#sometimes i just like to remind people this show existed for a whole like. four days

[ktmarison]

paramount heathers sentence starters episodes 1-3.

“ i’m a good person. “

“ we are trying for ivy league’s here. "

“ despite the box we check on our college applications, we still all end up worm form in that great corn nut landfill in the sky. ”

“ sometimes a little self hatred is good for the soul. ”

“ we’re young, we’re free, let’s snort adderal, make out, and get slushies. ”

“ i’m not gonna do something just because you dared me to. ”

“ look, as sad as it is, (x) is already gone. what is the point in ruining two more lives? “

“ are we supposed to unfollow her now? ”

“ your presence here has been lovely, as usual, but if you don’t mind, my girlfriend and i would like to start having sexual intercourse now. ”

“ don’t forget to use a condom, son! ”

“ i’m fucking famous. ”

“ this is what we get for trying to save (x)? we should have known. people are so predictable. “

“ i hate all my friends. that doesn’t mean i want them dead. ”

“ i didn’t do anything, and you know it. ”

“ you’re right. i’m sorry. we did something. we killed her, together. ”

“ so you kill once weed and then even bigger weed pops up in it’s place.”

“ we’re better off without any monsters at all. ”

“ the slut table is over there. ”

“ stop being so shallow and think about how your words are hurting me. “

“ i’m sorry, i just think i actually had feelings for you. ”

“ such a shocking turn in popularity, (x). you must be really proud. ”

“ her moment in the sun is giving everyone skin cancer. ”

“ ooh, do i get to peel off another layer that is the onion that is (x)? ”

“ you know you can tell me anything, right? there is absolutely nothing in that deep, dark journal you keep locked away from everyone else that would make me think that every planet and the sun doesn’t revolve around you. ”

“ honestly, i was in a really dark place without you. ”

“ can someone help me? i think i made a mistake. ”

“ i think we finally got through to her. ”

“ why is (x) texting you about blow jobs? ”

“ you used to climb through my window, now you just send me a text that says ‘here’. ”

“ rough day and all. with my best friend’s funeral. ”

“ that would be like sending a dick pic without a water bottle next to it. i need you there, for perspective. ”

“ what we have transcends high school. ”

“ you have the politics of a dorm room poster. ”

“ i want boys to like me. and not just like me, i want them to die for me. ”

“ they say that if you kiss at this bridge that you’ll be married forever. ”

“ i’m jealous every moment i’m not with you. i’m jealous of every breath you inhale, and every drop of rain that gets to fall on your cheek. i’m jealous of every passing car that has the privilege and wonder at how fucking beautiful and perfect you are. ”

“ i need you to say something because i can just keep talking.”

[unluckiestmember]

can I request headcanons of x-men 97 team x reader who is an absolute sweatheart and is just the cutest thing to exist.

Coming right up!

X-Men '97 X Sweetheart! Reader

Characters: Nathan Summers/Cable, Scott Summers/Cyclops, Remy LeBeau/Gambit, Jean Gray, Jubilee, Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto, Morph, Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler, Rogue and Logan/Wolverine.

Warning: Mild Cursing, but overall SFW.

A/N: Can I please get someone to remind me to actually post when I'm supposed to? Anyone? XD

Cable

“Time to get to work, keep up!… You want me to carry you? Heh, say less.”

Oh Nathan, Nathan, Nathan. He tries his best to be as tough and straight to business like his old man. Always a man to try and change the future and fight for the people with a straight face. But as soon as you’re around him, your sunshine energy radiates onto him. You make the freedom fighter have a need to impress you on the field when he’s not showering you in love outside of missions.

What really drew you to him was just how careful you were with his body. How you complimented his eye and stroked his robotic arm with so much care. It has made him really adore the end of the days where particular expeditions took a lot of energy out of you two, resulting in cuddles and sweet nothings. He never understood the whole concept of loving someone like his dad loved his mom, but after meeting you, he finally understood what they had was sacred. What you two had was sacred. Nathan has lost a lot in his life, but he’ll be damned if he loses you.

Cyclops

“Are you alright?! You’re not hurt, are you? I’m not overexaggerating- I’m worrying the right amount!”

Scott can be a pain in the neck during missions. He’s always one to bark out orders and keep a level head on missions as the leader of the X-Men. And if there’s one order that’s always on the top of his list, it’s making sure you are safe. He’s by all means not an overprotective or possessive lover, but he makes it a daily part of his life to always check on his beloved. Whenever you are just being yourself, you can find him staring at you, taking in your cute energy and reciprocating it with his own cute antics like kissing your cheek or giving you gifts when you least expect it.

Are the team a bit jealous of you having Scott’s favoritism? A bit. But hey, they’d rather someone like you have the best of Scott than the worst. Even if that also includes his defensive nature of you along with his jealous antics. He means well. You know it, sometimes you just have to remind him. Whether it be with a simple talk or a passionate kiss. Face it, you keep the leader of the X-Men grounded.

Gambit

“Ah, just the person I was looking for. Is it just me or are you getting more breathtaking every day, mon cher?"

When it comes to you, Remy is bound to flirt twenty four seven just to see that nice shade of pink color on your cute little cheeks. And if he cant succeed in that, he’s bound to have you smitten with his physical hold of your waist or his sincere compliments. He’s quite a charmer, anyone knows that, but with you, he adds another flare to himself; A sweet lover.

Gambit will always make it abundantly clear that you are the cutest person he’s ever met and how he can wager the perfect future with you by his side. Expect this man to shower you with surprise trips away from the mansion, a fresh breakfast almost everyday and a little card show if you are ever upset, because if there’s one thing he hates more than anything, it’s you being upset. You are the only one that can make Gambit so emotional because he just loves you so so much. And if you ever forget, he doesn’t mind reminding his raison de vivre.”

Jean Gray

“I wish you could see what was in my mind… Maybe then you’d realize how much you mean to me, my love.”

When it comes to Jean, you’ve basically hit the jackpot on one of the most open and loving girlfriends you could ever ask for. You aren’t just a sweetheart, you are her sweetheart. She always touches you like a porcelain doll, staring into your eyes with so much affection of her own and giggling whenever you hug or hold her, prompting her to hold you or hug you back just as tightly. On missions, she is in the zone, but as soon as they are over, she’s heading straight to you to check if you are injured. And if you’re not? Expect this woman to shower you in so many compliments and love that you might just drown from the cuteness.

Jean isn’t just your protector, but also your best friend, always free to try anything you want to try and do what you want to do.Dare she say, you might be the love of her life. Screw being lovers, she wants to be a married couple. But as much as that gets her excited, she’ll take her time for you, because she knows whether it takes her whole life or a single day, she doesn’t mind waiting for the fateful day.

Jubilee

“That was awesome! Did you see me out there- Did you?! Let me let you in on a secret; That last one was for you~!”

Because of how young she is and her lack of a love life, Jubilee is still pretty new to the whole dating and falling in love thing. But when she met you, she knew she was bound to fall in love with someone so positive and full of life. An embodiment of a firework if she said so herself. She always drags you around town with her to hangout at arcades or spend time in the mall grabbing lunch and doing cute couple things.

She cares about you enough to ask other X-Men members advice on how to treat you or show you how much you mean to her. It honestly impresses and shocks the team how this troublemaker tries her best to make you feel like the luckiest person in the world dating her. If she’s not showing her love for you through domestic activities, then look outside your window at night. You are bound to find Jubilee sending you love with her fireworks bound to make you giggle and smile. Which is always delightful because when you are filled with so much happiness, so is she.

Magneto

“What we have is stronger than any magnetic pull I’m capable of. It’s terrifying. But also magnificent.”

If you ever wanted to be treated like royalty, Magneto is the man for you. Erik treats you like you are a precious flower that could be destroyed by the mutant hating world around you. Because of this, he is so careful with you, yet not overbearing. If you want to hang out outside or simply hang out with him, he doesn’t mind as long as no one looks at you the wrong way or touches you with ill intent. Because if they do?… Let’s just say Magneto can do a lot with his powers.

When he’s not making sure you’re safe, he is awestruck at your innocence and your positive outlook on life. At first, he actually found your vision of the world to be immature, untrue and above all stupid. But the more he’s spent time with you, you’ve seem to have melted his cold heart a bit. Does he still think humanity is the scum of the Earth and nothing can change? Yes. But with you by his side, showing him what love, understanding and acceptance can be, maybe, just maybe, he can see where you’re coming from.

Morph

“Why the long face, babe? I can do a mean Magneto impression that’s sure to make you smile… Haha! There’s my love!”

Around people, Morph treats you almost like one of the guys, in a figurative sense. They don't treat you any differently from the rest of his friends and family within the team. But behind closed doors or when you two are alone, all bets are off. They are melting at your sweet nature and so quick to try to make you laugh, smile or get physical with them. Man, do they love when you get physical with him- They adore it!

But what they really loves is how caring and protecting of them you are. They've told you about their past, their run in with Mister Sinister and their time away from the team. And no matter how many nightmares or moments of body dysmorphia he experiences, they love how you are always there to pick up their loose pieces and put them back together with your gentle touch and gentler words. Because of this, they're always there to return the favor and comfort you as well when you are at your lowest. You are their best friend sorry Logan and their beloved and they wouldn’t want it any other way.

Nightcrawler

“Liebe meines Lebens. You never cease to take my breath away.”

Kurt is a pretty romantic person, especially when it comes to you. He showers you endlessly in love, rubbing his nose against yours, showering your face in kisses and becoming putty when you hold him, even if it’s just by his arm! He cherishes moments where the both of you hang out, especially by gardens where he makes cute flower crowns with you. Though just any moments with you are the highlight of his day. On missions, you two synergize perfectly well with the blue mutant complimenting you on your moves and takedowns of foes.

Kurt is an expert at physical touch for a love language, but he’s just as amazing with his words, especially with the nicknames he’s given you. He’ll make sure everyone knows that you are his Schatz, Herz, bessere Hälfte, and of course, Liebe meines Lebens. To you, he’s a lot like a little puppy; Full of energy and always waiting for your attention and affection given to him. The team thinks you two are cute even if they find it a bit annoying that Nightcrawler is always teleporting you two all over the place. It’s not too bad though since the sound of your mixing laughter is enough to make everyone’s hearts soar happily.

Rouge

“Hey, Sugar! I missed you so much today! Now come here, I at least want a hug!”

Rogue is super careful of you. You are just too precious to her and she doesn’t want to hurt or break you with her powers. So she makes sure you both have ways of showing one another how much you love each other, especially herself. Outside of soft hugs, she tries her best to give you a hand covered kiss. Though she can be super cheesy and exchange indirect kisses with rocks, feed you while chuckling at how adorably you stare at her like she hung the stars above. She’ll even have you both set up for dinner plans and fly you around in the sky if you ever want to destress from work as a X-Man.

You both have a cute relationship, even if there are moments where Rogue wonders if she deserves you or if she will ever be enough for you due to her destructive powers and the possibility she will never be able to touch you. These revelations have led to emotional nights, but the promise you make to touch her and make her the happiest woman in the world always makes Rogue realize that she is beyond lucky to have you. You make her want to find a way to touch you no matter what. And mark her words, she will.

Wolverine

“Woah, little pup. I was just gone for a few hours, you act like I went to war or something! Aw, screw it, come here.”

Logan has fallen in love with many men and women during his years of living. But damn has he never met anyone quite like you! When he met you, he thought your whole sweetheart shtick was fake, no offense. He thought it was some trick used to get people to lower their guards around you so you can get the upper hand on them. But when he found out you really were the sweet soul everyone hyped you up to be, he slowly but surely fell for you. He fell for how you spoke to him with such understanding and patience. The way you touched him was with the utmost care when you took care of him and helped him clean blood from your adventures with him that got out of hand.

Logan fights for many people, but for you he will kill anyone that hurts you or makes you cry. Your smile lights up his whole life, your laugh pushes him to be stronger to preserve it and your touch makes him feel alive in a world that always knocks him down. If it’s not the X-Men, Wolverine usually fights for himself and only himself. But now that he has you to lose, he fights for the both of you and a future where you both can live a peaceful life you’re both proud of.

If you got any requests for X-Men '97, Blue Eye Samurai, and or Arcane, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[randombush3]

another snippet while I slave away lol

this one hurt a bit to write x

“My mums are lesbian!” he blurts out, excited enough to attract the attention of his teacher. When she appears, he grins at her sweetly; the kind of smile that has melted many hearts, though Nico is unaware of how many people know he exists. “More paper, please.” 

“Nico, you haven’t even tried with your first one.”

She isn’t harsh at all, but he has slowly learnt to stop asking follow-up questions. Six months of exasperated ‘I don’t know, Nicolau’s has taught him that. 

He shrugs. “Okay.”

He learnt what a shrug was the other day, when Mapi told him off for doing it to her. (“Don’t shrug your shoulders at me, Nicolau Putellas!” she had chided playfully. “All I asked was which of your mamas’ houses we need to go to.”)

“Nico, what’s ‘lesbian’?” 

“Mama says football is lesbian. Basketball might be lesbian! That’s why your sister is lesbian.” 

“My mum says that lesbians kiss girls.”

“Mama kisses girls! And Mami. And they used to kiss each other but now they don’t speak and me and my sister swap houses.” Nico begins drawing it out for Paula when she peers at him, befuddled. “Here is Mama’s.” A big square, a glamorous-looking woman inside of the blue shape; a stick with a circle on the end of it; the notes he sees in his piano music floating in the air. “And…” he says, tongue sticking out as he concentrates on the opposite half of the page, “here is Mami’s.” 

He draws a football. He picks up the red crayon too, and uses both the blau and the grana simultaneously. “Mami plays football for Barça.” He draws two lines on Alexia’s t-shirt. 11. “Mami made me get 11 at football.” Nico had originally worn the 10, but then the affair had come to light and Alexia was suddenly deep in conversation with his coach and apologising to the boy Nico then had to swap shirts with. 

Then, he drops the crayons in his hand and searches for the stack near Paula. He selects the purple one, gripping it tightly, his friend still listening to him with intrigue. 

“This is me and Lela.” Two stick figures are drawn in the middle of the page; the middle ground between each of the squares. 

Nico sometimes feels stuck between it all. 

When Mami got very sad, he and Elena went to stay with Mapi and Ingrid for a few nights. He held his little sister’s hand as much as he could. He always tries to remind her that he is right there with her. 

Mami once told him that it was his turn to protect Elena. Nico hasn’t forgotten that. 

“I keep Lela safe.” He has encouraged her, slightly selfishly, to call him ‘skipper’, which he has picked up from the Lionesses. Luckily, Alexia has not told him off for it because she doesn’t know what it means. “Lela is my little sister. She is a baby. She doesn’t remember what it was like when Mama and Mami loved each other, but I do.” 

The purple crayon scrapes on the page as he presses it into the white, colour rubbing out in the shape of a heart. “Lela and I are together. Mami tries to take me from her sometimes, but I don’t let her.” 

His story – and ability to make Paula pay attention for longer than ten seconds – has already garnered the quiet attention of his teacher, but she moves closer as Nico continues. The four-year-old leaves out how Alexia usually is inviting him to training with her. With Elena yet to show any interest in football, it remains her and Nico’s special thing, and, of course, she misses him when it is not her turn. 

You usually give your permission if you have no other plans. Alexia is upset that the only hindrance is the little boy who once worshipped her like a god. 

“Nico, why did you want two pages?” asks Paula curiously, assuming he is finished now that his whole family is displayed on the piece of paper. 

He frowns. “Because now I have to do this.” And with that, he tears the sheet in half. 

Paula’s mouth drops open in surprise, as does his teacher’s. 

“What’s wrong?” comes a mature voice, a hand placed on his shoulder just like it is when the other children in his class cry. Nico doesn’t cry. He is strong and brave, like a little soldier. “Did you not like your drawing?” 

“No,” he replies neutrally, “half can live with Mama, and half can live with Mami.” 

“But now you are ripped down the middle.” 

He traces the jagged edges of the halves of his life. One leg is on your side, the other on Alexia’s. 

“I know, but it’s okay. I don’t cry.”

[teecupangel]

I keep seeing this floating around and I keep thinking of Desmond and his ancestors getting drug into the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.

First off Captain Nemo showing Connor how to pilot his huge ass submarine. Aaaaand also Ezio and Tom Sawyer both endlessly flirting with Mina Harker.

I dunno. Altaïr might chill with Dr. Jekyll.

I think Desmond would be the first to catch on to Dorian Gray, or maybe Altaïr.

Either way Moriarty gives off Templar vibes and I don't think that is something that must be explained.

(also bonus Frye Twins content? They seem very likely to be involved there)

I’m going to be honest, I barely remember the movie and it’s been so long since I read the comics so I am working with what I can remember XD

Since you added Dorian Gray, I will assume that this is more in line with the movie than the comics.

For this one, Desmond and his three main ancestors get transported into the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and they assumed they had just been transported into another time until they start realizing that, given the year, there should be information about the British Brotherhood but there’s nothing.

There wasn’t even any information about the Kenway bloodline and a quick stop to Italy would show that there are no evidence of the Auditore family and the Assassins tombs never existed at all.

It is during this time that they are approached by a man who only goes by the name ‘Bond’ who recruits them into becoming part of a league of ‘extraordinary’ people.

Bond says that his ‘employers’ have been keeping an eye on them and found them a good fit. (Mainly because of their capabilities as Assassins, especially the Eagle Vision).

They’re introduced to Quartermain who is noted to be the ‘leader’ of the group and Tom Sawyer, his… protege? Assistant? They weren’t clear. All they said was that Tom Sawyer is part of the group.

In this one, Ratonhnhaké:ton would definitely try to learn how to pilot Captain Nemo’s submarine and Captain Nemo would be more than happy to try and teach him, enjoying the young man’s enthusiasm.

Ezio would be more on the side of just casually flirting with Mina Harker as a way to get more information about her and this league of theirs. She knows this and response in kind because she tells him that they (Ezio and the others) ‘smell’ different. (We can also push for the idea that Jonathan Harker’s death still haunts Mina and Ezio can related to that, being reminded by Cristina’s own death).

Desmond though would be more inclined to talk to Dr Jekyll because of the whole two personalities in one body situation. Dr Jekyll would feel a kindred spirit with Desmond but also tell him that he will never understand the horror that the doctor is going through because Desmond accepted his Bleeding Effect and even embraced it while Dr Jekyll is stuck in hell, trying to wrestle control from his ‘other self’. Whether this turns into a bromance or a romance is up to you.

Altaïr would be the one to catch on to Dorian Gray, mostly because the four of them decided to divide and conquer to get more information about this world and talking to Quartermain is both informative but also a bit too bland so Altaïr sometimes talk to Dorian Gray. He doesn’t know his story (no one does because Desmond didn’t really read the classics but he did watch Invisible Man XD)

Speaking of which… they can all see the Invisible Man using their Eagle Vision. That’s why none of them suspect the Invisible Man when things started heating up.

‘M’ definitely gave Templar vibes and the twist can be that he is part of the Templar Order back in their own world, having changed places with the original Moriarty when he fell from the top of Reichenbach Falls. He actually transmigrated to the dead body of Moriarty and took his place.

And he held the other Assassins (Edward, Arno, Jacob and Evie) in some kind of stasis in his secret headquarters because the ‘smell’ Mina talked about it actually the otherwordly energy their bodies give off. They’re the perfect batteries to use for WMD that Moriarty had been developing in secret and it’s up to the League and the Brotherhood to stop him.

This would probably end with the Assassins leaving the Brotherhood to form… well… the Brotherhood while helping the imprisoned Assassins get back on their feet. Also, they haven’t found out how they were getting ‘sent’ in this world and that would be their priority, ending this more on the side of the League and the Brotherhood having a tentative alliance.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I'd finished most of the new stuff on my comedy list before I went on my trip to the UK, and since I've been back, I haven't started any new long-running audio comedy things. I will at some point, but not right away, as August is dedicated to stand-up. When I'm home at my computer I'm catching up on comedy admin and Edinburgh NextUp streams and things, don't need to get into anything new besides that. However, I still have commutes to and from work and breaks during work and I need something in my headphones because real life is not a good thing, so I've been re-listening to stuff.

This is how I've been reminded of how very funny some of the old Kitson radio stuff is. Very very funny. And I must, once again, recommend it. Because we are lucky enough to have a bit of the internet where those radio shows are, as of last year, thanks to my very helpful friend, easy to find and listen to.

I helped a bit with that collection; I did the editing on a bunch of the older recordings, and I collated some of the track lists. I also listened to all the recordings and organized them with all the metadata I could find, which included some very forensic research to get dates for a few of them. A whole lot of digging through message board threads from 2007.

But the vast majority of work on that site is a friend of mine in London. Thanks to his efforts in collecting these recordings through various means over the course of years, doing lots of editing on them, and creating a site to host them, anyone can easily access all the Kitson radio that we've been able to find. Which is a hell of a lot of Kitson radio. Not all of it. We know there existed a Triple R episode from 2005 ft. Demetri Martin and David O'Doherty, and another featuring Chris Addison, they're both missing and I would give my hypothetical firstborn child for either of those recordings. But at this point we have a pretty comprehensive picture of all the radio stuff Daniel Kitson has done, and that archive has a significant amount of it.

The main editing job was creating versions with the songs taken out. Both versions are hosted on that website - the complete version has the talking and the music, the edited version has the talking only (unless a guest performed a song live in the studio or down the phone, as Gavin Osborn did a few times and I think David O'Doherty did once, I left those in the edited versions). I did most of the editing on the files from 2013 and earlier, my friend did most of the more recent ones.

I do recommend listening to the complete versions, if you have that kind of time and are interested in that kind of music. I've listened to the complete versions at least once each, and I have a whole folder just for songs I've discovered via Kitson radio, there's a lot in there that I really liked. Well, a lot I liked from 2013 and earlier. Later than that, there are still a few songs that I liked enough to save to my folder, but a lot more songs that I disliked. Though I suppose music taste is subjective. Are you into experimental electronica and annoying discordant sounds? Then you'll love Daniel Kitson's music taste, circa 2016-2023. Are you into fey indie (his term, not mine - actually "fey indie" started as a term a fan used to describe his music on a website, Kitson read it and then defensively started describing his own music taste that way) rock and folk-ish music? Then listen to the complete versions of Daniel Kitson's radio shows, 2006-2013. The 2013 Resonance run is sort of in the middle, though. He got really into LCD Soundsystem in 2012, and it's all been downhill from there.

But anyway, as much I enjoyed some of the music, four-hour episodes is a bit of a ridiculous thing for people to jump into listening to. Sometimes you don't have time to listen to a four-hour episode with all the music. Editing out songs cut the four-hour episodes down to around an hour each, which is more manageable. Also, even though I like a lot of the songs, I have chosen to put on Daniel Kitson radio because I'm in the mood to hear Daniel Kitson (and/or his friends) say stuff. If I wanted to hear his favourite music, I'd put on stuff from my "Kitson radio songs" folder instead. Hence the utility of edited versions, which lets me choose which bits I hear. The website that my incredibly helpful friend made allows you to choose that even more easily, as there are edited radio episodes with only the chat, and Spotify playlists with only the songs (and documents with track lists, if you want to find the songs but you, like me, don't do Spotify).

I put all that effort, a year and a half ago now, into making edited versions of the radio episodes that my friend had not already edited, so there could be an option to easily hear the chat on its own. But until I did some re-listens this week, I hadn't properly taken advantage of my own work to enjoy that stuff myself. I loved listening to that stuff last year, but hadn't really re-visited it since I'd completed all the edits.

I'll do a quick summary of what's in that archive, which I posted about a year and a half ago now so it seems worth repeating. Resonance FM is an artsy community radio station in England. Triple R is like that but in Melbourne.

Daniel Kitson's Listening Club, Resonance FM: Daniel Kitson talking and playing music from 1:30-4:30 AM, an initial run of an episode per week in early 2006, then a couple of one-off episodes in October 2006, and a couple more episodes in early 2007, these all featured Kitson on his own until the 2007 ones, where Gavin Osborn was with him

Graveyard, Triple R: When traveling to Australia, Daniel Kitson would host radio shows from 2 AM to 6 AM, usually with one person with him but sometimes with two or more guests, usually one or two episodes per week for the few weeks of MICF, but a couple of times he was in Australia on non-MICF tours and did one-off episodes - our archive has his complete runs from 2007 and 2008, as well as a few episodes from other years, we know 2005 was the first year he did it but we haven't found any of the 2005 recordings (the last year for which we have recordings is 2012, I think that's the last year he did it at all)

Comedy Special, Triple R: three episodes, recorded one per week from MICF in 2009, from midnight-2 AM, the only radio stuff that Kitson has hosted in front of a live studio audience, with a bunch of musical and comedian guests live in the studio (including performers from various countries, as they were all in town for the festival), though Kitson also played some songs and comedy routines off CDs, Kitson tried out some new stand-up bits in between the live and recorded guests, so overall Kitson acted more as a live gig compere than a radio host in these, which is why those three episodes are the only ones for which we didn't make edited versions, the songs and comedy routines are such a big part of this that it didn't seem to make sense to cut them out

2013 Resonance FM run: one episode per week, January-March 2013, midnight-2:30 AM, Daniel Kitson talking and playing songs on his own

Captain Bang-Bang's Magic Castle, Resonance FM: one episode per week for four weeks in October 2016, midnight-2 AM, Daniel Kitson talking and playing songs on his own

Trifle, Resonance FM: Monday-Thursday from midnight-1:30 AM, for all of August 2020, Daniel Kitson talking and playing songs - it's different from the others in a way I don't want to spoil, but basically, Daniel Kitson made something that came together in a way that means he nearly did manage to do an Edinburgh show (by which I mean a new artsy show of the sort he normally does at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival each year, not a show literally performed in Edinburgh... though it was sort of almost that too...) in the first year that Edinburgh was cancelled (the last few episodes feature various guest stars, the first Kitson-hosted radio shows to feature non-Kitson people since he last did Triple R Graveyard)

A Reason to Wake Up, Resonance FM: Daniel Kitson has turned 40 and does not wish to stay up all night for no reason any more, which is fair enough, so these shows ran from 7 AM-9 AM, still Kitson on his own talking and playing music, usually with a new episode every weekday for the two-to-four weeks that the run lasted - he did one run in 2018, one in 2019, one in 2020, and one in 2023

Misc.: This is Daniel Kitson appearing on shows where he wasn't the host, most in Australia but some in England (generally, the ones in England are very old, from before he started refusing to do publicity things like appear on other people's radio shows - but for years after he stopped doing that stuff in England, he'd continue doing it in Australia, particularly on the Triple R Breakfasters program)

So I've been going back to that stuff this week, and it's been great. I've re-listened to every episode of the Triple R Graveyard run he did from MICF 2007, and that run might be perfect. I think the MICF 2007 run, more than any of the rest of it, is like an album without a single skippable track. Six episodes, which come to only 6.5 hours in the edited versions, very easy to listen to in a week. He did two episodes per week for six weeks - one episode with David and Claudia O'Doherty (though in the final week, David was sick so he just had a Claudia, David called in for a bit), one episode with a different guest. Those different guests being Steve Hall, then Andy Zaltzman, then Steve Hall. Look, no one has accused Daniel Kitson circa-2007 of being particularly diverse in his comedian friends. This was peak Chocolate Milk Gang era (the Triple R Graveyard stuff in general is pretty much the best source of CMG content we have), and I am aware that the Chocolate Milk Gang is not the most demographically diverse group in the world. Though Claudia O'Doherty was like 23 that year (it's all right, I think her and David just barely scraped by on the "half your age plus seven" rule - and the fact that I greatly enjoyed their joint appearances while they were dating is my proof that 1) I don't hate all comedians bringing their romantic relationship into their comedy, just most of them, and 2) I don't hate all relationships with an age gap, just ones that start when someone's a teenager) and yet she managed to consistently stand out as the funniest thing among people who'd been doing comedy for far longer.

It's really the dynamics among everyone that make those episodes so funny, though. They're all different. The Kitson/O'Doherties episodes have this sort of tension and competitiveness that I find very funny to listen to, particularly over who knows the most indie music (the answer to that is clearly DO'D). It's the sort of friction you get when people who are too similar try to outdo each other, and when people who know each other very well can use that to annoy each other, especially if it's 5 AM and you've been locked in a radio studio together all night. That's what those episodes feel like. A very strong sense that this is three people locked in a radio studio together all night, and they all like each other very much but also want to fight. Mainly, it's delightful to listen to.

But not as delightful as the Andy Zaltzman episode, because nothing in the world is as delightful as listening to Daniel Kitson and Andy Zaltzman stay up all night in a radio studio, playing BBC sound effects. I re-listened to that one on the plane home from the UK, which was a pretty depressing journey as I was sad to have the trip over, but I couldn't be that sad, because Andy Zaltzman for some reason had access to the entire BBC sound effect library (they don't actually explain why he had this), and Daniel Kitson was making him press buttons, and it is so much fun to listen to.

I've heard Kitson and Zaltzman try to meld their extremely different comedy styles together before, usually on stages that also contained other comedians, and at least contained an audience, and that tends to be awkward at best. But it turns out that when it's just the two of them in a room, they can do it. It is nothing short of adorable, how hard Daniel Kitson tried to modify his own style to accommodate whatever the hell Andy was talking about. He set Andy up for all those esoteric jokes. Asked him to do his esoteric impressions. Giggled with baffled delight at Andy's obscure sports references. And when they ran out of things to say to each other, they'd just play more sound effects. Kitson even tried to get Andy Zaltzman to play some of his radio show The Department, which Andy refused to do because obviously that's a copyright violation, so instead, they dedicated one entire link to Andy Zaltzman doing one of his stand-up routines. It's a routine I've never heard Andy do elsewhere (though it's very similar to some stuff he did in early Bugle episodes), and it must be taken from his 2007 stand-up hour, so I think it may be the only bit of that show that's been recorded anywhere. It was a bit of parody sports commentary on the world championships for a sport that doesn't exist, extremely classic Zaltzman and not Kitson's type of humour at all, but Kitson let him do it anyway (or, more likely given their dynamic, made him do it).

And Kitson only lightly mocked Zaltzman's old and weird music taste, when just one night earlier he'd been ripping into DO'D for tiny differences in their broadly similar music. The unedited version of the Zaltzman episode is pretty funny to listen to, because it's got the normal Kitson music and then every once in a while there's a song by Muddy Waters or Boney M that tonally clashes so much, but he let Andy play it anyway.

I find it extremely funny that Kitson went so far to accommodate Andy Zaltzman's very different style of comedy, and the extent of Andy returning the favour was one time, he talked some shit about Daniel Kitson's ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend, which was a very 2007-era Kitson-esque thing to do, and not at all a Zaltzman-esque thing to do. But of course, Andy did that shit talking in Latin, because you can't expect him to change that much. Oh, and one time, Kitson claims he called a song "a bit gay" off-mic. Also a very 2007-era Kitson-esque thing and a very un-Zaltzman-esque thing, because, and I suppose this is a good time to give this warning for the pre-2010 Kitson radio stuff in general, this was at the height of Daniel Kitson's "finding ironic bigotry very funny" era. My attitude on that specific type of ironic bigotry being - I was in high school in 2007, and everyone spent that entire year calling things "gay" in a disparaging way with no irony at all, so actually, I'm fine with the fact that Daniel Kitson apparently spent that year saying it in a way that points out how stupid that is. But I'm also very glad he eventually stopped doing that.

I also find Andy Zaltzman interesting in that episode, as it's a side of him I've not heard much, despite the many hundreds of hours I've spent listening to Andy Zaltzman speak. His stand-up is often densely written, and even though The Bugle is unscripted, he turns up to it with a lot of prepared material. So those four hours he spent in a radio studio with Daniel Kitson are a rare way for me to hear Andy Zaltzman with no prepared material at all (except, I guess, that one link that was just a stand-up routine). There's a recording from the last night of Late 'n' Live from Edinburgh in 2007, where Andy Zaltzman doesn't do an actual set but just hangs out on stage with Kitson and improvises at the crowd with him, and it's a similar case of getting to hear what Andy Zaltzman comes up with off the cuff.

It really emphasizes how much Andy Zaltzman's sense of humour is just lies. I find it impressive how fast he comes up with lies, in the Late 'n' Live recording and in this radio show, where he's not even prepared them but can bullshit in real time. Snooker references and lies. It's fucking great. And I love the way Kitson interacts with it, not able to easily get a back-and-forth with it the way he could with a comedian who's more similar to him like DO'D, but he'll just throw to Andy like a news presenter every once in a while - okay, Andy do you have anything on this? And then Andy will tell a lie, Kitson will giggle at this weird man with his unending well of bullshit, and they'll move on. This sometimes gets stilted when they try it with too many people around, but it is pure, distilled delight when it's just the two of them.

Anyway, I did not mean for Andy Zaltzman describing to become such a big part of this post, especially since he was the only person to appear in the 2007 run only once. We complete the collection with the Steve Hall episodes, which are an entirely different type of energy but I am also obsessed with them. Daniel Kitson and Steven Hall have a dynamic that is difficult to describe, and I'm not sure I want to describe, but I hugely enjoy listening to it. Fairly combative, but in a different way from how he is with David and Claudia, and that difference is also difficult to describe. I'll put it in this way: in one of the 2007 O'Doherty episodes, there's a bit where they keep escalating making fun of each other until David does a very brief imitation of Kitson's stutter, before cutting himself off and there's an immediate sense that that may have gone too far, they pull it back from there. While in the Steve Hall episodes, one of them ends with someone getting hit in the face against the microphone, and that seems entirely in line, tonally, with the rest of the show.

Steve features on four Triple R Graveyard episodes - 2 in the main MICF 2007 run, a one-off in fall 2007, and one from MICF 2008 - and they're all extremely funny. Definitely the darker and edgier side of Daniel Kitson radio. I do really, really like listening to Steve Hall. His weird teetering between deferential and aggressive, edgy and apologetic, thoughtful and, to use their word, smutty. There was an extra weird energy in the room during his initial episodes from MICF 2007, as his girlfriend has just left him, and that topic came up repeatedly and inappropriately. Not in an incel way... mostly... I mean it might have got borderline occasionally, but when I say it was brought up "inappropriately", I don't mean because of misogyny, I mean he did things like awkwardly mention it while Gavin Osborn was just trying to play a song. (Actually, bringing this up reminds me - I have just downloaded the new sitcom Daddy Issues, from reviews it doesn't look all that great, but I am greatly looking forward to watching every episode anyway it because of who made it.)

The Steve Hall episodes from the MICF 2007 run are also the ones that feature the guest stars via phone calls, which is fun. Josie Long texted in a couple of times, unfortunately didn't call. Gavin Osborn called in, though, and sang a song down the phone (after expertly sidestepping Steve Hall nearly derailing the whole thing), which was absolutely lovely. And what I'm pretty sure was a very high Phil Nichol (I mean, it was definitely Phil Nichol, I'm inferring the part about recreational drugs being involved) called in to tell Daniel Kitson he loves him, which is both amazingly funny and sort of genuinely sweet. On the subject of guest stars via phone call, there's a very good bit in the MICF 2008 run, during the David and Claudia O'Doherty episode, when Kristen Schaal calls in to tell them how great they are.

I found Steve Hall so incredibly likeable in those Kitson shows that that I went looking for his other stuff. I have to be the only person who watched the entire We Are Klang sitcom in 2023 just for one actor, and that actor was not Greg Davies. There are a few We Are Klang live bits on YouTube too, which I've found very funny, though I cannot in good conscience recommend them to anyone else. I even listened to a couple of episodes of Frank Skinner's radio show from 2018 because it was a rare case of Steve Hall appearing on a show in recent years, and Steve was fun there, though I found Frank Skinner so insufferably annoying that I could barely get through it (he is, of course, now off the radio, and he left while complaining that all the radio stations are getting rid of old dinosaurs like him to make room for the young and hip crowd... only to be replaced by middle-aged straight white male divorced comedian Jon Richardson, but at least the woman from whom Jon's divorced was an adult when he met her). I don't know what Steve Hall does these days. He spent many years as a writer on Russell Howard's TV shows, which is fine, bringing in Jordan Peterson probably wasn't his personal fault. Hopefully.

Okay, I think that's pretty much what I have to say about that. Like I said, all the Kitson radio stuff is fun, a lot of it is very very good, but the MICF 2007 run is one where we have every single episode recorded and archived, and there are zero misses. Listening to the edits of all those is a great way to spend 6.5 hours. Or the complete versions, that's more hours but still good, because it's back when Daniel Kitson's music taste was... I will be fair and say "more in alignment with my own subjective taste than it is now", even though what was really mean is "back when it was good". I highly recommend that, if you're all right with an occasional dash of ironic bigotry in the earlier stuff, I believe it was 2013 when Kitson started announcing that he'd figured out that saying stuff like that ironically wasn't as funny as he used to believe. I don't think anything in those radio episodes gets that bad, but I have just finished listening to the collected works of Peacock & Gamble, so I have a fairly high bar for what constitutes bad in that way.

[chemicalbrew]

tagged

by @radellama thanks bestie!!!

1. why did you choose your url?

multiple reasons:

I chose chemicalbrew as my go-to handle everywhere important, because the handle I picked for this purpose as a teen is cringe

I like having canon URLs; especially if they are kind of hard-to-get and\or subtle references, which this one is perfect for, IMO. The last time I felt good about a handle in this sense was when I went by theplanetbuster

I like katzero :) a normal amount :) and I always will I think :)

Chemical Brew is just a good track and I love being reminded of its existence every time I log on anywhere.

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them.

I'm too lazy to upkeep them, so I compensate with my tagging system... Well, there is actually one where I wanted to put my writing if I ever did any, but in the end all writing I do is roleplay stuff on discord that's not meant to be shared widely HELP. And what I do end up getting out once in a blue moon, I just put on AO3...

I used to hoard a whole lot of URLs, but I got scared of getting terminated for a second time, so aside from the almost empty writing blog I mentioned earlier, I just hoard five that I'd hate to see anyone else have (some of these I used to go by, too)

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

Almost ten years; I haven't remade once, so you can see this just by going to the archive (don't do that, actually)

4. do you have a queue tag?

I do, and it's a Transistor reference :) I can count on my hands the amount of times I've queued stuff, though.

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

Found this place while looking for Zelda fanart; thought it would be easier to use the dashboard instead of checking individual pages. At least I think that was the biggest reason. IDR

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Zero I like him :) At this point it feels wrong if I don't have him as my pfp on here and\or discord so... here he is!!! (since I'm still Four on discord) Not to mention that I kinda need him here to match the rest of my stuff.

I put the NB flag border for Pride month this year for fun and I'm too lazy to put the old version back (also, once again, I like weird subtle shit like that.).

7. why did you choose your header?

I always choose my headers with purpose, though it's not quite the case here: this is a holdover from when I was cherrymegablaster, and it's meant to directly complement that URL in a way that's obvious if you played the game. LOL

I kept it because it's funny to call a drink a chemical brew (and because there's not enough DLC footage for me to make a nice gif with. There's a few stills I really like, but I prefer my headers animated!) ...and because I'm just really happy with the gif.

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

I can't be assed to use the site that scans for this stuff and I'm not proud of my ancient random shit that blew up a bit anyway. So... I'll just tell you this gifset I made on a whim is the one with the most notes.

I REALLY hope the rainbow katzero set outpaces it one day because it's also continuously showing up in my activity and it's easily the one I put the most work into. I need to get off my ass and make more gifs!!!

9. how many mutuals do you have?

...does anyone keep count of that? just the right amount to keep me happy :3

10-11. how many followers do you have? how many people do you follow?

343 \ 1414. why are these such nice numbers

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

Yes, but I don't post them, I just send them to my friends on discord. I'd say hatewar but it's on fire alone counts as a collaborative shitpost of the highest tier, but barely anyone knows what I mean and I love it.

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

Ehhh, it depends... I know I check my activity mostly every morning just in case, and I check the dod3 and katzero tags once or twice a week, but it's not a strict schedule thing, I forget sometimes :] The tags are slow anyway, and I have sooo many active katzero posters blocked that it's even slower for me :p

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

I don't think so..? Definitely not in public, I've had arguments with friends I made here, but it's a different thing. I think everyone on my dash is largely chill and has moved on past the disk horse or whatever the fuck

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts

DO PEOPLE STILL MAKE THESE...

16. do you like tag games?

That and 'reblog and put your opinion on X \ what you did today' is always really fun, I <3 being annoying about minor details in my boring life (also I'm literally doing one rn, aren't I)

17. do you like ask games?

Yes, but I never get any asks, so I don't reblog them too often. :]

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

@/ositia, they're a very good artist and I miss seeing them around

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

I have only had two crushes in my life, and one of them was on a former mutual I've drifted apart from. I know he won't be reading this cause he blocked me, but I still think about him and I hope he's moved to a nice enough place, at least :")

20. tags

uuugh just do this if you want to

[therabbitsmuse]

one of my many ongoing projects is moving my favorite photos onto the Day One app. i haven't gone through my google photos in forever & came across SO many photos that I have loved & forgotten about. it's been a super tedious process but it's crazy how seeing a photo will allow you to dive right back into the past like it happened just yesterday. some findings during that process:

my life literally was 'eat, sleep, rave, repeat' for YEARS. but make 'eat' interchangeable with 'drink' lol. going through those memories felt like a rollercoaster. i felt like i wasn't in control of anything during that phase and could barely anticipate the next sudden drop in life. side note, seeing these photos reminded me of my godlike party stamina back then lol. sometimes i wish i still had it but i think it's gone for a good reason now lol

this is going to sound conceited as hell but DAYUM i looked GOOD! but I can remember clear as day my mindset back then when I took those photos -- how insecure i was, picking at every little thing. if i could go back in time, it would be to shake myself and be like, "girl, be more CONFIDENT. it shows when you're not! also, you look great." like how was i partying that much and sleeping so little and still looking decent? nowadays, if i have one late night a week, it fucking shows EVERYTHING hahaha. maybe this is what they mean to just enjoy your youth because everything that you were worried about back then really isn't going to matter in the future/never existed anywhere but in your own head.

oh, my friends from that era. i remember how great of a time we had together. and i also am very aware that at this point in present-day time, we're more like acquaintances now. it's been years since I've seen some of them or even longer since we've had deep conversations. i'm trying to not romanticize that time period since I'm all up in my feels but i do have the urge to jump back into it like old times. except those days don't exist anymore.

despite the thousands of photos I'm going through, i wish i took more photos!!! I have a lot of shitty photos because I didn't want to bother with taking an extra minute or two to try to take something with a better composition. plus the cameras on phones back then were so bad (looking at my edc 2013 videos LMFAO). it was more about 'just be there in the moment'. but now, 10 years later, my dusty ass brain cannot recall a lot of it LOL. i really thought some crusty 10-second snapchat was enough because at that time, i never thought i would look back on those videos years into the future. and wish i had more of them, shitty quality and all.

& going off of that, during 2016 edc, my bf at the time invited four girls from taiwan to come with us. we lowkey made fun of them the whole time because they were so insistent on taking photos every hour or so. at some point, my bf was like, "STOP TAKING PHOTOS, PUT THAT AWAY, I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU GUYS TAKE ANOTHER SELFIE!" but in retrospect, they did take some cute ass photos! like I've gone to 6 EDC's at this point i don't even have a single photo of myself overlooking kinetic field. i had some cute photos with people i no longer speak to and would hopefully never see again lmao. I've tried cropping them out but it's still just tainted shit and blurry low-quality jpegs haha. nothing with just me.

[side note, i just talked to my ex whom i mentioned in the previous bullet in the middle of writing this. i basically told him everything i just said about wishing I had taken more photos back then and he's like, "hah yeah, i do wish we had taken more photos then, the fobs were right" LOLLL]

I'm still pretty shy about taking my camera out and taking photos because i don't want to be that friend who makes people wait before they can eat their food lol but i think i can find other moments where i can take pics~ i really wish i had taken the coolpix i had in college around to events.

basically I'm gonna make sure there's no shortage of good photos of my 30's and I'm also going to try to note down memories with each collage because there's so much shit i forget about after a week goes on and they're just lost forever

[28whitepeonies]

Hi bea

Hope you're doing well. Do you have a ranking of all tracks for fitf yet? I am curious to know, if you are comfortable sharing of course. :)

Hello anon

Indeed I do, and if you don't mind I'll commentate my ranking choices because I haven't ever been succinct!

Silver tongues - I think this is potentially my favourite song he's made ever. I think that live experience really comes through on the very best songs

Written all over your face - a very, very close second. I live for the kind of snarky lyrics and early Arctic Monkeys vibe

That's the way love goes - I think this was done a bit dirty by the songs preceding it, I bought the 2 vinyl deluxe and I can only assume it was a deliberate choice to have D side with four quite slow, ballad-y songs but I think it didn't do this justice. Anyway, I love it, it is very reminiscent of the streets to me and I spent a while listening to nothing but a grand don't come for free as a teenager.

Chicago - won't hear any slander, it's a banger to belt out in the car, in the lift, in the shower, literally anywhere

Lucky again - Okay was interested in the changes between the leaked version and this, this version defo fits the album a lot better and the lyrics give me all the feels

Out of my system - wasn't my fave as a single but hearing it on the album I enjoy it more. It's short and punchy and I think the drumbeat will slap live!

The greatest - Great opener, not my fave but think it will be banging for live shows and does a pretty good job at setting the tone of the album.

She is beauty we are world class - the chorus reminds me a lot of The Killers - 'are we one or are we two/are we me or are we you'/'are we human or are we dancer'. It got a lot more interesting after the toilet story because I enjoy how very silly and British that feels, so it has moved up about 5 places as a result.

Holding on to heartache - I think if it was a tiny bit faster or louder I'd bump it up a few spots. Lyrically it's pretty great, the whole 'you say I wear it like a crown' it's just a bit slow and in my humble opinion had it been placed elsewhere on the tracklist I might have been more generous.

All this time - When it comes on I enjoy it, but I am liable to forget it exists otherwise so it gets a mid spot

Face the music - I want to love it for the line 'I don't wanna face the music but I still wanna dance with you' but it feels a wee bit cliche for me personally

Common people - How do you name a song after the banger that is that brit-pop classic and then release what is a lyrically great song but imo just way too slow? I think it could have punched you in the guts but it's more of a wet slap.

Saturdays - Every time I see the title I think of Sam Fender's song Saturday, and they share some similar themes - 'if Saturday don't come soon I'm gonna lose my mind/we used to say Saturdays take the pain away' and I wouldn't be surprised to hear that was part of the influence, it's just that I like Sam's song more.

Headline - We obv got the lyrics way ahead of the songs release and I expected this to go hard and be like noisy, which is obviously a me problem, but it didn't live up to expectations for me. It's fine, I love the way he sounds when he sings the second verse it's just not one I'll play on repeat

Angels fly - I think it's fine, I just don't connect to it a lot

Bigger than me - sorry but I think it's really boring, it's the only song I sometimes skip and in response pls enjoy my favourite scene from Gavin & Stacey

Two things to add overall

First is that I am of course a hater and more likely to comment on stuff I don't like than the opposite so I wanna be really really clear that I do actually really really like this album. There are a couple of things I think will change by LT3 and I am very very excited for tour and for what comes next.

Second, I am really excited to hear the live arrangements and wonder if he'll make any changes - one of my fave songs is Regretamine by Louis Dunford and on it's initial release it was a proper slow one but he really amped it up for live shows and it slaps so much more. Louis can perform his songs however he wishes to, but I am looking forward to hearing his set live because I think it is clear he has really crafted them with that in mind x

[arthurdrakoni]

The Dial-Up follows two dudes, one in 2022 and one in 1999, communicating over the Internet. It is also about the power of the Internet to bring us closer together for the better. This is my review.

The Dial-Up begins with a Scottish tech support worker named Lewis. It isn’t the most glamorous job, and the customers can be rather annoying, but it pays the bills. Recently, however, he’s gotten a call that has seriously spiced things up. He’s been contacted by another Scottish dude named Callum. It seems that Callum has never used the Internet before. In fact, he seems to big ignorant about quite a few things. It soon becomes clear that Callum is in the year 1999, while Lewis is in 2022. Lewis and Callum compare and contrast their respective lives. However, they also feel that fate has brought them together for a reason. But what could that reason be? 

The Dial-Up is very short. It is only four episodes long, and they clock in at a grand total of thirty-seven minutes long. Still, as is often the case, good things come in small packages.  And that’s certainly true for The Dial-Up.

The Dial-Up is very much a two-man show. Well, technically a three man show. Let’s not forget series creator Philip Catherwood. In terms of voice acting, however, The Dial-Up is carried entirely by David Hepburn and Craig McDonald Kelly. I just loved how David performed Callum as a laidback devil-pay-care kind of guy. Craig did a fantastic job performing Lewis as a sensible straight man to all of Callum’s wisecracks. 

This audio drama is a bit light on the sound-effects. We, of course, get to hear the iconic sound of a dial-up modem connecting to the Internet. We do get some cool sci-fi sound effects later on. Though, getting more specific would be spoilers. So, overall, a bit light on sound effects, but no shame in that. Honestly, David and Craig gave such wonderful and lively performances, I didn’t even notice the lack of sound effects most of the time. 

The major theme of The Dial-Up is about the power of the Internet to bring people together. I’m reminded of something Roger Ebert wrote in his review of the movie Pleasantville. He said, paraphrased, that perhaps it is true that we have more problems than people did in the past, but we also have more solutions and opportunities. Lewis bemoans 2022, and longs for the supposed simplicity of life in the 1990s. Callum is quick to point out that the 1990s had its share of problems as well. For example, yes, people did go out more to places like pubs and restaurants. However, that was because they did have any choice but to do so. Callum also points out that many people from the 1990s would kill to have access to all of the apps and Internet stuff that Lewis has at his fingertips. 

You would not be reading this review if it weren’t for the Internet. In fact, The Dial-Up, and pretty much every other audio drama I’ve reviewed, would not exist without the Internet. I’ve meet so many amazing people, and kindled so many friendships, thanks to the Internet. As an autistic person, who struggles with social anxiety, I’m forever grateful for all the ways that the Internet has helped make my life easier. The Internet helped me find seamless socks, and for that I am eternally grateful. I’ve also started branching out into voice acting. Yeah, I technically could do that without the Internet, but it would be a lot harder. 

Now, all of this isn’t to say we should all cloister ourselves away. On the contrary, sometimes it is nice to get out and about in the real world. It can be quite good to do so every now and again. Indeed, Lewis does encourage Callum to try some of the fun classes and activities that his community center offers. Any virtue taken to excess becomes a vice, as Aristotle famously noted. Hey, he might have been wrong about the youths, but he was right about that. You don’t want to spend all your time in the digital world, but that doesn’t make the Internet a bad thing. On the whole, The Dial-Up takes an optimistic view about our ability to balance cyberspace and fleshspace. 

Have you listened to The Dial-Up?  If so, what did you think?

Link to the original review on my blog: https://drakoniandgriffalco.blogspot.com/2023/07/the-audio-file-dial-up.html?m=1 

[harrys-titties]

Y/N and Harry hate each other, until they don’t. 

29K+

Warnings: Asshole Harry, A LOT of swearing (I’m sorry,) mentions of anxiety, a questionable game of drink or truth & smut 

(A/N FINALLY I FINISHED!!  Blood, sweat and tears has been put into this one, so I hope you all enjoy! Love you all <3 Also you may have to open in your web browser bc she is big af xx) 

-masterlist-

It wasn't that Y/N didn't like Harry, in all honesty, she didn't know him well enough to come to that conclusion. But from what she'd seen so far, she wasn't too impressed. She had never found it too challenging to make new friends, often finding herself able to get along with even the oddest of characters, but with Harry, it was a different story.

Perhaps if they weren’t forced to stay in the same house during quarantine, having to spend days on end with only each other and their housemates to cure their boredom, things would be different. Maybe, just maybe Harry wouldn’t have come across as so disagreeable and overbearing. 

However, at this rate, Y/N was led to believe it was just who he was. An asshole who had somehow tricked the entire planet into believing he was the epitome of the ‘boy next door’ stereotype. 

Sarah, Y/N’s cousin, had called her sometime around July, asking her if she wanted to quarantine with her, her boyfriend, Mitch and a few mates rather than alone in her somewhat dingy apartment. Y/N had immediately jumped at the opportunity. Quarantining by herself had already proved to be somewhat tricky and incredibly depressing. While she loved her charming little abode, she was certainly not prepared to spend the next few months stuck inside it, alone, watching ‘Friends’ reruns with a bottle of wine and only her three potted cacti to keep her company. 

So, naturally, that led her to the doorstep of Sarah and Mitch's huge shared house with butterflies in her stomach, imagining what her new housemates would be like. 

Sarah had told Y/N all about Mitch, Jeff and Harry, exclaiming how funny, kind and welcoming they would be, and well, Y/N was excited, she needed some new friends. After her last break up about a year ago, had lost her a boyfriend and subsequently the mutual friends of his that she thought had become hers too, she felt slightly lonely. For Y/N the chance to cure isolation boredom blues and make some new friends was an offer she wouldn't dream of refusing. 

Upon arrival, Y/N noticed that Sarah's description fit Jeff and Mitch to a tee, but Harry? Well, he barely managed to squeeze into it. When she'd walked through the door, Mitch had immediately offered to take her bags and even offered her some of his favourite tea to help her relax after her relatively stressful journey. Jeff gave her a huge hug and asked what her favourite snacks were so he could add them to the shopping list. And Harry? He sat in silence with his head practically glued to his phone, hardly even sparing a glance in her direction. 

Y/N didn't let this discourage her. She prided herself on being friendly and often easy to get along with and so approached him readily. However, greeting him with a cheerful, "it's nice to meet you!" and her renowned smile had only earned her a grunt and a disinterested look. Maybe he was just having a bad day?

On the drive to Sarah’s house, Y/N had been thinking about how exciting it was to be able to meet him. While she’d never been an avid fan of his music, she wasn’t blind to the enormous impact he had on the industry. He seemed kind and beyond charming, and well, Y/N had a working pair of eyes, she knew how handsome he was. She had only ever heard good things and was excited to get to know the man who had made her cousin's dreams come true. 

However, Harry's blase and borderline rude personality really rubbed her the wrong way. Y/N could understand having a rough day, even she could get a bit grumpy the days leading up to her period, but Harry's impertinence surpassed a simple 'bad day' or two. He was impossible! He would hardly even acknowledge her existence, and on the rare occasion when he did, he was insolent and passive-aggressive. He would nitpick everything Y/N did, from the way she would dress to something as simple as how much soy sauce she had on her sushi! Y/N didn't know how she would survive another week with him, let alone the whole of isolation. 

Maybe loneliness, copious amounts of alcohol and friends reruns would’ve been the better option. 

——

It wasn't that Harry didn't like Y/N, in all honesty, he didn't know her well enough to come to that conclusion. There was just something about her that grated on his nerves. It could possibly be the fact that Sarah had insisted she was his type before he'd even met her. While Harry had countered, unless she looked exactly like the ex he was still very much pining over he doubted it to be true, Sarah had insisted. She showed him picture after picture from their trip to Europe together, pointing out how pretty Y/N's hair looked, or how dazzling her smile was.

While there was a resemblance to the girl on his mind, Harry doubted it was enough to remind him of the heartbreak she had instilled upon him. Alas, Harry was wrong. When Y/N had floated through the door without a care in the world, Harry had frozen. While Y/N did kind of resemble his past girlfriend Elle, it was the way she acted that frustrated Harry more. She had the same air about her, carried herself in the same way that Elle did, with humble confidence and poise.  

Harry hated it. The more he got to know Y/N, the more he realised that she was somehow simultaneously similar and completely different from the girl he was still in love with, and he hated it. She was a constant reminder of what he could no longer have, and he didn't know if he wished Y/N were more like Elle so he could have a part of her back, or if he wished she was a completely different person altogether.

Either way, Harry could hardly hold in the frustration he felt around her, snapping at anything she said and nit-picking her every move. 

While he knew he was acting unreasonably, he barely had a cause to stop it. 

——

Y/N was usually self-confident and relatively sure of herself, but she was also stubborn, and for some reason was bothered by Harry's opinion of her more than she cared to admit. 

So, over the first few days of her staying at the house, Y/N had tried her hardest to get Harry to like her, but her endeavours only seemed to further annoy him. She baked him carrot cake because she'd heard it was his favourite, but with a screwed up nose, Harry had swiped his finger through the icing to taste it and grumbled, "way too sweet," before retreating back to his room. Y/N was embarrassed as Sarah had given her a sympathetic look and insisted "everyone else will love it!" 

When doing her washing, she added Harry's whites with hers and even went so far as to dry and fold them too. But when she woke the next day, the clothes had been taken from the laundry, and Y/N was not given a spare glance.

 Harry had insisted they watch a horror movie during their weekly movie night, and Y/N didn't say a word of opposition, even though she knew she would have nightmares that night. Sarah had even tried to say something on her behalf, but Y/N quickly hushed her, not wanting to cause a scene and have Harry hate her even more than he already did. 

But Y/N's quick agreeance to watch 'Halloween' disagreed with her a lot more than she thought it would. She had hardly slept at all, jumping at the smallest of sounds and debating the probability of a murderous man being able to break into the house. When she turns again for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, only to be met with the glaring '3:30' from the mickey mouse alarm clock she had nearly forgotten to pack, she gives up. 

In an attempt to calm herself down from the numerous haunting images flashing through her mind, Y/N begins her trek to the kitchen. A cool glass of water and perhaps one of the cupcakes Sarah and herself had baked the day before, would surely put her overworked mind at ease. 

As Y/N begins to walk down the stairs, she can't help but imagine behind every door a murderer with a knife, that each step in the pitch black was one closer to her death. The eerie silence of the house full of sleeping people only made her feel worse. 

Scolding herself for ever agreeing to watch the stupid movie in the first place, she turns around to flick on the lights to the hallway and stairway. Feeling slightly more comfortable now that she could see, she walked downstairs only to repeat the process in the kitchen, dining room and living room until the whole house, bar upstairs, was flooded with light.

Standing in the fully lit kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate she had found in the cupboard and munching away at the sweet treat, Y/N finally begins to feel somewhat safe. That is until a dark figure suddenly emerges from the hallway.

 "Harry! What the fuck? You scared the shit out of me," she exclaims while clutching at her rapidly beating chest. With his chestnut curls in a tangled heap upon his head, one sock on and clad in only a white shirt and boxers, he looks slightly worse for wear. "What the fuck are you doing, making such a racket at four in the fucking morning?" His voice sounds strained as if he'd just woken up and his face is screwed in annoyance as he points at the provincial-style clock hanging on the wall for emphasis. 

Y/N hesitates, she knew telling Harry his movie choice had kept her awake would not end well, "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you or anything." At this, he scoffs, "didn't mean to wake me, huh? Turning on every fuckin’ light and slammin’ cupboards will usually do that to a person." 

Now Harry knows he's being mean, can hear the way his accent thickens with annoyance and can see how she flinches with every raised decibel, and it makes him pause some. He realises there’s more than likely a reasonable explanation as to why she’s awake at such an hour. He's a dick, but he's not a bloody monster, and as he sees her eyes well up with tears, he decides his anger can be put on the backburner.

 "Why are you even awake?" At the softened tone in his voice, Y/N seems to visibly relax some but still remains tense. "I, um, I really hate horror movies, and I was scared, and I couldn't sleep." He sighs, and his voice lowers even more, "Is that why all the lights are on?" She nod's sheepishly, "why didn't you say anythin'? You were the first to bloody agree to watch the movie." 

"You already hate me enough, I didn't want to give you another reason!" Harry's not sure why his chest slightly aches at that, because if he's honest, she's right, he doesn't really like her at all. As soon as she’d walked through the door and up the stairs to get sorted in her new room, he'd approached Mitch. He'd even made a proper scene, asking why she had to quarantine with them. Mitch had defended her, pointing out that everyone else liked her perfectly fine so far, which Harry supposes was a part of his problem with her. He had made sure she knew of his distaste too, barely even paying her mind, and only doing so to mock her. 

So why it felt like his heart was cracking just slightly, he'll never know, but it does lead him to walk towards her slowly, "I can't really sleep either, did you want to watch tv with me until you can?" If Harry was truthful, he'd actually been sleeping like a baby before he heard the cupboard doors shut slightly above acceptable volume considering the time. However, the way her mouth pouted somewhat, and her eyes misted as she acknowledged his dislike for her made him feel awful. 

So as he sits on the couch with her, now donned with his own steaming cup of hot chocolate, he leaves the lights on and gives her his favourite blanket to wrap herself in. He sits on the opposite side of the couch and tries his hardest not to fall asleep, so Y/N could feel somewhat protected.

After a few episodes of 'SpongeBob' had played he looks over to the other side of the sofa and sees Y/N fast asleep, snoring with her head tilted at a slightly unnatural angle. He can't help the smile that finds its way onto his face, as he turns off the television and settles himself further into the couch to hopefully catch a few hours of sleep too. 

——

To say Y/N is confused would be an understatement. While she wasn't expecting to wake up to Harry presenting a friendship bracelet and a new found love for her, she was expecting him to at least stop hating her.

She was surprised at his kindness last night. She knows Harry gave her his favourite blanket. Jeff was always griping on movie nights because Harry manages to nab it before Jeff has the chance and although he claimed he couldn't sleep, Harry's croaky voice and dishevelled hair led her to believe he was in fact lying.

She definitely hadn't expected him to offer to watch cartoons with her. She also definitely had not expected to wake in the middle of the night to find herself pressed against him with his arms tightly wrapped around her.

 Y/N briefly considered moving back to her side of the couch, but if she was being entirely truthful, she missed cuddling. It was one of her favourite things about being in a relationship, and ever since her last one had crashed and burned, she missed the simple feeling of being held. So in her sleep-muddled state, she decided to stay put and hope Harry was as avid a cuddler as she was.  

To be honest, after all that, she thought he'd at least start to acknowledge her existence, or at least not act as if it was the bane of his. However, when Y/N awakes the next day, Harry is in the kitchen with Jeff and Sarah, debating on where to start their tour when quarantine ends. He moves animatedly and is clearly laughing and joking about as he usually does with the other occupants of the house. But when she enters, he instantly stops talking and instead puts his head down, seemingly very focused on shovelling his pancakes into his mouth. 

Y/N hopes, with every part of her being, that he didn't wake up feeling disgusted by her unconscious affection, but she knew it was a real possibility. And suddenly it feels like she had taken one step forward and two giant steps back.

So yes, Y/N is understandably confused. 

——

When Harry had woken up overheated, and with a stifling sense of claustrophobia, he was understandably confused. As he opens his eyes, he recognises the living room's shaggy carpet and cream walls; however, it takes him a few seconds to process why he was actually here rather than in his own bedroom.

The pressure against his chest causes him to startle some, and when he looks down to see Y/N still huddled under his favourite blanket but now pressed against him rather than the opposite end of the couch, the feeling doesn't fade but instead escalates.

How did they end up in this position? Harry knew he was a cuddler, any past lover would be able to tell you that, but that was usually with people he... liked? Why the fuck was she on top of him?

He can just see the side of her face, while the other looks to be uncomfortably pressed against him. Her hair no longer resembles the bun she usually goes to sleep with but a nest upon her head, and what looks like dried drool is smeared across the corner of her rosy lips. 

Harry can admit she's cute. In a puppy that's just been kicked kind of way. He feels compelled to brush the strands of hair away from her face and wipe the spit away with the hem of his shirt, but Y/N moving in her sleep draws his focus away. He sees his lanky legs tangled with hers and for the first time notices his arms also wrapped around her, keeping her close. 

While a half-asleep Y/N is clearly trying to change her position, his gangly limbs keep her from doing so. And Harry panics. He should not be cuddling with Y/N of all people. Instantly and as gently as possible, he rolls her off him and stands from the couch, only to hear a muffled groan of opposition from the sleeping girl. 

Harry was confused, to say the least. He knows it's not a big deal. Two, friends? No. Acquaintances? Hm nope, 'roommates?'... had fallen asleep next to each other on the couch and woken up slightly tangled. It wouldn't be that much of an issue if the last person Harry had woken up next to hadn't been the ex-girlfriend he was very much still broken-hearted because of. Don't get him wrong, it had felt nice to be close to someone again, but perhaps that's the reason why Harry begins to panic even more. 

So, Harry folds up the blanket he had been using, walks to the toilet and convinces himself not to think of it again. And it's also for this reason, that Harry can't seem to look Y/N in the eye as she walks into the kitchen. He knows she's looking at him in confusion, and he feels slightly guilty, but what was he supposed to do? Greet her with a cuddle and ask if she'd slept as well as he did? No, Harry would act like nothing had happened, and pray that a problem wouldn't arise from that.

But of course, Harry should have known better. 

——

Y/N was quite the baker. She had worked a few summers in her Aunties little bakery and had loved it, but even with her passion and keen eye for icing cakes, there was only so much sweet treat making she could do. She was more participating in copious amounts of isolation baking to please poor Sarah, who was struggling with boredom, and who also happened to love sweets. 

So, whenever Sarah would run into her room with a new suggestion, or send her a link to a 'totally awesome' muffin recipe, Y/N would simply bite her tongue and help gather the ingredients. They had already managed to make cupcakes, banana bread, chocolate chip cookies and cheesecake. So when a new recipe comes through while Y/N reads her book in front of the pool, she wonders what other baked goods could even possibly exist for them to make. 

Alas, macarons. Y/N sighed and walked to the kitchen, where she knew Sarah would be preparing their ingredients. "Hey bug, ready to bake the best macarons ever?" On the inside, Y/N started dramatically weeping, but on the outside, she exclaims, "sure am! These might be a bit more difficult than anything we've tried though." Sarah scoffs, "oh please, we're up for the challenge." 

It's then Y/N notices Harry sitting at the island bench, and he catches her staring, "what? 'M bored." She only nods in response, not really one for conflict. "Are you helping us cook? We could use an extra hand." Y/N kind of hopes he'd say yes, maybe a bit of cooperative, team bonding would mend whatever weird rift they had between them. 

However, Harry screws up his nose at her suggestion as if what she had said was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. Before he has the chance to snarkily reply to her, Sarah butts in, "Harry actually used to be a baker! Didn't you H." Harry can see Y/N's eyes light up and knows that whatever comes out of her mouth next, he was more than likely going to despise. "I used to work in a bakery too!"

Now, if there was an award for sarcasm, Y/N's sure Harry would probably win it. When he pulls his lips into an over-exaggerated smile and says, "twinnies!" with such derision that it burns, Y/N's smile falls. She didn't know what his problem was. Had it really bothered him that much that they'd accidentally cuddled in their sleep? Who had hurt the poor guy so much that a simple night-time spoon was the be-all or end-all? 

She really hadn't meant it, guessed she'd missed sleeping next to a warm body and naturally gravitated towards him. She liked a good cuddle, for fuck's sake, who didn't? If she could turn back time, she would've stayed in bed, wracked with fear if it meant she wouldn't have to deal with Harry's bullshit.

Rather than responding, Y/N puts her head down and begins to read the instructions Sarah had helpfully printed out. Harry is about to make a snide comment, praying that her baking abilities have improved since the carrot cake she had attempted to make, but he gets distracted by the way the afternoon sun is hitting her skin. 

Was Y/N kind of attractive? For the first time, he notices that while she had similar features to his ex, Y/N was pretty on her own accord. 

While often messy, her hair looked so soft, and her eyes were wide and held a sense of innocence. If Harry looked close enough, he could see the tiny acne spots she hadn't bothered to cover and the small bags under her eyes. He briefly wonders if she'd been getting enough sleep and if he had any of the 'sleepy-time' tea left that had worked so well for him before he realises what he was thinking. 

This was Y/N, not Elle, not some chick he'd been fucking, it was Y/N. Maybe he was just confused about his feelings. That was the first time he'd slept next to someone in a while. And well, Y/N was an admittedly pretty girl, and Harry was an admittedly lonely guy who was attracted to pretty girls…

Yeh, there was nothing for him to worry about. 

Y/N mistakes Harry's staring as a glare and does her best to avoid looking at him. She didn't want him to see the well of tears in her eyes and give him the satisfaction. By now, she knew he had meant to upset her, and he had succeeded. 

It was a shame, he really was an attractive guy. Y/N is fully aware that if she'd seen him at a bar, acting the way he did with Sarah and the guys, she'd be instantly in love. She imagines him at school years ago, he probably would’ve been the guy that everyone developed a crush on at least once, boys and girls alike, and has no doubt he probably knew it too. 

Unfortunately, Y/N had not met him in a way akin to a romantic novel. No, she only knew him as an ass who tended to treat her like the dirt stuck to the treads of his overpriced shoes. The only thing Y/N could do was just try her best to ignore him. 

——

As it turns out, Y/N was right, macarons were a lot harder than anything Sarah, and she had previously tried to make. Y/N was tired, frustrated and too sweaty for simply baking glorified cookies. The macarons had taken so long to make, and worst of all, the first batch had come out of the oven flat and stiff as a board. Sarah had pulled out the tray as Y/N was beginning to wash the bowls with a hesitant, "are they supposed to be flat?" 

Turns out they were not supposed to be flat at all. Y/N tried to hide her distaste as she chewed through one of the shells, but when she saw Sarah's face mirroring hers, she giggled. Harry, who had been sitting at the bench, completing a crossword puzzle, also laughed, "guess you aren't as good at baking as you thought you were." 

Y/N would be offended, but notices he's mainly talking to Sarah, and his jesting tone suggests he's not even acknowledging her. "Here, try one. They aren't that bad," Sarah hands him one and he huffs before taking a bite, "better not poison me. You'll have millions of fans to answer to." 

As he chews, it’s apparent that he's not particularly enjoying it. After a hefty swallow, he tugs at his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as if in deep thought. "These are single-handedly the worst macarons I've ever had in my entire life. And I say that with absolute confidence." 

While Sarah scoffs and laughs, admonishing Harry with a gentle slap on his arm, Y/N is entirely distracted. She had never seen anyone else with the same habit as her ex. Ben would tug at his bottom lip when deep in thought, and there Harry was, exhibiting the exact same habit. She was astonished, and she hates to admit it, but small butterflies form in the pit of her stomach. She always had, for some unknown reason found it an oddly attractive trait.

While others might be attracted to muscles or deep dimples, Y/N found the little quirks of others most captivating. She loved the drunken ramblings and the uncontrollable tears during sad films. She loved watching people discover their favourite song and the way they would sing under their breath. She loved the unmade beds, dust-covered books, and overwatered plants. She loved the way people would stutter on certain words or adopt weird nicknames they had heard in their favourite movies. She loved pet peeves and the stories behind them and the routines that they followed. Y/N had always loved people. She loved the things that made individuals uniquely them, and this quirk that Harry shared with Ben, was no different. 

If he notices her staring, he doesn't draw attention to it, only continues to banter with Sarah, while Y/N stands in the middle of the kitchen, lost in thought. It’s Sarah's voice that draws her out of her reverie, "c'mon Y/N let's try another batch. I want to surprise Mitch for movie night, he loves these things."

——

This movie-night, Y/N wanted to make sure she would be able to sleep at the end of it, and for that reason, horror movies were off the table- much to Harry's dismay. Sarah, Mitch and Jeff, readily agreed, and after some pushing from Jeff and the girls, everyone agreed to watch a rom-com. The question was which one. 

As Sarah scrolls through the movie selections, 'Clueless' catches Y/N’s eye, and she immediately yells out the suggestion with vivid excitement and is promptly met with... silence. "Guys? Clueless is icon-" Y/N starts, only to be interrupted by none other than Harry, "'s a shit movie, we aren't watching it." Before Y/N can object, Sarah comes to her defence, "oi H, don't be an asshole. We know it was Elle's favourite, don't need to take it out on poor Y/N."

While Y/N prides herself on being understanding and kind, she knows she can be a tad oblivious to what's going on around her at times. She had tried to pick up on it when she noticed it and improve because it had indeed gotten her into some awful situations. And if only Y/N had paid a bit more attention to the situation around her, she may not have spat out her next words. She may have noticed Harry's misty eyes and pursed lips, Sarah's empathetic gaze towards him, Mitch's awkward glance in Harry's direction and Jeff's head buried in his hands. Alas, she didn't.

 "Who's Elle?"  

Silence. Y/N is met with nothing but silence. After a while, she can vaguely hear Jeff letting out the breath of air he had clearly been holding in, and Mitch's mumbled "oh god" under his breath, but she was much too focused on Harry's gaze that was now piercing into hers. "None of your business," he gets out through gritted teeth. 

Y/N is somewhat taken aback, she can clearly see that whoever Elle was, she was a sensitive topic for Harry and immediately tries to backtrack. "Oh, um I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" For the second time that night, Harry interrupts her. "Does anyone want popcorn? We forgot to get some." He stands from the couch, now avoiding Y/N's gaze altogether, and she looks around the room to try and gauge the situation. 

The only one in the room paying her any notice is Sarah, who shares the same empathetic look with her that she had given Harry not two minutes ago. Sarah mouths ‘ex-girlfriend' at Y/N, and it's safe to say she feels awful. While she didn't particularly like Harry, she would never intentionally hurt anyone, and she makes the snap decision to follow him, in order to apologise to him properly. 

When she enters the kitchen, Harry is leaning on the counter facing away from her. His shoulders seem tense, and his hair is dishevelled as if he'd been continuously running his fingers through it.

"Harry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bring up such a sensitive topic." At her voice, Harry's shoulders seem to hunch further, and he turns around while taking a deep breath, "just drop it yeah? Think you've done enough." 

Y/N didn't think that was fair. She really hadn't known, and if she had, she wouldn't have even thought of mentioning it. "I didn't know Harry. I won't bring her up again." Y/N had grown familiar with the way Harry's accent thickened sometimes. It happened when he was tired or bored. It was most frequently when he was angry, which seemed to be a common occurrence when she was concerned, and now was no exception. "No shit, stop stickin' your nose into other people's business." 

In any other circumstance, Harry might have noticed the way Y/N's eyes instantly started to water, or how she'd retreated and hunched slightly into herself in submission. Harry had noted she was a sensitive little thing, and while he often tried to get on her nerves, when he saw her nose twitch and eyes mist up, he knew to back off. But currently, he could only see red, and the fact Y/N had made no attempt to move, made his fury run even more rampant through his veins. “Fuck off Y/N, I'm not kiddin'. Go back to the living room." 

"But Harry, I-" Y/N attempts to get out, but Harry's raised voice causes her to immediately stop. "I said, fuck off!" At that, Y/N snaps. For weeks, she had been doing nothing but try to please Harry, but there was just no pleasing him. He was arrogant, apathetic to everyone around him, pretentious, stubborn and worst of all, just plain rude. 

"You're a real asshole, you know that. I understand you're upset, and I'm sorry I caused it, but you don't need to treat me like shit,” she sniffles. “I have tried so fucking hard to get on your good side, but I'm done trying. It's time for you to wake up and realise not everyone is going to hurt you like precious Elle clearly did." Y/N expects Harry to do many different things, she prepares for him to begin screaming, perhaps start crying? She briefly wonders if he would go so far as to push her out of the way and storm out of the room. 

Although, one prospect she didn’t consider was for him to start laughing. "Oh Jesus pet, you think you're that special? You think you can even begin to be compared to her? Think I'm scared you'll.. what? Break my heart?" As he continued to speak, the sound of his voice grew as did his rage. The veins on the side of his neck only became more pronounced, and the crease in his brow caused his whole face to contort. 

The increase in volume had caused an audience to gather. Jeff, Sarah and Mitch stand in the kitchen entrance helplessly watching the two rip into each other. Mitch is the first to step in, "Harry c'mon, that's enough." 

"Fuck off Mitch, stay out of it." He turns back to Y/N, "please, sweetheart, save yourself the heartbreak. Have you ever considered that maybe I just don't like you? You're fucking annoying, and your pathetic attempts to get me to like you are even more so. What were you hoping would come from it? I'd ignore the fact you grate on my nerves 24/7 and pay you a bit of attention? Maybe even get you off once or twice? Is that it?"

Sarah is next to attempt to break up the fight, "Y/N don't bother, Harry's just upset."

It took a lot to get Y/N mad. She was usually calm, maybe a bit emotional, but very rarely did she raise her voice. But Harry, with his constant grouching and aggressive nature, had pushed her well and truly past that point. "Save it, Sarah. Are you fucking serious Harry? I was just trying to be a nice person. I'm not sure how to tell you this, but not everybody is trying to get into your pants. Guess you'd be so used to girls throwing themselves at you until they have a fucking conversation with you and see what a dick you actually are." 

He snarls at that, "trust me pet, they're proper gaggin' for it." Y/N scrunches her nose in disgust, "You're fucking disgus-" The quietest of the group is the next to interrupt. "Oh for fucks sake, both of you, shut up!" 

Jeff was usually quietly spoken and hardly ever lost his temper, he was similar to Y/N in that regard. As Harry's manager, he had formed a close relationship with the green-eyed boy over the past few years, and not once had Harry ever heard Jeff raise his voice. So when Jeff yells, even Harry knows it's time to back off. He stays quiet and instead gives Y/N one last lingering glare before retreating upstairs to the safety of his room. 

Y/N can't help but burst into tears. She hated conflict, and would usually avoid it at all costs, but Harry deserved to be put in his place a bit. Immediately, Sarah is at her side, attempting to console her, but it only makes her cry harder. Y/N feels pathetic, she hated crying in front of people, and Jeff and Mitch's lost stares were not helping the situation. Sarah follows Y/N's eye line, "can you both get out for a bit?" Both boys all but run out of the kitchen. Now that they were alone, Y/N allows herself to really cry, hoping a good sobbing session would clear her thoughts and emotions from the situation. 

——

Harry was sad. He was not going to say he was always sad, because, in actual fact, Harry was happy a lot of the time. He could admit he had a good life, filled with love, happiness and fun, but there were some times when joy felt more like a mirage to him, something unattainable. 

And maybe it just wasn’t for him, maybe true happiness wasn’t in his cards. 

He was someone who quickly became obsessed, found solace and comfort in certain things. Sometimes so much so it became a flaw, something he felt he would die if he lived without, and one of those was Elle. 

It used to be his mum, then music, then Niall, then Mitch, then Elle and then... nothing. Harry hadn’t found something or someone he felt he could rely on entirely since her. It seemed now he only had himself, and in his mind, that was a potentially dangerous thing. His mum was miles away, Mitch found his own solace with Sarah, Elle had left him, and Harry had never felt so alone. 

Isolation made it worse, he couldn’t distract himself with performing anymore, with drinking his body weight in alcohol or finding pretty girls who looked eerily similar to his ex, to spend a few hours with. So often he found himself uncontrollably crying, alone in bed. Harry never felt shame in crying, but there was something particularly mortifying about being loved by millions of people worldwide, yet still sobbing into his pillow because his girlfriend had broken up with him. Not only dumped him but had cheated on, destroyed him and ripped his heart into little shreds. 

And that’s where Harry was now. Lying in bed, his pillowcase wet with tears, eyes stinging and red, his cheeks stained and raw from his constant rubbing at them, and his back aching from the occasional sob pulling at the already taut muscles. 

Harry just needed a hug. He needed someone to tell him it was okay, that things would work out because at this point he honestly didn’t know himself. 

——

The next few days in the house are hell. Not just for Harry and Y/N but for everyone stuck isolating in the space. Y/N and Harry refused to talk to each other, only sharing pointed glares. Harry does all he can to piss her off, without ever having to say a word. While out for his regular morning walk to buy coffee, he purposely 'forgets' Y/N's. When it was his night to cook, he plays the English rap that he knew she hated at full volume, while making prawn pasta. Which really wouldn't have been an issue, if Y/N wasn't bloody allergic to seafood. While he claimed to not know, Y/N saw through him. Just the week before she had refused to eat lunch when Jeff had made tuna sandwiches and had clearly explained why. 

Y/N tried not to let it bother her and instead did everything she could to avoid him. When he'd come home with everyone's regular coffee order but hers, she exclaimed she "preferred homemade!" and brewed her own cup. She put in headphones and shut her door in an attempt to drown out the crap he called music. And when Harry had placed a massive bowl of steaming pasta that she couldn't fucking eat in front of her, Y/N smiled and ordered pizza instead. 

Mitch struggled through the week, staying as quiet as he usually was. If he was honest, he wished he was just quarantining with Sarah. He loved Harry but also knew that he could be a dick when he wanted to be. So despite Harry's constant prodding for him to join in on shit-talking Y/N, Mitch tried to stay out of it. 

Sarah spent the days keeping Y/N company. She felt slightly guilty that she had invited her to spend isolation stuck in a house with what happened to be the only person Sarah had ever met, who hated Y/N. Instead, she listened to her rant when Harry couldn't overhear. She baked cookies with her, and they sang shitty pop music at the top of their lungs whenever Harry decided to blast his music.  

Once again, Jeff surprised everyone. While they were used to his calming and genuine presence by now, no one expected him to play peacekeeper. Harry supposes he should've seen it coming, being his manager for four years, meant the guy had to have some kind of problem-solving skills. So Harry promptly nicknames Jeff, 'Switzerland' and despite his denials, Harry knew Jeff secretly loved it. 

Jeff spends the next few days quietly talking to all the other house members like some sort of pseudo spy. And finally, after three long days of combat, by some miracle, convinces both Harry and Y/N to talk out their issues and apologise. 

At first, both Y/N and Jeff agreed he should be in the room to mediate, but upon the request of Harry, he was waiting just outside the door, waiting for any sign of a fight, to run in and play referee. 

So that led them here, with Harry sitting on one end of the couch, oozing with confidence while actually being a mess on the inside, and Y/N on the other, nervously picking at the hem of her jumper. 

Harry is the first to speak, "look Y/N I'm sorry. You were right, Elle's a bit of a sore spot for me, and I overreacted." She nods in acknowledgement before speaking herself, "yeh, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have pried like I did.” He nods along, still somewhat convinced he wasn’t entirely in the wrong. 

It’s the next question that makes Harry’s blood turn cold, “I just… I just need to ask why? What did I do for you to not like me? It started before last night. Before I mentioned… her.” Y/N scoots around the heartbreaker’s name.  

She watches as Harry bites his lip in what looked like deliberation before he replies, a deep sigh sitting on his pretty lips. “I don’t know. I know that’s a shitty thing to say, I treated you like shit for weeks, but it’s true. I just don’t know.” 

Y/N’s taken aback. Weeks of torture, hatred and tears and he couldn’t even tell her why he’d acted the way he did. “Harry, you can’t be serious. There must be something! You... you were so mean.” 

Y/N watches as tears well in his eyes, and she briefly wonders if she shouldn’t have pushed the topic. “I don’t know, I don’t fuckin’ know.” He lashes out, once again, his anger getting the best of him. 

Y/N throws her hands up in defeat, “I don’t know what you want from me, Harry. I’m trying here I really am, but you won’t give me anything. What do you want me to do?” 

“I know you are,” he all but chokes out. Harry didn’t know how to express himself, a million thoughts were running rampant through his mind, and he felt like if he were to try and speak, he’d have to spend hours detangling each thought from the other like shitty Christmas lights. He takes another deep sigh. He had to try, he knew it wasn’t fair to Y/N. And well, Harry wasn’t exactly happy either, maybe it would help to tell someone how he felt. 

“It’s just when I look at you... I see her. I see her in the clothes you wear and the way you laugh. You look the same for fucks sake, give me the same doe-eyed look and.. she never apologised. Never said a word, I found her in bed with my… with my best mate, and she just fucking left,” he cries out. “And when I first saw you, and you gave me that fuckin’ look I just... I just got so angry.” Harry’s face briefly scrunches in frustration, but it’s quickly overcome with grief. 

He begins to cry harder, his shoulders racking with sobs and Y/N doesn’t know what to do. She sits helplessly, watching the man she very much despised breaking down in front of her, crying previously unshed tears with his head in his hands. 

What was she supposed to do? She wasn’t going to say it was alright because it wasn’t. But god, he looks so pitiful, and Y/N knows what it’s like to have a shitty ex. She knows how painful it is to see them again after they’ve just broken your heart, knows how hard it can be to feel completely, totally and 100% betrayed by someone you loved. 

It wasn’t okay, and Y/N doesn’t know if it ever will be, but seeing Harry, the stubborn, prideful man she’d come to know, breaking down in front of her, well Y/N can hardly stand it. 

So she does the first thing she can think of, the one thing that made her feel better after her own breakup. 

She hugs him. 

She feels him tense up in her arms and for a brief second, Y/N wonders if he’s going to push her away, but instead, he relaxes. Even goes so far as to push into her slightly, allowing himself to rest his head against her chest, with her arms around him like a tantrum-throwing toddler. 

Harry can’t remember the last time he was hugged. Maybe by his mum before the pandemic, probably in a similar situation, crying over Elle in a pathetic attempt to find comfort in anything that wasn’t her arms. 

Harry had returned to LA to record three songs, “it would be two to three weeks max,” Jeff had assured him. But now he was fucking stuck here, in the same place he lived with her, heartbroken in a house with people he loved, but unfortunately would never talk about Elle with. 

Harry missed London. He missed him mum, his sister, the pubs and the tube. He missed hanging out with more mates than he could count, his little writing studio and his cat. Harry missed his own bedroom, his candles that he forgot to pack and his own record collection. Harry missed walking to the little cafe a few streets from his house, he missed the snow. 

But Harry especially missed Elle. 

He missed her cuddles and her sweet little kisses. He missed the way her nose scrunched when he tried to kiss her in public. He missed her laugh and her awful cooking. He missed her book recommendations and her screaming to pop music on the radio. Fuck, he even missed her screaming at him. 

And what a way to make his longing worse, being stuck with the dead ringer of his ex-girlfriend, only to find she was nothing like Elle, which Harry almost hated more. 

Y/N wouldn’t yell at him when he got angry but rather cry, her tears always sending a sharp pain to his chest. And Y/N didn’t pretend nothing worried her or upset her, she was open and honest. When Harry hurt her, he knew, not because she ignored him or called him a prat. No, he knew because she told him, even if it was with tears streaming down her face and a few “assholes” mixed in there. Y/N didn’t call Harry’s hobbies stupid, she liked them too, even had her own silly ones herself. She enjoyed baking, doing puzzles, and reading out loud to herself. She liked Disney movies and hated horror and loved cider but not beer. 

And Harry found himself not hating her at all, but rather himself. Because somehow, within his heartbreak, he had managed to become attracted to someone who looked and acted exactly like his ex on the surface but was someone completely different in every other way. He couldn’t treat her like Elle, couldn’t pretend she’d hurt him just as bad, and he knew that.

No, Y/N was a completely new risk and a new potential heartbreak. Harry was terrified, and this new territory that at first felt so familiar, made his chest ache and his tummy flutter, so he avoided it altogether. Pushed her away before anything could even happen at all, for his own good, to protect a heart that couldn’t take being broken again.

The two of them sat there for what felt like hours. Until Harry’s sobs slowed themselves down, and he was only shivering and sniffling quietly. Y/N continued to hold him, it seemed like he just really needed to be held.

Elle had clearly broken his heart, and Y/N knew that a part of healing was letting this anger and emotion run rampant. So she stayed put, allowing him to just sit in the sadness, and allow himself to feel a little bit of hope that everything would work out eventually. 

“It’s okay Harry. It’s going to be okay.” 

——

Y/N wasn’t sure this was a good idea. How could it be? Not even a few days ago, she and Harry couldn’t stand being in the same room as each other, and now they were alone in a car, on their way to the grocery store. It all felt too domestic.

But this was Harry, and she definitely shouldn’t be worried about the state of her car, or how to subtly remove the McDonalds wrapping on the floor in front of his feet. Just as Harry, after being handed the aux cord, probably shouldn’t have spent half the journey wondering if she liked the song that was playing and looking out of the corner of his eye to judge whether he should skip it or not. 

But here they were, walking on eggshells around each other. Hoping they both wouldn’t do something to accidentally piss off the other. 

If you’d told Harry a week ago that he would be on the way to the grocery store with Y/N by his side, he probably would’ve laughed and faked a gag. But Harry was actually the one who had suggested the trip, much to the surprise of not only Y/N but the rest of the housemates. 

They hadn’t exactly addressed his breakdown, but it seemed they’d both come to a mutual understanding to try and put the past behind them. Harry considered himself lucky, he knew he had caused and furthered the rift in their friendship, and it was because of this he knew he had to put more effort into building the trust between them back up. 

So, when Y/N was recounting the ingredients for the dinner she was planning on making, Harry had asked if she’d just come to save him remembering the long list. Y/N’s first thought was she could probably just write it down for him before she realised he was actually trying to be nice. And that was more than she could say for the last month of her living with him, so she agreed.

The grocery store was busy, filled with impatient mothers and fun-drunk teens, and Y/N was having trouble pushing the cart through the throngs of people. Harry was walking ahead of her, too preoccupied with his list (and she supposes himself) to notice her struggle and she’s never been one to ask for help. So instead tries her best to avoid the ankles of other shoppers and attempts to keep up with the cracking pace Harry had set. 

It’s only when he turns around to find her ten feet behind him, does Harry acknowledge her, his eyebrows pinched in annoyance, “what’s taking you so bloody long?” To say Y/N was taken aback would be an understatement. After everything, he’d manage to stay friendly for what, half a day?

“Excuse me? Doing so well at being friendly Harry, might want to pull it back, before I get the wrong impression.” 

Maybe it was Y/N’s sarcastic words that pulled Harry back, or perhaps he realised himself, but he really hadn't meant to be rude. At first, it was more of a joke, but he guessed that he’d become so accustomed to being snarky with Y/N, it’d come out a lot more maliciously than he’d intended.

“Fuck, what? No- I didn’t mean it like that. I was tryin’ to joke, but it came out wron- Fuck! I’m sorry, okay?” Somewhere in the middle of Harry’s rambling, Y/N starts to giggle. While she had taken it the wrong way, she was mature enough to understand she’d simply interpreted it wrong. 

“Harry relax, look like you're about to pass out. Sorry I took it the wrong way,” she shrugs, “now, where are the pickles? I’ve been craving them for weeks.” Harry’s slightly taken aback, he’d never met someone who could put an extremely valid argument behind them with such ease. 

Harry wouldn’t have blamed Y/N if she’d gotten angry with him, stomped her feet, made a fuss and yelled in his face, after all, he had spoken to her like a prick. But just like that, she had defused the argument and made Harry feel better instantly, even though he was in the wrong. Nonetheless, he follows her through the isles, making sure to help her steer the trolley when the crowd was busiest. 

Harry had actually started to enjoy himself on this trip, he wasn’t going to lie. Y/N had an easy going way about her that he hadn’t really bothered to notice before. It made it easy to chat about nonsensical things, including Harry’s first dog and his preferred brand of nail polish while they peruse the aisles. He was doing all he could to make sure the rest of the trip didn’t contain any silly arguments like the one that had almost sparked just ten minutes before, and he believes he was doing a good job. 

After stopping by the fruit aisle for some cherries (they were in season, and there was no way Y/N was missing out on the tiny period they were in season for, even if they were ridiculously overpriced,) they reach the aisle that contains pickles. Finally, Y/N had been craving them for weeks, and nothing could stop her now, not even the fact that they were on the top shelf. Y/N’s brows pinch in annoyance, who put pickles that high up anyway? 

She halfheartedly sticks her hand in the air, her fingers barely brushing against the bottom of the jar before looking behind her, watching Harry laughing at her struggle. “Are you going to help me or just keep that smug smile on your face?” 

This makes Harry’s smirk upturn even more, turning into a full boyish grin, dimples and all. “Say please sweetheart, and I might just consider it.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, “please,” and although it is sarcastic and hardly genuine Harry takes it, walking over and reaching for the last jar of pickles. 

What happens next could be blamed on many different factors; the humidity in the supermarket being higher than the average store, it could be blamed on Harry’s sweaty fingers or maybe even the worker who decided to put them on the top shelf in the first place. 

Whatever the fault, Harry grabs the container and almost delivers it safely to the cart, until it slips from his grip and instead ends in a puddle of shattered glass, stray pickles and dripping juice. And of fucking course it’s the last jar, and of fucking course it’s Harry who drops it, right in front of the girl who’s been craving them for so long. 

Harry is almost scared to look up at Y/N’s face, knowing he was more than likely going to be met with a pouting, red, furious mix. She really had been talking about the fucking pickles for weeks, and after both Jeff and Sarah had forgotten to get them in the last two shopping trips, he can imagine her desperation.

It’s as if time was working in slow motion, Harry sees the residue pickle juice dripping from the handle of the shopping trolley, can feel his sock getting progressively wetter as the liquid seeps into his canvas sneaker. And Harry immediately starts to apologise, “fuck I’m so sorr-“ but is interrupted by Y/N manically laughing. Well, he had expected a lot of different reactions, but he hadn’t expected… laughter?

“How did that even happen,” she gets out through her laughter, “you’re an idiot!” Harry can’t help but join in. He was covered in pickle juice, and in hindsight, the situation was pretty funny. “Oi, ‘s not my fault the jar was more slippery than the average.” This only makes Y/N cackle harder, holding her stomach as though it was hurting. 

“Hold on, I’ll get something to clean it up.” As Harry watches Y/N walk away, probably to find a worker, he can’t help but think again how different Y/N was from Elle. Harry distinctly remembers shopping with her one Christmas and accidentally dropping the last box of red and white candy canes (what can he say, he can be a right clutz.) She had been shaking with fury, voice dripping with poison as she asked Harry why he was “such a fucking idiot?” He guesses she was stressed because of the time of the year, but Harry had always hated her vicious temper, which Y/N apparently lacked. 

Harry had only really seen Y/N angry or upset until now, but he could safely assume that was of his own doing. When they were getting along, she seemed to make him feel better without even trying. She could laugh despite herself, and poke fun at Harry without feeling like she was actually reprimanding him for something, and Harry, well he hadn’t really experienced that before.

Harry sees Y/N returning, with what looks to be a less than impressed worker following behind her. That is until she sees Harry standing there in all his six-foot glory, covered in pickle juice. 

She seemed to be around 20, with blonde hair braided into two plaits that sat around her neck. She had bright green eyes, and if she was a little older, Harry probably would have said she was cute. And by the looks of it, she would’ve revelled in such treatment, when she approaches Harry with a, “I’m so sorry, Mr Styles!” Harry waves off the apology, he had been the one to drop the pickles anyway. “No worries love, ‘m sorry bout’ the mess.” 

It’s like her eyes brighten two shades at the pet name as she begins to sweep up the broken glass, blushing as she does, “oh don’t even worry! Can see you made a mess of yourself as well.” Y/N can’t help but laugh, was she actually trying to flirt with a pickle stained Harry? He catches Y/N laughing behind the worker and grins, “sure did. I’m a bit of a clutz sometimes.” 

Now, Harry knew that his personality was very likeable, he was easy to talk to, and he wasn’t exactly bad to look at, so he was somewhat used to casual flirting. Who was he to pull up someone trying to shoot their shot? Usually, he preferred to go along with it, stay polite and at the end of the interaction, cut the conversation before anything serious came of it. And the girl (Hannah, according to her name tag) standing in front of him, cleaning his mess, was no exception. 

“Can see that,” she winks. Actually, fucking winks and Harry can’t help but feel slightly smug, his presumption had clearly been correct. He doesn’t see the harm in playing along, “oh can you? Thought customer service was all about being nice to the customer,” he teases lightly. Hannah giggles flirtatiously and if Harry thought she was blushing before, his effect on her is multiplied. “I’m nice, I promise!” 

Y/N almost gags, she hated PDA at the best of times, but to see them both drooling over each other made her feel sick to her stomach. Harry’s smooth reply does nothing to quell her nausea, “mhm, I bet.” Y/N would literally rather walk home than be subjected to this torture any longer. “Okay! Thanks again for being so understanding, c’mon Harry, we better get going.” 

Harry thanks the server again, giving her a small wave and a cheeky grin as he follows Y/N to the counter to check out their items. “Really, Harry? She looked about 15 years younger than you.” Harry scoffs, “fifteen years?! You think she was twelve, do you? How old do you think I am?” 

Y/N doesn’t hesitate to respond, “old enough to know better than to flirt with someone so young.” 

He couldn’t believe she was pulling this. Harry was a flirty person naturally! He never meant anything by it, and very well knew when it was appropriate and when it definitely wasn’t. He didn’t see how a little friendly conversation could hurt in this situation. “Oh please, she was at least twenty, and I was hardly flirtin’” As the worker is scanning their items, Y/N is packing them into the reusable shopping bags. “Still gross.” 

Was Y/N jealous? For a second, Harry felt the frustration swim through his veins like poison, but the knowledge of Y/N potentially acting out of envy acts as an antidote. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous lovey.” It was Y/N’s turn to scoff. If she’s honest, she’s not sure why the sight of Harry flirting with the server annoyed her so much. She was young, but Harry was right, she was very clearly of age and also stunning. 

Maybe it was the fact she hadn’t acknowledged Y/N with more than an eye roll but readily grovelled at Harry’s feet. It could’ve been leftover frustration from the pickles she would have to hold out from for another week. Or maybe it was that she didn’t like him calling someone else ‘love.’ Perhaps she was just frustrated that it had taken her months for Harry to be civil with her, but had taken ‘Hannah’ all but five minutes. Whatever the reason, she didn’t like the pit in her stomach or the tingling in the tips of her fingers. “Not a chance, Harry.” 

Harry just smiled in response, while Y/N felt waves of negative emotions rolling through her, he felt butterflies erupting from the pit of his tummy, a small fluttering reaching all the way to his heart. Harry was ready to admit, Y/N’s jealousy made him happy. He was a narcissist; that he knew, and a pretty girl getting frustrated that his attention wasn’t purely focused on her, made his vain little heart soar. 

This little shopping expedition had given both of them huge revelations. Harry realised, the thought of Y/N being jealous over him made him extremely happy, and maybe even gave him some new spank bank material? Y/N realised that while she and Harry could be civil, it didn’t mean they didn’t know the exact places to poke and prod at each other to cause a reaction. 

——

It was Y/N's turn to pick a card, and although she'd initially been hesitant to play this game, she could admit she was having fun. When Harry had first pulled out 'Truth, Dare or Drink,' her first instinct was to ridicule him and say, "I didn't realise we were still in eighth grade," but she bit her tongue. After the supermarket, she still felt like she was continually filtering everything she said, worried a single word may be the negative turning point for their relationship. 

And well, after a few rounds, Y/N realised the game was much too risky for a bunch of eighth-graders and found some questions too intrusive even for her adult self to answer. However, with the help of at least half a bottle of chardonnay, she found herself managing just fine. Jeff had called it a night a few rounds ago, claiming he was "getting too old for this shit," but it didn't stop the rest of the group from playing.  

"Okay, ask the player to your left what their favourite sex position is. If they can't answer- both of you drink four sips." Immediately, Y/N turns to Sarah, who happens to be sitting on her left and also happens to be bright red. With a quick, "come on babe, all friends here," from Harry, Sarah buries her head in her hands before mumbling, "from behind." The answer causes an eruption of giggles and hollers from the very tipsy group and a sly smirk from Mitch, making Y/N laugh harder. 

"Alright shut up you lot," Sarah grumbles before picking up her own card. "Dare one player to share their best and worst hookup, or both of you finish your drinks. Okay, well the only one mean enough to name and shame would be Harry, so off you go H." This is met with a disgruntled, "oi" from the man in question and a casual "not wrong," from Mitch. While Harry huffs, he seems to have no issue and responds immediately, almost like he had the answer on the tip of his tongue. 

"Best was Elle, obviously. And worst, um," he deliberates for a few seconds before continuing, "was this guy I met in Brazil, he was awful! Didn't even prep my poor arse, just went straight in for the kill. Was scarred for months." He's met with roaring laughter, and at first, he tries to look pissed but ends up giggling along with them. While his poor bum really had taken a beating that night, in hindsight it was a funny sex horror story for a drunken night. "C'mon Mitchy boy, your turn." 

Mitch picks up the card and immediately scoffs, "This one's to all players, take two sips if you have ever been attracted to someone else currently playing this game." Unsurprisingly both Mitch and Sarah drink, sending cheeky winks over their cups to each other. But what shocks every player at the table is both Y/N and Harry lifting their glasses. They make eye contact with each other as they are sipping and Harry raises a questioning eyebrow towards her. 

Y/N quickly looks over to Sarah, to see her sitting with her own bewildered look, glancing between them. She had known Y/N enjoyed Harry's music, but maybe didn't know how much she also fancied him- that is until she had a conversation with him. 

"So you've either had the hots for me, my girlfriend or the chick you hate, nice H," a very inebriated Mitch says with a laugh. If Y/N hadn't already been watching him, she might have missed the flash of guilt that flickers through Harry's eyes. He looks over at her with an apologetic look, "I never said I hated-" 

"It's fine, Harry. Just pick a card, it's your turn." Y/N interrupts him, she wasn’t going to lie and say that it didn’t sting. However, while she knew they'd come to a newfound understanding, Y/N was well aware that it had initially come from Harry's resentment of her. He sighs but picks up a card anyway, pausing some, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks, before reading it aloud. "Uh... give the person to your left a hickey, or finish your drink." At first, Y/N laughs until she realises that the person sitting to his left would be her. 

In an attempt to lighten the situation, Y/N spits out, "go on, start drinking then." Mitch and Sarah start to laugh, "I could've called that one," Sarah chuckles, but Harry looks rather unimpressed. While she actually didn't care if Harry were to give her a hickey, (let's be real he was a dick, but a hot one at that!) she knew he would be thoroughly put out by it. They had become civil, not ‘drunkenly-give-one-another-a-hickey’ level friends.

"I'm not the one with the problem. I doubt he'd wanna kiss on the girl he hates." Y/N had meant it to be a joke, she really had! But the underlying biting tone would be almost impossible to miss. She was definitely playing with fire here, knowing Harry could snap at any moment. She watches as Harry's nostrils flare slightly before he bites back, "no problem here, you're just scared you'd enjoy it too much sweetheart." At that Y/N scoffs, his arrogance never ceased to amaze her, "oh please, don't give yourself so much credit, Harry."  

He laughs, "are you saying you wouldn't?"

"Almost certain of it," she quickly retaliates. Now, Harry knew he was a dick. He knew he could be impatient and rude. Was aware of his short temper and sometimes biting passive-aggressiveness. Had been well informed of his bad habit of sometimes oversharing and even bragging too much. Even knew how annoying his constant discussion of the superiority of salads to veggies could get on the nerves of those around him. 

But the one thing Harry knew for sure, was that he was good at fucking. He loved to see the person he was with, shaking with pleasure below him. Thoroughly enjoyed giving his partner everything he had, to hear them screaming his name with their eyes rolled back in pleasure. Harry liked having sex, and on account of others, Harry was fucking good at it. So Y/N sitting there, doubting he could make her feel all amazing and jittery, probably pissed him off more than it should have. 

"Fucking c' mere then." While Harry had merely said that in the heat of the moment (and possibly to get a rise out of Y/N) he was beyond shocked when she actually got up and stood before him. "I'm here. Now what smartass?" His jaw ticks and he raises an eyebrow, silently questioning Y/N's challenge. Did she really want to get involved in this? Surely she knew Harry would come out victorious. Apparently not, because she crosses her arms and scoffs, "knew you were all talk." 

Now Y/N doesn't want to admit she's intimidated because god this was Harry she was thinking about. However, when he grips her arms, flips her around and pushes her back into the chair he was just occupying, Y/N can't exactly say she's fine and dandy. 

Harry was much taller than her when they were both standing up, but with her sitting down, he towers above her, and she can't help but feel childlike and demure. His shit-eating grin only grows when he sees that, and he slowly bends down until his cologne infiltrates Y/N's nostrils and fills her head with a fog she can't quite get rid of. "What was that, darling?" 

Y/N is willing herself to say anything, literally anything that wouldn't fuel his already raging ego. If she's honest the barely mumbled, "um, nothing," doesn't really cut it, but what was she to do? Before she'd met Harry, Y/N probably would've considered his looks to be something akin to her ‘dream guy.' So, when he places his hands on each armrest beside her, essentially trapping her, it doesn't exactly help to calm her nerves. Harry oozed sex, and if the look in his eye was anything to go off, he knew it. 

As his face becomes level with hers, Y/N can smell the sweet apple cider he had been drinking and can feel the bottom of his unbuttoned shirt brushing against the tops of her thighs. And for the second time that month, Y/N wonders if she should move away from the compromising position she and Harry had found themselves in, but she once again decides against it. Harry places his hand against the side of her neck, hooking his thumb under her jaw. He encourages her to move her head further to the side with some gentle pressure, which she happily obliges to. 

Y/N can't help but inhale sharply when she feels his slightly chilled lips gently brush against her earlobe, before placing a tender kiss behind her ear. "Is this okay?" If Y/N were in a better headspace, she might have tried to play this whole thing off with an indifferent nod. Instead, she feels herself nodding rapidly, and takes a moment to curse herself as she feels Harry's lips curl into a grin at her eagerness. 

Harry allows his lips to run down the side of Y/N's neck so lightly he knew it must be tickling her. Once he reaches her collarbone, he places a quick peck against it before once again trailing his lips up her soft skin, leaving light kisses in his wake. Y/N's breathing stops as she feels Harry's tongue touching her skin as he begins his ascent, leaving a chilling trail that sends shivers through her whole body. 

She feels herself slipping into a hazy state, in which all control was given to Harry, and while her first instinct is to break it, her second is to bask in it. Her decision is hastily rewarded when Harry starts to suction his lips against her. 

Y/N actively silences the whimper that arises from her throat as Harry continues to bruise the skin he kisses, and she briefly wonders if he had heard the beginnings of her mewl as he chuckles, sending a gust of cold hair down her neck. Harry gently bites down on Y/N's throat, which causes a small sting, the aftershocks travelling all the way down to her toes. But his tongue laving over the mark works to quickly soothe the ache. 

While she felt as if she had sat feeling the effect of Harry's mouth for hours, it had only been about ten seconds in reality. But the familiar pull in Y/N's lower stomach screams at her to ignore time, grab his shirt and push her mouth against his. However, the cough heard from behind her, quells these dirtier thoughts almost immediately. And just like that, as quickly as it had come, the pleasuring warmth Harry provided was gone. 

Y/N struggles to flutter her eyes back open, that she hadn't realised had even closed in the first place. 

Well, she wasn't expecting that, and while she assumed Harry would feel the same, his deep smirk tells her something different. He looks at her with a hunger in his eyes, and she briefly wonders if he felt the same pull towards her. Y/N was fighting the urge to drag him to the nearest bedroom and instead clears her throat and looks behind her to assess Mitch and Sarah's reactions. 

Safe to say, they were as shocked as she was, with gaping mouths and wide eyes, everyone sits in silence for what feels like far too long. Y/N was embarrassed. Usually, she hated PDA, yet she'd just let Harry suck on her neck like some kind of B-grade vampire in front of her cousin and her boyfriend. 

Y/N stands back up to move around to her own chair, but with her head down, she misses Harry reaching to brush his knuckles against her own, but only feels the comforting touch. Harry watches as she refuses to meet his eye, and while he enjoyed himself, he hoped he hadn't gone too far with her. But when Sarah grabs her head and pulls it to the side to see the blooming mark on Y/N's skin, Harry can't help but smirk and feel slightly proud. Y/N had said she was okay with him touching her, maybe she was just flustered, and if her bright red cheeks were anything to go by, that's Harry's safest guess. "Jesus H, you really did a number on her." 

Y/N refused to acknowledge the effect Harry had instilled upon her, but she can feel her cheeks radiating a cherry-red heat, and she can only pray no one else notices. "Uh, it's my turn," she manages to choke out, and a quick glance at Harry shows she's not hiding her flustered state as well as she'd hoped. His dimples are on full display, decorated with his complacent grin, and he's sitting back in his chair, arms crossed over one another. 

"Pick the most attractive player, both of you take three sips," you've got to be fucking joking, she was pretty sure everyone knew her answer to that, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. "It's Sarah. Who's next?" Sarah cheers' Y/N's glass and takes her sips as she grabs the next card. 

Y/N can see Harry's disgruntled look and can vaguely hear his murmured, "bullshit," but she only sends him a glare as she takes her three sips. 

——

Harry was drunk. No cut that, he was fucked. It was approximately six ciders ago that he began to feel light and giggly. And then maybe two or so ciders ago he began to have trouble walking in a straight line and was genuinely considering shaving his head. And now, he was here. Planted on the couch watching Y/N and Sarah sing some song he definitely knew but couldn't name, Taylor Swift maybe? 

His head felt heavy, and if he was honest, thoughts were entering his head and then leaving it before he could even acknowledge what they were. He can vaguely recognise Mitch's voice, talking about something that Harry, no matter how hard he tried, could actually listen to. So he sits on the couch and watches Y/N. She looked pretty with her hair down and messy, and Harry wishes he could stop her from dancing and ask if she could just sit next to him instead. But he thinks he's probably just drunk and maybe a bit lonely, so he doesn't. 

He's not sure if he was calling Y/N's name and hadn't realised or if she had noticed how not okay he seemed, but she approaches him anyway. "Harry, are you alright?" She looks worried, and Harry hates that he's made her feel that. He's tempted to use his thumb to mould the lines in her forehead back out like cheap clay, but he's not sure she'd want him to touch her. So he nods lightly, attempting a smile, but she doesn't return it. 

"Sarah, I'm gonna take Harry up to bed, he seems pretty gone." Harry doesn't hear Sarah's response because he's too busy focusing on Y/N's lips and how pretty and puffy they are. He briefly wonders what they'd feel like around the head of his cock, but he's drawn out of those thoughts when he realises she's calling his name. 

"Harry, c'mon, come upstairs to bed with me." Um, had Harry missed something? He doesn't really mind, truthfully he'd quite like to take Y/N upstairs and have his way with her, but, Y/N must see the look on his face because she laughs, "not like that you lecher! God, you really are pissed." 

Harry smiles and takes the hand she's giving him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders for stability. The group had experienced quite a few drunken nights during isolation, but Y/N had never seen Harry this intoxicated before and while she's quite enjoying him acting kind of goofy, she's just praying he doesn't vomit on her during their climb upstairs. 

Y/N does her best to guide Harry to his room, who provides absolutely no help, only giggling to himself as she struggles to hold him up. Finally, she makes it, only realising once she had stepped inside, that she had never actually seen Harry's room before. 

Similarly to Y/N’s, his room has the shell of a guest bedroom, the art on the walls a little too unpersonalised and the furniture stark and white. The bones of the room are fleshed out with Harry’s belongings, clearly in random places that were not permanent, as if he’d placed his records and guitar down the first day he got there, and left them in those exact same places. There are dirty clothes strewn upon the floor, and books sitting next to glasses stacked neatly on the bedside table. Next to them, is a candle that Y/N can’t read the scent of from her position in the doorway, something sweet from the smell permeating through the room, mixing intoxicatingly with Harry’s telltale sandalwood like cologne. 

Harry stands in the middle of the room, clearly having forgotten his purpose as he turns to look back at Y/N with a slightly lost expression. "Want to get into bed Harry?" He nods and stumbles over to his mattress, falling rather than laying in it. As Y/N's about to turn around to go back downstairs, she hears Harry's voice, much quieter than it usually is, "I'm sorry." She's not sure if she heard him correctly. 

"What did you say, Harry?"

"I'm sorry." He whispers. 

"For what?" Y/N knows what he could be sorry for, he did treat her like shit for weeks, but they’d already apologised and somewhat buried the hatchet. "For bein' a dick. You don't deserve it, never did." She walks closer to him, until she stands about a foot from the bed, and can see Harry's eyes full of sorrow and close to tears in the dark. 

"Come on, you're just drunk. If you want to talk about it more in the morning, we can." Y/N knows he'll forget by then, she's not sure he even remembers what he just said. He holds his hand out to her, and she hesitantly takes it, "ya just look so much like her, you know? Act like her too." Harry repeats the same words he’d told you yesterday. 

"Who, Harry?" 

He looks at her with his big green eyes, and she knows he's drunk, and she knows he'll forget this all in the morning, but she can't help but sit down beside him on the bed. 

"Elle." 

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t want Harry to burst into tears again, the topic clearly sensitive, let alone in his intoxicated state. So she stays silent, watches as Harry shuts his eyes, and Y/N nearly thinks he’s fallen asleep, until he reopens them again, "nicer than her though. Prettier too." 

Y/N's not going to lie, hearing Harry talk about her in a way that wasn't entirely negative for once was flattering, but she couldn't help but feel it was more the cider talking. She knew how much he missed Elle, that much was obvious, and she had thought that was what had made him hate her so much. She was worried he would wake up angry that he had told her things he hadn't intended to, or even worse, something he hadn't meant. 

So she leans over him to grab the side of the bedsheet he had torn away, but his freezing hand on her neck causes her to pause. His thumb is lightly brushing over the mark he left on her earlier, and Y/N audibly swallows. He was close enough that he could lean in slightly and press his lips against the same spot once more, but he doesn't, only whispers, "looks so good on you." Y/N feels his warm breath against her bare neck as he speaks, causing that pull to return to her lower stomach once more, "H, I don't think we should do this right now." 

Y/N didn’t know what exactly ‘this’ was, she just knew she didn’t want either of them to be intoxicated when it happened. The Harry Y/N knew, would pull back, laugh and ask if she really thought he'd ever want to do 'this' with her, but this intoxicated and unpredictable Harry presses his lips softly to her neck once, before pulling back and sighing. "I know." 

He studies her face carefully before speaking again. "You've never called me H before, I like it." Y/N sighs, "honestly I didn't think we were on that level. Thought you'd get mad at me," she laughs lightly although what she said was true. 

She had thought about adopting the same nickname everyone else in the house used but was too scared he would make fun of her or ask her why she felt she had the right to call him that. So she played it safe, only calling him Harry, but she guessed the nickname slipped out while he was very much inebriated and very much unlikely to say any word of opposition. 

If Y/N didn't know any better, she'd think Harry looked almost hopeful as he whispered, "so we are now?" but the expression is fleeting. She wants to feed into it but isn't sure if it's more her mind playing tricks on her. Showing her things she desperately wants to be true, only to turn around a reveal it was fake the whole time. So she shrugs, "I don't know Harry." 

He nods slowly but doesn't say anything else. "Try to get some sleep." He nods again, "night." 

"Night H." 

——

Harry doesn't know what happened. Had he been drugged? Used as a voodoo doll? Abducted by aliens? Something had happened, because when he woke up with a pounding head, his first feeling was disappointment. But not disappointment about having to nurse a shocking hangover, no, it was disappointing that Y/N wasn't in bed with him. He could’ve sworn she had come upstairs with him. 

Harry was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he didn't hate her and perhaps, just maybe had developed a small crush towards her. But wishing she was cuddling him after a drunken night? That was too close to something serious, something that Harry was definitely not ready for. Not after Elle. 

Walking down the stairs, he wonders if there's a reason for his sudden desperation? He vaguely remembers giving her a hickey, but that was a part of the game. He remembers Y/N walking into his room and sitting on his bed, but can’t recall what was actually said. 

Stepping into the kitchen, feels the same as usual, maybe with added head pain. Mitch is doing the dishes from the breakfast sitting on the table in front of Y/N and Sarah. Everything seems painfully familiar. Except, looking at Y/N now, with sober goggles and daylight, Harry completely understands why drunk him was so enamoured. She looks beautiful, with an oversized tee-shirt barely covering her smooth legs, her hair in a messy bun atop her head, and the striking hickey against her neck painfully obvious. Seeing Y/N with his mark against her neck makes Harry have to will his stiffy away. She hadn't even tried to hide it.

Harry doesn't know how long he'd been standing in the entrance of the kitchen, staring at Y/N like a creep, but she catches his eye and sends him a shy smile. "Mornin' H, brekkies on the table," Mitch states, as Harry quickly returns the smile Y/N gave him and sits across from her, "looks good, man. Thanks for cooking." 

Harry is slightly shocked when Y/N speaks up from the other side of the table, he had been expecting her to ignore him like she had after he’d given her the mark that was causing a tingle in his lower tummy. "How's your head?" She says softly. 

He gives her a small grin, "it's been better if'm honest." She laughs, "yeh, you were pretty fucked last night." Harry can't tell if she's genuinely just making conversation or if she's trying to figure out if he remembered the events that occurred. "Was I? Not too drunk to remember giving you that," he points at her neck with his syrup covered fork. His words have their desired effect as Y/N turns bright red, "really does look good on you love." 

Harry's not sure what he's doing, he's aware of how flirty he is being. While they were now able to be around each other and have a conversation without biting each other’s heads off, hitting on each other was a whole different ball game. All he knows is that the more he looks at Y/N, the more he wants to get on his knees before her. 

Harry had never flirted so openly with Y/N before. What the fuck was he playing at? Y/N had assumed that Harry became a tad clingy and loving with a few drinks in his system. So as he sits across from her, dead sober, and continues to flirt with her, Y/N is confused. Maybe he was still drunk? Had he taken something she wasn't aware of? Been probed in the middle of the night? She wasn't sure, but she couldn't say she didn't like it. 

She also didn't want to get too comfortable, only for him to turn around and treat her as horribly as he had when she first got here. So she gives him a small smile and continues to eat her breakfast, merely listening to the conversations happening around her. 

——

No matter how hard she tried, Y/N could not get the thought of Harry off her mind. Could still feel the ghost of his lips trailing along her neck, and the way his hand brushed along hers. She couldn’t help but imagine the way his lips would feel pressing softly against her own, his tongue licking into her mouth. She imagines his hands to be soft but still firm as they held her hips, her neck, her own fingers laced in his. His voice replays in her head, and she wonders how his accent would twirl and twist around filthy words, whispered into the shell or her ear. 

 She can't forget how she felt hearing the lilt of his voice when it was flirting with someone else. Can’t get away from the pit in her stomach, the aching head and chest. She had laid awake for so many nights trying to figure out why exactly it had bothered her so much. 

She could only amount it all to a certain type of jealousy, but what was she jealous of? Harry had never shown her any sort of romantic attention before, that is until he was suckling at her neck and calling her sweetheart. But what did it all mean? Did he feel the same pull towards her, or was she just imagining his sudden fondness of her? Did she actually like him, or just the idea of his lips pressed against hers rather than her neck. She needed to talk to someone, and thank goodness for her, Sarah was home. 

Ever since they were little Sarah and Y/N had been ridiculously close. They had experienced each stage of their lives together, from playing at the local playground to trying their first cigarette in the bathroom of Sarah’s family home. Sarah was the big sister that Y/N had never had, always there for advice or a bit of fun. Teaching her about sex and drinking, what it was like to kiss another person or drive a car for the first time. Sarah explained everything with practiced expertise that looking back on, Y/N could see she definitely didn’t have at the time.  

Their family homes were only a road apart, and every day either Y/N or Sarah would make the small trek to each other’s house and spend hours discussing nothing and everything. Sarah was the closest thing Y/N had ever had to a sibling, and after Sarah had left for tour with Harry and the band, Y/N had felt a Sarah sized hole in her heart. Honestly, for Y/N, quarantine felt like a blessing in disguise, she felt like they could make up for the months of lost time and distance between them. 

In search of her cousin, Y/N only comes across Mitch reading in the living room, “hey, do you know where Sarah is?” He glances at Y/N from above his book, owlishly blinking as if he was confused, and maybe he was. Mitch is well known for getting lost in anything he loves, from books and movies and especially in his music. “Um, the shower… I think?” 

Bidding him thanks, Y/N heads towards the downstairs toilet where she could hear the water running. While they all had bathrooms in their rooms, they’d found the downstairs communal shower particularly helpful. It was easy to slip into after they’d just come back from swimming at the beach or a run, without mucking salt water or sweat through the whole house. Y/N knew Sarah had gone out for a jog about an hour ago, so had no doubt she was having a quick wash before dinner. 

If it were anybody else, Y/N would’ve waited until they had finished, but ever since they were thirteen or so, Y/N and Sarah had an odd tradition of having intense conversations while one of them was showering. Y/N still remembers the week Sarah’s parents had decided to split up, she had spent every night sitting on the closed toilet seat crying and ranting while Y/N stood under the hot water, listening and trying her best to comfort her. It was a weird habit of theirs, but for them, the chance to chat with someone without having to look them in the eye was therapeutic, almost like a church confessional. 

Although Y/N was relatively happy, she wasn’t about to enter a religious confessional. When it came to Harry, she had definitely committed at least four of the seven mortal sins. No, it was just Sarah, and Y/N knew that no matter what she admitted, it would be received with love and unconditional support. So she charges through the bathroom door, eager to spill all that was muddling up her mind, “Sarah! We need to talk about Harry, I need your help.” 

Y/N expects Sarah’s tinkling laugh, soothing cooing, maybe even a big sigh and her calming voice asking her what was wrong. Instead, she is met with the deep and drawling laugh of Harry himself. 

Looking back now, Y/N wishes she could say she dealt with her mistake with careful grace and poise, but instead she lets out a bloodcurdling scream, and as she sees the shower curtain drawn to the left she slaps her hands over her eyes. The melodic laugh of Harry’s continues as he clearly notices her current predicament, “can look if you want babe.” 

Y/N whines, “I- um, no. I don’t- I thought you were Sarah. What the fuck is happening.” Y/N can hear the smirk in Harry’s voice as he answers, “yeh Y/N, I got that. Seriously, I’m covered up.” 

And maybe, it would’ve been better for Y/N to stay standing with her hands over her eyes like a petulant child because as she drops them, the sight she’s met with is one to behold and one Y/N’s not sure she can handle. Harry is covered with the shower curtain pulled across his bottom half, but Y/N trails her eyes upwards, sees the small trail of slightly damp hair leading down to the white curtain, and her eyes widen comically, he looks like a wet dream and Y/N’s not sure how to react. 

His curls are stuck to his neck and forehead, matted against the soft wet skin. His naturally tanned chest is on display, dripping with water, and covered in his tattoos. Y/N can’t help but notice the inked swallows along his chest, drawing attention to his collarbones, the skin taught against the bone, and Y/N wants to kiss along it and taste the mix of salt and sweetness of his neck. The butterfly covering his abs ripples as he clears his throat, drawing Y/N’s attention away from his body. 

“So what did you need to talk to Sarah about, hm?” Anything I can help you with?” Y/N can feel the blood rush to her cheeks, fully aware that Harry had caught her ogling at his partially naked body. Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth, and she’s not sure whether it’s from the sight in front of her or the embarrassment of being caught staring at it. 

Y/N stutters, trying to force herself to say something, anything at all that would make this situation less unnerving “um, I-no?” Which comes out more like a question than anything, and Y/N curses herself for her weak resolve. Harry smirks, “Cat got your tongue pet?” Y/N hates how easily he can get her worked up, and hates it even more how obvious it is to him. “Stop teasing me! I can’t, you know, I don’t-... you’re naked okay!” 

Harry’s dimples deepen, and a smirk takes over a little less than half of his face, “don’t pretend you don’t love my teasing, darlin’.” It’s at this point that Y/N realises that she had been in this situation much longer than appropriate, standing flustered and hot from Harry being so close to her while nude. 

“I need to go,” it comes out as more of a whisper, her voice rough with lust. She coughs as if to clear her throat, but from what she’s unsure. The intense desire she feels for a man she despised a month ago, perhaps? “Relax Y/N, no big deal. I think Sarah’s in the shower upstairs though if you’re still looking.”

She nods in response, slowly backing out of the room before turning around and quickly shutting the door behind her. She feels her breath heaving in and out of her lungs. Feels her throat tighten and her head dizzy, and an intense tingling feeling starts at her toes and spreads all the way to her lower tummy. The familiar pull of lust and need brings an ache to her core, and she feels the sticky heat between her legs. 

While Y/N may not know it, Harry is affected by her as much as she is by him. He stands in the shower, a stupid grin across his face, dimples indenting his cheek. Harry could pretend he didn’t see Y/N blatantly ogling him, or her cheeks burn a delicious crimson when she had gotten caught. Could even pretend he didn’t see her subconsciously squeezing her thighs together while she stood in front of him, like she was so desperate for Harry she couldn’t even wait to relieve the tension building inside of her. 

Harry could pretend not to notice, but as he felt a tingle zap down his spine, and the accustomed rush of blood to his lower half, Harry realised he didn't want to. Would rather explore this unnerving territory, and see what it had in store for him. 

——

Harry had reached a new level of boredom. So much so, he had resorted to doing a puzzle.

Harry was notorious for always being busy, was constantly on tour, playing shows and promoting his music. The quietest periods in Harry’s life were the months of writing he’d participate in, where his mind was anything but still. He wasn’t used to doing nothing all day, and while he had tried to write during isolation, the months of doing fuck all made inspiration hard to come by. 

So it led Harry to his current situation, trying to complete a challenging puzzle at the dining table. Sarah and Mitch were napping the late afternoon away, Jeff was playing Xbox games in the living room, and Y/N had gone for a walk, right after she had brought the puzzle out from her room after Harry had asked her to. He had heard her talking to Sarah about how much she loved puzzles a few months ago and had even shown her the one she had brought to quarantine; however, she hadn’t gotten the chance to start it yet. 

Harry had been doing nothing all day, and he was sick of sitting in bed, refreshing his Instagram feed every ten minutes. To be honest, a puzzle wouldn’t have been Harry’s first choice of a relaxing pastime activity, but there was only so much social media and movie marathons Harry could take. 

He was nervous at first to ask Y/N. Over the last few days, it seemed like there was a certain tension between them, as if they were both aware of the lust that had been swirling throughout the bathroom as thick as the steam from Harry’s shower, but didn’t want to admit it. They were testing the waters, sometimes stumbling through amorous conversations, while still attempting to maintain their indifference. 

However, he was slightly remorseful of his decision for a different reason, when he asked Y/N if he could borrow it from her, she had squealed in excitement, telling him her ‘top tips’ for completing a jigsaw for at least ten minutes. He guesses her passion and love for the shitty quarantine past time, overrode her awkward feelings towards their situation. If he was honest, Harry didn’t give a fuck about “making sure to find the corners first!” but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he nodded along and pretended to listen. 

But Harry had really come to regret his decision when he hadn’t found a piece in over an hour. He was frustrated and the stifling temperature Sarah insisted on keeping the house at, wasn’t helping. He had completed a small section at the top right corner, five or six pieces on the left, and a few random bits he had stuck together and somehow happened to get correct. He was slightly embarrassed when Y/N returned from her walk, to find him with his head in his hands, looking more than sorry for himself. Her tinkling laughter doesn’t make him feel any better, either. 

“Having trouble H?” 

He looks up to her standing in the doorway, attempting to plaster his award-winning grin upon his face, “if I’d known it was this hard I never would have asked if I could do it.” She grins back, and walks over to the table, looking down at the pieces with a concentrated focus. “Hm I never said it was going to be easy, thought my tips would help, but I guess not.” 

Harry tries yet another piece that doesn’t fit with the ones surrounding it, and sighs, “if the puzzle master wants to help, that would be lovely,” he lilts. She picks up the segment Harry had just dropped and places into the correct position on the opposite side of the puzzle that Harry had placed it in. “You’re flattering me now.” She hesitates for a tick, “lucky for you, I like it.” 

Harry loved this new dynamic between them, it was light and teasing, something he hadn’t had with her before. He’s not going to lie and say that he didn’t slightly enjoy the biting exchanges they had previously shared, but this flirty air between them was exciting.  

“I’ll keep that in mind pet. Now, what were those tips again?” 

It’s safe to say Harry was impressed with Y/N’s skill, he had never thought puzzles were that difficult until he actually tried to complete one. Y/N however, was fast, seemed to pick up pieces and instantly be able to connect to where they should go, and quickly finished at least ninety percent of the puzzle. Harry fit the odd part in place, which Y/N praised each time, with a small cheer and a “well done!” each time. Finally, the puzzle was almost complete with only one gap in the picture of golden retriever puppies climbing on one another. 

Y/N looks at Harry and hands him the last puzzle piece, “you should put the last bit in.” Harry can’t explain the warm glow that emits from his heart, he doesn’t know why it makes him so happy. She was kind and considerate, and Harry wasn’t used to people always putting him first, usually being doubtful of anyone he hadn’t known for a while, worried about what their true intentions were. “You sure? You did most of it.” She giggles, “nah, we did it together!” Harry takes the bit of cardboard from her and places it in the last empty spot. 

He looks up at Y/N who’s grinning at him stupidly, and he can’t help but smile back. It’s then that Harry starts to really look at Y/N. He notices the dusting of freckles on the top of her nose, her eyes laced with pride and happiness and her lips, the bottom one stuck between her two front teeth, but both looking so soft and sweet. Y/N must catch Harry staring at her lips because she releases the supple flesh from between her bite. 

“Did you have fun?” She whispers. 

Harry tries to reply, but his voice dies in his throat. All he can manage is a small nod, his gaze dropping back to Y/N’s mouth. He lifts his hand to her face, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, and she leans into the touch slightly. Unknowingly, they had gotten even closer, and Harry can feel her small puffs of air against his lips, could brush them against hers if he leaned an inch forward. 

“Harry, what do you want to do for dinner?” Mitch yells from the room one over, scaring both Y/N and Harry, who instantly pull away from each other. Harry coughs, “um, I don’t know man.” 

Mitch walks into the room, Sarah in tow, who sees the completed puzzle on the table and runs over, “you finally did it Y/N!” Harry looks over to the girl in question. Her cheeks a cherry red as she looks over to Harry, “uh yeah, Harry and I did it together.” Sarah looks between them, with an impish look on her face mixed with slight disbelief, “oh, that’s… nice.” 

Harry’s attention is drawn away from Y/N when Mitch pipes up again, “I was thinking tacos, so we could make frozen margaritas for game night.” Harry is grateful for the change in topic, knowing Sarah was more than likely to make a comment that Harry was not ready to address. Particularly if Y/N had indeed continued the conversation she had planned to have with Sarah a few days ago when she’d walked in on Harry in the shower. 

“You know I’m always down for a margarita.” 

—— 

Y/N was slightly buzzed. She hated feeling entirely out of control when she drank, and she’d found the perfect point between dead sober and sloppy. She felt a warm feeling in her fingertips and toes, felt slightly light-headed and was just a tad obnoxiously giggly. The group had been playing monopoly, and while Y/N usually hated the game, she was thoroughly enjoying it tonight. 

Sarah had been helping Y/N, so she wasn’t so lost in terms of properties and the differences between houses and hotels. Jeff was as quiet as usual, but somehow had a secret talent for swindling properties and hoard money. Mitch had prioritised his margarita over the game, buying random properties when he felt like it, and fucking up everyone else’s plans of winning. And Harry had made it his mission to beat Y/N. If he was honest, he just loved seeing her pout every time he would buy whatever spaces were left of the colours she was aiming for, or teasing her every time she got a smaller roll than him. 

As Harry bought another green property that Y/N was gunning for, she realised she was nursing an empty glass. “Does anyone want another margarita?” Agreements come from all around the table, so Y/N gets up, grabbing a few empty glasses. As she stands, she feels the blood rush to her head, a slight dizziness tingling through her body, and she giggles as she stumbles towards the kitchen. 

Harry and Mitch had made the previous rounds, Y/N watching the first couple be made. Which meant she probably should remember the ingredients, but if she’s honest, the copious amount of alcohol running through her bloodstream has caused a lapse in her memory. Was she supposed to put one or two cups of ice in? Y/N curses herself and her shitty memory under her breath, realising she will definitely need help. She was clearly too tipsy to think coherently. 

“Oi, how much tequila do I put in? And is it Cointreau or triple sec? And how much ice do I use” She yells into the adjacent room, sighing slightly, hoping someone would come and help her. And she can’t explain her excitement when Harry rounds the corner, maybe because the pressure of making the drinks had been lifted, but more likely because it was simply him. He comes in with a smiling face, his hair slightly messed and his eyes filled with the misty happiness of someone who is perfectly buzzed. 

Y/N couldn’t quite describe the shiver that travels down her spine or the tension she feels in her stomach, all she knows is in the last few days, the intense feeling had begun to grow stronger whenever Harry was around. There was something about him, the way he carried himself, the shy smirks he’d give her, or the gentle touches he’d provide as he walked passed her. 

In every touch, every look and every feeling she got from Harry, Y/N could sense the tension growing stronger. She was amazed the rest of the group hadn’t picked up on it, other than Sarah of course, who was watching from the sidelines, waiting for one of them to crack. 

“What’s the problem bunny?” His eyes soft as he walks over to a defeated Y/N. He watches as her eyes crinkled slightly as she giggles despite herself, “I wanted to make everyone drinks, but I realised I don’t actually know how to.” She sheepishly watches Harry’s face mirror her own with a small grin, “well that just won’t do, will it? Sit on the counter n’ I’ll show you again.” 

She jumps on the kitchen bench, the surface cold against her otherwise alcohol flushed skin. She watches Harry gather the ingredients from around the kitchen, noticing the way his back strains against the white and yellow t-shirt he was wearing, the arch of his back clear and his shoulders strong and broad.

Over the past week or so, Y/N had started to see the funny and charming personality that the rest of the household had previously been privy to. His witty and sweet persona had shone through, and it had done nothing to curb the intense sexual feelings she felt towards him, instead they were only growing, especially with each pet name that his puffy pink lips shaped around. 

Harry begins to place the ingredients in the blender, and Y/N is confident he’s giving her instructions as he does so, but she is just so distracted by his strong fingers adorned by his shiny rings, each one a different shape and size. “Are y’listening?” 

She snaps her eyes back to his face, to see one side of his pretty mouth tugging upwards, suggesting he already knew the answer to his own question. “What are you lookin’ at my hands for?” She feels the warmth rush to the apples of her cheeks, sheepishly replying, “I was just looking at your rings, they’re very pretty.” 

He smiles and jokingly holds his hand up to her face, wiggling his fingers. Y/N chuckles and grabs his pointer finger, pulling it towards her to get a better look. She holds his hand while looking at the silver band wrapped around his digit, eyeing the small red ruby shining brightly in the centre of it, “like this one,” she whispers. He matches her volume, stepping closer in order to hear her, “it was my mums, she gave it to me after my first concert sold out. Her mum gave it to her after she got married.” She runs her finger over it gently, noticing the worn edges, and tries to imagine the many stories it had experienced in the hands of three generations. “It’s beautiful.” 

This felt like a moment for both of them. Obviously, Harry and Y/N had experienced many conversations and experiences before, but none quite like this. Harry feels the warmth from her body radiating into his, can feel the sweat from her hands as she holds his own. He can hear her calm breathing, the slow rise and fall of her chest. Of course, Harry had felt lust before, but he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to kiss someone as badly as he does right now.

He can’t explain how desperately he wants to inch forward, hold her pretty face in his hands and press his lips against hers. Instead, he makes do, moving closer to her and feeling a bloom of happiness in his chest when she opens her legs for him to stand between with no hesitation. 

She smiles, his hand still nestled into hers, although her focus had moved far beyond his rings. It now laid solely on his face and the way he was looking at her. He rests his free hand on the counter beside her, close enough that she could feel the outside of his thumb brushing against her upper leg. 

Harry bites his tongue, he wants to say ‘so are you,’ but even he knows that’s cheesy. Plus he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries, he knows Y/N is attracted to him but is also fully aware that doesn’t equal consent. He settles for lightly brushing his thumb against her leg and watches as a shiver racks through her body. With a slight giggle, she grabs his other hand, that’s causing the mildly uncomfortable sensation, with her free one, “that tickles.” 

And Harry’s not a mind reader, but now they’re just holding hands, plain and simple. He doesn’t know if she feels the same heat and tension settling between their lips, but the way she leans in slightly, tilting her head to the left gives him an indication she does. It’s subtle, and if Harry hadn’t been sitting between her legs praying she’d do exactly that, he might not have picked up on it. But he does. 

He leans in too, leaving a slight gap between them. Y/N can feel the tiny puffs of air, leaving Harry’s mouth and drawing into hers and can feel the little tufts of hair tickling her forehead. 

She brushes her lips against his gently, testing the waters. He feels as soft and warm against her as she’d imagined. Y/N retracts slightly, unsure if she had overstepped a boundary. The only reaction she could read was a sharp inhale on his part, and she was worried that it wasn’t a positive sign. 

But she couldn’t have been more wrong. 

He lifts his hand from hers and places it against her neck, his hands big enough to tuck his thumb under her jaw, while still using the rest of his fingers to gently push her back against him.

She tasted so much better than he would’ve thought, sour from the margaritas with an underlying sweetness that he couldn’t put his finger on. Harry can barely hold in his groan when her tongue slides against his lower lip, and he gladly opens up further. He feels her whimper against his thumb before he hears it, the rumbling sending vibrations up his arm, leading him to feel dizzy. 

He feels Y/N rest her hands against his shoulders, sliding them over his neck and resting her forearms behind his head. She leans further into the kiss, somehow opening her legs further, her hips slightly bucking towards his own in a silent plea for friction. Harry doesn’t hesitate to give it to her, pressing himself against her and instantly feeling the effect of his actions. She runs one hand through the curls sitting at the back of his head, tugging gently and pushing her own hips back with as much vigour as he had.

That is until the click of heeled boots is heard echoing against the kitchen tiles. 

The speed at which Harry jumps away from his position between Y/N’s legs is comical, and she almost wishes she could see it from an outsiders perspective. However, not as much as she wishes Harry’s lips were back on her own. 

Y/N looks between the boy she had been kissing with his hair messy and fluffy, and the apparent growing bulge in his pants to the shocked Mitch standing in the entrance of the kitchen. His mouth hangs open comically, and his hands hang loosely by his sides. 

The silence is too much for both Harry and Y/N to bear and looking at Y/N’s face, now bright red, and brimming with embarrassment and stress Harry feels it’s his responsibility to put her slightly at ease. “Mitch… um look-” 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Harry doesn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence before Mitch is interrupting. Harry pipes up again, “it’s nothing!” Y/N can feel her brows turning downwards and the corner of her lips curling in annoyance. She knows Harry is more than likely trying to cover their asses, but Mitch had seen them kissing, and it didn’t make Harry downplaying everything hurt any less. 

Harry sees her face and quickly tries to backtrack, “well I mean not nothing… it’s something!” 

“No shit it’s something! How long have you guys been fucking for?” This time Y/N is the first to speak up, “we are not fucking! We haven’t even-“ she starts, completely flustered, her face somehow becoming even redder, “we just kissed!” Mitch bursts out laughing, as Y/N and Harry stay completely still, both absolutely mortified. 

“Alright mate, fuck off,” Harry grumbles, praying that Mitch would just leave the uncomfortable situation alone. And he does, still laughing as he finds his way back to the living room. Y/N has no doubt that he would go straight to Sarah and Jeff to share what he’d just seen. Harry turns to 

Y/N and while he tries to maintain a serious face for her sake, he can’t help but let out a small chuckle. 

It wasn’t the first time Mitch had walked in on him during a ‘private’ moment, some a lot worse than what he’d just witnessed. But Harry doubts any would be more shocking than the kiss Mitch had just seen. According to him, Y/N and Harry were at most on civil terms. So to see them, in a more than compromising position must have been a considerable shock to the system. 

“Why are you laughing, you ass?” While Y/N’s words are anything but kind, her face gives away her true feelings, a small grin peeking through. She wasn’t too concerned, Sarah already knew the current situation Harry and Y/N had found themselves in, as well as Y/N’s feelings on it. She was probably waiting for this very scenario to occur.

However, she was worried about where Harry and her would go from here. 

She knew he was attracted to her, he wouldn’t have kissed her otherwise. Y/N couldn’t help but think that maybe Harry had done it in the moment, and didn’t feel that same attraction all the time. What if he saw her leaning in and was pitying her? Y/N was terrified that now that Mitch knew, Harry would be too embarrassed to kiss her again. 

But Y/N’s worry is immediately put to hold when Harry grabs her hand again, “you’ve got to admit it’s funny.” He rubs his thumb against her knuckles, hoping to soothe any worry still running through her veins, “are you okay though?” Y/N smiles and squeezes his hand, “yeh, more than.” 

Harry leans in slowly, making sure that even though Y/N had claimed she was fine, that she would still be okay with him kissing her again. She doesn’t move away, instead moves closer and he smiles and presses a soft kiss against her lips. 

“We should probably get back out there,” he mumbles against her plush lips. She nods in response, squeezing his hand once more before jumping off the counter. “I’ll see you in the living room.” 

—— 

Harry didn’t regret kissing Y/N, not by a long shot. What he did regret, however, is two things. The first was agreeing to continue drinking with Mitch after everyone else had gone to sleep, and the second, kissing Y/N while intoxicated. 

He had enjoyed it, he knew that much. But he’s fully aware that he may not have gotten the chance to absorb every detail of the moment. He couldn’t forget the feeling of her lips against his or the way she bucked up against him. However, he is struggling to recall the way her hips felt under his fingertips, or whether or not he could smell the strawberry scented shampoo she used, that previously, he had only caught gusts of. 

Harry needs to know, when they kissed, did her eyebrows furrow the same way they do when she bites into a warm jam donut? Or when he slotted his hips against hers, did her mouth hang open, eyes shut tightly like when Sarah dug into the knots in her back? Did she make the same sounds Harry had already heard? Or were there some privy only to moments of privacy like the one her and Harry shared? He didn’t think to notice if the skin on her cheeks was as soft as it looked, or even if her hands held onto him as firmly as they had grasped onto the chair, the night Harry had first gotten so close to Y/N. 

Harry couldn’t help but feel like he’d somehow hiked up mountainous terrain, dodged every jagged edge Y/N initially threw at him, stumbled through open conversations and insinuations. Felt he had somehow navigated overwhelming selfishness and every mixed feeling, to finally reach the top and for some stupid reason just close his eyes. He was only just able to smell the mountainside air and feel the rocky surface but was utterly blind to the magnificent sight in front of him. 

Harry was also worried that Y/N was too intoxicated to know what she was doing. Harry was big on consent, always had been, and he knew the chances of drunk him doing something Y/N wasn’t okay with was very unlikely, but what if? What if for some reason he couldn’t read the body language of the girl he had spent months admiring? Or what if she had said something of opposition and he hadn’t heard her? 

Harry was stressed, and the pounding headache beating through his head was definitely not helping. 

He knew the only way to make sure what happened last night was okay and enjoyable for both parties, was simply asking Y/N. So after going to the bathroom, splashing some cold water on his face and changing into some sweatpants, Harry makes the trek downstairs. 

He’s met with an interesting site. Mitch is sitting at the kitchen counter, head in his hands and shaking his head. Jeff is doing dishes and looks to be purposely clanging noisy dishes in front of Mitch and then laughing at each flinch racking from the man's body. While Y/N is standing at the stove, cooking something that Harry can’t decipher, in her cloud pyjama pants and a sweatshirt that looks suspiciously like his.

If Harry listens intently enough, he can hear her humming under her breath, a soft tune that lifts all the features of Harry’s handsome face upwards. 

Harry starts by walking over to Mitch, placing his hands on both of his shoulders and squeezing lightly, “c’mon Jeff, lay off the poor guy!” Jeff only laughs in response jokingly swatting at Mitch's head, still buried within his hands. 

At the joking tone within the kitchen, and the fact that Jeff had not immediately berated Harry about his relationship with Y/N, Harry realised Mitch had decided not to tell the rest of the house. Or at least not Jeff. Harry couldn’t have been more thankful for Mitch's undying loyalty and bizarre talent of somehow knowing exactly what Harry wanted or needed. With Y/N’s relaxed manner, he assumed she had come to the same conclusion.  

At the sound of Harry’s voice, Y/N whips around, her face lighting up at the sight of the man she had kissed not 12 hours ago. And the look of delight and need on Y/N’s face works wonders to calm Harry’s nerves, while Y/N’s were skyrocketing. He looked as handsome as ever with sleep still gracing his features, his chestnut hair in a mess on top of his head and eyes slightly puffy and red. In all honesty, Y/N couldn’t get over how it felt to kiss him, and while it had happened, she couldn’t help but feel thirteen again, with a crush on the cute boy in class. 

It was like he knew exactly what she was thinking, his tongue darting out from between his lips, leaving them wet and glistening in the early morning sun. And Y/N just can’t seem to draw her attention away from them, can’t stop the image of him pressed against her replaying over and over in her mind.

Maybe it was the way her eyes drooped slightly, her nostrils flaring ever so subtly, but Y/N gets the feeling that he knows exactly what she’s thinking, his left eye dropping in a wink that leaves Y/N’s tummy fluttering. 

“Mornin’ love.” His voice is hoarse and deep with residue drowsiness, and it does nothing to ease Y/N’s churning stomach. She coughs lightly before replying, “morning H.” Her voice is uncharacteristically quiet and manner docile, as she tries to hide the less than appropriate thoughts running through her head. 

He walks over to the stove, leaving Jeff and Mitch behind in the presence of someone far more interesting. “Smells good, what are you cookin’?” 

Y/N giggles, the sound unnecessarily loud and she cringes at herself before replying, “um, pancakes. Made some more just in case you guys wanted some.” In truth, Y/N knew Mitch didn’t like pancakes, Sarah wasn’t even awake yet, and Jeff had just started a very strict ‘no sugar’ diet, and so those extra pancakes were specifically for Harry after she had heard his sink running upstairs. And well, Harry knew all of that too. He feels a certain spaciousness in his chest one can only attribute to gratitude, and it makes him want to draw her close to him and kiss her cheek in thanks. 

Instead, Harry grabs her small hand in his and squeezes it lightly, before walking over to the fridge to get the maple syrup. “What’d you want on yours, babe? Nutella?” 

Y/N smiles and nods her head, giddy with the tingling feeling travelling through her hands and the prospect of spending more time with Harry. 

—— 

The day had been quiet. Y/N felt as if she had been wading through water all afternoon, sluggish and slow but somehow using more energy than walking on land required. The whole house felt slow-moving, most of its inhabitants spending the day in front of the TV, reading books or napping. And so it made sense for their daily activity to be a movie night. 

The housemates had decided a Disney marathon would be a perfect end to a hungover day, and with Jeff’s only condition being that they watched ‘Bambi’, everyone was in agreeance. 

Y/N had offered to organise the snacks and drinks while everyone else brought down pillows and blankets from upstairs, the room looking cozier then she had seen it in the past few months, and at the centre of it, Harry.

In the same position, he had been in the night they had sat watching cartoons in the early morning together, only to fall asleep and wake up in each other’s arms. It felt like so long ago now, but Y/N knows in reality, not that much time had passed. She found herself feeling thankful for how their relationship had evolved, and the effect a little time had given them. 

It was funny how far they had come. Y/N was so worried Harry had hated her after that, she now wonders if he’d always felt some type of draw towards her, or if he really had hated her as much as he made out. She briefly wonders if he’s thinking the same thing as she is, as he looks at her questioningly, standing in the doorway of the living room, unmoving. 

Y/N smiles lightly, and begins to move towards the couch, realising that there were three blankets in total, one being used by Mitch and Sarah, seemingly very close underneath the cover, one thrown over Jeff and the other sitting across Harry’s legs. She hesitates for a moment, the obvious choice being Harry, but she isn’t sure where their relationship stood, and more importantly, how much the rest of the housemates knew about it. 

Harry quickly provides a solution, “y’can just share my blanket if you want pet.” Y/N’s tummy flips, but the blank stare she gives him as she runs through all the repercussions (good and bad) coming from her doing that, comes off more as confusion. Did he forget that Jeff didn’t know about the kiss? 

Harry sits uncomfortably in the silence. “Or not, whatever you want.” Silence again, and with each passing second, Harry’s facial expression becomes more and more exasperated. 

Mitch is smirking, giving Harry a knowing glance. Sarah is looking at Mitch confused, obviously trying to figure out her boyfriend's cryptic facial expression. Jeff was the most bewildered of all, clearly completely lost. 

“Fine, fuckin’ forget it. Y’can share a blanket with Jeff ‘Mcvomit’ Aezzof. Or maybe you can jack Mitch off under the blanket with Sarah, and all of us will pretend we don’t know. How bout that hm?” Harry knows he’s being slightly unfair to all those just mentioned. 

A month ago, during a game night, Jeff had consumed slightly too much alcohol and subsequently vomited all over the living room carpet and Harry’s rainbow Gucci boots. Safe to say, Harry was not impressed and hadn’t let Jeff forget it either. 

He also knows he’s being unfair to Sarah and Mitch, although, he’s not exactly wrong. Harry had no proof anything was happening under Sarah’s unicorn blanket but they always sat suspiciously close, and some strange movements had definitely been observed during movie nights, particularly when the crew had binged ‘50 Shades of Grey.’

No one had mentioned it to each other, until one night, Y/N had tried to subtly ask Jeff and Harry if they had noticed too. The two boys immediately agreed, admitting they both had their own suspicions. However, this was the first time anyone had brought it up with the couple in question. 

He’s instantly met with outcry from both Sarah and Mitch.

“Oh for fucks sake H.” 

“You’re so crude.” 

“We do not do that.” 

Jeff also looks unamused, mumbling under his breath, although the shouts from the couple drown his reply out, “you have too much to drink one time, and no one lets you forget it.” 

But Y/N, in true Y/N style laughs, and all of a sudden Harry doesn’t feel nearly as bad for his accusations or his teasing of Jeff. “Alright bug, alright. You made your point, scoot over.” 

Y/N settles under the blanket with Harry, tucking her legs underneath her, trying to maintain a healthy distance from him. She hadn’t really been so consciously close to Harry before, only ever being asleep, drunk or… busy. Y/N noticed his signature scent was present, a warm cedarwood cologne that somehow made her nostrils tickle and insides feel slightly warmer, like a shot of whiskey travelling down her throat and spreading through her tummy. 

Maybe it was the man the smell lingered to that made her feel so comfortable and warm, or perhaps it was the blanket and heat radiating from him, but either way, Y/N loved it. She revelled in the comfort and feeling of safety that she didn’t often bask in, and it was Harry of all people who made her feel like this. 

She briefly wonders what this movie night would entail. She was happy they were already close to each other, stealing glances. Each bout of eye contact bringing a tingle through her spine, a shiver wracking through her shoulders when she noticed him glancing at her with his signature smirk and bright look. 

She was aware that they were slowly moving closer to each other with each passing second of the film playing in front of them. When she had initially sat down next to Harry, she could feel the warmth radiating from him, but now she could feel his side pressed against her, and his leg slightly crossed over hers.

If she’s honest, she was much more focused on the handsome individual sitting next to her than on the movie anyway, and consequently, she missed the first twenty minutes. 

What she cannot miss, however, is Harry’s hand coming to rest gently on her thigh. His palm flat against the plush flesh and his nails lightly scratching at the skin lying over it. 

She looks over at him, his strong jaw and cheekbone highlighted by the dim light of the TV screen, his nose slightly pointed at the end and his long eyelashes fluttering against his skin. She watches as his pink lips tug upwards, bringing a smirk and deep dimple to his handsome face. With that smile, she realises he knows she’s looking at him, and probably knows the effect his touch is having on her. The only acknowledgement she receives is a small squeeze of her thigh. 

She can’t help but scoff, his lax attitude directly opposed her own, if she was honest, she often felt on a different plane than him. Y/N tried to deny it, but she could be highly strung. When she was in a situation where she felt comfortable and safe, she was easygoing, a delight to get along with, and was often confused as someone who was undoubtedly more affable than she really was. 

It was one of the first days of year ten at school when Y/N had experienced her first panic attack. She can still remember the way her hands shook like healthy green leaves in a summer storm, could never forget the tightness in her chest, the closing feeling of her throat, and the tears that blinded her. While the panic attacks had become less frequent as she aged, the underlying symptoms that bubbled into the panic she experienced still tended to rear their ugly heads. 

Harry, on the other hand, seemed endlessly relaxed. While Y/N had initially only seen a more uptight and priggish side of him, it was almost like he enjoyed those negative interactions between them, for the sole reason that he could skillfully get under Y/N’s skin, watch her squirm and burn red. Any other time she witnessed Harry he was almost always equanimous and the voice of reason in the odd little group that found themselves quarantining together. 

He was so comfortable, seemingly so unaffected by her, while she felt his presence made her head spin and heart race. 

He leans closer to her, his curls tickling her collarbone, “are you watchin’ the film?” 

She nods, the action sending a wave of her perfume to invade his nose, the smell somehow so addicting and familiar to Harry now. “Yeh, the sad part is coming soon, though.” 

It’s his turn to scoff, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cry on me.” 

Y/N looks up at him, watching as his bunny-like front teeth capture his bottom lip, “and what if I do, hm?” 

Harry’s first thought is to say he’d get her some tissues and embrace her until the tears seeped into her sullen soaked skin, but he knows that’s even too corny for him. Instead, he looks around the room to find everyone too focused on the movie to pay attention to them, and chuckles lightly, kissing the top of her cheekbone. “Might cry with you love. Poor Bambi, never knew what was comin’.” 

While Y/N looks around the room, she quickly relaxes as she realises no one was paying enough attention to notice Harry’s affectionate action. She stifles a laugh, “we’re in this together then, aren’t we?” 

Harry can’t help but feel like she’s not just referring to a sad Disney movie, but instead the situation they had found themselves in. It was confusing, both of them not entirely over their exes, but both seemingly enamoured with the other, something that felt like it had happened overnight. 

He didn’t know if she felt the same way he did. He simultaneously wanted to fuck the shit out of her and cuddle with her on the couch, for god's sake he wanted to comfort her when she was crying over fucking ‘Bambi.’ Harry was confused. 

He hasn’t felt like this about anyone since Elle, and while Y/N hadn’t spoken about her ex with Harry directly, he had overheard a few snippets of conversation between Sarah and herself. 

Before Y/N had come to stay with the group, Sarah had briefly explained the situation, the fact she had put all her effort into a three-year relationship that had ended brutally, with the asshole showing no remorse towards Y/N or her feelings. Harry didn’t want to push her or himself, but he felt a draw towards her that he couldn’t ignore. 

The way she placed her hand gently on top of his, still laying on her thigh, and tangled their fingers together made his heart swell, and it was at that moment he decided he didn’t care about Elle. For the first time since they broke up, Harry didn’t wish the person he was with was his cheery faced ex-girlfriend. He wanted Y/N, and he hoped with all his heart, she wanted him too. 

He looked over at her, her soft skin and red cheeks glowing gently from the light of the TV screen. 

Harry’s feelings are only confirmed, when he hears the gunshot sounding through the room from the movie, hears a small sniffle coming from the girl next to him, and feels her fingers tightening around his own. Harry knows that somehow, through everything, he wanted Y/N to be there next to him at the end of it. 

—— 

Harry sat stewing in his feelings as the night progressed, each member of the house slowly abandoning the marathon, opting for the warmth of their beds instead. 

If he was honest, Harry was exhausted, but he couldn’t bear to leave Y/N alone. She had waited patiently through everyone else’s choices, sung along with Sarah through ‘The Little Mermaid.’ She had gushed with Mitch over the fantastic visuals in ‘Hercules’ and watched carefully for Harry’s reactions to ‘The Beauty and the Beast,’ squeezing his hand when the last petal fell, and Belle professed her love for the Beast. 

Harry didn’t think it was fair that everyone had chosen bed over watching Y/N’s movie, over singing along to ‘Tangled’ with her. Chosen to sleep instead of talking about how good the animation was and squeezing her hand every time Flynn and Rapunzel were close to kissing. 

So Harry does the best he can. He listens to how excited she gets through the fighting scenes, does his best to sing along to songs he’d never heard before, and listens to her speak about how mean she thought Mother Gothel was. Each scene, he watches her eyes widen in comical child-like glee, and her cheeks flush as she laughs at Harry’s impersonation of Flynn Rider. 

It’s as Mother Gothel is falling out of the window that Harry realises Y/N’s grip on his hand has loosened and that she is resting against his shoulder, asleep. He smiles, bringing his knuckle to brush against her cheek, gently waking her up. As she slightly startles, he kisses her nose, “y’ fell asleep bug.” 

She looks surprised, immediately looking to the screen, “oh shoot. Missed my favourite part too.” Harry can’t help but kiss the small pout that graced her lips as she realises this, which she quickly returns. Harry’s lips tingle as she hums in contentment, causing them to pull apart slightly, Harry touching his lips and giggling. 

It was all so domestic and sweet, a kiss leading to nothing in particular, and Harry loved it. Revelled in the idea of kissing Y/N for the pure pleasure of feeling her soft lips against his own, and for nothing else. As Y/N speaks her lips brush against his, still flush against each other, “we should get to bed.” 

As they both make their way upstairs, hand in hand, they dawdle as if to stall their inevitable parting, and as Y/N prepares to speak their goodbye into existence Harry decides he doesn’t want this night to end. Didn’t want to part from the warmth Y/N provided, to lose the feeling of her face pressed against him or the way her hand felt nestled in his. So Harry does the one thing he can think of, something he may come to regret later, 

“Do you want t’ sleep in my bed tonight? You don’ have to if you don’t want to, of course.” 

Harry observes Y/N’s face, and he feels as if he goes through the same range of emotions as she does. First surprise, then apprehension, her head tilting as she thinks through her decision.

Harry thinks maybe she’s misinterpreting his intentions. Don’t get him wrong, he would jump at the chance to have sex with someone as lovely as her, but he really just wasn’t ready to leave her. Wanted to feel her asleep in his arms, hear the small snores he’s sure she would make and brush her hair away from her face when it looked to be tickling her in the middle of the night. 

“No funny business dove, I promise.” 

Finally, a small smirk graces the young girl's face, her top teeth hooking into her lower lip, a little giggle erupting from her mouth while she nods her head. 

Harry’s face subconsciously matches Y/N’s, a replica giggle floating through his mouth and into the air between them, “yeh?” 

She nods once again, “yeh.” Harry feels nothing but relief, a giddy bubbling feeling erupting from his chest, rushing through to his fingertips. He almost believes she feels the exact same burst of emotion when she squeezes his hand as he pulls her into his bedroom. 

It smells the same as the last time she was in his room, except this time, there was a sense of certainty in the air. While Y/N had previously tiptoed into his private space, terrified of crossing a line both physically and metaphorically, she no longer felt that same apprehension.

She entered the room with confident footsteps, aware that they had already entered a territory in which they would struggle to backtrack from. Aware that Harry would more than likely revel in the fact she was in a space he considered sacred, rather than feel uneasy.

She was correct in her assumption. He watches the way she looks perfectly placed in a room he previously hated anyone else entering, her energy already matching his own, but somehow adding an exuberant light into a space that, before her, had represented his despondency. 

Harry begins getting ready for bed, takes off his pants and shirt, left in only boxers. As the cotton of his top slides over his mass of curls, he catches Y/N staring, her mouth slightly parted, pupils dilated and cheeks pink. 

The cocky boy smirks slightly, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion ever so subtly, and a gust of wind passing through his nose as a form of laughter. “Would you prefer me to keep my pants on babe?” 

His cheeky tone works to bring Y/N from her stupor. She stumbles over her words, clearly embarrassed Harry had caught her ogling at his body, again. “Uh.. no, no whatever’s comfortable, I guess. Do you want to keep your pants on? You can, of course, I just…” 

“Teasing Y/N,” his smirk grows into a grin, his dimple flashing her once again, “I’m only teasing.” She visibly relaxes, her shoulders returning to the normal position, and her eyes closed, trying to shake the remaining embarrassment from her system. 

“You are the worst.” 

He only laughs, “and you take yourself too seriously. Now, do you want a shirt to sleep in?” 

While Y/N might usually be offended by him saying something like that, she knows he’s not wrong. In fact, he’s entirely correct. He just knew exactly how to wind her up, what buttons to push to make a flush rise to her cheeks and for her sentences to become stuttered. 

“That would be nice, thank you.” 

Harry only nods, walking over to the dresser in the corner and rummaging through, pulling out a white shirt with the phrase “enjoy health, eat your honey” on the front. He holds it up in front of his body, waiting for Y/N’s approval, which he quickly receives, throwing it over to her in response. 

She looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to give her the courtesy of changing in private. “Do y’ mind, you lecher?” 

He startles, “oh uh sorry.” Y/N watches as a blush spreads from his cheeks to his neck, a clear sign of his humiliation, and he quickly turns around. 

She changes, giving a soft cough when it’s safe for him to turn around. Harry can hardly believe his eyes, he knew she was beautiful, but fucking hell, it was like an angel had been sent to him from heaven. 

Her legs were soft, and Harry wanted nothing more than to trail kisses up her thighs, past the dotting of stretch marks, patches of missed hair, and the hem of the shirt that sat loosely against her. He could see her nipples poking through the fabric, firm, surrounded by supple flesh, that Harry had trouble to stop imagining. Her face was soft, a pleasant but embarrassed smile pulling along half her face, smoothed by the leftover makeup she hadn’t bothered to remove. 

She was fucking beautiful. 

“Stop looking at me like that you…” 

“Lecher. I know. It’s hard not to be when you look like that.” Her cheeks turn an even darker shade of crimson, and her eyebrows draw up in surprise. Harry didn’t know at what, she was his very own wet dream, and he had trouble imagining that she didn’t know that. 

Unsure of what to say she patters towards the bed, lifting the covers and lying beneath them, facing the side he usually slept on, waiting for Harry to lay in her line of sight. He does, his cheek getting gently squished against the silk pillow, his hair billowing out from his head, creating an unruly mess around his face. 

“I don’t…” she sighs, clearly struggling to string together whatever was going through her mind. Harry grabs the hand laying between them, and gives it a gentle squeeze of encouragement. He had been vulnerable in front of her weeks before they had even shown interest in each other, and he wanted to give her the same comfortable space to talk through what she was feeling. 

She lets out another breath and continues, “I like when you call me beautiful. I just don’t know how to respond, I’m not all that used to it.” She snorts despite herself, “isn’t that sad?” While she’s laughing, Harry can see the sadness set behind her eyes, and so he doesn’t laugh. Only squeezes her hand once more and replies as steadily as he can, “it’s not sad. I understand.” 

Her laugh turns more genuine, “oh so even the Greek god gets self-conscious? Thank god for that.” He quickly matches her jesting tone, “for sure, need to be humbled somehow.” He pulls her closer and rests his head in the crook of her neck, listening as the giggles she emits, vibrate through her body, and he can’t help but smile too. 

He was happy and at peace. And for the first time in a long time, both he and Y/N slept through the night, relief and giddiness seeping through their pores. 

——

Harry awoke in a daze. His arm was numb, his head slightly dizzy and body just a tad too hot. Then he sees Y/N asleep in front of him, head resting on his bicep, hair a mess, and her hand resting on his, placed on the pillow in front of her face, and all of a sudden none of it mattered.

She was beautiful. It makes Harry wonder about the last time they’d woken up together. He remembers feeling scared, denying any comfort he had found within her in his arms, and he wonders if his subconscious had always known she was right for him. 

They seemed to fit together so seamlessly, for a couple who couldn’t stand the sight of each other months prior. 

Harry uses his free hand to sweep her hair away from her neck, leaving a space for him to press his lips against. Her skin was warm, slightly tacky from sweat, and he breathed her in, dragging his nose up and down the nape of her neck. 

He hears her begin to wake, repositioning her legs under the covers and her breath beginning to quicken from the lull of sleep. A small hum of contentment leaves her lips as she feels Harry’s mouth kissing on her skin. 

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he whispers, his breath tickling her. She lets out a laugh, her voice heavy with drowsiness, “morning H.” 

The hand that was already resting loosely in his tightens as she loops their fingers together, “how’d you sleep?” 

He squeezes back, “better than I have in months. What ‘bout you?” 

She leans further back into him and exhales, “so good.” Harry hears the relief in her voice, and he feels it too. Was this all it took to stop his own self wallowing? Being pressed against her? It was like she brought her own kind of calmness to his unstable mind, and while he knew she would disagree with him in saying it, she was a source of purity, a way for him to feel carefree. 

He wanted to tell her, but something was stopping him. What if she wasn’t quite as committed to whatever they were as he was? Harry had never been good with his feelings, preferring to write his emotions into his music. Fuck, sometimes even selling his songs to others to avoid the message coming from his own mouth directly. 

But as Y/N turns around, her mouth inches from his, her eyes wide and doe-like, Harry thinks he’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t tell her how he felt. The words creep up his throat, and he tastes them on his tongue, sweet and rich. “I... I really like you. I’m not sure how you feel about everything. I just know I haven’t felt like this since… well for a while, and that’s kind of scary.” 

Harry closes his eyes, not wanting to see Y/N laugh in his face, as well as hear it. Instead, he feels a soft hand on the side of his face, her thumb gently brushing against his temple, and then softly against his eyelid, coming to rest just below it. “Open your eyes, dummy.” 

He flutters his eyes open, met with Y/N’s gaze, revering and sweet, “I like you too, Harry. Thought I made it pretty obvious.” While Harry loved Y/N calling him ‘H,’ the slow drawl of ‘Harry’ made a shiver roll up his spine.  

He can hardly contain the smile that slips upon his mouth, leaning up slightly and kissing the thumb resting against his skin. Harry feels his heart beat a little harder in his chest, the relief freeing the worry from his lungs, his muscles finally relaxing, no longer having to uphold the weight of stress upon them. 

If he was candid, Harry had never had to fight for anyone’s affection before. As narcissistic as it sounded, people usually gravitated towards him, whether for the right or wrong intentions. But Y/N had stood her ground, immediately unimpressed by his blase and borderline rude attitude and had reverberated his energy right back at him. If Harry was honest, at first he hated that about her, but it had come to represent her honesty. It made the affection she showed him now that much more special. 

Harry felt as if he had earnt her respect and affection, because he deserved it, not the ‘Harry Styles’ found in the tabloids. He had found someone who made him feel like a real person, and a good one at that, someone who deserved the love she so readily gave him. Harry was lucky enough to be lying next to that someone. 

“You’re right… you did drool over me in the shower. Remember that?” And just like that, the moment of vulnerability is over. 

Y/N lightly slaps Harry’s arm and lets out a disgruntled sound, “aish, you really are a lecher.” He laughs and grabs the hand that just hit him, bringing it back up to his face and kisses her palm gently. He looks back at her face, all traces of aggravation wiped from it like cheap lipstick, replaced with contentment instead. She slips her hand back to the side of his neck, her fingertips trailing through the baby hairs laying against his skin and kisses him. Her lips feel slightly chapped but still so warm, and Harry let’s out a relieved exhale. 

He couldn’t explain why, but this kiss felt different from any other he’d experienced with Y/N, hell any other he’d shared with anyone. It had all the intensity and lust of their kiss in the kitchen, added with a sense of emotion that Harry couldn’t quite place. Each press of her mouth, each swipe of her tongue or gentle nibble of his lower lip felt like she was desperately trying to convey every feeling Harry previously doubted existed. 

Harry remembers the night of their first kiss, recalls thinking he had never felt lust like that before, never wanted to kiss someone so badly, but now laying in this bed with Y/N running her hand through his hair and her hips lightly bucking towards him, Harry feels as if he’s surpassed the way he had felt then. 

He feels pure unadulterated need flowing through his veins, can’t even begin to explain how much he wanted Y/N. She turned to fully face him, tangling their feet together and pressing herself further into the kiss. Harry wishes he could give her more, wants to bring every drop of pleasure to her he possibly could, wants to touch and kiss each part of her. It felt as if a spark had lit within his body, beginning at his chest, travelling all the way through to his fingertips, and straight to his groin. 

Harry brings his thigh between her legs, and she takes advantage of it instantly, rubbing against him. He groans as he feels her warmth pressed against his leg, and he can tell she is suppressing her moans of pleasure as she pushes down harder with each gyration of her hips. 

“Tha’s it baby, get what you need.” 

At this, she leans her head back, a mewl erupting from her throat. Harry kisses down her exposed neck, sucking and nipping a love bite into the skin below him. Bringing his hands to her waist lightly, he helps to guide her in grinding against the thick muscle of his leg. 

She grabs one of his hands grappling at her hip and brings it to her chest, where he feels her hard nipple poking through the thin material of her top. He squeezes and pinches gently, hearing her breath hitch directly in his ear, bringing goosebumps to the skin along his arms, her hands grabbing his broad shoulders and neck. 

With his other hand, he slowly slips his thumb past the hem of her sweatpants, running it along the soft skin there. The tickling sensation completely contradicts the harsh action of her hips rubbing against him, causing a shiver to trickle down her spine. Y/N whines into his ear so quietly, Harry wonders if he actually heard her at all. “Please.” 

“What do you need, hm? Tell me.” 

A bated breath parts her lips, “fuck…anything.” She knows it’s not enough, knows Harry wants to hear exactly what she wants from him, but she’s embarrassed. Isn’t quite used to anyone asking her what she wanted and needed, and Harry’s filthy tongue only brings her more unnecessary shame. 

“C’mon Y/N, use your words. I’ll give you whatever you want, just use your word’s for me.” 

Her hands dig into his shoulders, “fingers, please!”

He kisses her temple and murmurs a quick, “good girl,” before dipping his hand completely into the front of her pants, still only teasing along the line of her underwear. 

Y/N’s not sure how much she can take. Every move, every touch is goading and light, clearly trying to provoke her, and as much as she loves it, she needs relief. She grabs at his arm that is currently so close to the place she needs him to be and tries to force it closer to her, harder against her, anything other than what he’s doing now. “Harry… c’mon, please,” she all but cries. 

He chuckles before slipping into her underwear, feeling her wet heat against his fingertips, she was already dripping for him before he’d even touched her. He presses her clit gently while he kisses against her neck, flicking his tongue against the ghost of the hickey he had given her earlier, the pain mixing so deliciously with the pleasure. 

While he had stopped his teasing touches, it didn’t stop him from using his teasing words. 

“This the first time you’ve gotten so wet for me, pet?” She furrows her eyebrows, shaking her head side to side, attempting to hide her face into his neck. He feigns surprise, “no? Filthy girl. Ever touched yourself thinking about me?” She whines, picking up on his teasing, further burrowing her face away from him, trying to hide the very obvious flush that had risen to her cheeks. 

He laughs, nudging her head with his nose, trying to encourage her to show her face again. She mewls once more, the only indication she heard him was the bucking of her hips against his fingers, now inside of her and stroking against her g-spot. 

“Next time, just ask for my help instead,” he murmurs into her ear, biting at her earlobe. She hisses, attempting to press against him even harder, get even closer to him, although it was almost impossible, being pressed flush against each other with his fingers knuckle deep in her cunt. 

He licks against her jaw, feeling the strong bone under the tender flesh, the warmth of his breath blowing against the damp skin of her neck causes her to shiver, “can I taste you?” Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever nodded her head harder, her eyes rolling back into her head, merely thinking about Harry tonguing the sensitive skin between her legs. 

He continues to kiss down her neck, taking extra time to lick against the dip in her collarbones, revelling in the tangy taste of sweat invading his mouth. He sucks her nipples through her shirt, the material clearly wet and spit-soaked once he pulls away, the air surrounding them, making the outline of her areola obvious. 

He presses a few chaste kisses against the swell of her tummy, finally reaching where she needed him most. He slowly pulls her pants down her legs, trailing the hem with pecks against each inch of newly exposed skin. Grabbing each ankle, he pulls the cuffing over her feet, playfully biting at the bone on her ankle, causing a shriek and a giggle to erupt from her and a playful press against his cheek, imitating a kick to his jaw. 

He laughs, batting her foot away from his face. “Oi don’t damage the money-maker!” 

 Y/N bursts out laughing, shaking her head. He was an idiot, but she loved that they can switch between moods so quickly. While she’s still laughing, he’s pushing her legs apart, his hand nearly fitting over the whole surface of her inner thigh. “C’mon love, spread your legs fo’ me.” 

And with that, Y/N stops laughing. 

While continuing to push against her leg, he presses an open mouth kiss against the front of her underwear, already able to taste the heady flavour. Harry can’t help but let out a deep groan, every nerve ending set alight at his mouth finally around her cunt. The tip of Y/N’s tongue tingles with a beg for him to take off her underwear, but Harry acts on his own accord, almost ripping the garment off in his haste. 

If Harry thought the taste of her was mouthwatering through the cotton, the taste of her without it was even better. 

He had meant to tease her, he really had, but he can’t help but lick straight into her weeping hole, moaning at the taste and the smooth feeling of her smeared against his mouth. Spreading her lips with his pointer and ring finger, Harry continues to explore, flicking his tongue against the swollen bud underneath her pubic bone, causing a loud moan to erupt from her mouth. 

“Holy fuck Harry! Feels so good.” 

Harry tucks two of his fingers into her while sucking at her clit, Y/N tugging at his curls harshly in response. 

It feels so good, but Y/N needs more. The feeling of Harry’s fingers is making her skin tingle, and her legs shake, but she wants nothing more than to be stretched out by him. She wants him to give her everything, push into her slowly, stretch her pussy, and finally feel his cum spurting into her. 

So she pulls him up, one hand still intertwined in his hair and the other on his shoulder, scratching and pulling as a hint to bring his mouth to hers. At first, he’s hesitant, grumbling slightly in annoyance, not wanting to part from her, “Harry please, want to kiss you.” 

He gives her one more harsh suck, before sliding back up her body, where Y/N is waiting with her mouth open and her eyes on him. Harry smirks, slipping the two fingers that had just been inside of her against her tongue, feeling more blood rushing between his legs at the feeling of her licking and sucking them as if it were his cock. 

She bites gently, causing a hiss to escape from his mouth as he drags them back out slowly, quickly replacing his fingers with his lips, licking into her mouth.

The tangy taste of her own cum slips past her tastebuds again, and Y/N had never been one to find it hot, but with the salty flavour transferring from Harry’s fingers and tongue, she’d never been more attracted to her own taste. 

Y/N desperately wants to mix his cum with hers, wants to swallow around his cock and feel the intoxicating mixture slide down her throat, “I wanna taste you now.” 

He breathes through his nose heavily and shakes his head, “just want to feel you. ‘M not gonna last long if you suck me off as well.” Y/N whines, but by the longing look Harry gives her pouting lips, it seems he’s not entirely content with his decision either. 

He reaches over her shoulder, digging into the set of drawers next to the bed, giving Y/N the perfect view of his broad chest, littered with tattoos. He looks so tan, his muscles rippling under the smooth skin, and she wants nothing more than to litter it with love bites and scratches. She teasingly licks at his nipple, and he startles, an uncharacteristic giggle leaving his lips as he comes back to lie in front of her, in his hand a condom. 

Suddenly his eyes clear, the lust caused fog fading, “you still okay with this? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

Her heart swells, how was it possible that this Adonis-like man was also so sweet? There was nothing she wanted more than to be with Harry in every way and right now, she needed him inside of her, “yes Harry. Do you?” 

He scoffs some, “fuck yes,” he mumbles his next statement as he tucks his head under her jaw, putting the condom on at the same time, “feel like my dicks gonna fall off, I’m that hard.” 

She laughs, wrapping her arms around him, she’d never felt so happy and complete, so overwhelmed. Every positive emotion was combining within her, creating a whirlwind of passion and love, causing each feeling to increase tenfold. 

The head of Harry’s cock slips through her folds, sending a zap of pleasure through her each time it nudges her clit, and he smirks each time she twitches, unconsciously arching up towards him. “Y’ ready?” 

She nods, moving her hips closer, making her own attempt to be filled by him. 

Slowly, Harry enters her, each inch causing the delicious burn from him stretching her walls increasing. Y/N almost chokes on her own moans, can hardly stand how good he feels or the way her muscles spasm attempting to adjust to the intrusion. It feels as if each ridge and curve was being simulated, each nerve ending firing again and making her head feel dizzy. 

Harry almost looks like he’s in pain with his eyes shut so tightly, Y/N can see the wrinkles surrounding them. His mouth is parted with sharp breaths entering and leaving his mouth, his head hung back, and his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. 

“Holy fuck. You feel so fucking good.” 

At the sound of his voice, Y/N clenches, making Harry cry out. “Move H. Fuck me, please.” 

He begins slowly, pulling out before slamming back into her, reaching so far Y/N can feel him in her tummy. 

He intertwines their fingers and holds them against the pillow her head rests on. She squeezes them, and he leans his forehead against hers, the tender action contradicting the harsh snaps of his hips. “How do you feel so good?” He whimpers. She nudges his chin with her nose, pushing his lips closer to hers, each thrust smearing them closer together. 

“You’re so good to me H,” she whispers back as she wraps one of her hands behind his head, his neck in the crook of her elbow. Using leverage from her other hand against the bed, she pushes her hips upwards, creating double the amount of friction between them. The actions causing both of them to cry out, Harry seeming to be pushed impossibly further inside of her, the head of him nudging against her cervix. 

“Fuck that’s it. Look at you, usin’ me to get yourself off.”

While the new angle felt so good, it was quickly tiring. Harry could see Y/N fatiguing after a few minutes, knowing the burn in her legs would be almost unbearable at this point. So he tucks his arms under her outstretched ones, laying his torso against hers and tucking his head into her neck, kissing lightly as he completely slows down his movements. He stops the whine that leaves her throat with a quick, “shh, it’s okay. Just wanna take my time with you, never want this to end.” 

While running her hand through his curls and holding the back of his neck closer to her chest, she replies, “me either baby.” 

They spend some time like this, just enjoying each other’s company and the feel of being so close to one another. Y/N breathes deeply, the smell of sex in the room mixing with Harry’s cologne, making her relax and let out a contented sigh. She had never felt more full and so satisfied, with a hint of an orgasm sparking between her hip bones, the dull ember just waiting to be fully ignited by his movements. 

As if sensing this, he speeds up once again. The burn that stretches through her legs as Harry pulls them over his shoulders, mixes with the pleasure of his thrusts, the head of his cock nudging her g-spot with each deep drive of his hips. 

Y/N cries out, grabbing at his shoulders, her nails unintentionally digging into the skin, creating small red crescents along the tense muscles connecting his neck to his scapula. 

He just feels so good. Every movement of his hips, each inhale and exhale, each brush of their lips and dig of his fingers brings Y/N even closer to her orgasm. She can’t tell if Harry plans each of these things with her pleasure in regard or if it’s the chemistry between them that’s causing every sensation to be felt tenfold. All she knows is that she would happily lie under Harry for the rest of her life if it meant she always felt this weightless. 

Harry’s balls make a sharp ‘thwack’ against her ass each time he thrusts, the sound of her arousal echoing through the room, in such a crude fashion, Y/N almost has time to feel embarrassed. On the other hand, Harry revels in the sound, loves the fact he can see, hear, touch every part of her arousal, surrounding them in their own cocoon of sex and pleasure. 

“C’mon Y/N, please. Cum on my cock.” While Y/N had already been feeling the building pressure of her impending orgasm, Harry’s words only work to bring it faster. “Please Y/N,” she bucks up against him, chasing the feeling of his pubic bone rubbing against her already sensitive clit. “Good girl. Fuck, you’re my good fucking girl, aren’t you?” She whines a response, the noise high pitched and hoarse. Harry sees Y/N’s desperate search for her finish, and brings two fingers down, rubbing at her clit. 

“Fuck, yes, Harry!” Y/N can’t describe how overwhelmed she is with pleasure and feeling. Her face feels flushed and sticky with sweat, her legs are slightly cramped from her constant strain to get closer to Harry and his cock buried in her cunt, and when Harry brings one of his ring adorned hands to wrap comfortably around her neck, suddenly Y/N feels weightless. She feels the burst of pleasure from between her legs, a zip running up her spine, leaving her limbs with a tingle. 

Harry hears her cum before he sees it, the moans dripping from her mouth, her eyes widening before she’s squeezing them tightly together. Harry knew he would play that exact moment on replay for the rest of his fucking life. 

He watches as she brings her hand up to his that’s still spread around her neck, and Harry almost can’t stand it when he feels her squeezing it tighter, begging for Harry to give her more. If he wasn’t so close to cumming, Harry might’ve teased her, loosened his grip on purpose to watch her squirm and whine, whisper in her ear how hot it was to see how desperate she was for Harry to simply touch her, alas he’s too close. Can barely form a coherent thought, let alone tease her. So instead he appeases her, tightens his grips and begins to pound into her harder, searching for his own release.

Finally, it comes, Harry releasing a deep groan, grabbing onto the pillow next to her head, letting out a deep moan. Both of them can feel each rope of cum, as Y/N’s own orgasm works to milk each drop from him. 

His movements slowly come to a stop, leaving him tucked inside of her as his length softens. Wrapping his arms around her once again, he revels in the warmth and comfort she brings, his lips pressing against hers gently. “Fuckin’ hell.” 

Y/N giggles and nods in agreement. How had they spent so long fighting when this was the result of them getting along. She still feels Harry shifting above her, the aftershocks of her orgasm, creating an increase in sensitivity, each movement from the handsome boy above her sending a jolt through her whole body. 

“Fuck you’re still squeezin’ me pet.” She hugs into him tighter as yet another twitch is brought from his prick still buried deep within her, “mhm, still sensitive but you feel so good.” 

He kisses her soft temple, “lucky for you, in about fifteen minutes, we can go again.” Y/N scoffs, her head leaving the crook of his neck to give him a dirty look only to be met with his deep smirk. His famous dimples indented next to his smile, as he giggles and brushes his nose against the swell of her cheek. 

“You really are…” his giggle is joined by her own. 

“A lecher,” they finish together. 

[luimagines]

Chain Love Language Headcanons

Masterlist

Self explanatory people!

This time I’ll dive a bit into what love languages the chain will be most inclined to exhibit to their loved ones.

First ones are the ones I personally headcanon and the second are the second result of taking this quiz in their stead.

Let’s go down the list!

Hyrule

I’ve talked about this already, multiple times actually, but oh well.

His biggest way to show his love for others is through Physical Touch.

Whether it’s a hand on the shoulder or an arm around you or hugs or hand holding- you name it- he’ll do it.

The next biggest thing would probably be Quality Time.

He doesn’t have a lot of friends and he has low enough confidence to almost expect to be brushed aside and forgotten- sometimes he tries to let it happen on purpose. 

So take the time to listen to him and include him on things and be close to him.

He appreciates it when someone takes the time to pay attention to him and wants to do something with him even if it’s as simple as checking out an old cave or what shined in the distance.

Be his travel buddy, yeah?

Twilight

Twilights would be Acts of Service.

He likes to feel helpful and useful and knows that there’s a lot that he’s capable of doing so he might as well be the one to do it.

He doesn’t want the people he cares about to work too hard or struggle so he offers his assistance whenever he can. (Watch for this, he can be prone to double book himself and take on more than he can chew).

The next biggest thing would probably be Quality Time.

It’s special for him when he can be with someone he cares about and do something or nothing and just exist next to each other.

He like to listen to people when they talk about things and when they listen to him in return just because they want to- even if neither of you know or care about wat the other person is talking about.

Or even if you get to do something together, anything.

Fishing, horse back riding, strolling through Kakariko Village, hiking- just spend time with him.

Four

Four’s love language would be Acts of Service as well.

He’s a man who always has to have his hands moving. He’s always doing something- he always has to be productive- he has to always be making something.

So he’s quick to put himself to work so that the people he cares about don’t have much to worry about. His brain works too fast for him to keep up with some stuff and he naturally shoulders a lot of work anyway. And if someone helps him out with a project he was struggling with of with the chores around the house that he wasn’t to attend to?

Well he’s bound to repay you tenfold.

He doesn’t make the rules just abides by them.

The next biggest thing would probably be Gift Giving/Receiving.

If this boy receives gifts of any kind he’s going to treasure them forever.

It’s going to go on display (if it can).

and since he’s always on the move with his projects, he’s going to constantly be making things for his friends and loved ones. Small things, big things, things they need to work with or repairing their tools and so on- or just getting them new ones all together- you name it.

Legend

Legend’s love language I think would fit best under Quality Time.

He doesn’t have a lot of friends, he doesn’t have a lot of family.

His whole life has been making connections and losing them either through circumstance or through the passage of time- his life has been nothing but goodbyes.

He cherishes the moments he gets to spend with the people he cares about.

Please spend time with him.

His second would probably be Words of Affirmation.

Similarly with the first one, he’s used to being on a deadline, a set amount of time he can spend with a person and he’s tired of getting to the end and looking back and wishing he could have said something different and or told them something else.

He’s quiet when he tells others that he cares about them- he’s got a large pride that keep him from screaming from the rooftops, but he appreciates it when he’s told that people care about him.

He gets in his head that he’s not good enough, that people don’t care and he’s going to be on his own time and time again.

Please tell him you love him and care about him.

He doesn’t have any one to tell him that they’re proud of him.

If he says that he cares about you, he means it.

Wild

Wild’s love language would probably be Words of Affirmation.

A lot of people write him as being the quietest of the group but hear me out.

He still communicates and he’s loves so much, and he’s not going to be silenced anymore in what he thinks either through sign or his voice.

He’ll tell others he loves then, cares about them, that he’d do anything for them and he’d tell them often.

It means more to him if others tell him something of equal of greater value.

He didn’t get to hear a lot of praise and acceptance growing up and even less so when he joined the guard. It was always things he was expected to do and he had to do it without complaint.

Let him know you care.

His second love language would probably be Quality Time.

He’s spent a lot of time on his adventure alone.

And he wants to share the so much of the world he got to experience with the people he cares about. 

He’s lost a lot of people close to him as well and he doesn’t want to take anyone else’s time on earth for granted. It once seemed like they would be around him forever, but now?

He wants to do everything and see everything and he wants to show you as well.

Even if it’s a simply as horseback riding together or just chilling out as it rains- or he goes to catch frogs in the river, he just wants to spend time with the people he cares about, he happens to have a lot of it now so he wants to put it to good use.

Time

Time’s love language would be Receiving/Giving Gifts.

He didn’t get a lot of things for himself as a child and the things that were given to him were of high importance.

It was ingrained in him to cherish and protect the things given to him with his life if need be. He’s more appreciative of the little things though when people give him a small gift that reminded them of him.

Smaller gifts over one large is more his speed.

He doesn’t need much to be happy but he likes giving things to others as a way of showing his love and hoping that they’ll cherish them as much as he cherishes the things he receives.

His second love language would probably be Acts of Service.

He’s always felt the need to be useful and there’s little that he can do.

Besides his time and energy is another way to give someone a gift right?

Even if it’s not the physical sense where he would have close to nothing to actually give you, he might as well give his strength and body and power to those he loves, to protect them, to make sure they’re safe and warm and never needing anything- so that they’re never without.

Don’t let him over work himself because he will.

Warrior

Warrior’s love language would be Act of Service.

He has a weird relationship with it though.

Because it’s always with underlying feeling of still not being enough- there’s more for him to do, everyone is relying on him and he can’t fail his loved ones so he has to give it his all in everything.

He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it more than have the time so you’re going to have to tell him to calm down. He just everyone he loves to be safe and happy and healthy and it ends up running him ragged half the time.

That being said, his second love language is Words of Affirmation.

Because he’s working so hard for the people he loves, he would rather hear that they’re proud of him and that they love him. 

He’s quick to sprout pet names and sweet nothings to his lover and he wants them to know that he cares about them so this guy doesn’t shut up about his love ever.

He’d leave a note for them to find their work place to let them know that he cares about them.

And he tells them daily. 

He’s quick to tell people how much he appreciates them and how important they are to him.

He knows it keeps people going and he never wants to see his loved ones give up.

Wind

Wind’s love language would be Physical Touch.

He’s always hugging someone or holding onto their arms or their hands, it’s just how he like to be close to people.

His sister tends to grab onto his hand at random intervals so he’s used to it and even grows into doing it to other people.

It’s how he shows that he feels safe with people and how he wants to keep those he cares about within reach in case he ever needs to protect them.

His second love language would be Quality Time.

There’s not a whole of people out on the sea and he’s spend a good portion of his adventures traveling alone and even then, it’s just him, his grandma and his sister.

With everyone going out to do their own thing, it’s hard to find someone who will take the time to do things with him so he appreciate any and every bit of attention he can get from other people.

Sky

Sky’s love language would be Receiving/Giving Gifts.

People on Skyloft are not shy about showing affection for one another.

Handholding and hugs and just telling people you’re important to them are all common place.

It’s not a big deal.

But Sky like to go the extra step beyond to give the people he cares about a small token of his love, so that even when he’s not around to say it, or show it, it’s a little reminder that he cares about them.

And yes, this implies he’d little love notes around for his love to find just because he wants to.

His second love language would be Quality Time.

He just likes being around people and it’s the time when he can tell and show people that he care about them.

It’s the time where he can say he cares and hug the people he cares about- they don’t even have to be doing anything- for all they could be doing is going flying together as the sun sets- he lives for the little moments.

Definitely the kind of guy to be up in the kitchen at 3 am, slow dancing with his lover as they take a break from making cookies.

[annyeongffs]

#𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: 𝘁𝗯𝘇 𝗮𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝗺𝘀.

𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻'𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁. 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗌!

𝘅𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗍. 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝖻𝗓.

𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒚𝒆𝒐𝒏:

soft dom / 𝗱𝗼𝗺 / hard dom

• sangyeon isn’t a super hard dom, but he very much wants to be the one in control. whether it’s of you, your reactions, your orgasm, etc... mans just wants to feel in charge. i don’t see him being strict or anything but he’s definitely dominant. will probably prefer to be on top but can sometimes be a power bottom; also is likely into some choking (giving), size kink (have you SEEN his hands?!), and maybe spanking,, nothing too harsh. would be an absolute king at aftercare.

𝑱𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒃:

𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗺 / 𝗱𝗼𝗺 / hard dom

• some see jacob as a switch or sub leaning, but when i tell you he radiates dom energy... he rADIATES. he may look sweet and act cuddly on camera, but something tells me that it’s a whole other story in bed. he probably likes to praise his partners, which makes me think he would also have a slight kink for seeing them in lingerie; not to mention his voice oh my god jacob would be so vocal, i 100% support the jacob bae dirty talk agenda!!! not afraid to tell you what he’s gonna do to you or how he wants you to behave. why can i see him as a soft brat tamer help me- also another aftercare king.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏:

𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗺 / dom / hard dom

• younghoon is soft and cute most of the time, but as a dom i rly see him wanting to act a little rougher. nothing bad or complicated though, no chains or leather... younghoonie would probably prefer more vanilla in bed except that he also wants to be in control. he wants to see you fall apart (probably has a receiving praise kink so don’t be afraid to tell him how you feel!) and he wants to make every inch of you feel amazing. i don’t see him being super kinky but he’s not opposed to a blindfold every now and then.

𝑯𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒋𝒂𝒆:

soft dom / dom / 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗺

• PHEW HOLD ON FOR THIS ONE YALL - hyunjae is the epitome of a hard dom. wants your hands above your head, body against the bed, gonna make you beg. i would literally bet money that this mans is into overstim (giving) like when giving oral he won’t stop until you safeword him. seriously into foreplay and edging (he is SUCH A TEASE) and i could also see him having a sir/master/daddy kink... hyunjae is in control and if you don’t believe it, you better be ready for him to fuck the brat right out of you.

𝑱𝒖𝒚𝒆𝒐𝒏:

soft dom / 𝗱𝗼𝗺 / hard dom

• i considered putting him as a soft dom bc of his sweet personality, but then i watched the breaking dawn mv and was like hmm, nope. mans is a total dom- no whips, no ropes, but when he’s in the bedroom there’s no playing around. he has no patience for brats and will leave you hanging until you submit; juyeon probably really enjoys receiving oral. also he seems like the kind to have a bit of a strength kink, i.e screwing you up against the wall just to prove he can. long story short juyeon will fuck you four ways into tomorrow... but only if you behave.

𝑲𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒏:

soft dom / 𝗱𝗼𝗺 / hard dom

• so even though most of tumblr is in agreement that kev is a massive switch / sub leaning,, we’re gonna talk abt when he doms. kevin def is the type to be into bondage- wants to see you all pretty and tied up for him like a little present. also seems like he’d be really into dirty talk, especially degradation... you’re his slut when he’s domming, no questions asked. i could also see him being into edging, but then again he could be into overstim too. mans just looks kinky af; probably hella experimentalist, willing to try anything once. expect absolute filth from him when he’s on top.

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒉𝒆𝒆:

soft dom / 𝗱𝗼𝗺 / hard dom

• new may not be the hardest dom to exist, but he’s certainly a good one. i get massive brat tamer energy from him- you wanna talk back? fine, have fun getting yourself off. you wanna play? he’s almost guaranteed to win. he won’t hesitate to show you your place... which, speaking of, is probably bent over his knee. wouldn’t be super into hurting you but would probably love to spank you as a punishment for being bratty; could be down for you calling him a title of some sort. won’t choke you too hard but will definitely leave you breathless. also a pro at aftercare, prepare to be swaddled in cuddles when he’s done with you!!

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒎𝒊𝒏:

𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗺 / dom / hard dom

• his vibes were lowkey hard to place... i settled with soft dom bc i feel like no matter how heated the moment is, q’s first instinct is to take care of you. yes, he may be very into dirty talk, and sure, he doesn’t mind some light bondage (silk ties anyone?) but the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. i can totally see him having a thing for body worship (giving) so expect to feel beautiful around this boy; also i feel like q is the type to want you to be loud, wants to hear how good you’re feeling. basically wants to please you and make you feel amazing, but don’t forget that he’s in charge or he’ll say some very morally questionable things. will turn into the softest boy ever when it comes to aftercare.

𝑯𝒂𝒌𝒏𝒚𝒆𝒐𝒏:

soft dom / dom / 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗺

• this might be a bit controversial but,, i get major hard dom feels from hak!!! don’t let his silly side fool you because this is a dom who will push you to your limits every. single. time. probably into rougher, more bdsm-style foreplay; i can picture him wanting you gagged and spread out under him, and pls don’t hurt me for this one i feel like this boy could be a biiiig exhibitionist... teasing you around his members, fingering you at dinner to see if you can keep quiet, even fucking your body right up against a window. but if he does anything that hurts you he’ll instantly back off, i don’t see him wanting to cause you actual harm. def expect kinky sex with haknyeon.

𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒘𝒐𝒐:

soft dom / dom / 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗺

• brats better beware of this man right here. sunwoo will fuck you up so good you won’t remember your name; i can totally see him overstimming when giving oral like ughh, what those pretty lips do baby?? and wanting you to sit on his face. another pro at dirty talk since there’s no way a rapper like him stays silent during sex... also gives off slight exhibitionist vibes but doesn’t actually want people to see you in the act . sunwoo is a nasty little tease who loves to toy with you, edging you while making you think you’re in control when you def are not. ALSO i sense some huge corruption kink energy from him!! wants to mark you up and make you his, to be the only one to fuck you like you deserve. (but try to take control and he won’t hesitate to remind you where you belong.)

𝑬𝒓𝒊𝒄:

𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗺 / dom / hard dom

• tbh i think eric’s a bit too young to be more than a soft dom. while he’s definitely the one controlling the pace and the mood, he probably isn’t experienced enough to know how to command a sub like a true dom. that being said i feel like this boy could be pretty kinky... maybe a bit experimentalist, always curious to find the stuff that makes you both feel the best. could also be into hair pulling (giving) like when his partner is blowing him; however if you pull his hair even a little bit eric will go NUTS over it. i don’t see him wanting to be called anything like “daddy”, but when he’s in bed you both still know who’s in charge. and as long as you’re well-behaved for him, he’ll make sure you’re fucked out at the end of the night.

-

[shkspr]

hi. on your post where you may or may not have ended on 'moffat is either your angel or your devil' did you have maybe an elaboration on that somewhere that i could possibly hear about. i'm very much a capaldi era stan and i've never tried to defend the matt smith era even though it had delightful moments sometimes so i wonder where that puts me. i'd love to hear your perspective on moffat as a person with your political perspective. -nicole

hi ok sorry i took so long to respond to this but i dont think you know how LOADED this question is for me but i am so happy to elaborate on that for you. first a few grains of salt to flavor your understanding of the whole situation: a. im unfairly biased against moffat bc im a davies stan and a tennant stan; b. i still very much enjoy and appreciate moffat era who for many reasons; and c. i hate moffat on a personal level far more than i could ever hate his work.

the thing is that its all always gonna be a bit mixed up bc i have to say a bunch of seemingly contradictory things in a row. for instance, a few moffat episodes are some of my absolute favorites of the rtd era, AND the show went way downhill when moffat took over, AND the really good episodes he wrote during the rtd era contained the seeds of his destruction.

like i made that post about the empty child/the doctor dances and it holds true for blink and thats about it bc the girl in the fireplace and silence in the library/forest of the dead are good but not nearly on the same level, and despite the fact that i like them at least nominally, they are also great examples of everything i hate about moffat and how he approached dw as a whole.

basically. doctor who is about people. there are many things about moffats tenure as showrunner that i think are a step up from rtd era who! actual gay people, for one! but i think that can likely be attributed mostly to an evolving Society as opposed to something inherent to him and his work, seeing as rtd is literally gay, and the existence of queer characters in moffats work doesnt mean the existence of good queer characters (ill give him bill but thats it!)

i have a few Primary Grievances with moffat and how he ran dw. all of them are things that got better with capaldi, but didnt go away. they are as follows:

moffat projects his own god complex onto the doctor

rtd era who had a doctor with a god complex. you cant ever be the doctor and not have a god complex. the problem with moffats era specifically is that the god complex was constant and unrepentant and was seen as a fundamental personality trait of the doctor rather than a demon he has to fight. he has the Momence where you feel bad for him, the Momence where he shows his humility or whatever and youre reminded that he doesnt want to be the lonely god, but those are just. moments. in a story where the doctor thinks hes the main character. rtd era doctor was aware that he wasnt the main character. he had to be an authority sometimes and he had to be the loner and he had to be sad about it, but he ultimately understood that he was expendable in a narrative sense.

this is how you get lines like “were the thin fat gay married anglican marines, why would we need names as well?” from the same show that gave you the gut punch moment at the end of midnight when they realize that nobody asked the hostess for her name. and on the one hand, thats a small sticking point, but on the other hand, its just one small example of the simple disregard that moffat has for humanity.

incidentally, this is a huge part of why sherlock sucked so bad: moffats main characters are special bc theyre so much bigger and better than all the normal people, and thats his downfall as a showrunner. he thinks that his audience wants fucking sheldon cooper when what they want is people.

like, ok. think of how many fantastic rtd era eps are based in the scenario “what if the doctor wasnt there? what if he was just out of commission for a bit?” and how those eps are the heart of the show!! bc theyre about people being people!! the thing is that all of the rtd era companions would have died for the doctor but he understood and the story understood that it wasnt about him.

this is like. nine sending rose home to save her life and sacrifice his own vs clara literally metaphysically entwining her existence w the doctor. ten also sending rose with her family to save her life vs river being raised from infancy to be obsessed w the doctor and then falling in love w him. martha leaving bc she values herself enough to make that decision vs amy being treated like a piece of meat.

and this is simultaneously a great callback to when i said that moffats episodes during the rtd era sometimes had the same problems as his show running (bc girl in the fireplace reeks of this), and a great segue into the next grievance.

moffat hates women

he hates women so fucking much. g-d, does steven moffat ever hate women. holy shit, he hates women. especially normal human women who prioritize their normal human lives on an equal or higher level than the doctor. moffat hated rose bc she wasnt special by his standards. the empty child/the doctor dances is the nicest he ever treated her, and she really didnt do much in those eps beyond a fuck ton of flirting.

girl in the fireplace is another shining example of this. youve got rose (who once again has another man to keep her busy, bc moffat doesnt think shes good enough for the doctor) sidelined for no reason only to be saved by the doctor at the last second or whatever. and then youve got reinette, who is pretty and powerful and special!

its just. moffat thinks that the doctor is as shallow and selfish as he is. thats why he thinks the doctor would stay in one place with reinette and not with rose. bc moffat is shallow and sees himself in the doctor and doesnt think he should have to settle for someone boring and normal.

not to mention rose met the doctor as an adult and chose to stay with him whereas reinette is. hm. introduced to the doctor as a child and grows up obsessed with him.

does that sound familiar? it should! bc it is also true of amy and river. and all of them are treated as viable romantic pairings. bc the only women who deserve the doctor are the ones whose entire existence revolves around him. which includes clara as well.

genuinely i think that at least on some level, not even necessarily consciously, that bill was a lesbian in part bc capaldi was too old to appeal to mainstream shippers. like twelve/clara is still a thing but not as universally appealing as eleven/clara but i am just spitballing. but i think they weighed the pros and cons of appealing to the woke crowd over the het shippers and found that gay companion was more profitable. anyway the point is to segue into the next point, which is that moffat hates permanent consequences.

moffat hates permanent consequences

steven moffat does not know how to kill a character. honestly it feels like hes doing it on purpose after a certain point, like he knows he has this habit and hes trying to riff on it to meme his own shit, but it doesnt work. it isnt funny and it isnt harmless, its bad writing.

the end of the doctor dances is so poignant and so meaningful and so fucking good bc its just this once! everybody lives, just this once! and then he does p much the same thing in forest of the dead - this one i could forgive, bc i do think that preserving those peoples consciousnesses did something for the doctor as a character, it wasnt completely meaningless. but everything after that kinda was.

rory died so many times its like. get a hobby lol. amy died at least once iirc but it was all a dream or something. clara died and was erased from the doctors memory. river was in prison and also died. bill? died. all of them sugarcoated or undone or ignored by the narrative to the point of having effectively no impact on the story. the point of a major character death is that its supposed to have a point. and you could argue that a piece of art could be making a point with a pointless death, ie. to put perspective on it and remind you that bad shit just happens, but with moffat the underlying message is always “i can do whatever i want, nothing is permanent or has lasting impact ever.”

basically, with moffat, tragedy exists to be undone. and this was a really brilliant, really wonderful thing in the doctor dances specifically bc it was the doctor clearly having seen his fair share of tragedy that couldnt be helped, now looking on his One Win with pride and delight bc he doesnt get wins like this! and then moffat proceeded to give him the same win over and over and over and over. nobody is ever dead. nobody is ever unable to be saved. and if they are, really truly dead and/or gone, then thats okay bc moffat has decided that [insert mitigating factor here]*

*the mitigating factor is usually some sort of computerized database of souls.

i can hear the moffat stans falling over themselves to remind me that amy and rory definitely died, and they did - after a long and happy life together, they died of old age. i dont consider that a character death any more than any other character choosing to permanently leave the tardis.

and its not just character deaths either, its like, everything. the destruction of gallifrey? never mind lol! character development? scrapped! the same episode four times? lets give it a fifth try and hope nobody notices. bc he doesnt know how to not make the doctor either an omnipotent savior or a self-pitying failure.

it is in nature of doctor who, i believe, for the doctor to win most of the time. like, it wouldnt be a very good show if he didnt win most of the time. but it also wouldnt be a very good show if he won all of the time. my point is that moffats doctor wins too often, and when he doesnt win, it feels empty and hollow rather than genuinely humbling, and you know hes not gonna grow from it pretty much at all.

so like. again, i like all of doctor who i enjoy all of it very much. i just think that steven moffat is a bad show runner and a decent writer at times. and it is frustrating. and im not here to convince or convert anyone im just living my truth. thank you for listening.

[heartsgallery]

I agree about most substantially deliberate HSM parallels ending on s1. I feel like Josh and Sofia's chemistry as Ricky and Gina was an unexpected goldmine that fell in Tim's hands and he adjusted accordingly (possibly rewrote portions of the script or changed character backgrounds/stories or personalities) after all the screen tests with every actor! I may be in the minority, but I feel like original plans for the show were supposed to keep R*ni the whole time and will they wont they them like some annoying Ross Rachel rehash but Tim couldnt waste the potential of Rina (tested the waters with those middle eps and boy did we fishes snap at that fishing line 😂). That's why s1 sometimes feels disconnected with the pivot to Rina and the abrupt pivot back to R*ni (like 2 different stories). Season 2, he really started delving deep into Rina and you can see so clearly the groundwork he laid out for an angsty Rina will they wont they slow burn that failed with R*ni in s1. The interesting part is you can see in the narrative that Tim has written and has been writing Gina as the "Gabriella" lead since s1, even though Nini is presented as primary lead. Honestly that's why s1 has a disconnect to me sometimes too because it feels like the wrong protagonist is being followed and the wrong story being told?? if that makes sense.

Now I feel like though he's not persisting on HSM parallels, he is dropping little hints as reminders to keep viewers on track. Costuming for example, is sometimes deliberate. One of the biggest someone paralleled was the Troyella floral pink and blue, which Rina got 😮 Ricky's skate rate style imo has never been shirts like that, and though it works, the departure from his typical style just to make him wear that blue orange striped shirt seems deliberate too. It's a subtle but blatant iykyk kind of thing but if you don't, you'll blink and miss it kind of thing at the same time. The person who found that link should get applause! Cuz technically yeah, both pw and Rina have had "Troyella" moments this season, but the costuming seems like a deliberate way to subtly remind viewers that if you get baited by the pw "Troyella" HSM 2 thing, you'll miss the actual story playing out here. It's really quite brilliant that it makes me want to go back from the beginning and rewatch to find more of these interesting ways he's been foreshadowing Rina!

ahh first of all THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THISSSSSS!!!! i loved reading all of it.

while i mostly agree about everything about this, i’d only discuss on the part that rini was set to be on and off. like i can imagine it being like that definitely, but also they were always doomed and they made it clear in the s1 finale that they will never work again like they did once (not all couples are meant to be together… sometimes people change). rini’s arc is strangely to me one of the best on the show. probably the most coherent and cohesive writing between s1 and s2. everything about it was hinted and it makes so much sense that is so hard for me to believe it wasn’t planned since day one.

i definitely think seeing the rina chemistry changed a lot in the future of the series i so agree with that. i mean, tim himself said that after they shoot the car scene he was so shook and he wanted to keep writing towards that (and did!). but like rini, s1 rina finale set up was so amazingly done that sometimes it’s just hard to believe that it wasn’t planned since the beginning. tim has always been so messy and talked about how he wanted to explore all the chemistry between the cast (and he did because why everyone dated everyone in the core four😭) and also with his rants since the very s1 about how he grew up with dawsons creek (very known for his surprising ship that ended up going down on history), so i think the possibility rina has always been the plan exists. i mean, he did write the car scene before he saw them so he was already planning something with them…

the part about how s1 felt weird because it felt like they were following the wrong protagonist is so so so true. gina having the whole moving away all the time storyline just as gabriella wasn’t a coincidence at all. also nini not having any gabriella trait besides playing her in the show😭 i mean, if you look at it know, it kinda makes sense. the show making you think nini was ricky’s troy gabriella, when at the end of the day it was always gina👩‍💻

also i love that you pointed out the costume thing because i agree with that, specially with ricky wearing that kind of stuff because it’s not really his style so it def seems on purpose. i think someone also pointed out that his spin dip shirt or the one in the clip he’s singing in the finale (they look so much alike so idk which one) were the same as troy’s in the hsm2 poster. if we’re talking about troyella real parallels that’s what we should talk about!!!

again thank u so much for dropping this here❤️❤️🫶🏻

[antebunny]

never fear, your fairy godmother is here!

(It's Wei Wuxian. He's the fairy godmother)

Wei Wuxian is riding high off a difficult case finally closed when the next call comes through. He’s staring aimlessly into the beautiful delta waters of Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng when the tingling begins, a familiar sensation somewhere in his chest that tells him that somewhere is a worthy human in need of a guide for their happy ever after.

“–So then I thought, well what am I supposed to do? She doesn’t want a lover or a partner, but her future isn’t fame or riches either.”

Wei Wuxian isn’t sure that Jiang Cheng is actually listening to him, but he’s very proud of himself, so Jiang Cheng can suck it up. He’s used to finding his new charges in difficult and tragic circumstances, but he’s rarely found someone in quite such a sticky situation as poor Qin Su.

“And she insists that she doesn’t have someone in mind,” Wei Wuxian continues. “So you know what I did?”

“Uh-huh,” Jiang Cheng says vaguely, because he’s not listening at all. “Very cool.” He’s not a very good brother, Jiang Cheng. Well, they’re not related, but they also weren’t really born, they just kind of exist, so Wei Wuxian doesn’t worry too much about it.

“I found her a whole team!” Wei Wuxian finishes proudly. “I got a doctor from Qishan, who was looking to get away from her family, and her little brother, and a top disciple from Lanling, and boom! Team of four! That’s a family right there. They’re going to be friends for life.”

“Do you ever consider not boasting about yourself?” Jiang Cheng wonders out loud.

“Hey,” Wei Wuxian objects. “I’ll have you know I’m the number one fairy godmother!”

Jiang Cheng merely rolls his eyes. “As you haven’t stopped saying for the past hundred years.”

“Well, it’s–” Wei Wuxian stops mid-sentence and puts one hand behind him on the wooden planks of the boardwalk so he doesn’t collapse when his stomach rolls.

“Another one?” Jiang Cheng demands. “So soon?”

“I’m in high demand,” Wei Wuxian says weakly.

“But jiejie and I have spent all day making a celebratory dinner,” Jiang Cheng says, dismayed. Then he corrects himself. “I mean, jiejie’s spent all day making dinner for us! Do you want to disappoint her? Do you?!”

Wei Wuxian stands up. If he wasn’t still flushed with success, if only he’d listened to the odd, twisting sensation that said this was not a normal case of a damsel in need of true love, perhaps he would’ve stayed. Perhaps none of what followed would have happened. But perhaps it was always destined to happen.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” Wei Wuxian declares foolishly, and vanishes.

He appears in a thematically dark and twisted forest near sundown. The wind is whispering ominously through the leaves. Wei Wuxian pushes aside a branch in order to enter the clearing from which an ugly sobbing sound is coming from. It must be his new client.

By the light of the dying sun, Wei Wuxian can make out a hunched form dressed in fine white robes. The crying is quiet, but the person’s back shudders. They seem to be holding something. Wei Wuxian takes a moment to adjust. A great pair of black and red butterfly wings appear on his back. Humans more readily accept that he’s capable of inhuman feats if there’s something inhuman (but non threatening) about him. He usually goes for crow or raven wings, but he thinks the current setting might be a little inappropriate for that. Many of Wei Wuxian’s fellow fairy godmothers also opt for fancy robes, but Wei Wuxian’s never really felt comfortable with them.

Wei Wuxian clears his throat. “Hello,” he calls.

The man–because it is a man, Wei Wuxian quickly realizes, with a beauty he’s come to expect from his clients, and a cultivator’s sword–whirls around. He hasn’t got a very expressive face, but Wei Wuxian has spent hundreds of years around people. His client’s eyes are wild, disbelieving. He’s got a Lan ribbon on his forehead, one of the inner clan, if Wei Wuxian isn’t mistaken, and he never is. There are two tear tracks running down his cheeks, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Wei Wuxian steps closer. His new client staggers to his feet and looks away, but whatever he was holding or looking at is gone. When he looks back at Wei Wuxian, there’s an awestruck look of recognition on his face. Wei Wuxian grins, pleased to see that his influence has reached the ears of humans.

The man takes one shaky step forward. He seems to be trying to drink in Wei Wuxian’s presence, soak him in just by looking at him. Wei Wuxian can’t blame him. He is very impressive.

On that thought, Wei Wuxian spreads his arms wide. “Never fear, mortal! Your hour of distress has come to an end!” Above their heads, a cloud drifts away and allows the moon to beam through, bathing Wei Wuxian with soft light. “It is I, Wei Wuxian, your fairy godmother!”

Now his client is just staring at him blankly. Wei Wuxian’s grin falters. He lowers his arms and clears his throat. “Perhaps you didn’t h–”

“What’s a fairy godmother?” The client interrupts.

Really?

Wei Wuxian sighs. “I am in charge of finding you a happy ending, in whatever form that may take,” he answers.

He waits another beat. This is usually where his clients start thanking him.

The man does not look very impressed. “How does that involve butterfly wings?”

“I–!” Wei Wuxian starts, very offended and very taken aback. “I…thought they would be less threatening than crow wings?”

The man stares at him. Wei Wuxian vanishes the wings with a thought.

“Well, if you have a preference, just let me know,” Wei Wuxian grumbles sulkily. “I am at your service, after all.”

“That is unnecessary,” the man says flatly. The tears haven’t dried but he’s composed himself. He turns away from Wei Wuxian deliberately.

“What do you mean?” Wei Wuxian asks, chasing his client through the clearing when the cultivator starts to walk away.

“I am not in need of your help,” the ungrateful bastard says.

“Wh–! Yes, you are!” Wei Wuxian argues. “I wouldn’t be here if there weren’t a worthy damsel in distress in need of my services.”

At that term damsel in distress the man turns and gives him a withering, wintry glare. It’s under-cut by a deep well of loss, pain, and sadness that Wei Wuxian is convinced he can see on his client’s face. And to the rejection of damsel of distress, he can only shrug. It’s true.

“I’ll have you know I am the top fairy godmother,” Wei Wuxian says, in reply to the glare, as pretentiously as he can. “For the past hundred years. I have never failed a client. Whatever it is you want, true love, honor, treasure, a kingdom, I can find it for you. I promise you I have seen it all before.”

His client finally stops running away from him. Wei Wuxian saunters up to him. “If it’s love you’re worrying about, people are less narrow-minded than you think. There’s bound to be someone out there who’s exactly who you’re looking for. Well, most of them. Actually, my clients are sometimes a little narrow-minded. One of them specifically requested that I find a true love for him that had never been turned into an animal. A little narrow-minded, don’t you think?”

At this point, Wei Wuxian is up in his face, and his client is starting to look a little overwhelmed. Wei Wuxian backs up, gives him a little space. The Lan cultivator turns to look at the spot in the clearing where he’d been kneeling before Wei Wuxian showed up.

“Can you bring back the dead?” His client asks abruptly.

Wei Wuxian falters. “That’s–ehhh, that’s a, uh, gray area. Kind of depends. I’m going to lean towards no. Yeah, feels like a no. No necromancy here. I have definitely never done that before.”

The righteous Lan cultivator actually has the nerve to look disappointed in him. “Then I have no use for you,” he says stiffly, and starts to walk away again.

“Okay, hold up!” Wei Wuxian splutters, hurrying after him. The man does not hold up, forcing Wei Wuxian to keep pace through the dark forest. It’s no problem for Wei Wuxian, but rather rude, all things considered. “How rude! Here I am offering to solve your life’s problems and you question my abilities–you know I once created a whole celestial mountain for one of my clients–hey! Think of my reputation,” he begs, when his rude client continues to walk away. “I have never, ever failed a client before. Think of how it would look if one of my clients just walked away! Just give me a chance. Please. Please?”

His runaway client finally stops running away, right in a thicket of trees. Wei Wuxian almost bumps into him.

“This is important to you?” His client asks finally, without looking back.

“Oh yes, very,” Wei Wuxian knows immediately, because that’s the thing about his clients. They’re all good people, whether they’d like to admit it or not. The only people who like to help more than them are the fairy godmothers. “It would make me very happy to make you happy.”

The man’s shoulders relax ever-so slightly. “Very well.”

“Yes!” Wei Wuxian fist-pumps. He glances up at the moon, reminding himself that humans have to do things like eat and sleep. “Okay, first things first, I’ll get you home,” he decides. “Tomorrow we can–”

“I have no home,” his new client interrupts in a dispassionate tone that suggests this subject has one too many emotions for him to handle.

Wei Wuxian raises an eyebrow internally and thinks of his Lan clan ribbon, but says nothing. He merely mentally files this client into the hundreds of lost-their-home clients that have come before him. There’s no telling why his new client lost his home. Usually they tell Wei Wuxian about their woes willingly, without Wei Wuxian having to beg them to burden him with their problems. But there’s a whole host of solutions to the no-home problem, exactly none of which Wei Wuxian can think of when the man reaches up and pulls his forehead ribbon off with trembling fingers.

“Um,” Wei Wuxian warbles. He averts his eyes from the now bare forehead. Later he’ll chalk it up to the difficulty in acquiring this client and the subsequent need to prove his powers that leads him to suggest: “W-what about my house?”

His client turns to face him. He looks a little shocked, but mostly confused.

“I live in the heavenly Lotus Pier,” Wei Wuxian says grandly. Well, he tries to say it grandly, but it comes out matter-of-fact. “I’ve got plenty of room. And you needn’t worry about politics up there.”

Slowly, his client nods, his face unreadable.

“Great,” Wei Wuxian says brightly. He reaches for his client’s hand, ignores the scandalized look he receives, and vanishes both of them to Lotus Pier.

They appear in a pavilion at the end of one of the many boardwalks. Enormous pastel lotus flowers dot the still waters. In the distance, the still waters cascade into a roaring waterfall that pours off the edge of the heavens. Above them, the sun is setting. Wei Wuxian’s client is winded from the sudden travel, so Wei Wuxian doesn’t let go of his hand. The scent of fresh water and spice sets in.

When the client steadies himself, Wei Wuxian tugs him out of the pavilion. The human’s eyes widen as the halls of Lotus Pier come into view, and Wei Wuxian smirks to himself. That’s the only reason why he’s sad that humans don’t come to Lotus Pier. He’d love a chance to show off his home more.

His client is still trying to take in the magnificent sloping roofs, the purple clouds and the dusk orange sky, when Wei Wuxian urges him into a walk.

“Come on,” Wei Wuxian says, still smiling widely. “We’ll be late for dinner.”

[imagine-being-straight]

A Message to the TOH Fandom

I’m tired.

I feel like everyone in the fandom can agree that the TOH fandom overall has white favoritism. If you actively deny that we have a problem with white favoritism or are offended that I said this, look at yourself and other people who have been talking about this issue. Really look at yourself and ask why you are offended by what I said. Now back to the TOH fandom’s problem with white favoritism. It’s a huge problem and I don’t think people have realized how bad it’s gotten.

Luz and Amity

Do both of them have amazing content created about them? Yes, but if you look a bit closer to the contents of their contents you’ll see a clear disparity between the two. Luz is more likely to be in Lumity art (which itself isn't a problem), but the problem lies in that she is only there for Amity. Is there still content with her alone and highlighting her character? Of course there is, but for every content that exists for Luz solely, there are at least two others for Amity. Don’t get me wrong I love Amity as much as the next person, but she still is a side character. The Owl House focuses on Eda, King, and Luz mainly. They are the main characters.

When I first joined the TOH fandom, I noticed a lot of Amity focused content. A lot more so than I expected since she is a side character. I understand that a factor in her popularity is her crush on Luz and we’re all really excited for confirmed gay characters, but it doesn’t explain how popular she is. She appears in roughly half of season one’s episodes (I know she technically appears in 11 episodes, but some of her appearances are so minor you can easily forget they happened) compared to Luz being in all 18 episodes. Yes Luz isn’t always the focus of these episodes, but she still changes and develops as a character through most of them.

The reason I’m bringing all of this up is that Amity is white and Luz is a POC. Characters of color in the past have been overlooked and underappreciated in the past, not just in this fandom, but it still happens a lot here. Whether it’s conscious or not, we all have been affected by white favoritism and it is our responsibility to recognize it and change. The Owl House brings more than just gay representation: it brings an Afro-Latina Bisexual protaganist with two major side characters, Willow and Gus, being a mixed Asian-Black character and a Black character. You still think I’m full of shit saying there’s white favoritism in the TOH fandom? Well I’m just getting started here.

Willow, Gus, and Boscha

Boscha herself is an interesting character and I think people see a lot of potential for her character, but the problem is that she overshadows a lot of other characters who are much more important and relevant. Willow is a good example of someone who has been constantly overshadowed by Boscha. Most content I see of Willow is usually Boschlow content (I’m not approving or condemning Boschlow here, this is me just stating some facts) and it’s so unfair to Willow as a character. Willow is more than just Luz’s friend or a quiet girl and more people need to realize that. If you can analyze Boscha’s character in the three episodes she is in, you can do the same thing to Willow, who has been in 14 episodes (three more than Amity). There is no excuse for the lack of Willow content and the abundance of Boscha content.

The same thing can be applied to Gus. Sure he doesn’t get very much screen time, but it is still loads more than Boscha. I have seen barely any content about Gus and the few times I do, he is usually with a group and not alone. No one talks about him and I cannot express how underrated he truly is. If you want some funny content with him, play around with his interest in humans and how he has totally misinterpreted things we know as facts. If you want Gus angst, then write about how young he is and how he could be feeling inadequate despite being smart enough to skip two grades. Amity is seen by the fandom as a whole as being extremely smart, but the fact that Gus skipped two grades, a feat Amity has not done herself, truly showcases how smart Gus really is. It’s not that hard to make Gus content and everyone is just sleeping on him.

The fandom loves to attach itself to Boscha, who may I remind you is white. Willow and Gus, who have way more plot relevance and screen time, are constantly pushed aside for more and more Boscha content. Willow and Gus are beautifully written in the show, but most people overlook it for Boscha, who in the show has been fairly one note so far. If your only argument is that you want to show the background characters some love, then where is the Skara content? Skara has just as much screen time as Boscha, but I’ve seen very little content about her. I guarantee if Boscha was a POC she would have the same level of content as Skara, but since she is white she overshadows literally every other POC supporting character, including those who have had more screen time than her. Don’t even get me started on the Detention Track kids and Emira/Viney. This post is already long enough and I don’t need to make it any longer.

Camilia and Alador/Odelia Blight

Right here is the clearest example of the white favoritism of the TOH fandom. Alador and Odalia Blight have gotten so much content about them and we still haven’t seen their faces. You can easily find so much analysis on them and how their parenting must affect the Blight siblings. You can find so much content about them and we know literally nothing about them other than the fact that they’re abusive. I know Alador is set up to be less abusive than Odalia, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is still abusive to his kids. Whether he approved what was going on or not doesn’t matter because he was still complacent with what was happening.

Now let’s look at Camilia and all her content- oh wait there is basically none for her. All the Camilia content is basically nothing other than CamilEda content (again I’m not trying to bash or approve CamilEda, I’m just trying to state some facts). Camilia did make a mistake in setting Luz to the camp, but that does not make her a bad mother. People need to remember one bad action does not make a bad person. I think Dana herself said that Luz and Camilia do love each other, but they do have their differences, which makes things hard sometimes. Camilia truly does care about Luz and tries her best to do what‘s best for Luz and more people need to recognize it. There is so much untapped potential with Camilia’s character, like how she will react to Luz not coming home or what she will do to try to get Luz back. What if she sees all of the recordings Luz has made for her? How will she react? These are all things we can make content on, yet I see so many people sleeping on it.

Now when you compare how the fandom treats both Camilia and the Blight parents, there’s a clear bias in favor for the Blight parents. The Blight parents are given more attention and content despite having less actual screen time and being actual pieces of garbage. Camilia is shoved to the side despite there being plenty to analyze about her and her relationship with Luz. Camilia is also a good person, which is clearly different to the Blight parents. It’s never been a matter of which parent/child relationship is better because they’re both written very well, but rather the fact that Camilia gets shoved aside every time we talk about parent/child relationships. I mean when you look at it, Camilia and Luz’s relationship with each other is literally the Blight family’s dynamic, except the opposite. The only difference between the two families is that one has POCs and the other is white. And to no one’s surprise, the white family gets more attention and analysis than the POC’s family.

Statistics

If you’re still not convinced here's some cold hard evidence that white characters are more favored than POC characters. I’m going to be using AO3’s (archiveofourown) data on how many works a character is tagged in.

On AO3 at around 6:35 PM EST Oct 3, 2020, The Owl House had 1921 works. As we can see Luz is number one (as she should), Willow is number three, and Gus is number four. They’re ranked fairly high (which was a surprise to me), but when you look at how many works they’re actually in, the white favoritism becomes clear. Amity is tagged in around 1480 works and Willow and Gus each are in 730 and 610 respectively. Willow and Gus are in half the works Amity is. Somehow Willow appears in half the works Amity does even though Willow appears more than Amity in the show. Boscha also has 360 works with her in it, half of what Gus and Willow’s works despite being a very minor character who has appeared only a few times. What's worse is that Edric and Emira are literally 200 to 60 works away from Willow and Gus respectively. Edric and Emira, two white characters who have appeared in literally three episodes, but are tagged in nearly the same number of works as two main POC-supporting characters. Now maybe you’re like “Oh the Blight siblings are only so popular because of Lumity, this data is skewed” so the next picture is of all the characters with all of the romantic relationship tags excluded.

The data shows that the fandom favors the white characters so drastically that there is no excuse or other explanation for it. Lumity being popular doesn’t explain why Amity is still the third most written-about character, even with the Lumity tag being blocked. Quantity of episode appearances doesn't explain why Willow has less content about her because Willow appears in three more episodes than Amity does. The only explanation is white favoritism because the most popular characters are all white (with the exception of Luz, but that’s because she is the main character). Before you tell me “Oh it's because they’re more interesting or they have more potential” actually look and analyze the POC characters because they’re amazingly well written if you actually sit down and analyze them.

Why Calling Out White Favoritism Matters

Now you may be asking: why should I care? Well you should care because the fandom as a whole is literally favoring white characters over POC characters, which is low key racist. It makes people care less about POC characters and actual people which can lead to some internalized racism if not caught early enough. The Owl House tries very hard to highlight their POC characters and actively ignoring or dismissing them is disrespecting the show itself.

I feel like I should make it clear that I’m not shaming anyone who’s favorite character just happens to be white. What I’m doing here is being critical of whether or not a person likes a character because they are white (whether that decision is conscious or not). There is a clear difference between “Oh X is my favorite character, but I recognize the other characters are good in their own ways.” and “Oh I love X and only X. I will only use the other characters to further X’s character and completely ignore everyone else’s complexity”. Please take some time and think about why you like a character and see if you unconsciously love them because they are white. No one is immune to it and even I had to realize I was unconsciously favoring white characters while writing something The Owl House related.

The sad part about all of this is that it needs to be said that racism is bad. It needs to be said that white favoritism is extremely toxic and we should make sure we don’t actively take part or be complacent in it. I know for a fact that other POC have seen this white favoritism, but are too numb to say anything about this because they feel like their voices won’t change anything. The few people who have spoken out haven't been listened too. The fact that I had to step up and make this just to try to get people to listen and I might not even make a difference is so sad to me. The fact that I’m young makes me not numb to the white favoritism. The fact that I dealt with, for the first time, racism at the age of 14, which is extremely late for a POC. The fact that the only reason I can be mad about this is because I dealt with racism so late that I have energy to speak out against this and not be numb to this all. I hate that all of this exists and we all let this happen. We all let this problem fester and now it is now our responsibility to get our priorities straight and change. If we let this problem grow and grow, then in a few years this fandom will be a shell of what it once was.

“We can do this together.” -Luz Noceda