#fanfictherapy

[itscoucouharry]

Through the Glass- Harry Styles oneshot

Y/N is admitted into a psychiatric hospital…

The sterile smell of the hospital clung to the air, faintly mingling with the citrusy scent of the flowers Harry always brought. You sat cross-legged on the stiff couch in the visitor’s room, dressed in the loose-fitting hospital sweats they provided. The pale walls felt heavy, pressing down on you despite the bright, artificial light overhead.

When the door opened, you didn’t have to look up to know it was Harry. His footsteps were deliberate, familiar, as though he didn’t want to startle you.

“Hey, love,” he said softly, his voice warm and grounding.

You glanced up, your heart aching at the sight of him. Harry looked like himself—messy curls, a knitted cardigan over a simple t-shirt, and a soft smile that didn’t quite hide the worry in his eyes. He held a bouquet of sunflowers in one hand and a small, wrapped package in the other.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice quiet but steady.

He placed the flowers on the table between you, their bright yellow petals standing out starkly against the gray room. “Thought these might brighten things up a bit.”

You managed a small smile, your fingers playing with the edge of your sleeve. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

Harry pulled up a chair, sitting close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. He set the package on the table, nudging it toward you. “I brought you something else, too. Thought it might help on the tougher days.”

You hesitated before unwrapping it, revealing a soft, oversized blanket in your favorite color. It felt like a hug in fabric form, and your throat tightened as you ran your fingers over the plush material.

“Harry…” you began, your voice breaking slightly.

“I just want you to be comfortable, even in here,” he said quickly, his green eyes searching yours. “I know it’s not easy, and I can’t fix everything, but… I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you looked away, ashamed of the emotions bubbling to the surface. “You shouldn’t have to do this,” you murmured. “I’m such a mess, Harry. You deserve someone… whole.”

“Stop that,” he said gently but firmly, reaching out to take your hand in his. His fingers were warm, calloused from years of guitar-playing, and they wrapped around yours as if to anchor you. “You’re not a mess. You’re human. And you’re going through something really hard right now, but that doesn’t make you less deserving of love.”

The sincerity in his voice cracked something open inside you. You’d spent so long feeling like a burden, like your depression had stolen the best parts of you and left behind someone unworthy. But Harry didn’t seem to see it that way.

“You show up here every time,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Even when I push you away, even when I can’t give you anything back. Why?”

“Because I love you,” he said simply, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “And love doesn’t just disappear when things get hard. It grows. It fights. It stays.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Harry reached out to gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. “You don’t have to do this alone, okay? I’m here, no matter how long it takes.”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the gratitude swelling in your chest. For the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of something—hope, maybe—begin to take root.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, your voice shaky but earnest.

Harry’s smile widened, soft and full of relief. He shifted his chair closer, pulling the blanket over your lap and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

For a while, you just sat there together, the world outside fading away. And though you knew the road ahead would still be hard, Harry’s presence made it feel a little less impossible.

[itscoucouharry]

Returning to my Roots lol

I don’t know how to start this, but I’m here, sitting at my work desk with my fingers on the keyboard, feeling the pull to return to something I haven’t touched in years: One Direction fanfiction.

Liam Payne’s death hit me harder than I thought it would. I didn’t realize how much of my heart was still tied to those moments when I was a teenager, writing about them, imagining a world where they were more than just the pop stars we saw on TV. I poured so much of my joy, my pain, my dreams, and my hopes into those stories. Back then, it was all about escape – the music, the camaraderie, the connection to a group of boys who seemed so real to us.

And now, with Liam gone, it feels like that piece of my heart has cracked open again.

I wasn’t ready for it. I wasn’t prepared for the flood of memories, the longing to go back to those days when the fanfics were all I could think about. The days when I believed in the magic of what if, in the safe space of fandoms, in the comfort of writing and reading about a band that gave us so much joy. The days when we were all just kids, learning and growing alongside each other.

I’m writing again. I’m writing for that younger version of me who found solace in words, in worlds I could shape with my own hands. I’m writing for the healing of the inner child that was never fully allowed to let go of those fantasies, those hopes, that feeling of being seen and understood. Because in a way, these stories helped me heal then, and they might just help me heal now.

I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know how long this healing process will take, or what new roads it will lead me down, but I do know that I’m doing it for the little me who needed these words to make sense of a world that didn’t always feel kind.

So here I am, typing away once more, remembering why I started writing in the first place. Not for fame, not for attention, but for the therapy of expression, for the joy of creating something from nothing, and for the love I still carry for a group of boys who made me feel like I wasn’t alone in this world.

Liam, thank you for everything. You’ll always be a part of this journey.