already did two, but the one i didn’t:49) Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word “heart.”

okay i’m going to do this really quickly and obviously these answers might change depending on my mood. ahhaa okay sorry for doing that disclaimer it’s not like you were making me write it in blood. anyway:

song: Midnight Train to Georgia by Gladys Knight and the Pips

book: Emma by Jane Austen

from this meme 

Thank you for playing. <3 <3 

20. Any advice for young writers/advice you wish someone would have given you early on?

Two things that help me a lot. 

One: Create characters with depth. Don’t simply rely on the fanon sketch that we all know and love. I really love this character worksheet.  I find stories move along so much better when your characters are complex people with histories who want to do things. 

Two: Plan the story out scene by scene. For me this helps by giving me an end to aim for - because heaven knows I have a finishing things problem- and by preventing any blocks because I just don’t know what’s going to happen next. 

40. Do you look up to any of your writer buddies?

God, yes! So many of them. I look up to those that publish things week after week, with incredible consistency. I look up to those that take the time to beta and cheerlead for others. I look up to those time magicians who have children and jobs and healthy relationships with their spouse and friends not on the internet and manage to write on top of all that. I look up to those that take big risks, try new things, write stories that might not be widely read or popular, seek out critique, and explore new genres. I really look up to those that take their time and do their research. I look up with those that dig into the editing process, working and reworking things until they’re just right. 

I love my writer friends. <3 <3 <3 

55. How do you manage your time/make time for writing? (do you set aside time to write every day or do you only write when you have a lot of free time?)

I do try to make time for writing every morning. I do best with routine, goals, and accountability. 

Oh FIGHT ME fkmgkmfgkmg @loveloveolivia THIS ENDS NOW. (but also. that does sound fun fgjhfjkhg). 

thank you <3

29: what do you notice first about another person?

Their eyes. I always look if they have eyes I trust and then go from there. Also, the, um, aura? they have around them, really. not that I go look for colours but the kind of atmosphere that they carry with themselves. 

47: which "famous couple" is your favorite?

I... can’t think of anyone? Meghan Markle and Prince Harry? fsdkdsks no honestly, haven’t got a clue. I’m not really all that focused on couples? (that is ironic considering the fandom I am in, yes, I am aware)

48: what's your favorite love song?

Butterfly - Jason Mraz (also: Love Song For No One - John Mayer, which is a bit of a spin on lovesongs yes I know but it’s my favourite ever)

49: have you ever broken someone's heart?

ahahahahhahahaha silke.  i’m laughing a lot. I don’t want to have to do the writing myself, though!!! i want it to be written for me. but okay here’s this:

Louis pressed through the crowd at Lady Malbec’s ball, his eyes searching over top the many heads for signs of a side room he could slip away to.  He normally thrived at events like these, but he’d only arrived in London for the season that very afternoon, and the trip into town had exhausted him.  He needed a reprieve from all the socializing and all the noise. 

It took some skillful dodging and weaving, but at last he escaped the crush, scurrying down a narrow hallway and into a convenient and empty sitting room. He sighed deeply, leaning back against the door as he closed it, and then almost let out a shout when he realized he wasn’t actually alone.  

“Needed to escape the matchmakers, too?” Came a deep, droll voice from the darkened corner of the room.  

Louis gave a short laugh.  As a lowly Baron with passel of sisters and a small estate in the North, he was certainly not a highly sought after commodity.  It was the Duke of Cheshire all the Mamas in the Ton had set their sights on that year.  

Which, it turned out, was exactly who Louis was sharing the room with, he realized, as the man emerged from the shadows. The Duke of Cheshire always lived up to his reputation as a terrible dandy, and tonight was no different, lace spilling from the end of his lavender silk sleeves, his ascot done up just so, breeches tight.   

“Lord Styles,” Louis said, bobbing his head in greeting. 

a long promised three sentence fic. hahaha. three sentences hahaha. 

~ 

Louis can see it, at the end of the aisle, one last box fan sits on the shelf, promising blessed relief from the thick, hot, dead air of his bedroom. Then, just as suddenly as it it appeared, the fan disappears again, blocked by broad shoulders and a familiar head of dark, curly hair. 

“Oh no you don’t,” he calls. “That’s mine.”

Harry doesn’t listen, though, of fucking course. Instead, he tucks the fan under his arm and turns around wearing a shit eating grin. 

Harry probably doesn’t even need the fan. He probably has functional air conditioning at his place, the bastard. 

“Sorry, ‘s mine now. I guess you’ll just have to come home with me so that we can share.”