I hope this isn't too weird, but I wanted to announce that I just posted the final chapter of my multi-chapter Narry fic on Ao3. Now, I know you mostly post Larry on here, but every now and then a Narry fic sneaks in (I found some of my favourites on here btw!!!), so I just thought I'd let you know. Thanks for your hard work with the fic-recs, we appreciate it sooo much! This fandom is so wonderful ♡
Hi!! Not weird at all! I am a lover of rare pairs, so I'm absolutely thrilled to promote rare pairs here, too! I reblogged the cover art link I found in the fic, too, and I'll share it to my rare pair gc!
Fly Away (breakaway) by mikeysgerard / @mikeysgerard
[M, 50k, Niall/Harry]
...And there, in Doolin, County Clare in Ireland, was where his new life should begin.
Or: The one where Harry runs away from his tragic past, and Niall saves him, in any way a person can be saved.
i'm rereading all the time before i knew you because i'm planning to work on the final chapter and i need to get myself back in it and just all around refresh my memory. and i thought i'd share some little fun facts!
elora is a shameless self-insert. i am a pastry chef and at one point dreamed of opening my own bakery/cafe. i'd even written up a business plan. the name of said bakery/cafe? black treacle. elora is the name i'd planned to give my first daughter, should i have had a daughter, back when i still thought i wanted to have children.
harry's (and eventually niall's) cat butterscotch was a copy-and-paste of my cat. butterscotch sadly passed this past october but she was a beautiful tortoiseshell calico.
elora's sister abby is just my sister. my sister abby is not a baker so that's been tweaked. their cousins kate and mack are my real-life cousins kate and mackenzie. i mention their grandmother patty who acts as a surrogate grandmother to "the lads." my grandma's name is pat and will be anyone's grandma.
although a full layout of harry and niall's apartment is never given in complete detail, i based it entirely on the apartment where my sister lived for a couple years before she and her now-husband moved in together.
i have so many others but i don't want this post to be wicked long. if anyone out there is interested in hearing more, send me a message! it's kind of a fun way to get me back into this!
(i've decided to cut back on my phone screen time and have set limits. since doing that, i've found i have a lot more free time. i'm on my usual two month winter break from work and even with reading two 400 page books a week, planning my dessert menus for the upcoming year, reading multiple cookbooks, and doing a deep clean on my apartment, i still find myself with lots of free time. that says a lot about how much time i waste on my phone... it has also inspired me to start writing this last chapter. i'm a little scared if i'm being 100% honest.)
to anyone who has ever read all the time before i knew you, i thought i would let you know that the real-life butterscotch, who was not so much the inspiration but actually a copy-and-paste for harry’s (and eventually niall’s) kitty, passed away in october. she was my kitty for over 15 years, from the time she was born until i found her peacefully asleep in my home. she still is my kitty and i’m happy that i made the decision to immortalise her in that fic; i almost named her olivia but called her butterscotch because i knew it would be easier to write the scenes where harry talks to her if she were my kitty.
(i have said this a million and one times but i am planning to finish that fic over my winter break this coming jan/feb. we’ll see what happens but butterscotch has inspired me to see her through to the end.)
OOOOOO these are fun!!! can i have "I don't know what happened" with narry if you're vibing with it. romantic or platonic, whichever feels best! -hazel
FUCK YEAH WRITING SOME NARRY. wait is this my narry debut? oh my god it kind of is. SO EXCITING!!! hope you like it hazel!!!!!
read here on ao3
-
For the first thirty seconds of Niall’s day, everything is wonderful. He wakes up on his own, eyes slowly opening to a room bright with early morning sun, unexpectedly mild for 8 a.m. in February. Muffled gusts of wind blow around out his dorm window. It’s shaping up to be a nice day.
Groggily, he reaches for his phone.
8:56 a.m.
He’s shooting up and out of bed before his brain has time to catch up.
“Fuck!” he says loudly, then grimaces. Louis is still asleep and thankfully doesn’t react to this outburst. Eight fifty-six. How is it almost nine? His alarm is supposed to wake him at eight. Niall keeps up a steady stream of muttered expletives as he practically trips over his own feet getting dressed, and he only barely remembers to grab his notebook and stuff it in his rucksack before racing out the door.
Shit, he’s already late. So very, very late. It’s nine o’clock on the dot when Niall calls the lift. Powerless to do anything except wait for it to arrive, he checks his messages. A new one arrives just as he unlocks his phone.
harry: are you coming to class???
niall: ON MY WAY RIGHT NOW . OVERSLEPT
harry: 😂😂😂 run forrest run!
The lift arrives. Niall sighs and puts his phone back in his pocket.
Running across campus is one of the most undignified things a person can do, in Niall’s opinion. Right up there with running to catch a train. It’s obvious to every person he passes that he’s late for something; Niall would almost prefer to be later than he already is just to avoid having to run, but he’s not that much of an idiot.
On a good day, Niall leaves the dorm by 8:30, grabs a muffin from the dining hall, and is in the classroom five minutes to nine. Today he’ll have to starve. There’s no time for food. Even running (or speed-walking), Winston Hall is a good ten minutes from his dorm. Niall is panting by the time he stumbles through the double doors. On the bright side, he’s so flushed that the cold air actually feels kind of nice.
When he quietly slips through the door of Winston 203 at 9:12, Steve — their enigmatic geology professor — shoots him a look. He’s mid-lecture, thankfully, which saves Niall from being chastised, so at least there’s that in the way of small mercies. Niall makes an apologetic face and climbs to the back of the lecture hall to take his seat beside Harry.
“Hey,” Harry whispers as he sits. “You overslept?”
“I don’t know what happened,” Niall whispers back. “I must have forgotten to set my alarm.”
“Classic,” Harry replies, shaking his head. “Classic Nialler.”
“I am,” Niall says, and then inhales to really emphasise his point, “so out of breath. Fuckin’ hell.”
“You really ran the whole way?”
Niall nods. He digs through his backpack and pulls out his notebook and a pencil. “I’m dying, mate. I can’t breathe.”
“You need to get fit, lad,” Harry says, amiably patting Niall’s shoulder.
Niall snorts. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“I’m fit!”
Niall gives him a glance. “In a way.”
“Perv,” Harry says with a grin.
“What’d I miss?” Niall asks, flipping to a blank page.
Harry shrugs. “No idea.”
A glance at Harry’s notebook page confirms: he’s been doodling a comic involving various snack foods.
“You’re going to fail this class, you know,” Niall says. He writes the date at the top of his notebook page and starts to copy down the slide on the projector.
“Says the one who was fifteen minutes late to class.”
“Twelve. And that’s pretty impressive considering I woke up at 8:56.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Maybe you could turn in your comics in place of a final,” Niall says. “You’ll fail anyway, but at least you’ll give him a laugh.”
“As if Steve deserves my comics,” Harry says, protectively curling his arms around his notebook. “As if he’s earned the right to enjoy the Pretzel King and his Banana Queen.”
“The banana is the queen?”
“Yeah, of this kitchen,” Harry says. “Every kitchen has a king and a queen. This one is Pretzel and Banana. But as you can see, the Freddos are staging a coup.”
“Ah, I’m on the side of the Freddos,” Niall says. “I’ll take a Freddo over a Banana any day.”
“That’s a bit sexist,” says Harry.
“Banana’s not even a snack!”
“Of course it’s a snack, you uncultured shit!”
Niall snickers. The slide changes as he’s halfway through writing the last bullet point and he blinks helplessly at his unfinished sentence.
“Why do I even bother taking notes,” he sighs.
“I’ve wondered the very same thing,” Harry agrees. “The slides are all online.”
“I know, I know.”
“Come to the dark side, Nialler,” Harry wheedles. “We have more fun. We’ve got comics.”
Admittedly, it’s tempting. Nothing would make Niall happier than to throw his geology notes into an incinerator.
“Nah, one of us has gotta be responsible,” he says, diligently putting his pencil back to the page. “You’re going to need me to pass this class.”
“That’s true,” Harry says contemplatively. He falls silent, sketching more of his snack uprising comic, while Niall scribbles down the slide’s contents with renewed vigour. Apparently this is the end of their sidebar; the next hour passes without incident. They don’t speak again until Steve has dismissed the class for the day.
“Lemme see it,” Niall says, grabbing Harry’s notebook as the rest of the class begins to pack up their stuff.
“It’s not done,” Harry says, though he makes no move to take his notebook back. It’s a level of trust Niall appreciates. Most people would be under pain of death if they so much as laid a finger on Harry’s notebook. But Niall isn’t most people.
“Is that the Freddo?”
“Yeah, his name’s Kyle,” Harry deadpans.
Niall laughs. “His name’s Kyle the Freddo?”
“What, you’d have gone Fred? Freddie?” Harry seems offended. “Bit obvious, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, fair enough.” Niall chuckles at the comic. “So how are the king and queen of each kitchen decided? Is it like, most popular snack?”
Harry shrugs. “Maybe, yeah."
“Who d’you reckon are king and queen of your kitchen?”
“Oh, my kitchen’s not a monarchy,” Harry says seriously. “It’s a democracy. I’m a man of the people, Niall.”
“Mine’s a tyranny,” Niall says. In unison, they grab their rucksacks and make their way to the door of the classroom. “Run by the chocolate ice cream.”
“You don’t even have a kitchen.”
“I mean my hypothetical kitchen.” He waves a hand through the air. “If I had one, it’d be run by the chocolate ice cream.”
“You could have a democratic kitchen like me.”
“Oh, definitely not. Democracy is a myth. Good luck with that, though.” They spill out into the hall with their classmates and head down the stairs. “Besides, you’re full of shit calling your kitchen a democracy. Like you don’t favour one or two snacks over all the others.”
“But the favourite switches around,” Harry points out. “Every snack has an equal opportunity to be the favourite snack of the week.”
“Yeah? When’s the last time you cleaned out your freezer?”
Harry shoulders him. “Alright, shut up, I don’t need you judging me on how I keep my kitchen.”
“I’m only teasing, only joking. I know half that shit is Zayn’s.”
“It’s mostly Zayn’s. I’m going to start eating it soon, honestly, I doubt he’ll even notice. We’ve had Bagel Bites in there for, like, three months now.”
“Three months?” Niall gapes. “You can’t eat those, there’s no way they’re not expired.”
“But they’ve been in the freezer, Niall! The whole point is you leave them in the freezer until you’re ready to eat them.”
Niall shakes his head. “Just at least check the date before you eat them, please? And don’t eat them if they’re expired.”
“If they’re expired, I’m making them anyway and feeding them to Zayn,” Harry grouses good-naturedly. “Teach him not to leave his food in the freezer for three months.”
Niall pats Harry’s shoulder. “Good plan.”
The weather has warmed up since Niall’s mad dash to get to class; it’s one of the nicer days they’ve seen this month as he and Harry stroll out of Winston towards the dining hall. Niall’s famished, and all this talk of food hasn’t helped. Right now he’d kill for an expired Bagel Bite.
“So seriously,” he says, following Harry through the dining hall doors. “Have you ever thought about, I dunno, submitting your comics someplace? A Lit Mag or something?”
“They’re not literature,” Harry says.
“I don’t think the Lit Mag is just for literature.”
“It’s in the name, mate. Literary Magazine.”
“I know, but I think they take art as well.”
“Yeah, but not silly comics about snack foods.”
“Why not? And anyway, how would you know? Have you ever read a Lit Mag?”
“No, which is another reason I can’t submit to one,” Harry says, unperturbed. “How can I ask them to support my work if I don’t support theirs?”
“Oh, come on. I dare you to submit that one you’re doing. Finish it and send it in.”
Harry wrinkles his nose. “Don’t think so.”
Niall sighs. “You’re depriving the world of unique entertainment.”
“Believe me,” Harry says, “the world doesn’t need any more entertainment. We’re overloaded with entertainment.”
“But not your entertainment.”
“Give it a rest, Niall. I’m not sending the comics anywhere.” Harry smiles, most likely to reassure Niall that he’s not actually pissed, and adds, “This way I can curate an exclusive viewership. You’re part of an elite group of people who have actually seen my comics.”
“Lucky me,” Niall says, completely sincere. “I’m the president of the elite group, as a matter of fact.”
“There’s no president. It’s a democracy.”
Niall laughs and links his arm with Harry’s. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
I am not sure how active this tag is anymore. But I am in search of a fanfiction on AO3 I habe read ages ago. I don’t remember the name or author or even when. I just remember is was Niall/Harry. There was an original female character that the story was in her point of view. They all went to uni, she was in love with Harry (like obsessed). I know in the end Niall and Harry get married, I can’t remember if she kills herself or not. But you know the fanfiction, please help! It’s bothering me not remembering! I appreciate it!
“Listen, H, I like Bake Off as much as the next guy, but I’m ready for a break from biscuits and custard, aren’t you?”
Harry pouts, but nods. “But do you feel well enough–”
“It’s not that much more strenuous than watching TV,” Niall points out. “But if I get tired, we’ll just go nap in our nest.”
Harry chokes on the spoonful of soup he was swallowing, but Niall doesn’t seem to realize the slip.
“You okay?”
Harry splutters a cough but nods as he starts to catch his breath. “Great. I’m great.”
Our nest. Maybe Niall’s omega is getting confused too. Or maybe he noticed that the nest makes Harry wistful for one of his own. If he’s learned anything about Niall over the past few days, it’s how perceptive he is. It’s a double-edged sword, being seen for who he really is like this. On the one hand, Niall doesn’t judge him for not being the prototypical alpha and that makes him feel safe. But on the other hand, it makes Harry think about things he’s gotten very good at not thinking about. And he’s not used to letting himself feel this vulnerable. It’s kind of exhausting, and Harry will be ready for a nap (in Niall’s nest) when the time comes.
-from a little tenderness by disgruntledkittenface @disgruntledkittenface
