#this isnt every single song on the album but the post got long quick so uh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sauveteen · 6 years

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Burned Out Pt. 2 | s.m

this is part 2. catch up here.

warning: LONG ASS CHAPTER BECAUSE I HAD SO MANY IDEAS THAT I WANTED TO FIT IN UWU hope this makes you CRY / lots of build up i'm so soRrry (ran out of text blocks on this one so had to shorten it RIP)

The last time Shawn saw you was at his album launch party. He was reluctant to invite you, for reasons innumerable, but he couldn't not invite you either. He could tell you didn't want to be there, tell that you were all but shrivelling under the gaze of his friends and colleagues. Only you didn't know why until after you listened to the album.

To one's surprise but yours, you were his muse. Not for a song or two, like you had expected, but for an entire album. Titled Because I Had You, Shawn's fourth studio album was a sixteen track masterpiece lined with one heartbreak anthem after another. If you thought the title single was bad, the rest of the album had you sobbing in bed at night, stomach churning at the thought that the entire world was now a witness to what were supposed to be private moments, only for the two of you and no one else to see. It wasn't even the subtly sexual songs like Particular Taste that maddened you, but the way he wrote about your love. Bold, powerful, passionate — when, in reality, it was everything but.

What Shawn and you had was delicate. It was beautiful, like a dainty flower creeping through cracks in a cemented floor. Like a green leaf on an autumn day. Not what he wrote, and definitely not what his music videos portrayed.

And that was that. Whatever little hope you had harboured of Shawn being a nice person, of him respecting your wishes and leaving you the hell alone after what happened went down the drain. All you had expected from him after the terrible way he'd left you, no questions asked, was your private life back. No instagram posts, no tweets, and certainly no interviewers entertained. He had seemed sincere enough when he promised to do nothing of the sort, pinky finger held out to you in the adorable manner that only he could pull off. Your heart had lurched, then, calling yourself stupid to ever think that Shawn would disrespect you like that.

And then when the album came out — you hadn't told him not to write songs about you, had you? So it was only fair. He kept his end of the promise, he said. Never took your name, he said. But he did name you, in every other way possible. Your eyes. Your hair. Your scent. The books you read, the songs you sung. All out in the world for people to listen to, and pick you apart. All because he needed a banger of an album to top his previous ones and what better publicity than an unexplained, undramatic breakup, right?

In that moment, you'd said Fuck him and never looked back.

Until today. Despite pushing it back for as long as possible, your friends had coaxed you into hosting a party at your place, since you had completely distanced yourself for the best part of the year after the breakup. It hurt too much to see Shawn completely unbothered, drinking the night away, a girl that wasn't you snuggling into his side. God, you weren't jealous when you were together, so why did it hurt so much to see him with someone else when you two were apart? But your friends being your friends had managed to weasle their way back in, and here you are again. And here Shawn is again.

For the most part, you avoid him. You know he's been looking at you all night, stealing glances when his date doesn't isnt looking, his cheeks tinged red with the alcohol he'd been nursing, loud laughter reverberating through the room. Know he's been looking for signs of him all over your apartment, little titbits of the glorious time you had together.

Tough luck, champ, you scoff to yourself as you head towards the fridge to get out another case of beers out and ready on the counter. As soon as you were coherent enough to function again, the first thing you did was dump all his things in a storage unit and mail him the key. You couldn't bare even the briefest of conversations, and that was the best solution you could come up with at the time.

Well, everything except the ring. While all the love and fondness attached to the piece of jewellery had completely vanished over time, its value still remained. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get rid of it. Probably never will, either, but that's a story for another day.

But you digress. Currently, like always, you have more pressing matters on hand. Your fridge seems to be all out of Coronas, and while your friends like to act pretentious, no amount of Chardonnay can get them buzzing like a gold old bottle of beer. Sighing to yourself, you decide the only solution is a quick run to the liquor store, since you're the only one sober enough for the job. You smooth your dress down, grabbing your keys as you announce your departure to your shitfaced friends.

"I'll be back in fifteen minutes, tops. Please, for the love of God, do not touch my record player."

"Are we allowed to go into your lingerie drawer?" One of your friends, Kooper teases, raising his glass of scotch towards you. You grin, lifting a shoulder in response, "If you can find it, sure."

"I'm sure Shawn can help," Comes a slurred reply, and you can feel your cheeks start to redden. There's a couple of chuckles around the room, and before Shawn gathers his thoughts to respond, you're pulling the door shut behind you.

Shawn is left staring at the door, where you were standing mere seconds ago. His neck feels hot at the thought of going anywhere near your lingerie drawer again, so he chooses to keep quiet. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he tries to focus on what his date is saying (something about politics, he really doesn't understand a lot), but it's hard to ignore the dull ache in his heart, growing more painful with every second that passes.

You look gorgeous. Ravishing, almost. And Shawn's always known that, always questioned how exactly he ended up with a catch like you in the first place. Especially tonight, however, because you're wearing red and it's such a look against your tan skin that it has his mind spinning at the sight. The beer in his veins is enough to keep him floating a few centimetres above reality, chucking him into an alternate universe where he didn't break your heart and your trust, and you didn't hate him for either of those two.

His date places a hand on his thigh, and he reacts almost immediately. Although her touch is innocent, hands still animatedly flying around, his mind is everything but.

"Hey, babe," He interrupts sheepishly, "While I would love to talk about Trump for the rest of the night, is it cool if we... get out of here?"

Her smirk then is one that has him blanching in anticipation. It's just the right amount of teasing with a lethal amount of mischief as she grabs at his collar, leaning in close to whisper into his ear, "Why do you want to get out of here? We can do whatever you need, for however long you need, right here."

Even shitfaced, Shawn knows he's breaking every fucking rule in the How To Act Around An Ex 101 rulebook if he follows through with what she's suggesting. Normal exes don't even invite each other to their houses, let alone fuck someone else while they're out. That doesn't stop him though, because seconds later the pair are excusing themselves and stumbling blindly into a bedroom, her lips attached to his and his fingers digging into her sides.

He smells you the moment his back hits the bed, your citrus scent all he can remember from the time you two spent together. However, before he can mull on the fact that This might not be the guest bedroom, her fingers are tangling into his curls and body pressing against his front. The moan that tumbles out of his lips when she sucks at his neck is almost pornographic, appalled at how quick she found his spot.

Not as quick as you had, however — because the first time Shawn and you had gone to town was a day that he would never forget. You had him reeling and begging under you with just your fingers and mouth, placing your fingers against his chest to push him back down every time he got a little too excited. He had never been happier to lose control than in that moment.

Fuck, he thinks as his date's hand palms at his crotch, I really shouldn't be thinking about my ex right now.

Right now? His mind answers almost instantly, Pretty hard when you're literally always thinking about her, right?

He's so lost in his thoughts and her touch that he doesn't hear the door to the bedroom opening, or even notice the light that streams into the room from the corridor outside. However, when a voice exclaims, "Jesus fuck, Shawn!"

His eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim lighting of the room as he tries to figure out who it was that shouted at him, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that it's just Geoff. Not you. Thank fucking God for that. He rubs lazily at his face, turning away from the door, but Geoff isn't having any of it. Asking his date to please leave, he slams the door shut behind her, storming over to Shawn.

"What the fuck, dude?!"

"What?" Comes Shawn's annoyed mumble, "Jealous you aren't getting any?"

"How much have you had to drink?" He grabs Shawn's chin, inspecting his eyes to see just how red they are for him to pull some dumb shit like this. When he sees that he's not even close to being as drunk as Geoff first assumed him to be, he steps away. Scoffing in disgust, he continues, "You were going to have sex on your ex's bed? What is wrong with you?"

"I thought it was the guest bedroom."

"No the fuck you didn't, Shawn," He's pushing a hand through his hair, fingers clenching around his cup in anger, "You're still not satisfied with what you did? Wanna break her heart even further?"

"What the fuck are you talking about? It was a mutual breakup."

"Was it, though? Or were you just as self-centred then and didn't give a single shit about what she did or did not say?"

"Shut the fuck up, Geoff," Shawn gets up, pushing his friend away, but Geoff's fingers are curling around his arm before he can storm off.

"No, you listen to me. I've had enough of your bullshit. You're my brother, man, but she's more than a sister to me. It hurts me to see her hurting, and if you can't behave around her, just stop showing up. She's been through enough already. Can you imagine her reaction if she was the one who had walked in on you? It would've killed her, Shawn."

"I don't— what are you talking about? We're over. We've both moved on."

Geoff's scoff is painfully mocking, and Shawn is narrowing his eyes in anger, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Move on? It's almost sad how hung up on each other you guys are. You can't stop writing songs about her, and she can't stop—" Geoff trails off, catching himself before he can let anything spill. You would absolutely annihilate him, and that's not something he wants.

"What?" Shawn spits, "She can't what?"

"It doesn't matter," He mutters through grit teeth, "If you can man the fuck up and apologise for all the shit you've pulled on her, great. If you can't and want to continue being an ass so you can cash in your cheques, fucking fine by me. Just stop coming over when she's around. I didn't take taekwondo for nothing."

"You're not seriously threatening me."

"Try me."

"Fuck you, Geoff. You don't know jackshit about what happened between us."

"Yeah? Let me summarise, then. You got over her, you dumped her. Don't you dare make it sound any deeper than that," Shawn opens his mouth to protest, but Geoff isn't done yet, "And then you proceeded to make an entire album about your love, something so volatile and so private, and released it without her consent. She could've sued you for defamation, but she didn't. Do you know why?"

Shawn shakes his head, bottom lip latched between his teeth. There's so many thoughts running through his head that he doesn't even have the energy or the mental faculties to give his friend any attitude anymore. After the breakup, the both of you had managed to convince your friends that it was long coming, mutual, and amicable. Shawn had wanted it to be that way because he didn't want to be painted as a douche for springing something so sudden on you, and you had gone along with it because...well, he had no idea why. Maybe he should've asked.

"Because she's still in love with you, you fucking jerk. And it isn't my place to tell you this, but if it keeps you away from her, then so be it.You got over her, Shawn, but you didn't give her any time to ease out of it. You kept showing up with new girls every time, kept releasing these...these PG-13 sex tapes. The album was probably the final blow. With everything you did, her condition worsened, and we all saw it. We thought you did too, dude, because it was so painfully obvious."

There's a sour taste in Shawn's mouth, like the acidic tinge that puking leaves in your mouth. He's pretty sure he's completely sober now, but his mind keeps spinning, to the point where he has to sit down to steady himself.

"What have I done, Geoff?"

"I put up with this for as long as I possibly could, but it's not funny anymore. If not for her, please— for me, stop what you're doing. No amount of fame and money is worth the pain you put her through."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Shawn rubs at his face, trying to slap some reality back into him. He didn't break up with you because he got over you. He broke up with you because he was sure he never would. It took him a while to realise how toxic your relationship was getting for him, with no fault of your own. He had fallen and sunken so deep that if you had asked him to throw himself in front of a moving car, he would've done it, no questions asked. To the point where he was so dependant on you that it physically hurt him to leave you. Where he was so used to you helping him through his attacks that one without you make him felt like he was going to die.

His mom had called him stupid, told him that he had let the best thing in his life go because he couldn't commit. But Shawn knew love, and love wasn't supposed to be so scary. He cried because that was the most difficult thing he had done in his life, to date. Not even releasing a completely different genre of album, not knowing if anyone would enjoy listening to something so raw, had made him shiver so bad.

The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He cared about nothing more than you. The album was a desperate cry for help, him putting out into the world just how much he needed you, as a friend or otherwise. Instead of forgiving him, you chose to distance yourself from him. In hurting you, he had completely broken himself. That's what they say, isn't it; play with fire, and you're bound to get burnt.

"Just— take it easy, man," Geoff claps a hand down on Shawn's shoulder, "The situation sucks over all, don't make it harder than it has to be. Also," He opens Shawn's palm, dropping your lost earring into his hand, "Put this back, 'kay? I don't know where it goes. l'll meet you outside."

Shawn nods solemnly, waiting until he hears Geoff's footsteps fade and the door click shut after him. Forcing himself to breathe, Shawn manoeuvres around your room, suddenly overwhelmed with the memories that surrounded his time there. The self-care nights, the pillow fights, the cuddling. The I love yous. He gulps, trying to see as little as possible of his favourite place in the world, pulling open a drawer in your vanity. Carefully dropping the earring on a glass tray, he moves it around a bit to make it easier for you to find it if you were looking for it.

Just as he's about to close the drawer, something catches his eye, causing him to pull the drawer open a little farther to inspect. Nestled behind one of your divider trays is a simple, tiny, royal blue suede box. Shawn's eyebrows furrow — He had never seen that before, had he? It could only hold a ring, he was a pretty sure, and he finds himself reaching towards the box before his conscience can stop him. He turns the small cuboid in his fingers, illuminated by the soft light mounted atop your vanity. Dried water drops stain the otherwise smooth surface, and his lips part in realisation not long after. That's not water, is it?

Deciding not to mull too long, he flicks the box open. Immediately, he desperately wishes he hadn't, because he feels his breath catch in his throat. Sitting inside the box is the most beautiful ring he's probably ever seen, silver and glinting in pride. As he brings it up to his face to inspect it better, he notices the strinking resemblance it has to his own ring, the one he had bought in Tokyo and never taken off after. There's two feathers interlinked together, just like on his ring, but there's a third, more intricate one binding the other two together in a perfect knot. He doesn't know what to make of it, doesn't know why he found it in your drawer, so he stands there. Twisting the ring in his finger, trying to convince himself that it has nothing to do with him.

And then the light catches the inscription on the inside of the band, and Shawn steps closer to the table to see better, eyes narrowed and nose scrunched in concentration.

120915 to forever, I'll love you.

12th September 2015 — Shawn doesn't even need to rack his brain to remember that that was the day you had first told him that you loved him. You were both strolling through the park, laughing about the fact that were people in the world who bit their ice creams, when you had stopped him midstep. Leaned in, kissed his nose, and told him that you loved him. The blush that coloured the both of your faces after was the most fiery shade of red that Shawn had seen. 120915; the last track on his album.

Shawn's mind is immediately thrown into a frenzy. He would be an idiot if he tries to deny the fact that the ring in his hand is most certainly an engagement band, because it looks too expensive to be a promise ring and the two of you had already exchanged your promise rings a year back. But when, how, and why? Why is there an engagement ring so obviously designed for Shawn just sitting in your drawer? Why are there tear stains on the box? Why does the forever looked like it had been scratched at?

Slamming the drawer shut, he all but stumbles out of the bedroom, making a beeline towards your kitchen. If his date sees him or any of your friends notice his panicked state, they choose not to comment on it, distancing themselves from the distressed boy. Slowly but surely, each of them trickle out as Shawn digs through your kitchen cabinet, looking for a file he knows would answer all his questions. When Geoff is the only one left, he contemplates staying. He owes you that much — not leaving you alone with an ex that you're still head over heels for, but he decides against it. You deserve the closure. The both of you deserve and need the closure, and if it means leaving you to deal with your vices, then he is ready to make the sacrifice.

Shawn doesn't notice a single thing around him, all his attention focused on the binders sprawled across him on the island. Carefully thumbing through the files, he ticks off the months in his head — July, August, September, October, November. Immediately flipping to the month of November, he pulls out all the receipts you had so carefully filed and spreads them in front of him. Wild eyes flying across the documents in hopes of finding what he's looking for.

And not long after, he does. A tiny, barely noticeable piece of paper, labelled Bijoux, avec Amour — Jewellery, with Love — printed on the top in cursive. He swears his heart plummets to the very core of the earth when he sees the date on the bill: 7th November 2018.

Not even two weeks before he left you.

His mouth dries out, and he has trouble inhaling. Falling to his knees, Shawn stares between the box and the receipt, feeling his body shake with sudden, overwhelming fatigue. His head feels heavy, like it's been bashed against a stone and left wide open, waiting to be stitched up. His breaths are coming out exaggerated, wild, making it seem like he's just run a marathon. He has, though, hasn't he? He's raced against time. Against your love for him. And Jesus Christ has he lost.

It doesn't take a genius to join the dots with all the hints laid out right in front of him — literally. You were going to ask him to marry you, and he had taken that hope, balled it up, and spat it back into your face. Maybe he should've had another track on his album, a track about how much of an idiot he had been. He would've titled it I'm Worse Than a Fucking Munchurian Ball.

You expect chaos when you return, because really, what good can a bunch of drunk adults get up to? And chaos you get, but definitely not the kind you had anticipated. At first you're confused to see your house empty, no signs of life anywhere. You weren't gone for that long, were you? And then your attention pans to the kitchen, and suddenly you're living that day again. Shawn staring back at you, teary eyed, hands in fists, and you helplessy trying to maintain his gaze.

You immediately start assumed the worse. He's hurt, he had an anxiety attack, his date did something. When you rush towards him, however, dropping the bags in your hands and falling to your knees, you see what you had never, ever wanted to see. His ring — in his hand. He's holding it up to you, so close to your face that you have to lean back to get a better look. Your hands are balling into fists at your sides, stomach twisting into knots. When your gaze falls to the bills strewn on the counter, you know you're done for. Shawn knows. He knows everything.

Fuck.

"Shawn," You try to keep your voice as level as possible, but it inevitably starts breaking, "Where did you find that?"

"You wanted to marry me," Shawn's voice is monotonous, his eyes glazed over. He can barely meet your eyes, gaze focused behind you instead, "You wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. And I.... I fucking dumped you."

You have seen Shawn cry before. Seen him breakdown before. Never, ever had he sounded as defeated as he does right now, like the very life had been sucked out of him, like it was paining him to utter mere words.

Exactly how you had felt all this while.

"Shawn..."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"This," he wags the ring in your face, sniffling loudly, "Was this with you when I broke up with you?"

You nod, feeling your heart pull at the sight of him so... so distressed, so lost. You can feel tears of your own starting to form, but you try pushing them back. This time, however, it doesn't work. They start flowing down your face like fireworks on the 4th of July; loud, uninterrupted, and seemingly with no end. You fall limply against the counter, feeling Shawn watch your every move. Wiping beneath your nose with the back of your hand, you manage to choke out, "Yes.. and—and I was so fucking sure you were going to say yes when I asked you. And then you—"

You can't find it in yourself to continue, and Shawn's hands go into his hair, tugging at the roots in utter frustration and helplessness. He had claimed that the both of you had moved on not even an hour ago, and now he can't even find it in himself to laugh at the irony of the situation. Two adults, crying on a kitchen floor. What a fucking joke.

"You should've told me," Shawn mutters through tears, rocking back and forth, "God, if only you had told me— it would've changed everything."

It's your turn to be angry now, and your body shivers as you spit, "Told you so you could laugh at me? Tell your friends about the girl who proposed to you as you were breaking up with her?"

"No! No, you don't get it, do you? I would've said yes. I would've called a priest and married you then and fucking then."

"No," you mutter, shaking your head. Louder, you repeat, "No, you don't get to do this. You don't get to feed me these lies and these Would Haves and What Ifs!" Pushing against his chest, you sob harder, "You didn't get to leave me! But you did. You left me when I was so in love with you that I could see nothing else. Fuck you, Shawn. Fuck you for leaving me."

"Slap me."

"Shut up."

He grabs your hand, placing it against his wet cheek, all but begging you, "Please, slap me. Punch me. I fucking deserve it."

You pull your hand away, cradling it to your chest, as if his touch burns you, "I don't want to fucking slap you! It won't fix anything."

"What— what will fix everything?" Shawn's hiccuping now, eyes red from his tears, "What can I do to go back? What will it take for you to forgive me?"

"I don't know, Shawn," You reply between fits, shaking your head, "I don't know if you can fix this."

"I'll do anything," Shawn whispers, "I'll do anything to be able to love you again. I'll marry you, for fuck's sake. I'm not the same without you," He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head, "I won't ever be the same. You're like... this part of me that I won't ever get back. Life's been a living hell without you. Don't you feel it too?"

You can feel your determination frailing, weakening, but you're not giving into him again. You're never giving into the pain that is Shawn ever again, so you wipe your tears away, putting your brave face on, "I don't. I really don't. I agreed with you on something I shouldn't have once already, Shawn. I'm not doing it ever again. As a wise man once told me, I don't deserve that. If a constant rotation of girls and a rocket to fame are a living hell for you," You inhale audibly, convincing yourself that this is where it ends. There's no going back from here. "Then I wish you the best of luck. But you can't fix this. Not now, not ever."

"But—," He's pushing himself up, making his way towards you, and you cower away. Something breaks inside the both of you, something so delicate that it can't ever be put back. Not by each other, and certainly not by someone else. Shawn's head drops, and you can almost feel the words emanating off his self before he even speaks, each word laced with pleading, "I love you. Please."

Your tears haven't stopped still, and they probably never will, but you can't let yourself go through the same thing again. No matter how much you love him, no matter how hard he tries to convince you that he loves you too, you know for a fact that the gaps between the two of you couldn't be a bridged by a couple of sorrys and a kiss. It would require something much more sacrificial, like jumping headfirst into the emptiness and hoping, praying that you could steady yourself along the way. You would rather head towards uncertainty than doomed failure.

"I'm sorry, Shawn. You should've thought about that before striking the match."

TAGLIST: @babywhenithinkaboutyou @catalinamgarcia @shawnm521 @holybrandt @fuckneymar @brenda-sucks @livelifesosily @yourwonderbelle @astromendes @ashwarren32 @grunge-pun-kat @truly-l @sunflowerinthefield

#shawn #imagine #mendes #shawnmendes #blurb #angst #fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagine #breakup #burned out

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writsgrimmyblog · 6 years

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Rec List #1 Theme: 2018 Favourites

One of my fandom resolutions is to rec more in 2019. I’m going to post rec lists for some of my favourite Nick fics divided up by theme/content/ship or whatever I fancy throughout the year. It seems fitting that my first rec post of 2019 should be my favourite Nick Fics of 2018. If you’re interested in my Harry Potter themed recs, you can find them over on my other blog @writcraft under the tag #writ recs where I’m undertaking the same initiative.

This is by no means an exhaustive list - I’m limiting myself to ten recs per list and it is very difficult, I could have recced many more. I’ve read and enjoyed a whole raft of terrific stories and this rec list is simply based on my personal tastes which may not be everybody else’s cuppa. Please heed the content warnings the author has flagged on AO3 in each case, none of my recs include the content tags.

#1. Ten Track Sophomore Album by @junkshop-disco

Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles | 4,228

Nick has always lived in noise, been the cause of a lot of it, but one day a boy writes him into a pop song and the whole world dissolves into static.

It doesn’t happen like that, not that easy, not that linear, but that’s the heart of it, the soul, if these things have such a thing.

My Rec: The Nick fic of 2018 is undoubtedly the final installment of junkshop-disco’s incredible Doodle of a Surface Life but that has quite rightly garnered so many recs by now if any Gryles reader hasn’t yet indulged, run, quick, what are you waiting for? I love DOASL with all of my heart, but I’m also a sucker for angst and I wanted to highlight this equally terrific fic in my rec list. The structure of this story, in which Nick loses his ability to hear music, is so cleverly done. It’s a very skilled writer that can create an entire fic around sound and make it come alive, and junkshop-disco manages it brilliantly. The fic reads like music, even as it describes the absence of it and it’s a stunning piece of writing. If you like your Gryles contemplative and angsty with confident, lyrical prose, this is the one for you. Junkshop-disco has such a terrific way with words I highly recommend reading all the works by this author. Every single one. But when you do make sure you take a moment to stop by this beautiful story and leave it all the love it deserves.

#2. Tell Me It’s The Strongest Shape by @louandhazaf

Nick Grimshaw/Elgar Johnson/Louis Tomlinson | 73,224

Nick and Elgar have it all. They’re famous, successful, and engaged to be married—and sometimes they play with others.

When uni student Louis gets street cast by Elgar for a GQ photoshoot, he's drawn into Nick and Elgar’s complicated relationship.

They've always invited mates into their bed. It doesn’t ever mean anything. Until… it does.

My Rec: This is such a great exploration of polyamory and the complexities of open relationships, and the author took a great deal of time developing the relationships between the characters and really working on highlighting some of those difficulties. I tend to gravitate towards fanfic where I care deeply about the characters, and although Elgar seems terrific I don’t have the same fannish relationship to him as I do to Nick and Louis so I was curious to know how I would respond to this fic. Basically, the author killed it. I felt such a deep investment in Elgar, Nick and Louis throughout and everything just flew by as I was reading. It’s also really fucking hot. Like, REALLY. Brilliantly done. I loved it.

#3. Let The Boys All Sing And The Boys All Shout For Tomorrow by @lunarrua

Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles | 18,429

It's February 1988. Thatcher is in power. There's a new drug sweeping through the clubbing scene. In Manchester, it's the eve of a major protest and a new musical movement. And when Nick finds Harry looking lost outside his favourite chip shop, it's the start of a weekend that will leave an indelible mark on both their lives.

My Rec: I saw the summary for this fic and actually yelled at my screen when it popped into my inbox. Gryles, set in Manchester in the 80s? Hell yes. The fic itself certainly didn’t disappoint, it’s absolutely beautiful. The author writes a well-researched, confident piece and the result is stunning. The atmosphere of the whole story is captivating and you can feel yourself transported to the heady days before the Manchester music scene shifted, the anxieties of the AIDS crisis and the fragility of the relationships formed during that period. The Harry of this fic has a transient quality which evokes the nostalgic reflection on a different time in our not so distant past. A real triumph. I loved this story with my whole heart.

#4. Séjour by @silveredsound

Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson | 6,288

It is so quiet, which should be conducive to concentration, but Nick is bored and listless and lonely. He’s been there for two days and wants to know where the helpful lady is who’ll deliver him a gamine but takes-no-shit housekeeper who he can fall in love with without words. Words are not his friend.

“Where is my Love Actually moment?” he asks the ceramic kitchen sink as he pokes holes in the cover of one of the M&S ready meals he brought over with him.

«≠»

Nick’s got writer's block. Louis is a master of distraction.

My Rec: I’ve loved a number of stories by Silv this year and I was swinging back and forth between this and others, but there’s something about this little fic that has wormed its way into my heart and has taken hold so this is the one I’m choosing. As I said in my earlier reblog rec, this has such lush, evocative prose it perfectly captures the sense of a fleeting summer. There’s a seductive quietness to it, and a lovely unfolding of the story through snippets of tasting notes left by Louis on bottles of wine and Nick feeling a little bit lost and searching for words as he struggles with writer’s block. Two boys find one another in the warmth of a sleepy French town and it’s beautiful. Really wonderfully done.

#5. Fists & Flowers ‘Verse by @jiksax

Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles | 1,613 (Make It Worse) and 2,322 (I’ll Do What You Like (If You Stay The Night)

He’s looking at Nick with that soft, terrible look in his eyes, the look that tells Nick the two of them are probably something.

My Rec: If anyone other than Jiksa had told me they were planning an angsty fisting fic series I would have been like umm really? But of course, it’s Jiksa, so naturally I found myself sobbing at the raw, devastating intensity of the story. Jiksa deftly weaves the intensity of the physical act itself into the emotional tumult of Harry and Nick’s relationship in a way that’s incredibly beautiful. A bold, brave, superb piece of hot, confident writing, rich with emotional complexity. Gorgeous.

#6. Constantly on the Cusp by @shiftylinguini

Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson | 6169

It’s 5 in the morning, and Nick’s got an alarm going off, an unexpected bed full of pop star, and a nation to wake up.

It’s far too fucking early for this.

My Rec: UNFFFFF. I love Shifty’s writing. Like, an obsessive amount. I was so thrilled when Shifty started writing Tomlinshaw I didn’t know quite what to do with myself. It’s actually hard to believe this was Shifty’s first Tomlinshaw, because everything about the fic felt like they have been writing them for years. Louis is sleepy, horny and pissed off, Nick is awake, horny and wondering what it all means, and together they have this scorching hot, sexy moment. Nick’s internal monologue gives us so much insight into their relationship and the fic offers a lovely, warm, hopeful moment at the end. Fantastically written and a sexy delight from start to finish. Loved it!

#7. this cookie’s baking by @disgruntledkittenface

Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles (Genderswap Femslash) | 8,148

Harry’s eyes flicker between Nick’s eyes and lips. “I just want to be your–”

“Baby,” Nick says softly, cupping Harry’s jaw, “you already are.”

Nick and Harry have a long-overdue conversation.

My Rec: This was the first genderswap Gryles fic I have read and I absolutely loved it. The relationship between Nick and Harry feels so perfectly them and there’s a lovely warmth to the whole story. It’s light and funny but also contains moments of real emotional depth and those first time explorations and the hesitancy of admitting to being something more than friends is handled in such a terrific way. It’s a gorgeous story with wonderful writing and I loved every minute of reading it.

#8. let’s make some new rules by @camiii

Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson | 12,743

A coffee shop, a Christmas party & a fake date to make sure no one gets laid at the end of the night.

My Rec: This was such an enjoyable read. I love camiii’s Tomlinshaw, and seeing this pop up was a wonderful surprise. Barista Louis agrees to be Nick’s fake boyfriend as he pines over an ex that definitely isn’t worth his time, and they become closer in the process. The pace of the story is wonderful, the flirting is brilliant and despite some misunderstandings and Nick’s no good ex trying to fuck things up, the ending is warm and hopeful. A lovely story, full of festive cheer. Thoroughly enjoyable.

#9. I’ll be seeing you by @daretomarvel / renlyne

Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles | 11,481

It’s 2028, and Nick’s bought a house.

My Rec: I love Ren’s writing and this Notebook inspired Gryles is a beautiful treat of a story, in which Nick starts buying little bits for his dream house. It’s hard to believe this story is just over 11,000 words because the world the author creates is so rich, detailed, layered and complex. The relationship between Nick and Harry has all of these gorgeous details and nuggets of history as it grows and develops, seedling-like, into something that might just be everything they’ve both been searching for. It’s a warm, hopeful, beautiful story but as it’s Ren, it manages to still tug at the heartstrings in the best kind of way. I read this again as I was putting my rec list together and did so with a lump in my throat, full of feels for the Nick and Harry of Ren’s universe. Gorgeous writing with bags of emotional intensity. I loved it.

#10. All I’ve ever had are love songs by @candybarrnerd / icarusinflight

Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson | 21,688

Things are finally coming together for Nick.

Nick is the DJ of his uni's radio stations, and he passively aggressively dedicates a song to Louis.

My Rec: Icarusinflight is another author who was already on my periphery from Harry Potter fandom who wrote their first Tomlinshaw fic this year and I was so thrilled to see them writing in this fandom and I’m very excited about their upcoming 2019 projects which also includes fics featuring the 1D boys in various ship combos. I love uni AUs and I hadn't read one for a while, so this was such a treat. I loved how Louis is sharp, sassy and confident but with niggling insecurities. Harry was so affectionately humorous in this story and Nick’s voice is wonderful. This is a really well-paced, enjoyable story with a hot af first kiss that deserves a mention all of its own. The music references, the tea and the cameos from various 1D members are all terrific and the writing is brilliant. Can’t wait for more from this author this year.

Bonus Rec: I was meant to limit this to just 10 recs but I also wanted to give a quick shout out to @nightwideopen. I’ve said this in previous rec lists before, but I am constantly impressed by the quality of @nightwideopen‘s writing and the way they explore things such as asexuality and gender dysphoria which can be harder to find in a relatively small fandom. I’d particularly rec so far (it’s alright) and i’ve been thinking lots about your mouth from this year, both Tomlinshaw.

#recs #writ recs #gryles #tomlinshaw #rec list 1

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