No." Harry's eyebrows have shot up, and he's shaking his head, "I barely even started! Didn't I just say I wrote that song about you—why the hell would I—want to do more than just kiss you—You think I'm gonna change my mind?"

You shrug, "Maybe. I don't know."

"Well," he stands up straighter and pins you with his stare, "I'm not. I promise I'm not going to change my mind. And I promise I'll never make you feel like you're asking for too much. Ever."

"Now you're trying to make me cry," you say, hearing him repeat back to you the insecurity leftover from your conversation about your ex. You're half kidding with your words but also not. You believe him. You trust him.

Harry grimaces, sways your bodies together gently, "I really hate seeing you cry, could you not? I had other plans."

You sniff through a laugh as Harry wraps his arms around your middle tighter," What plans are those?"

"Well, I literally thought Scrabble," he tells you through a smile, trying his best to make you laugh, "But I'm open to whatever dirty things you were thinking as well."

"You'll win Scrabble."

So, Harry instructs you to bring your tea and your sore feet back into his bedroom. He gets you a fluffy pair of hiking socks and tells you to take yours off, and your tights, and get comfortable on the bed with him and the block of chocolate. You've polished off a family size together before, the sugar going straight to your heads and always leading to a giggly night of reminiscing and Almosts.

This time though, you only get halfway through the tea and Harry pushes the chocolate off the bed onto the floor in favour of you straddling his hips. It started with a stolen kiss against your temple, and then another on your cheek, and one close to your lips, and then you captured his face in your hands and really kissed him. Within a few moments, Harry was dragging you over to him. His hands settle on the swell of your backside as it sits against his thighs and your lips trace the line of his jaw. This was really happening. You'd really let him peel off your dress and flick off your bra. His shirt was somewhere with the forgotten snacks, and you seemed extremely eager to keep feeling his hardness pressed between your legs.

"I swear to god, I never dreamed this would happen," he murmurs, hissing when your hips pressed into his at a different angle, "Was sure I'd be going to your wedding one day, completely miserable and probably end up drunk and causing a scene. Embarrass you so badly you'd never want to see me again, and you'd just run away with your stupid husband."

You pull back and watch Harry ramble, your bare chest rising and falling against his, "You're a real glass half full kinda guy, aren't you?" you smile at him.

"I just," his eyes drop to your chest, nipples puckered for him, and he scrunches them shut then drops his forehead onto your sternum with a big sigh, "This is fucking unreal, and my brain is just struggling to comprehend—you're breathtaking, and I feel like my chest is gonna explode."

"It's also 4am, so there's always the potential your brain is just plain tired," your index finger is drawing circles on the back of his shoulder as Harry leans against you, you pause and run your hand over the back of his head, "Maybe we should sleep for a little … I'll be here when you wake up," you say in response to Harry squeezing his arms around your waist tightly as if you were going to disappear. Or worse, leave.

His indescribable green eyes find yours in the light from the bedroom lamps, "Will you let me hold you while you sleep?"

"Yeah," you nod, although somehow that question seems more intimate than the lack of clothes between you at the moment. You're distinctly less dressed than Harry, who's still got his trousers on, you're only covered by your underwear.

"We don't have to rush this, right? Got all the time in the world now," still, as he speaks his palms trail up your back and then down again, skimming the sides of your breasts, "Just don't wanna miss anything is all."

"I promise I'm incredibly boring in my sleep, won't miss anything," you tease, "Might be the only time you get any peace."

Harry tightens his forearms around your back and finds the soft skin below your ear with his lips—once, twice, three little kisses—"I feel pretty at peace right now, just having you here. Feels like I'm living a dream."

You don't reply for a moment, but you let your body rest against Harry's in a comfortable hug, your voice is quiet, "You really wrote me a song?"

"I did."

"I've always loved that song."

“Well, it's been yours all along."

"Nobody's ever written a song about me."

"I should hope not."

"Are you going to write another one?"

"Without a doubt."

++

Chat to me here

[wishingicouldfly]

I've been actively blogging for more than six months, even though I've had a tumblr account for ten years. I started reading One Direction (specifically Larry) fanfiction about the same time.

Originally, I read exclusively canon compliant fiction--I was hungry for industry insider, what-could-have-happened narratives. But I've slowly branched out into other genres. I find fanfic--good fanfic--super calming. When I've had too much stunting, too much noise, I grab a fanfic and immerse myself. So I thought it was time to do a post about my favorites. Keep in mind, I'm terrible at cataloging, and I have over 150 bookmarks on my A03 Account, so this is by no means an exhaustive list.

I'm not including the classics like Tired, Tired Sea and Escapade. While I do love both of those (so well written), because a lot of people know about those already.

My all time favorites are by @helloamhere

1. The Multipicity of Powers - https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580229

Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.

But this isn’t that universe.

//an X-Men AU.

Me: I never thought I'd love a super hero 1D cross over, but this is so well done. The backstory, the pacing, the characterization, the friendship. Read it.

2. Saving Symphony Hall and it's prequel Night Out - https://archiveofourown.org/works/12633921

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

Me: The best sex scene I've ever read is in the prequel Night Out. Sexy, but tender. I love the characterizations in this duo--ABO but not traditional. Doesn't feel out of character.

3. Just Let Me -https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695350

The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.

Me: I love love love this. Harry is so gentle, and Louis is so stubborn and needy. It's ABO but subtle. I'll read this one again and again. It's comforting.

@HelloAmHere is one of the best writers I know--amazing stuff. I also love their werewolf story, but it's not finished, so I won't link it here.

Other favorites:

1. Seven Up by cherrystreet - https://archiveofourown.org/works/5828539

Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years. They fall apart and come together, their lives and emotions recorded. Harry calls it a time capsule. Louis calls it a pain in the arse.

Me: Trigger Warning, major character death. I literally SOBBED through the end of this. It was lovely and devastating. So good. But be warned.

2. Light, Spark and Fire series by @greenfeelings

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Louis and Zayn run a music label, Liam is Britain’s up-and-coming pop star, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down until he builds his own up, and Niall holds them all together without realising he does.

Me: A nice healthy three-parter. Characters you just want to live with for a while.

3. Relief Next to Me by dolce_piccante - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117942

AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

Me: This one is super long, so be prepared when you dive in. It's got a lot of lovely bits, and some great smut.

4. 2012 'Verse by ashavahishta - https://archiveofourown.org/series/27601

Me: This is a five-parter and satisfies my love of canon compliant stories. It spans most of 2012 and into 2013, and illustrates the difficulties of Harry and Louis' relationship amid the band success and management disapproval.

5. Love After the End of the World by mercurial-madhouse (writing_practice) - https://archiveofourown.org/works/31251434/chapters/77248901

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

Me: Really unusual (as far as I can tell) end of the world story. I loved the characterizations of soul mates here at the end of the world.

6. Flightless Bird by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401653/chapters/14656807

AU where Louis Tomlinson is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival from ballet school, moody dance prodigy Harry Styles joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late?

Me: Trigger Warning, sexual assault (by an original character to a major character). This was a little brutal because I hated to see a broken Harry, but it was well written and has a happy ending.

7. Wear It Like A Crown by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816771/chapters/3900322

AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis' teenage fantasies.

Me: I loved Louis in this one--actually they are both pretty great. Scratch that, they are ALL pretty great.

8. Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331958/chapters/7285322

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Me: I don't like the self-hate here, but it was necessary for the story and H comes around. Found family vibe.

9. Gods & Monsters by Velvetoscar - https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090982/chapters/4550871

The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.

Me: I loved Harry in this one. Louis gets there. I don't like Liam, but I don't think you're supposed to. Zayn is great.

10. Own the Scars by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks) - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1010796

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

Me: Harry is lovely in this one. Trigger warning, substance abuse and near death.

11. Wild Love by purpledaisy - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030904

AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

Me: I loved this way more than I thought I would. It's lovely and messy and I love it.

12. Victorian Boy by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosann1986/readings?page=6

Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.

Me: Historical fiction I didn't intend to love. I LOVE Harry in this one. LOTS of smut, so be warned.

13. Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30752633

Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.

Me: lovely, protective Louis just trying to do the right thing.

14. Turning Page by purpledaisy for SockstheDog

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826345

AU: Harry Styles tries to get lost in a place he’s never been.  Louis Tomlinson has been perfecting the art of being lost for years. What they don’t expect to find is each other.

Me: sweet love story. Niall owns a bar, and is pretty great.

15. Freedom Always Comes With a Price by Cyantific - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30278514/chapters/74624262

A shared dream brings them together onto the X-factor stage, but one decision changes Harry and Louis’ lives overnight. Thrust into a world of instant stardom, they're forced to live a lie to sustain their dreams, but years of living in the shadows and under strict management takes its toll.

With the bands impending hiatus, there’s no better time for change, so they think.

Desperate for a solution, they turn to an unlikely source with a radical plan. An unfortunate accident sets everything in motion, but not how they intended, leaving Louis’ memories altered, Harry broken-hearted and full of regret.

Can Harry figure out a way to fix everything? Will he even want to once he sees how Louis moved on after the hiatus? Will Louis ever find out the truth of their past and can he forgive Harry after all this time?

In the end, two friends find out that memories are elusive, trust is everything and love is the only antidote.

Me: Heartbreaking when they lose each other, but really good in the end.

16. Little Technicolor Things by scary_crow - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025519/chapters/13821628

Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California.

17. Hold You Now by solvetheminourdreams - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30253536/chapters/74556744

Three years ago, Harry Styles said goodbye to communications consultancy firm McQuiston Worldwide, leaving a life of travel and agency PR behind. When he accompanies his best friend to a family wedding across the Atlantic, he'll be forced to reopen old wounds and face his past—one that no one wants to hash out, but may just have to.

Me: Niall is great. They almost miss each other in this one, and you just want to bash them over the head. But they figure it out.

18. At Risk, I Fold by clare328 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542480

2015 is a stream of hotel rooms and whisky on the rocks, tired glances and touching hands under tables. It’s the bears and the bees under a rainbow sky, and Harry and Louis have to figure out how to grow up together, instead of apart.

Me: A canon compliant fic that feels like it could have really happened. Set in 2015. Lovely first chapter and scene where Harry writes If I Could Fly--i could read that chapter over and over.

19. Into The Blue by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035822/chapters/2065499

AU. In which Louis is Harry's scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can't be all that difficult to convince Harry that they're on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.

Me: AKA the Scuba fic.

20. Tie Your Heart by ArcadianMaggie - https://archiveofourown.org/works/546688/chapters/973236

Harry grows wings.

Me: How can you not love a fic where Harry grows wings? Trigger warning: injury of a major character.

21. I think I'll end this here. My last and probably first favorite (read it more than once) is...

my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach - https://archiveofourown.org/works/934996/chapters/1820282

When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.

Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

Me: I LOVED the Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, and I'm a huge fan of time travel, so this is right up my alley. It's really well done, weaving canon into fantasy and then going years forward in tme. I love everything about it. Great character development. Really good smut. Trigger warning, there's a little underage sex, so be aware. Anyway, LOVE this one so much.

I'll add to this but it's already longer than I meant it to be.

[haleigh-sloth]

you were talking about something a bit similar yesterday so I'm sorry for being late to the conversation, but I just do not understand people who are fans of the LOV and yet are so vehemently hateful towards Midoriya, and in turn most of the other kids. I understand the criticism that sometimes the kids get things handed to them by the story, but tbh that is just to be expected of the protagonist characters in a shonen manga like this one. even so however, it's not like Midoriya gets off free of everything that he does? his actions and his sacrifices and very actually very rarely ever truly appreciated within the story, just because he is successful in most of his feats doesn't mean that the people around him necessarily Notice (him only getting one internship request after the sports festival despite displaying amazing power and critical thinking skills, the Stain Hosu incident, even in the VERY BEGINNING of the series when he runs forward to save Bakugou he says himself that he was only reprimanded for being so careless in his actions).

I see so many people who are (so ironically) only seeing the story in black and white, when in reality these kids, and Midoriya especially, are being negatively impacted by hero society just as much as the villains are, they're just experiencing it from a different angle. (Which adds a whole other layer to the Midoriya becoming the greatest hero plotline, because the society that he is also fighting against is the one that was shaped that way by his predecessor- albeit unintentionally.) Midoriya is going to be the one to try to save Shigaraki, Midoriya has already become the greatest hero by actively looking past the actions of Shig and the League and wanting to help them.

- I didn't get to finish my thought from the FULL ESSAY I sent earlier (my bad about how long that ended up being lmao) but...yeah I was saying about how Midoriya is already a better hero at 16 than most other pros because he actively wants to help the League. Midoriya is exactly the kind of hero that the villains, and Shigaraki in particular, needs in order to have the happy ending that so many want for him. I agree that the manga has been a bit of a drag-along for the past few...months tbh, and I am absolutely Livid at the way that Bones has structured the story, and it's causing a lot of boredom and Tons of tension with people, but I feel like a lot of villain fans are taking that out on the integrity of the characters themselves, which is causing a lot of the mischaracterizaton of Midoriya in particular. n idk, I just find it sort of ironic, DEFINITELY annoying, and in general just.... :/ yknow. just :/

I think it's completely valid for people to just simply not like certain characters for whatever reason they might have, im not here to police people's opinions, but when people's opinions come at the expense of misunderstanding pretty key elements of the characters / story they're talking about, that's when I have a problem. FINAL MESSAGE I promise lmao sorry again for the 600 page essay

You're good lol. In fact, I've discussed some of this in-depth in private with a tumblr friend. Again, I feel like my DMs are being read 👀 anyway lol

So obviously this is going to be a long ass post so I'll add a cut toward the top. But I wanna start off with: there's a lot to unpack here and I'm going to preface with, I agree with you. But I also have to say that I see both sides, but when it comes to vehemently hating a character and letting that hate for that character lead to bad takes (which I see for Deku and another character that I'll get to under the cut) I feel like the overall point people are trying to make loses its grip because it starts to just turn into bashing, and doesn't actually hold water with what's actually in the story.

"I just do not understand people who are fans of the LOV and yet are so vehemently hateful towards Midoriya, and in turn most of the other kids. I understand the criticism that sometimes the kids get things handed to them by the story, but tbh that is just to be expected of the protagonist characters in a shonen manga like this one."

I'll be honest, I see a lot of people love on the UA kids. Especially ones like Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Tsuyu, basically any of the ones with personalities that are beyond "I have to get stronger! I have to catch up with my classmates and live up to everyone's expectations!" Which I personally feel like pretty much all of the UA kids have as personalities, save for the main five, and the few above that I listed. But for the hatred toward Midoriya....oy. Where do I begin.

Well, I actually don't see a lot of Deku hate on my dash. I follow a very small number of blogs, most of which are pretty in line with my POV of the story and therefore, I don't see a lot of bad takes.

A little baby rant inside of this monster post:

Yes, I have come across extremist villain-stan blogs that, while I agree with some of their opinions on the villains, I don't agree with their opinions on the hero characters. I've unfollowed blogs like that, because they started exhausting me and making me upset, tbqh. Like yes, the villains are the best characters in the story. But guess what? They aren't the only ones in the story. We have other characters that are important to the overall themes and messages. I, personally, really like the hero kid:villain set up. Others I've seen want the heroes and villains completely separated in the story and for the villains to save themselves without any help from the heroes?? Makes zero sense because the story is about these becoming true heroes, and in order to do that they need to challenge themselves by saving a villain. So...blogs that were spouting that nonsense, I've unfollowed and stopped engaging with.

But back to Midoriya. Okay, I genuinely, genuinely like Midoriya! I've liked him from the beginning. He's not favorite, he's not even my second favorite. He's in my top 5 though. But the only dislike I personally see toward Midoriya on my blog is for these problematic things that have occurred:

Telling Shouto he thinks he's going to forgive his father because he's kind, making Natsuo feel bad for not forgiving his abusive POS father.

Trying to "reach" Dabi the same way he reached Shouto, only to just cause more harm.

Saying Endeavor is a mentor who made him stronger??? TO Dabi??

Teaming up with the fucking top 3

So....basically...any time Midoriya has been interjected into the Todoroki plot line, he's been less than likable--AFTER what he did for Shouto during the sports festival. That was a positive thing, and it actually kicked off the Todoroki plot line really really well. It got us into Shouto's inner world and started his story off nicely I think.

And you can argue that Midoriya's flaw is being blinded by hero society and seeing the good in everybody, BUT--

This was LITERALLY THE FIRST INTERACTION between Midoriya and Endeavor. THIS set the tone for the Todoroki plot. So....all that stuff up there that people hate about Midoriya, is definitely valid. I mean...I don't think it's worth hating him for but people can like and dislike who they want. But this just reiterates my belief that so many things in BNHA come to a fucking halt for Endeavor's bitch ass. The main character included.

"it's not like Midoriya gets off free of everything that he does? his actions and his sacrifices and very actually very rarely ever truly appreciated within the story, just because he is successful in most of his feats doesn't mean that the people around him necessarily Notice (him only getting one internship request after the sports festival despite displaying amazing power and critical thinking skills, the Stain Hosu incident, even in the VERY BEGINNING of the series when he runs forward to save Bakugou he says himself that he was only reprimanded for being so careless in his actions)"

So, I don't entirely disagree but I do have to disagree to an extent. Midoriya's consequences have been a topic for a while now and everyone says the same thing. Nothing ever comes back to him, he doesn't ever actually fail at anything. His failures don't actually hold him back or push him to challenge his beliefs. Like...narrative consequences here is what I'm talking about. Midoriya only got one offer after the sports festival, yes that's a consequence of putting your body through ridiculous strain and self-destructing in front of everyone like that. But it ended up working in his favor because he went with Gran Torino who taught him his next big move, full cowling, which I think we can all agree was a major power-up for him. So...it wasn't much of a consequence in the long run. It wasn't a set back. And you're right, he was reprimanded for rushing in to save Bakugo in the beginning, which is coming into play now when we see that it's actually hard for people to step in and save others because everyone is so trained by society to just let heroes handle everything. Even though Bakugo would have died if not for Midoriya. BUT--what happened next? All Might gave him his power. That was a reward by the narrative. Granted that HAD to happen for our story to kick off, but I'm just trying to show how Midoriya doesn't ever actually have any set-backs.

"Midoriya is going to be the one to try to save Shigaraki, Midoriya has already become the greatest hero by actively looking past the actions of Shig and the League and wanting to help them."

"but...yeah I was saying about how Midoriya is already a better hero at 16 than most other pros because he actively wants to help the League. Midoriya is exactly the kind of hero that the villains, and Shigaraki in particular, needs in order to have the happy ending that so many want for him"

Fully agree here. I'll say that recently I've seen a lot of people making posts about how they don't think it'll be Midoriya doing the reaching and saving. How they think it'll be the LOV saving each other without the help of the heroes, how they'll reach each other's hearts?? Which...I don't even know what to say besides ask people who think that what they think the purpose of all these parallels and similarities drawn between him and Shigaraki are for, if not to bring them together in the end (and stay connected too--not just be yeeted from each other's lives), the two brothers who were separated from each other, and a teenage girl who was never accepted by her peers and basically forced to find family in a group of adult men lol. I'm not sure if you were responding to my rant yesterday with this ask lol, but if you are, I mean yeah I'm on board here. Midoriya is supposed to be that "true hero" that breaks through even the toughest, strongest walls, who in HIS case is Shigaraki. But not just him, Shouto, Ochacko, and Bakugo too. There's a kid:villain set up for a reason, so people who don't want that set up are either just....super super one-sided in how they're reading it, or it's just their preference and they're not actually caring about what the story itself is going to do. (Bakugo is kind of a seventh wheel....lol)

Again, I can't say I've seen too much irrational Deku hate on my dash. I avoid stupid shit for the most part. Most of the blogs I follow, while they may not like Midoriya, they still see the redeeming characteristics in him and still make valid takes on the story and take his actual character into account. But I have seen the irrational hate you're talking about, I've just successfully yeeted it from my dash.

Another character, and I know you didn't bring this character up but I feel this issue applies to them as well--is Hawks. Now...I do not like Hawks. I don't hate him, but I seriously just cannot bring myself to like him. I can't tell if it's his fans that have just ruined him for me, or just his overall vibe in the story. I don't even know at this point I've spent so long avoiding getting to know his character. But--I've seen villain-stan blogs hate him so much to a point where they completely forget that he is also a victim of society and has his own issues. And their takes on him come at the expense of....well, a clear understanding of the story. Now right now Hawks is being handled not-so-great, but even before this. Of course nobody has to like him, I mean I just said that I don't, but this irrational hate that comes at the expense of his actual character is annoying to me.

"I think it's completely valid for people to just simply not like certain characters for whatever reason they might have, im not here to police people's opinions, but when people's opinions come at the expense of misunderstanding pretty key elements of the characters / story they're talking about, that's when I have a problem"

Yep yep yep. I agree here too. So in a nutshell, no matter what character it is, if people irrationally hate them to a point where their takes on the story just stop making sense, yes I agree that it starts to wear away at the integrity of the character, and it also annoys me and I end up just unfollowing and I no longer take anything they say seriously. And there are a couple of blogs I follow that really don't like Midoriya at all, but they don't waste their time talking about how much they don't like him. They simply just...don't talk about him. That's what people should do because otherwise it fills EVERYONE'S dash with negativity that we didn't ask for. That's why I'm glad I've stopped getting so many asks about Hawks because I have never really had anything nice to say about him and after so many people sending me stuff asking to talk about him I started to feel like a shitty person for filling peoples' dashes up with that. I mean...I'm seriously mean to Hawks lol. I am. So yeah.

I don't particularly understand the extreme hatred either. I totally get not liking a character but that extreme hatred you're talking about I've made a successful effort to distance myself from. Thankfully.

[jiminrings]

THIS IS MY TIME TO SHINE I DONT HAVE AO3 AUTHOR RECS BUT I DO HAVE TUMBLR ONES

pretty boy ONE OF MY FAVS i started reading it a while ago and i check in every week or so to see if it’s been updated and it recently has!! super good

peonies it’s short but made me tear up a little

before i ever met you it’s different from things i usually read but it was so well written and God just so good

the world after probably the second saddest (a very VERY close first) fic on this list i haven’t reread it because it’s so sad and it made me bawl my eyes out

everlasting this was the first incarnation au i’ve ever read and it is truly So amazing i might reread it after sending this

just a veil short but heartbreaking

page turner THE WAY HES WRITTEN EVERYTHING ABOUT HIS CHARACTER ITS JUST SO AMAZING i love love love this one

his dandelion i feel like i sent this to u already? but if not it’s so amazing i love his character in this he’s perfect

ride or die A FAVORITE i love tropes like this and it’s so easy to visualize. so so so so so amazing i’ll never shut up abt it

ghostin THIS ONE I KNOW IVE SENT IN BEFORE and it made an anon or two cry i remember but i just think it’s worth a read (i don’t remember if u read it 😭 It’s long so i understand 🤷‍♀️). it’s so beautiful and seokjin is just so amazing and perfect and everything about this fic is amazing and perfect

rattled youve probably already read this but if not oh my god you need to you need to right now

mikrokosmos if you choose to read this please read all the warnings every single word Please it’s a very dark story that i’ve only read once because of how sad it is. u know when a book affects you to the point where ur thinking abt it for days ???? that’s this one, probably one of the saddest things i’ve ever read in my life

from home i remember when u first read this i was obsessed with it and sent it to all my friends that i knew read fics and they loved it too it’s just so amazing !!!

effortlessly this one too i read them around the same time like back to back and i was just taking abt it non stop for days

frost impressions i LOVE jungkooks character in this just the way he acts and how he’s a little dorky i love when he’s dorky

pay per view 1 + 2 i was OBSESSED when this came out this oc is probably one of my favorite ocs ever

i hope u like at least some of these!!! i tried to make it a mix of everything and i Know u said u need some angst so i pulled out the big guns but i didn’t want u to be reading angst ALL DAY so there’s some cute ones to lighten the mood <33 Also if the links r messed up i’m sorry i did all of this very fast PLZ TELL ME SO I CAN SEND THE RIGHT ONE 😭😭

- 🌟

UHMMMMM WHY R YOU THE BEST :// thank u so much for all these recs bff <3 means a lot that you took the time to compile all these and send to me!! EVERYBODY SAY THANK U STAR ANON

[sarcasticfina]

Fic Writer Tag Game

How many works do you have on AO3? 263

What’s your total AO3 word count? 4,901,188

How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they? including the fandoms on FFnet, that haven't yet been moved over to ao3, that'd be a total of 37. separating the larger fandoms (marvel, dcu) into their individual parts: Thor; Arrow; Smallville; The Vampire Diaries; Glee; Captain America; Supernatural; Teen Wolf; Iron Man; Life with Derek; Firefly; Friday Night Lights; X-Men; Fantastic Four; Harry Potter; Sons of Anarchy; Girl Meets World; Batman; Daredevil; From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series; Transformers; Lost Girl; Game of Thrones; Banshee; High School Musical; The OC; One Tree Hill; CSI: New York; Degrassi; Gossip Girl; NCIS; The Unusuals; Criminal Minds; iCarly; Secret Life of the American Teenager; Twilight; and The Listener

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. and I wonder (if everything could ever feel this real forever) - darcy/bucky - Steve tells him that Darcy's harmless. Bucky imagines, on paper, Darcy is harmless. HYDRA wouldn't give her a second glance. But he does. He can barely keep his eyes off her. He's not sure he wants to. | Kudos: 5576

2. I Climbed The Tree To See The World (When The Gusts Came Around To Blow Me Down, I Held On As Tightly As You Held On To Me) - darcy centric | darcy/steve - The path to self-discovery, including becoming Coulson's assistant-slash-liaison-slash-bff, Captain America's lady love, and rating fourth on the SHIELD BAMF scale, was like the yellow brick road; it was chaos and confusion around every bend. | Kudos: 3973

3. Take a little piece of my heart (and keep it for yourself) - oliver/felicity - A collection of Olicity prompts on Tumblr posted here for easier access/reading. | Kudos: 3498

4. You put your arms around me (and I'm home) - darcy/bucky - A collection of Darcy/Bucky oneshots, drabbles, and prompt fills. | Kudos: 3293

5. you (anchor me back down) - darcy/bucky - "I'll be right back." Famous last words. | Kudos: 2747

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? not all of them. i do try to keep up on them, especially on longer stories when there's been significant wait times in between chapters, or when a reader is asking a question or is unclear on something. and especially when someone writes a really indepth comment/review, i like to respond to those and talk about motivations and character growth.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? I've written a number of fics that either had suicide or major character death, so i'm not sure if one outranks the other in terms of most angsty... hmm... i remember "be still and know that I'm with you (be still and know that I am here)" and "light a match, burn the world to ash (I will watch it die, and hold your hand as I fly)" both got some pretty intense reactions when they were posted. And "It's Your Song That Sets Me Free (I Sing It While I Feel I Can't Go On)" was basically just angst from beginning to end. buuuuut, i think i'll say "so you think you can tell (heaven from hell" was, only because there's a build up of everything going so right, only to pivot at the end, so it feels very bittersweet.

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written? i loooooove crossovers. i find writing in the marvel fandom makes things quite easy, but also smallville. as long as i can find a common thread, i enjoy finding a way to overlap two shows. i'll say the hardest one to write was "ruby red slippers (unavailable in her size)." I'm not sure why, but i found writing each personality together just felt strange. i liked the idea behind the story, but i definitely remember feeling like i was really forcing myself to keep going, like something just didn't fit right.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? oh, definitely. you cannot please everyone, it's impossible. for the most part, hate comes and i either argue back, take the criticism for what it's worth, or just ignore it when it's baseless. i think the hate that bothered me the most was a homophobic PM someone sent me re: "you know I will adore you ('til eternity)," on FFnet. i actually went and searched it up. they've since blocked me so i can't read our whole thread back and forth. but i did put part of it on tumblr so i could rant on it a bit, so you can see that here.

Do you write smut? If so what kind? ha. yes. depending on the story, it can be really detailed or really flowery. it depends on the ship, the plot, and how graphic i feel like being. i've definitely become more comfortable over the years with my writing. that said, i think everybody likes something different. i once had a reviewer tell me a sex scene was too much, just too intense. it was a stefan/caroline story and to be fair, that entire oneshot was just them fucking, lol, but it is what it is. to each their own.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Multiple times.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! for the record, i am always happy to have my stories translated and shared. i just like having a link sent to me and to be credited.

What’s your all time favorite ship? i have a list of OTPs, because interests change and as shows come and go, my love for a ship can be shelved for a while before it pops back up at random. currently, i can't get enough of buck/eddie from 9-1-1. and, historically, chloe/oliver (smallville) and felicity/oliver (arrow) have been two of my top OTPs. but i think i'd have to go with bonnie/damon. they had all the potential and the show dropped the ball by not exploring it. at the same time, that's kind of a blessing, because i don't trust those writers to properly explore what they had without eventually destroying it for the likes of de/ena. it means a treasure trove for writing where it could have gone and all the what if's.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will? the intention is always to finish. but given how i feel about allison mack and how that impacts my feelings re: chloe sullivan, pretty much anything with her as a main character is not something i see myself returning to.

What are your writing strengths? What are your writing weaknesses? i'm putting these together because my strength is my weakness. i love to write. when i get an idea, i go all in and i will skip eating and sleeping to just write write write. but i also eventually hit a wall and i get so many ideas that i hyperfocus on one until the steam is gone and then i hyperfocus on the next one to maintain that need to keep writing, accidentally leaving the last story in the dust for entirely too long. i also have clinical depression that comes and goes, which hasn't been super great mixed with covid and isolation, so more often recently, i find myself overly exhausted and despite wanting to write, can rarely get motivated to do so. so, pre-covid, wrote so much i left entirely too many stories dangling. during covid, i've just been reading and struggling to get myself focused enough to do what i love.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? i appreciate the authenticity when possible, but i've recently been reading more about how native speakers of other languages feel when a) their language is butchered by google translate, or b) it's just not genuine in terms of how bilingual speakers act or speak.

What was the first fandom you’ve written for? it was smallville, but i remember adopting it out to someone else because i wasn't going to finish it. so if you look at my ffnet, the first fandom i wrote for appears to be x-men: the movie, but i remember writing a chloe/oliver story prior to that.

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written? i have a lot. i mean, on ffnet, i have 576 stories, many of which were transferred over to ao3, with a lot of oneshots and drabbles getting joined together into collections. so there's a ton to pick from that span a 14-ish year timeline.

"you know I will adore you ('til eternity)" and "let me break (the walls that surround me)" hold a special place in my heart.

honestly, each story is important in its own way. there are bits and pieces of each that i love. every time i write something new it feels like my favorite. my best. and then a new idea comes along. there are scenes i've written that i loved more than the whole of what they became. lines that stand out that are almost too good to be a part of the larger picture.

one of my all time favorite passages i've written was bonnie's thoughts on damon and herself in 'if you love me (let me go)":

He is far from perfect. He is a novel of red, corrective ink. He is frayed pages and torn binding. His life, his choices, his mistakes leave lasting effects on everyone he meets.

She is a lifeboat with a hole in it. An anchor that drowns in the sea while everyone else remains steady above. She is both the calm and the storm, and while she screams that she will not be tamed, she cries. Bittersweet tears that go unnoticed and uncared about.

there are other stories, other pieces of dialogue, that i've been proud of. that make me laugh when i re-read them. that make me cry. and i love them. there are others that make me wilt and cringe and regret. it's a process. love and pride and growth, all bound together.

Tagging: @absentlyabbie, @anonymous033, and anyone else who'd like to fill this all out, haha

[loftec]

Heyyyyy girl! We haven't talked in a hot minute, but I just finished reading I Will Follow Him earlier and hadn't had a chance to comment when a friend brought the nonsense anon tumblr drama to my attention. Anyway, I'll just say you handled it much more gracefully than I ever would (and probably have in the past, lmao). And I know you have a thick skin and this isn't something that would make you stop writing, but I still just wanted to let you know that I've missed your writing. I don't know if it's just in my head, but having been around the fandom for roughly the same amount of time as you have, I've discerned patterns in terms of the way people write and even what they respond to as readers, and the cliques that get formed around those things, so that to me it feels like even the fic itself generally has eras of writing styles? Like in my head I kind of cluster people together who seem simpatico in regards to the way they write IxM, but also how they express themselves and the way stories flow, whether there's depth of emotion or not, etc, etc. Anyway, for whatever reason, true or psychological, I find myself missing an era of fic that feels gone now. Not to say that there isn't any good writing anymore, just that it's simply a different vibe. So your new fic really brought me back to that old feeling. You always defy expectations when you adapt something into your own thing, so right off the bat I was pleasantly surprised that you, knowing Johnny Castle was not a completely accurate fit for Mickey because dancing/performing and also being a big man whore with the ladies (lmao), decided to subvert that and make him someone else. And Ian was Baby, but also not. My favorite thing though is the unspoken way you really showed Ian not feeling like he belongs anywhere. He has two families and none of them feel like home. I've felt that way my whole life and it's an emotional theme that's always been highly relevant. Makes you feel like there's nowhere you actually belong or anyone you really belong with. So I loved that aspect and look forward to it being explored more in the sequel(s). I thought your ending to this part of the story was realistic, even if I teared up and felt the loss. I could imagine a bit of a time jump and them meeting in completely different circumstances down the line. Again, totally unexpected that you wouldn't even include the big dance at the end, but fucking bravo honestly, because I couldn't picture some cheesy shit where Mickey dances with Ian in front of everyone for shock value and do the lift. Lolololllll... but yeah... do people honestly think Baby & Johnny lived happy ever after once the credits rolled on the actual movie anyway??? No way in hell. Lol. They were too different in ways that couldn't be overcome back then, sorry. He was meant to be her sexual/romantic awakening, and she went on to have a freer life. That's what I think. Ian & Mickey have a lot more in common, and although they have obstacles to overcome, they ultimately will be able to understand each other, and I think, get on the same page eventually. So please, think no more of any hate-adjacent crap you got or will get for this, because you'll always have a willing audience here, and we enjoy your voice so much. 💜

Hey my friend! It sure has been a hot minute, and this is so interesting! I hadn't even really thought about it, but I think you're on to something here. I haven't really read IxM fic in a good while and I kind of just figured that it was all on me because I have changed over the years, but it makes so much sense that the fic culture would change too. The characters are different, the tone is different, the fandom is different... it stands to reason that the fic is different too. I remember how fascinated I used to be with finding demarcations of time in fic, going back chronologically through the tag on AO3. Season 1 fic felt one way, season 2 a whole other way, etc. I suppose we're yet another ring in the ever growing oak tree of this fandom, lol. We're vintage, baby! You want some of those season 5 vibes? You know where to go, these angsty oldies over here writing increasingly absurd AU in 2021, they got what you need.

All of this means so much to me, you have no idea, especially knowing some of these ideas resonated with you personally like that. I've been thinking about this dang AU for several years at this point and I'm a little bit frustrated that I didn't find a way to give the actual writing of it the time it deserved, but I guess I gave it all the time I had, in the end. So that's something. I hope to muster some enthusiasm to go back and perhaps edit it a bit more soon, or at least start working on the sequels. I was traveling with my dad last weekend and I played some of my playlists for him, telling him about all my silly research and plans, and I now have three books about Soul in the late 60s to read. So you know the next part is gonna be real approachable! 😆

I think I somehow imagined that everybody knows and loves Dirty Dancing, too? I never talked to anyone about it when I was a kid, and it's only really the last four years or so that I have started meeting people who love it, like me. And turns out it's all my friends from primary school! It's all of my coworkers (at least the women), and it's so many of my tumblr mutuals... I was halfway convinced that every single person around me was just waiting to reveal themselves as another fan. Not so much, turns out! Writing a 60s dirty dancing AU is really weird, honestly! I expected two people to read my MiB AU, and I should have had the same expectations for this one. Because that's fine! I will write what I want to write and people will read what they want to read, as it should be.

Most importantly, though. I couldn't agree more with your Dirty Dancing analysis! To me, the dancing isn't the actual ending. To me, the ending is "guess we surprised everybody" and "I'll never be sorry" and "neither will I". The dance number is just a good note Johnny comes back to end it all on, but really, the honest final note is that "I'll see ya" *saxophone solo intensifies*. I just think it's so very bittersweet and good, and I only loved the movie more when I realised this. With Ian, everything became more complicated. Clayton is no Dr Houseman, and there can be no cheesy onstage dancing, and Ian has barely had time to wrap his head around the idea of having a future at all, being himself, let alone spending it with someone he just met. The Dirty Dancing AU needed to end this way for it to truly be a Dirty Dancing AU, in my mind. The next part will be something entirely different, and operate under a different set of narrative rules... Oooh well, look at me. I'm all excited about it. I can't wait to write it!

Thank you 💜💜