#weird because i enjoyed a lot of the set books in secondary school. but i just didn't read a lot at home for a very long time

[thedissociatives]

relearning over the past three years just how much i love reading has done wonders for getting me off my phone

[invisibleraven]

2024 Reading List

So as some of you may know, I am a big reader. I love books, and strive to read as many as I can in a year. I usually hit around the 40 mark, and this year I managed to get to 55. Below is my list of books with a short review.

This year I also challenged myself to read more classics, and a good deal of those are free from the Kindle store, so I managed to get loads to keep me in books for awhile. I also took advantage of Spotify having audiobooks now, so I devoured a good few on there as a result. I do prefer a physical book over either of these options, but they were way more affordable and accessible which was a plus for me.

PS: If you ever wanna be friends on GoodReads, DM me!

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin: I really enjoyed this one, even if I wanted to smack the characters upside the head more than once, and I think the major conflict of the book actually could have been solved by some polyamory. Melancholy in places, but so worth it. 4.5 stars

The Death I Gave Him by Em X. Liu: A Hamlet retelling set inside a lab, where Horatio is an AI, and his relationship with the Hamlet character gets weird. Interesting premise, okay execution. 3 stars.

School Age Care In Canada by Kevin Bisback: I had to read this for school, it was a boring textbook, as most textbooks are. No rating.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman: Man, this one was weird. I'm honestly not the biggest fan of Gaiman's writing and just found this one a little confusing and off-putting. 2.5 stars.

Check Please! Book 1: #Hockey by Ngozi Ukazu: One of my favourite webcomics in book form. If you've read it, you know. If you haven't, it's still up on Tumblr and being uploaded to Webtoons right now, so go give it a look. 4.5 stars.

Check Please! Book 2: Sticks & Scones by Ngozi Ukazu: See above, 4.5 stars.

Heartstopper Volume 5 by Alice Oseman: One of my other favourite webcomics in book form. It's great, go read it again before the next (and last) chapter finishes, or check out the really well done Netflix show. 5 stars

The Shakespeare Oracle Kit: Let the Bard Predict Your Future by A. Bronwyn Llewellyn: So a few years ago my sister gifted me a Shakespeare themed tarot deck. This is the book that goes along with it, explaining the meanings of the cards and the characters assigned to them. A little dry tbh. 3 stars.

A Match for the Marquess by Alexis Pryce: So this is a CaptainSwan fanfic with the serial numbers filed off, written as a WW1 era romance novel. It's enjoyable either way, though after reading the fic, you have a harder time reading it as it's own thing, and some of the conversion could have been better handled. 3 stars.

Egyptian Gods: Discover the Ancient Gods of Egyptian Mythology by Stephen Weaver: Basically an information dump on who the major gods of Egypt were. I found it pretty dry and not very engaging, which is a shame, because I think it's an interesting subject matter. 2.5 stars

My Antonia by Willa Cather: I am finding this book really unmemorable, which is a shame, because I think I enjoyed it while I was reading it. I don't think I was overly fond of either of the main characters though. I think Willa's writing is just not for me. 3 stars.

Grimm's Complete Fairy Tales by The Brothers Grimm: This book was a slog. It was over 600 pages, and I found a lot of the tales I wasn't familiar with repetitive, preachy, and filled with a lot of historical attitudes that today would be considered very Anti-Semitic and extremely racist. 2.5 stars.

The Rose Gate by Hanna Sandvig: A Beauty and the Beast retelling set in modern times with some world jumping and fairies. I usually love fairy tale retellings, but I wasn't wowed by this one, and I wasn't a big fan of the secondary characters. 3 stars.

Stone Heart by Katee Robert: A novella set in an overarching series about Greek gods set in a modern setting. This one is a story about Medusa and Calypso, where Medusa is a contract killer, and Calypso is her mark. I was really hoping to like this, as I want to check out the rest of the series but I left fairly disappointed. We'll see if I come back. 1.5 stars.

Snow so White by C. Gockel: A Snow White retelling, where the handsome prince is Jack Frost, and along with the evil queen, there are also vampires, and magic. A muddled mess of a book, with a cringey romance, and a very confusing subplot with the sister of Jack that I still don't fully get. 1.5 stars.

Animal Farm by George Orwell: I'd say most of you had to read it for school at some point, so you know the story. If not, it's an allegory of the fall of the Russian empire and the rise of communism there. I hadn't read it in probably 20 years, so it was a nice refresher on a story that I remember enjoying, but not loving. 3 stars.

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen: This was my first time reading this, and I was just kind of meh about it. I love the story, but I think I'd rather watch it as performed by Emma Thompson and Hugh Grant than read it again. 3 stars.

Caging Ella by Andie M. Long: A Cinderella retelling, with vampires! And oh boy does it suck! I had to force myself to finish it, the writing and story is so bad. Definite avoid if you like either genre. 0.5 stars

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde: I set myself a challenge this year to read more classics and this was one of them. But I found myself disliking the characters, finding the prose overlong and boring, and the story itself not as engaging as I had hoped. A disappointment. 2.5 stars.

Across Dark Seas by Clare Sager: A prequel novella to a pirate series. I really liked this book-I found the setting and characters interesting, the writing well done, and I definitely want to check the series out in future. If you like a swashbuckling heroine, check it out, you can find this one free from the Kindle app! 4 stars.

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon: Woof, this book was long, and at times it was hard to keep all the different stories straight as there are multiple different POVs. However I really enjoyed the story, and definitely want to check out the prequel novel and anything else set in this universe. 4 stars.

Making It So by Patrick Stewart: Listened to the audiobook, but still counting it. Honestly this was a very interesting listen, as Sir Patrick has lived a long and interesting life. However, some of his stories made me lose a little respect for him as a person, so go into it with that warning. 3.5 stars.

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath: To be honest I found this book kind of boring? Like I wasn't really engaged with it, or the characters, and have mostly forgotten it, which speaks volumes. 2.5 stars.

Mick & Moira & Brad by Gerald Everett Jones: Another romantic story where polyamory could have solved a lot, and I went into it expecting some polyam leanings, but nope! Stupid love triangle. However the characters are all so unlikable with so little chemistry I don't know if a threesome or more would have helped. 1.5 stars.

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens: I am gonna confess, I am not a Dickens fan. I enjoy A Christmas Carol, but everything else by him I have read I have ending up not liking and this is no exception. Despicable characters, boring plot. 2 stars.

Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing by Matthew Perry: Another audiobook, and god, that was a mistake. I found it so morbid listening to Matty talk about how he should be dead now that he is, and the slur to his speech made it hard to listen to. This book just made me so sad for the man that was and could have been. In need of major edits, and hard to follow in places. Go in knowing you will feel sad reading it now that he's no longer with us. 3 stars.

Ink and Incantation edited by E.V. Everest: An anthology of YA short stories surrounding books and/or libraries. I found some of the stories really engaging, though none enough that I wanted to read the worlds they were set in, as they focused on minor characters. I did skip one or two that the writing was just really poor. 3 stars.

Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw: I enjoy My Fair Lady (aside from the end) so I wanted to read the roots of it. The musical definitely adds some much needed character beats, and makes everyone way more likable. The only point I will give this in its favour is having a better ending than MFL. 2.5 stars.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald: There is no one great in this story. The characters are unlikable, the plot meandering, and overall, it wasn't for me. 1.5 stars.

Slow Dance by Rainbow Rowell: I wanted to like this book, Rainbow is probably my favourite author. But god I couldn't fucking stand Shiloh, I found the smut to be very poorly written, and the timeline being all over the place very hard to follow. I am so disappointed by this book, a major miss. 2.5 stars.

Infants, Toddlers, and Caregivers by Janet Gonzalez Mena & Dianne Widmeyer Eyer: Another textbook I had to read for a course I'm doing for work. No rating.

Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson: I think I prefer the Muppet version. Or the Treasure Planet version. But if you take a drink every time Silver says "By thunder" then you will be very drunk very fast, so maybe that will improve the dry writing. 2.5 stars.

The Tempest by William Shakespeare: A play by the Bard that I had yet to tackle. Wasn't great, wasn't terrible, would probably enjoy seeing it performed more than just reading it. 3 stars.

Psyche and Eros by Luna McNamara: A retelling of the classic Greek Myth, set amongst the Trojan war. Really well done, though I feel some Classics majors will not like the liberties taken with the story. Overall a good romance though. 4 stars.

The Love of My Afterlife by Kirsty Greenwood: The first half has a lot of second hand embarrassment, but if you can get through it you will get an enjoyable enemies to lovers romance in the end. 3 stars.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Future by Michael J. Fox: Enjoyed as an audiobook. Written as something you would give to a recent graduate, full of some advice, some stories, and some reflections on life. 3 stars.

The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx & Friedrich Engels: One of those books I read to say I did, the ideas are interesting, execution a little dry. 2 stars.

Make Me a Mixtape by Jennifer Whiteford: Honestly got this thinking it would be a good idea for a JatP Au (and it would) but found a delightful romance (even though I do hate the miscommunication trope) and a solid read. 4 stars.

Neon Gods by Katee Roberts: I am always here for a Hades & Persephone retelling, but this one was them in name only with a lot of kinky sex and a mafia undertone I could have done without. Doubt I'm coming back for more of this series. 3 stars.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky: Confession time: This is my favourite book of all time and I re-read it every year or so-well over 20 times by now. I still love it just as much as I did when I first read it over 20 years ago. 5 stars.

Dust by Alison Stine: A truly great coming of age novel with some climate change thrown in. I really like how the dialogue reflected the main character's deafness as well-really well done. 4.5 stars.

The Answer Is...: Reflections On My Life by Alex Trebek: Written as a series of vignettes rather than a true autobiography, and like it was written like it should be instead of the want to do so. Plus Ken Jennings is a truly boring narrator. 3 stars.

On Silver Wings by Sydney Winward: A very short little novella featuring enemies to lovers, mythical creatures, and a whole lot of snow. Could do without the instalove out of nowhere, but cute for what it was. 3 stars.

The Sun Also Rises by Earnest Hemingway: I felt like I got plopped into the middle of the story with no real explanation over who the characters were or why I should care about them. All I know is they like to drink, they are all pretty anti-Semitic, and in love with the woman who had no personality other than sleeping around. 2.5 stars.

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller: Fuck Achilles. No seriously, I have no idea what Patroclus saw in him other than his good looks and massive ego. I enjoyed the story, but I found the romance kind of wanting, and thus the tragedy didn't hit me as hard. 3.5 stars.

Fangirl, Vol 4: The Manga by Rainbow Rowell & Gabi Nam: Fangirl is probably my second favourite book of all time, and I have really enjoyed the manga adaptation. Kinda sad it's over, and it's making me want to re-read the novel again. 5 stars.

Talking To Canadians: A Memoir by Rick Mercer: I have always loved Rick Mercer, so getting to read his memoir was a treat, but this was actually a re-read and I did the audiobook version this time, which brought it to life a little more. 4 stars.

Lore Olympus: Volumes 5-7 by Rachel Smythe: Lumping these three together, but if you like the Hades/Persephone myth, this webcomic is probably the best retelling of it there is. Definite recommend. 4.5 stars.

The Road Years: A Memoir, Continued by Rick Mercer: The reason I re-read the first was so I could finally get to this one. A continuation of Rick's life, though I felt the non-chronological order of the book turned me off a little, and it felt a lot lighter than the first book. Still a great read, but go in expecting less. 4 stars.

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens: I re-read this one pretty much every year at Christmas, and this year was no different. Though this year I did do the audio book as read by Sir Patrick Stewart as Dickens December is behind an app and I couldn't be bothered to dig out my copy. 4 stars.

Hamlet by William Shakespeare: My favourite play by the Bard (Midsummer's Nights Dream is very close second) and I have read it about 7 or 8 times now. Always enjoyable, even if you wanna shake Hamlet most of the time. 5 stars.

The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde: Ah miscommunication and mistaken identities at it's finest. It was stupid and silly, and I honestly enjoyed it more than I thought I would. 3 stars.

The Princess Thieves by Alexander Shaw: I listened to the audio drama, which I think is the superior way to enjoy this story. But if you are looking for a fantasy adventure story set in an alternate England, I highly suggest you check this one out. 4.5 stars.

[sunflowervolvimp3]

changes (best friend!harry)

Warnings: language, nsfw content, drugs (marijuana) and alcohol

Pairing: best friend!Harry x reader

Word Count: 17k (holy shit)

A/N: So this started as two requests I had in my inbox that I got way too into and then it became this. this may be the longest stand-alone fic I’ve ever written, and it, like watermelon sugar, is dedicated to touching!!!! I spent so long on this so as always. feedback is appreciated. and if you like it, please reblog it!!! reblogging is the best way to show fic writers your appreciation <3

{masterlist}

Unless she’s reminded otherwise, Y/N always thinks of herself as a teenager.

This, of course, isn’t true. She turned twenty-six a month ago, works as a media producer for an online clothing company, and lives alone in a one bedroom apartment in London.  However, unless she physically has something in front of her to remind her of her real age and the passing of time, Y/N disregards this information.

Usually, the reminder is a bill in the mail, or a phone call to remind her that she needs to book an appointment with her doctor.  Usually, the reminder is an ache in her back, her glasses prescription getting worse, or realizing that she has no idea what her teenage cousins are talking about when she sees them at Christmas.  Usually, the reminder is enough to give her pause, but not enough to throw her for a loop.

This time, however, the reminder is her childhood best friend naked in her bathroom.

Y/N and Harry had been friends since they were in primary school, after Y/N had moved to London with her mother.  Their new house just happened to be next to Harry’s, and Anne and Y/N’s mother had quickly hit it off.  Anne had been quick to volunteer her son to be Y/N’s tour guide at school, and despite not being enthusiastic about each other in the beginning, the two began to grow closer by the end of Y/N’s first week there.  Within a month, the two were inseparable, and that didn’t change as they entered their teen years, started secondary school, and Harry left London to become a member of the most famous boyband in the world.  Just typical teen things.

However, despite their distance, Y/N and Harry had remained as close as ever.  They constantly texted, called, and video chatted with each other, and Y/N even joined Harry on tour a few times (with permission from her mother).  Although both of them had been worried when Harry left, their worries and fears never came to fruition.  Just as they balanced each other in personality, they balanced each other in lifestyle—when Y/N needed a break from high school and university, Harry brought her to shows, award ceremonies, and parties, and when Harry felt like his fame was overwhelming, Y/N sent him reminders of home, hosted countless movie nights for him, and told him story after story of university life.

They were so perfectly matched that, when they were younger, many people—and tabloids—suspected that they were dating.  Even their mothers had asked them, on occasion, if one of them had any interest in the other.  However, their answers were always the same.  Y/N and Harry were best friends, and nothing more.  Sure, they were touchy, affectionate, called each other pet names, and had even kissed on a few occasions during truth or dare at parties, but none of it actually meant anything.  Y/N had watched Harry grow from a cute kid to an awkward teen to a self-assured man, and her feelings for him had never changed, and an attraction to him had never developed.

Until now.

Harry’s facing away from her, his towel in his hand as he dries his chest.  His entire body glistens with water from the shower.  Y/N can’t stop herself from letting her eyes canvas over every inch of his smooth arms, toned back, down lower to his—

Her breath catches in her throat.  Yeah. His ass is toned, too, she thinks to herself, and only has another moment to think that she shouldn’t be looking before Harry glances over his shoulder, alarmed by the small sound she had made.

“Y/N—” His eyes widen a bit, but he doesn’t make an effort to cover himself with his towel very quickly.

Her eyes automatically follow his movement for a moment before she realizes what she’s about to see. “Sorry!” Y/N turns around quickly, her face heated. “Sorry, I—the door was unlocked, I didn’t realize you were—”

“It’s fine.” Harry fixes his towel around his waist. “Don’t worry about—”

Y/N leaves the bathroom before he can finish his sentence, walking to her bedroom quickly and shutting the door tightly behind her.

Harry, it seems, is today’s reminder that she’s no longer a teenager, because his body is that of a man.

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, she tells herself, walking to her dresser to pick out a change of clothes.  Y/N’s seen him half naked countless times.  The whole world has seen Harry half naked countless times.  But she’s never seen him like that.

When did Harry grow up? Somehow, between movie nights and pool parties and going away to school, Y/N had failed to notice that her childhood best friend is no longer a child.  Harry had grown into his features, developed muscles in his arms and chest, tattooed designs all over his skin, and had become an incredibly attractive adult without her noticing.

Y/N pulls her pajamas off quickly, stopping to glance at herself in her full length mirror.  She, like Harry, is also no longer a child. She had grown into her features like he had, had gotten a few tattoos, made her share of mistakes, and became an adult the same way he did.  Neither her nor Harry’s growth had happened overnight.

As she runs her hand between her chest, down her stomach, brushing her hip, Y/N can’t help but wonder: has Harry noticed that they’ve grown up?  Does he still look at her and see the shy little girl, the developing teenager, or does he look at her and see a grown woman?  Is she the only one who’s been late to the party?

Y/N feels a flutter in the pit of her stomach.  Is it possible that, at some point, Harry looked at her and had the same realization that she had a moment ago?  That not only had she grown into a woman, but that she had grown into an attractive woman?

The sound of the bathroom door opening distracts Y/N from her thoughts, and she hurries to finish getting dressed.  Her shirt, she finds when she pulls it on, smells a bit like Harry’s cologne, as she had set it on the side of the bed that he slept on the night before.  She likes it more than she should.

After she’s dressed, she debates just staying in her bedroom to avoid facing Harry again for a bit longer. However, she can hear him working her coffee maker in the kitchen, and knows she can’t hide in her bedroom like a child.  She isn’t a child.

Neither is he, she thinks to herself as she touches her bedroom doorknob. Which is the problem.

Still, Y/N shakes herself from her thoughts and walks out to her kitchen.

Harry, now dressed in wide leg jeans and a plain white t-shirt, is leaning against her kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand.  His hair is still wet from his shower, but other than that, he looks normal. Completely normal.

And yet, Y/N can’t manage to meet his eyes.

“Good morning.” Harry’s voice is low, a bit of amusement in it as he notices her demeanor. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” Y/N hates how tight her voice is as she grabs a mug from the kitchen cabinet. “I slept fine. Did you?”

Harry nods, his eyes still tracing her every move as her own eyes avoid him. “I did.  Woke up a bit early, though.  Thought I’d shower before brunch.”

Right.  Brunch.  They’re having brunch that day with a few old friends, at a place just down the street from Y/N’s apartment, which is why Harry had stayed over the night before.  Y/N was going to have to act normal around their other friends, which means she can’t avoid looking at him for much longer.

“I’m sorry.” She says as she pours a cup of coffee. “I am, I—I should’ve knocked.  I forgot you slept over, and—”

“It’s fine, Y/N.  I should’ve locked the door.” Harry says easily, the corner of his lips tugging up. “It’s not a big deal.  Besides, it’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

At that comment, Y/N pauses. “Except…I haven’t seen you naked before?”

Harry shakes his head adamantly. “No.  You have. There’s no way we’ve been friends for almost twenty years, and you haven’t.”

“Harry, believe me. I’ve seen you in a lot of weird positions over the years, but I’ve never seen you completely nude.” Y/N feels her regular ease with him begin to return, just a little bit. “I would remember that.”

“Would you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, his coffee cup half raised to his lips.

The bit of ease that returned disappears immediately. “I—” Y/N’s cheeks heat up again. “Shut up, you know what I meant.”

Harry tries to hide his laugh behind his coffee, but fails. “I’m just teasing you, love.  It’s fine, promise.  I don’t mind that you saw.  I’m very comfortable in my body.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Too comfortable, I think.”

“Is there such a thing as being too comfortable in your body?” Harry asks in a teasing voice, crossing his arms.

“When your best friend walks in on you naked and you don’t bother to cover yourself?” Despite the blush on her cheeks, Y/N manages to laugh. “Yes.  There is.”

“I don’t know…” Harry finishes his coffee and sets the mug in the kitchen sink. “It sounds like there’s issues with your comfort, not mine.”

Before Y/N can form a reply, Harry shoots her a smirk and walks out of the kitchen.

For the rest of the day, Y/N does her best not to think about that morning’s awkward encounter. Brunch with her friends is normal, and she just lets herself enjoy having Harry home, and catching up with everyone.  The afternoon also passes in an unremarkable way, as does that night.  Over the next few days, however, things begin to change.

Within two weeks, the atmosphere of the country has shifted.  There’s a virus that’s highly contagious and can be fatal, Y/N’s work tells her to work from home, and soon the entire country is being told to stay home to avoid catching Coronavirus.

And then Harry texts her two days later, without any warning or leeway for her to disagree.

I’m on the last flight back to London.  Pack a bag and bring some groceries to my place, so we can isolate together.  You’ll go crazy alone in your flat.

Y/N tries to reply that it’s not necessary, but her message doesn’t go through.  Harry’s already on the plane.  So she does what he says, and packs a bag of clothes, her work bag, some alcohol, and her favourite snacks, and drives over to his house.

Letting herself in with her key, Y/N begins to bring the house back to life.  She lights Harry’s candles and orders some dinner, as well as groceries for the next couple weeks.  She makes sure she gets his favourite foods, and the weird snacks that only he likes.  She calls her mum to tell her she’ll be with Harry, and Anne, to tell her the same thing. And then she waits.

When Harry finally walks through the front door, he looks more like the tired seventeen year old on his first tour than the grown man she had seen a few weeks ago.  The bags under his eyes are evidence of his jetlag and stress, his jacket is rumpled from the plane, his hair just as messy, and he looks like he could collapse the second the door closes behind him.

“H.” Y/N walks towards him and gives him a tight hug.  One hand goes to his back and the other to his hair, playing with it as she always does. “Are you alright?”

“Long flight.” Harry mutters in reply, eyes closed as he holds her tight. “Everyone’s going insane in the States.  I’m lucky I got a flight back to London.”

“Why did you?” Y/N pulls back, brushing his messy hair from his eyes. “You could’ve stayed in LA.”

“Yeah, but…” Harry shrugs a bit. “I knew you’d be alone.  And I wanted to be with you.”

Y/N can’t help the soft smile that creeps onto her face. “C’mon.  I have dinner ready.”

Harry barely makes it through dinner with his eyes open, but still insists on watching a movie after. Y/N tries to tell him that he should just go to sleep, but he won’t hear it.

“We can watch it in my bed, like we used to when we were little.” Harry gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

Y/N shoves his shoulder. “You’re twenty-six.  Stop pouting to get what you want.”

“I’ll stop pouting when it stops working.”

Y/N laughs in spite of herself. “Fine, but shower first.  You smell like a plane.”

Of course, as predicted, Harry starts to drift to sleep within the first half hour of the movie. He slips down in the bed more and more, until his head is in Y/N’s lap completely.  Out of habit, Y/N begins to play with his damp curls, running her fingers through them at a steady pace as she watches the movie.

Harry’s breathing begins to even out as she does, and Y/N begins to pay more attention to him than the TV.  When they spend the night with each other, Y/N always falls asleep first.  It’s rare she gets to see him completely relaxed.

As much as she loves his green eyes, his eyelashes may be a close second.  They’re so long and dark that they almost make Y/N jealous.  And his cheeks…she brings one hand up to gently touch them.  They’re stubbled from his long day of travel, but the skin underneath feels soft. Despite having lost his baby fat years ago, there’s still a layer of tenderness in his body.

Y/N is so distracted by him that she doesn’t realize that she’s stopped playing with his hair, not until Harry speaks up.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice is groggy with exhaustion, lower, with a thicker accent.  His words slur together as well

“Hm?” Y/N hums in her throat in response. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Not really.” Harry’s eyes stay closed as he shifts his position a bit. “Will you play with my hair a bit longer?  Feels nice.”

The movie credits roll in the background as Y/N does what he says.  Harry sighs contently, relaxing back into her again.

Y/N turns the TV off, so the only light in the room comes from the moon through the open curtains. It shines over half of Harry’s face, catching the ends of his eyelashes.  Somehow, the moonlight makes his cheeks and lips even more pink.  

“You’re really pretty, y’know that?” Y/N says it absentmindedly, her fingers still combing through Harry’s curls.

“Thanks.” He has just enough energy to mumble a response. “’M, not as pretty as you, though.”

Y/N’s stomach flutters when he says it, so quiet that she’s not even certain she heard him correctly. “Liar.”

“’S true.” Harry’s reply is even less audible than before. “So pretty.”

If Harry was awake and more present in the conversation, Y/N might tease him.  She might try to make him blush, or roll his eyes, or laugh. Maybe, just maybe, she’d even ask him to elaborate, just enough that she could figure out what the fluttering in her stomach means.

But Harry is hardly awake right now.  And it wouldn’t be fair.

“Go to sleep, H,” is all Y/N says, shifting to lay down a bit more without pausing the movement of her fingers.

…

It takes Harry a few days to readjust to London time.  While Y/N spends her weekdays working from the kitchen table, Harry naps and fiddles with his guitar and journal.  While she can tell he’s working on something, Y/N can also tell that he’s not making much process.

A week after coming back from LA, Harry half stomps into the kitchen during the afternoon, frustration clear on his face as he opens the fridge and grabs an apple.  He bites into it angrily and leans against the counter, the irritation still on his face.

Y/N glances at him from behind her laptop. “Everything alright?”

Harry gives half a shrug. “Trying to write.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Fucking sucks.” Harry takes another bite of the apple. “I thought I’d feel more inspired, being at home and not having deadlines, but I can’t get anything out.  Not anything good, anyways.”

“I know the feeling.” Y/N sighs as she closes her laptop. “There’s been a huge surge in online orders, and my boss wants me to create more promo material, but it’s hard to focus on anything right now.”

Harry nods and glances out the window. “Doesn’t help that it’s a beautiful day, but we can’t go out.”

“We can go out.  We just can’t leave the property.” Y/N replies. “You have a giant backyard.  Why don’t you use it?”

“Yeah.  Maybe I’ll go for a swim.” Harry takes another bite of his apple. “You want to come?”

Y/N laughs a bit. “Unlike you, H, I have a real nine to five job.  I’m on the clock for another two hours.”

“After, then.” Harry tosses his apple core in the compost and gives her a grin. “I hope you packed that yellow bikini.”

Y/N crumples a piece of scrap paper in her hand and throws it at him. “Piss off.”

Y/N did, in fact, pack her yellow bikini.  However, when she’s changing from her clothes into a swimsuit, she chooses her blue bikini instead, just to have a bit of agency.  Every instinct in her is telling her to wear what Harry said to, and it’s a little concerning.  She’s never cared about dressing for him before, and she isn’t prepared to start.

Despite the different colour, Harry still grins from the edge of the pool when he sees her walk out. “Look at you.  Should’ve put you in the Watermelon Sugar music video.”

“Shut up.” Y/N sits on the edge of the pool, dangling her lets in the water.  Harry rests his head on his arms, his cheeky grin still on his face as he looks up at her.

“I’m serious.” He says innocently. “It was a fun day.  You really would’ve liked it.”

“Of course you thought it was fun; you had a bunch of beautiful girls fawning over you and feeding you fruit.” Y/N rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses. “You’re such a narcissist.”

“All musicians are narcissists, love.  At least, the best ones are.” Harry’s grin grows as he pushes away from the ledge. “Are you going to just sit there and look pretty, or are you actually going to swim?”

“I’m going to tan.” Y/N leans her head back, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun.

Harry shakes his head. “No, sorry.  The pool is for swimming only.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

In hindsight, Y/N should’ve known what Harry was about to do.  She’s been friends with him long enough that she knows how his brain works. However, Y/N is enjoying the sun so much that she lets her guard down for one moment, and that one moment is all Harry needs.

She feels his hands grip her legs, and before she can stop him, he pulls her into the pool.  Her entire body submerges, and when she finally rises, gasping for air, the only thing she can hear is Harry’s snickering.

“You’re such an ass!” Y/N hits his shoulder hard, not caring about leaving a mark on him. “That’s not funny!”

“The pool is for swimming only.  I told you.” Harry can’t stop laughing long enough to make it through his sentence clearly. “Them’s the rules.”

“Them’s the rules.” Y/N repeats in a mocking voice, hitting him one more time. “You’re the worst.”

“Maybe, but you’re stuck with me.” Harry runs a hand through his wet hair. “At least until quarantine is done.”

“I should’ve stayed alone in my apartment.” Y/N mutters, tossing her wet sunglasses on the pool ledge. “Would’ve been so much more peaceful.”

“And boring.” Harry points out. “And you wouldn’t get to take relaxing swims like this!”

“Right.  Relaxing.” Y/N splashes him playfully. “Jerk.”

Harry just grins at you.

…

“Want one?”

Y/N glances at Harry as he packs loose marijuana into a wrapper, concentration clear on his face as he rolls it.

“You learn how to roll those in LA?” Y/N asks, taking a sip of her wine.

Harry chuckles lightly, his skin illuminated by the fire burning in front of them and the moon above them. “Yeah.  I’m not very good, though.  Usually I have somebody else to roll them for me.”

“So high maintenance.”

Another low laugh rolls out of Harry’s mouth. “Ha.  High maintenance.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but an endearing smile is on her face. “It’s still illegal in the U.K., you know.”

“I doubt the police are going to break social distancing rules to arrest me for it.” Harry’s tongue pokes out of his mouth as he tries his best to roll the joint tightly.

Y/N watches as Harry brings the wrapper to his mouth, licking it lightly.  To her dismay, her attraction to Harry had yet to fade, and spending every moment of the day together wasn’t helping.

“I’m not an eighteen year old girl on your tour bus anymore, Harry.” Y/N raises her wine glass. “I drink red wine now.  I’m sophisticated.”

Harry snorts, his eyes flickering to her before looking back down at the joint. “Sophisticated, right. Like you didn’t do body shots off the bartender at your birthday party this year.”

Y/N’s cheeks burn. “Birthdays don’t count.”

“Neither did tour buses, and neither does my backyard in the middle of a pandemic.” Harry seals the joint as best he can. “You may have a fancy job now, but you’re still my Y/N.”

His Y/N.  That phrase ignites the now familiar flutter in her stomach and, over the last few days, her core.  Something about Harry identifying her as his drives Y/N insane, even if it’s nothing new.

“And what exactly does your Y/N do?” She manages to say after a moment.

“She doesn’t take shit from anyone.  She gets drunk fast and high faster.  She’s always down for a laugh.  And, although she won’t admit it, she has a tendency to make bad decisions that she tries to suppress, but can’t always manage to do so.” Harry sparks his lighter and sticks the joint between his lips, lighting it and puffing it quickly.

“Then you should know that your Y/N can’t have a joint of her own.” Y/N steals the joint from Harry’s lips, taking a few puffs of her own from it before handing it back.

The smoke curls in her lungs, forcing a few coughs from her.

“Alright?” Harry asks, concern in his eyes.

Y/N nods, her hand pressed to her chest like she can stop the burn. “Yeah.  Just haven’t done that in a while.”

“You always cough so much. It would be cute if it wasn’t so bloody concerning.” Harry says casually, lifting the joint to his lips and inhaling.

Y/N watches as he exhales smoke slowly.  She wonders if she looks as attractive as he does when she blows out smoke.

Harry grins at her with just the corner of his mouth, like there’s a secret tugging at the edge of his lips.

Y/N really doubts it.

“Here.” Harry places the joint between her lips. “Inhale slowly.”

Y/N does as he says, doing her best to keep from coughing until the joint and his hand is away from her face.  Her eyes burn a bit, both from the smoke and the oncoming high that’s starting to twist through her body.

“That’s a good girl.” Harry praises her before leaning back, placing the joint back between his own lips. “You’ve gotten better at that.  Thought you were going to pass out the first time we smoked, remember?”

“I remember I almost did.” Y/N giggles to herself as she settles down into the couch more. “I coughed so much that I thought I was going to die on that tour bus.”

“Niall was certain you had.” Harry laughs too, and Y/N known they’re both playing back the same memory. “Wasn’t quite sure how we were going to explain that one to Paul.  Neither was I, honestly.”

“You don’t give me enough credit.” Despite the feeling coming over her, YN still takes another sip of her wine. “I was fine.”

Harry nods as he finishes the joint, setting the butt down into his ash tray. “Still…we had some fun nights on the bus when you were there.”

“That was a fun summer.” Y/N agrees, her eyes fixed on the fire before them. “Lots of good memories.”

As Y/N watches the fire, Harry watches her.  He lets another moment or two pass before speaking again.

“When you were on tour with us that summer…” He rubs his lips absentmindedly. “You and Niall.  Did you two ever…?”

“What?  Fuck?” The weed and the alcohol take away the careful tone of Y/N’s regular speech, leaving honesty and bluntness behind.

Harry laughs once. “I was going to say date, but yeah.  I guess so.”

“We didn’t date. We fooled around a few times.” Y/N shrugs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He was fun.  But we both knew it wasn’t anything serious, just something to do while I was on tour with you.”

Harry nods a bit, reaching for his own drink and taking a sip.  Y/N watches the movement with heavy lidded eyes.  His arm muscles flex underneath his tattooed skin when he moves, and the way his fingers wrap around his glass is fascinating to her.

“I figured he would have told you.” Y/N pulls her sweater around her tighter.  Now that the sun has set completely, a chill has appeared. “You guys always talked about girls together.”

“No, he didn’t tell me. And I didn’t ask.” Harry keeps his glass in his hand, looking down at it with an unreadable expression. “I thought you might tell me, but you didn’t, either.”

The substances in Y/N’s system are clouding her mind, but she does her best to focus on Harry’s words. As a way to ground herself, she pulls her sweater away from her body, hoping that the cold air will help.

“I’m sorry.” She says slowly, like it takes all her effort to get the words out. “I didn’t mean to…hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh.” Confusion fogs Y/N’s mind. “Then…why is it bothering you?”

“It’s not bothering me.” Harry denies, finishing off his drink. “I was just wondering why.  You usually tell me everything.  You always have.”

Y/N bites her lip. “I don’t tell you about every person I sleep with.”

Harry hums low in the back of his throat, but offers no other response.

After a few minutes, Y/N stands up. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Twisting his empty glass around in his hands, Harry nods. “Alright.  I’ll be up in a little bit.”

“You know, you have a guest room.” Y/N pauses, fiddling with the bottom of her sweater.  Her skin feels unsettled, and the fabric against it isn’t helping. “I should probably start using it.  Social distancing, and all that.”

Harry looks up at her, a stubborn look reflecting in his eyes. “No.  I sleep better with you beside me.”

When Harry finally comes up to bed an hour later, Y/N is still awake, eyes closed, with her back away from the door and head toward the wall.  She doesn’t turn over when she hears the door creak open, and instead just listens to the rustling sounds of Harry changing, going to the bathroom, washing his hands, and returning to the bedroom.

Y/N feels his weight on the bed, but doesn’t hear him slide in next to her.  Instead, she does her best to stay completely relaxed when she feels his fingers brush against her hairline, pushing back a few loose strands.

Staying completely relaxed, it turns out, is easier thought than done.  The moment Harry touches her, Y/N feels the nerves in her face burst to life. It’s like electricity, like nothing she’s ever felt before from any previous touches from Harry.  Behind her closed eyes, Y/N feels her head spinning, but she’s certain it must be the weed and the alcohol in her system.

Finally, the sheets are pulled back, and Harry gets under the covers.  He pulls Y/N back against him, and Y/N can feel the hot skin of his chest pressed against her shoulders.  Harry takes a moment to adjust before sighing, almost in content, and then he presses a gentle kiss to the back of her shoulder.

The tender action leaves Y/N speechless.  The action itself isn’t new; they had always been very physically affectionate with each other.  But there’s something about the moment that Y/N can’t quite place a finger on. Perhaps she would be able to if she was sober, or less tired, but with her brain in its current state, the words she needs are lost, and she’s certain she won’t remember the feeling in the morning.

Harry inhales deeply, his nose buried in her hair, and sighs again.  Y/N can feel him relaxing back against her, but his arms stay wrapped around her tightly.  It’s a comforting embrace, and makes it easy for Y/N’s mind to finally quiet and drift off.

…

“You’re still working?”

Y/N looks up from her laptop to see Harry standing above her, sweaty from his workout.  His hair is tied up in a little ponytail on top of his head, and he has a towel wrapped around his shoulders that he uses to wipe sweat from his face.  His body is literally glistening in the sunlight, and Y/N suddenly finds it very hard to focus on her work.

“I am.” She says finally, closing the lid of her laptop and stretching out on the beach chair. “Or I was. I’m done for today.”

“Good.” Harry sits down on the chair next to her. “I’m going to have a shower, but I was thinking we should try baking something later.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I want cupcakes, and homemade are way better than store bought.” Harry says easily, stealing Y/N’s water and taking a gulp from it.

Y/N watches his throat move as he swallows the water, how his Adam’s apple bobs, how he licks his lips when he finally pulls the glass away from his mouth.

Y/N’s own mouth suddenly feels very dry.

“Alright, yeah.” Y/N nods weakly. “We can bake something later.  It’ll be fun.”

…

“It’ll be fun.” Y/N shakes her head in disbelief. “God, I can’t believe I said that.”

“It was fun!” Harry argues, holding up a red velvet cupcake. “And we did it!”

“And we made a mess.” Y/N gestures to the kitchen around them, which looks like a warzone.  Flour, powdered sugar, and cocoa powder cover every counter surface.  There are broken eggshells on the counter, splatters of batter everywhere, and both Y/N and Harry have dyed red hands from food colouring.

“It could be worse.” Harry shrugs, clearly untroubled. “C’mon.  Try a cupcake.”

Y/N reaches for one, but Harry simply lifts the one in his hand to her mouth.  She locks eyes with him as she takes a bite, the icing smearing across her top lip.

Y/N chews slowly and swallows hard. “Yeah.  They’re good.”

Harry extends a hand, and his finger runs along her lip, collecting the icing.  He pops it into his mouth, sucking for a moment before humming in agreement. “Yeah.  Sweet.”

The cupcakes, it turns out, pair well with watermelon cocktails, and soon Y/N and Harry are sitting on the couch, takeout and cupcakes in front of them and drinks in their hands as they giggle and talk.  They’re intoxicated, but not just from the alcohol in the strong drinks that Harry makes.

“Honestly, working from home isn’t ideal, but it’s not that bad.” Y/N pops a bite of food into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Definitely not the worst part of quarantine.”

“Yeah?” Harry leans back on the couch. “What’s the worst part?”

Y/N shrugs. “It sucks being away from people, cooped up inside.”

Harry nods, but his face looks wistful. “I miss sex.”

Y/N laughs, but she nods in agreement as well. “Fuck, I know.  I miss sex so much.”

“It’s nice, you know? A good way to burn some energy…always sleep so well after…” Harry sighs, taking a sip of his drink between his phrases. “I feel like I’m back on a tour bus again, with no one around but my hand.”

A giggle escapes Y/N’s mouth. “How tragic.” She also takes a sip of her drink, and tries to stop herself from making a face.  Harry really does make them strong. “I just miss touching.  I haven’t been this touch starved since I was seventeen.”

Harry makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. “We touch.”

“That’s different.” Y/N finishes her drink. “That’s friendly touching.  It’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?” Harry challenges her, a glint in his eyes that Y/N’s come to recognize as a sign of trouble.

She refuses to take the bait. “You know what I meant.”

“I don’t.” Harry says it innocently, and he reaches forward to take her glass from her. “How about I get us some refills while you think of how to say it?”

Y/N lets him take the glass (she loves his drinks, despite how strong they are), but shakes her head. “Stop being an ass.  You know exactly what I meant.”

A low laugh rolls out of Harry as he walks to the built-in bar he has in the lounge.  He begins to recreate the drinks, muddling this, adding a splash of that.  If Harry wasn’t already a rock star, she’d suggest he become a mixologist.

“Maybe I do know what you meant.” Harry shakes the cocktail shaker with ease before straining the liquid out over their glasses, which he’s filled with fresh ice. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Y/N runs a hand through her hair.  She feels warm from the alcohol, and the lit candles around them aren’t helping.  The food and cupcakes sit on the table, all but forgotten in their new conversation. “Say what?”

Harry’s lips pull up in a smirk, but his eyes show something else.  He walks back over and hands her the drink before taking a seat next to her again. “The kind of touching you miss.”

Their fingers touch as Y/N takes the glass from him, and suddenly the warmth of the room feels ten times hotter. “You want me to say it?”

Harry lifts his glass to his lips, but keeps his eyes on her. “I do.”

“I…” Y/N takes a sip of the drink (which is stronger than the one before) and then presses the cold glass to her cheek. “I miss touching.  Intimate touching.  And…being touched intimately.”  

Harry inhales deeply, stretching out his shoulders before responding. “Yeah.  I miss that too.  Holding hands, touching someone’s stomach, chest, legs…having them play with my hair…”

“I play with your hair.” Y/N says defensively, a crease appearing between her eyebrows.

Harry laughs once. “Right, but like you said…that’s different.”

Y/N clears her throat. “Right.”

Harry takes a long sip from his drink. “’S still nice, though.” Harry adds after a moment, licking his lips. “I love when you play with my hair.  You know that.”

Nodding softly, Y/N begins to trail a finger over the rim of her glass.  Whenever she begins to get tipsy, she begins to fidget more, and feel freer in her actions.  And when Y/N glances back at Harry, she can tell he recognizes the sign as well.

“What about you?” He asks, bringing her back from her thoughts. “What do you miss having people do?”

Y/N drinks again, pulling her knees to her chest as she leans against the couch’s armrest. “I miss…having my hair played with, too.  That’s always nice.  I miss having my fingers played with…neck kisses…I like when people, like, rub my arms or thighs, just absentmindedly…” She leans her head against her arm. “Your turn.”

“My turn?” Harry rubs his nose lightly, and Y/N can tell he’s feeling the alcohol, too. “What’s my turn?”

“Tell me what else you like.” Y/N smiles softly, a small laugh just barely bubbling out from her. “We’ve never actually talked about it, H.  Isn’t that strange?”

Harry turns to face her more, pausing to think for a moment. “I suppose we’ve never been specific before, yeah.” He taps his thumb against his H ring. “I like being in control, usually. Telling them what to do, where to touch me…” His eyes get a faraway look in them. “But sometimes it’s nice to give up control.  Have someone else…”

“Decide.” Y/N finishes his sentence for him when he trails off. “Yeah.  I’m more like that, I think.  I usually let someone else decide.  But I like the in-between, too.  Like…both exploring each other.”

“What do you mean?” Harry cocks his head to the side curiously.

Y/N shrugs loosely, her finger still tracing her glass. “’S hard to explain.”

Harry’s voice is low when he replies, almost like he’s somewhere else. “Try.”

“Well…” Y/N takes a drink before setting her glass down. “It’s like…do you remember your first time?”

Harry blinks, surprised at the question, but nods. “Yeah.  I do.”

“And remember how nervous you were?”

“Yeah.”

“And like…” Y/N plays with her fingers as she ponders her next words. “You were nervous, yeah, but there was also this excitement in you.  Kind of like…a breathlessness.  And you looked at the other person and knew they…”

Harry closes his eyes for a moment. “Felt the same.”

“Yeah.” Y/N tucks her hair behind her ears. “And just, like, being comfortable with them, and knowing you could both explore, and ask questions, and you were both together…” Y/N feels heat rise to her cheeks as she trails off. “I don’t know.  I feel like that’s rare, but I—it’s nice.  I like it.”

“Yeah.” Harry rubs his thumb over his lip as he shifts his position on the couch. “It’s nice, yeah. Rare, usually.  But nice.”

“I think it’s rare, because, like—” The alcohol makes it harder for Y/N to gather her thoughts, but also harder to sensor them. “I don’t know, I feel like when I was younger, and hadn’t had sex yet, I took more time with, like, finding the right person? Like I wanted it to be with someone who loved me for the first time, and someone I was comfortable with, and it was. And then after, the love part didn’t matter so much for me.” Y/N glances at Harry, who seems to be hanging on her every word. “Which, like, was fine.  What mattered to me the most was that whoever I had sex with respected me. And they did, so that was…good. But it’s different.” Y/N rubs her arms. “I don’t know if that makes sense…”

“It does.” Harry assures her, placing a light hand on her knee.  He begins to rub small circles. “Keep going.”

“I just think that, like, that in-between, breathless, exploring each other kind of thing…the comfort…that’s rare because it only really happens with someone you love.” Y/N murmurs. “At least, that’s how it is for me.  And I haven’t really been in love much in my life.”

“I’ve been in love probably too much.” Harry admits, his hand still on Y/N’s knee. “Too much to be good for me.”

Y/N shakes her head adamantly. “No, H.  That’s good. That’s…brave.  You’re not afraid of how you feel.  Most people are.”

“Maybe.” Harry finishes his drink again with one long gulp.  

Y/N watches as he does, seeing a little drip of liquid slip from the corner of his mouth.  She can’t stop herself from leaning forward and wiping it away with her thumb, feeling the stubble of Harry’s chin scratch against her.

Harry watches her with hooded eyes as she leans back to her previous position.  His hand slips a bit higher, from her knee to her lower thigh, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Who have you been in love with?” He asks.  His words are slurred a bit, and his accent seems thicker.

“My first boyfriend, Parker. You remember him.” Y/N sighs, closing her eyes as she herself remembers. “And…Christian, from university.  We were together for two years.  That’s it, I think.”

Despite the alcohol, Harry’s face still shows some surprise. “Really?  No one else?  No one since Christian?”

Y/N shrugs. “I’ve dated, yeah, and had relationships, but…I don’t know.  I didn’t love any of them.  I was…infatuated.  But I never…it was intense, but like—intense like a spark.  Nothing prolonged.”

Harry hums in response. “Thought you were going to say Niall for a moment.  He was pretty torn up when you went back to school after that summer.”

Y/N’s face mimics Harry’s surprise from a moment ago. “Was he?”

“Yeah.  Moped around a bit, spent time by himself, on his phone every two minutes…” Harry’s expression shows the difficulty it’s taking him to think back eight years while drunk. “I knew it was because you left.  Thought you two had an…agreement, or something.”

“An agreement?” A giggle escapes Y/N. “This isn’t a Jane Austen book, Harry.  We didn’t have an agreement.” Once she gets her laughter out, she sighs. “He was that upset?”

“Yeah.” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “So I thought…he must be in love with you.  And you were…”

“No, I wasn’t.” Y/N says softly. “He was so upset that you thought he was in love with me?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N bites her lip. “Was he more upset than you?”

Harry takes a moment to reply, looking at her with a serious expression.  His lips are so red, and his eyes are so green, and both of them are so drunk that neither of them can sense the meaning behind what they’re saying.

“No.” Harry finally responds. “He wasn’t.”

…

“Good morning.”

“Shhh.” Y/N covers her eyes with her arm. “Don’t yell in my ear.”

“I whispered.” Harry counters, but his voice is a bit quieter this time. “Do you have a headache?”

“I didn’t know something flavoured with watermelon could make me feel so shitty.” Y/N groans a bit, shifting on the bed without opening her eyes. “What did you do to me?”

When Harry laughs, it’s not audible, but Y/N can feel it through his chest pressed against her side.

“How are you completely fine right now?” She asks, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m used to it.  I’ve always been way better with hangovers than you.” Harry presses a small kiss to her shoulder before getting up. “How does breakfast in bed sound?”

“Normally amazing, but I can’t eat right now.” Y/N mutters. “How about coffee in bed?”

“Sure.” Harry smiles a bit. “You look cute like this.”

“Shut up.”

Harry returns ten minutes later with a tray of coffee, toast, and eggs, of which he manages to coax Y/N to take a few bites.  She doesn’t really want it, but she knows it’s easier to do as he says instead of arguing.

“How about we have a movie day today?” Harry suggests after breakfast. “In bed, since it seems like you won’t be moving anytime soon.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N glares at him from the top of her coffee cup.

Harry raises his hands in defense. “Hey, I didn’t make you drink.  You chose to.”

“I know, but it’s easier to blame you.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Is that why you’ve been doing it for twenty years?”

“Exactly.”

Harry carefully lifts the empty tray to the ground before holding up the remote. “You can pick the movies.”

Y/N bites her lip. “If we watch Titanic, will you make fun of me when I cry?”

“Of course not.  I’ll even cry with you out of solidarity.”

“Alright.” Y/N settles back into the blankets. “Put it on, then.”

It’s easy for them to be like this, Y/N thinks, as Harry pulls her into his arms when the movie starts. It’s always been so natural for them to be physical and affectionate with each other.  They’ve never acted any other way.

Except this doesn’t feel like any other way.

Yes, Y/N has watched countless movies while cuddling in bed with Harry.  But has he ever whispered in her ear like that before?  Has he ever rubbed her sides so carefully before? Has he ever let his lips rest on the bare skin of her shoulder, almost at the base of her neck?

Y/N can’t recall. However, she’s certain that if he had, it hasn’t felt so electric.

“Look at them.  Look at how Jack watches her.” Harry murmurs his words directly in Y/N’s ear as they watch Jack draw Rose.  Y/N can feel his lips brushing against her, and the heat of his breath and tone of his voice makes her shiver.

“She’s very pretty.” Y/N nods, shifting in Harry’s arms.  She likes how warm he feels.

“I suppose, but that’s not what I meant.” Harry traces shapes on her arm. “I meant look at how he looks at her.  Do you think they have the kind of love you talked about last night?”

Y/N glances over her shoulder at him, surprised he remembers their conversation. “I think so.  Do you?”

“Yeah.” Harry says in a low voice.  He says no more, so Y/N turns back to face the television.

They continue to watch in silence, gripping each other a bit tighter as the Titanic begins to sink. As they watch a mother reading to her two young children in bed, Y/N begins to lose her composure, like always. Tears well in her eyes, and she lets out a quiet hitched breath, a single sniffle.

“It’s alright, love.” Harry’s hands move to her stomach, holding her tighter to comfort her. “Don’t cry.”

Y/N can hear the tears in his voice, just as they’re in her own. “Can’t help it.  This part and the band and the old couple in bed—they always get me.”

“I know.” Harry rubs his thumb along your side.

Y/N reaches behind her without turning around, threading her fingers through Harry’s messy curls.  She plays with them absentmindedly as she watches, and tries to ignore how right it feels to be close to him like this.  She wonders if he notices it, too.

Harry presses a chaste kiss to her shoulder.

…

The day they hit the one month mark of quarantine, Harry sits across from Y/N at breakfast with a determined look on his face.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Y/N glances up at him, her attention barely shifting from her book. “A proposition?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of proposition?” Y/N tilts her head to the side.  What she first thought was just determination on Harry’s face, she realizes, is actually determination and mischief, and she knows it won’t end well.

“I haven’t had a tattoo in a while.” Harry steals a strawberry from Y/N’s plate. “And I have a machine here, so I was thinking you could give me one.”

Y/N stares at Harry incredulously as he pops the strawberry in his mouth. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably.”

“I’m a terrible artist, Harry.  You know that.” Y/N shakes her head. “And even if I wasn’t, I have no idea how to tattoo someone!”

“You can watch a YouTube tutorial, or read a WikiHow.” Harry sighs loudly. “I’m so bored in isolation!”

“What do you even want tattooed?” Y/N eyes the intricate tattoos on his arms suspiciously. “I doubt I could do something like your ship.”

“Something simple.” He shrugs. “Probably lettering.”

“Probably?” Y/N says suspiciously.

“That’s why I want you to do it.  I want it in your handwriting.”

Harry’s tone is easy, but it makes her breathing shallow.

“You do?”

“Yeah.  I was thinking of something to remind me of this time, because of how weird it is.”

Despite her increased heartbeat, Y/N laughs. “What, do you want me to tattoo COVID-19 on you?”

“No.  Be a little more creative than that.” Harry scoffs.

“Why do I have to be creative?”

“Because I want you to decide what I get.”

Y/N’s eyes widen. “You’re not serious.”

“I am!  Why is that so hard to believe?” Harry asks. “I trust you. And you’re good with words.”

“No.  Absolutely not.”

…

“Make sure my drink has two shots in it.” Y/N calls to Harry as she looks over the tattoo supplies on the living room table.

Harry laughs. “I’m not sure I want my tattoo artist to be drunk.”

“The only way I’ll even be your tattoo artist is if I’m drunk.” She counters. “I still think this is an awful idea.”

Harry hands Y/N a tall glass with a light pink liquid in it. “Drink this, and you’ll change your mind.”

Y/N takes the glass and takes a large gulp, not focusing on the taste of the mixers, but the liquid courage behind them.

Harry grins, lifting his own glass. “Cheers.”

“Shut up and sit down.” Y/N mutters.  She ties her hair back before grabbing the disinfectant wipes. “Where do you want this?”

“My upper inner arm. I already shaved it for you.” Harry smirks as he points to the area, which is easily exposed in his loose tank top.

“And you’re sure I can write it with pen?” Y/N asks nervously as she disinfects the area.

“Mhmm.” Harry leans back comfortably in his chair. “What did you decide on?”

“It’s a secret.” Y/N uncaps the pen, getting closer to him.

“So I can’t know until after it’s on me permanently?”

“Is that a problem?” Y/N asks innocently. “I thought you trusted me?”

Harry chuckles. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Also that I’m good with words.” Y/N makes sure Harry’s head is turned away before she carefully writes the phrase she chose.  Then she snaps on gloves and starts the machine like she watched in videos early that day.

“You’re fine, love.” Harry assures her, seeing the nervous look on her face. “It’s a small tattoo. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Quiet.” Y/N mutters. “I need to focus.”

True to Harry’s word, the small tattoo only takes a few minutes to finish.  When it’s done, Y/N gives it one final wipe before setting the machine down and taking off her gloves.

“Alright.” She picks up her glass and drains it completely. “You can look.”

Harry peers at his arm, curiosity clear on his face.  There, in Y/N’s loopy handwriting is the phrase “touch me.”

“It looks so fucking good, Y/N.” Harry grins at her. “You did amazing!”

“I didn’t fuck it up?” She asks, chewing on her lip anxiously. “Is it alright?”

“You did a lovely job.” Harry smiles. “Wrap it for me?”

Y/N does as he asks, carefully wrapping the fresh tattoo in plastic wrap and taping it to his arm. “I think I’ll accept my tip in the form of another drink.”

Harry snickers. “Coming right up.”

Two drinks later, they’re both back in the honest and loose headspace that they’ve grown familiar with. It’s not enough that they’re unaware of their actions, but both Y/N and Harry know that their lips are looser because of the liquor in their systems.

They’ve migrated to the bedroom to get comfier, but took a few items from the bar with them.  It’s with these items that Harry tops up Y/N’s glass again as he speaks.

“So tell me…” He sets the cocktail shaker on his bedside table. “Why ‘touch me’?”

“You said you wanted something to remind you of isolation.” Y/N takes a long sip of her drink. “And that’s what we both miss the most, right?  Being touched?”

Harry nods slowly, his rings clinking against his glass. “Yeah.  I’m probably going to go straight to the bars after this is all done.  Find someone there.”

He laughs lightly, showing that what he says it half a joke, but Y/N sighs wistfully and shakes her head in disagreement. “I won’t.”

“You won’t?” Harry is surprised, his laughter fading. “Why not?”

Her shrug almost causes her to spill her drink on the bed. “I don’t know.” Y/N sighs again. “I don’t really—I’m not a hookup fan.  Not right now, at least.  It’s not what I…want.”

“What do you want, then?” Harry finishes his drink, but sets the glass down instead of refilling it. “If not sex?”

“I want sex.” Y/N says defensively. “But I want—I don’t want it to be someone random.  I want sex, but I want to be…intimate.  Like, I want to know that person cares about me, and I care about them.”

Harry licks the last of his drink from his lips. “Like that breathless feeling?”

“No.  It would be nice, but no.  That takes time.” Y/N brushes her hair behind her ear. “Just…someone who cares.  I don’t want a quick fuck, I just—”

“You want to be touched. Intimately touched.” Harry takes the empty glass from Y/N’s hand and sets it down on the table next to the bed.

Y/N nods gently, her limbs feeling loose. “Yeah.  Intimately touched.”

“You know, I could…” Harry trails off, pursing his lips. “We could…do that.”

The alcohol makes Y/N slow to recognize the meaning of his words. “What?”

“I’ve noticed you…the way you look at me, it’s…different than it was.” Harry says carefully, his eyes gauging her reaction. “For the last few weeks.  And I—I know that I’m…attracted to you, too.”

“We…” Y/N struggles to think of what to say as she finally registers what’s happening. “We’re friends.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see you as attractive.” Harry looks down at his hands. “Don’t you…?  I mean…”

“I—yeah.  I think you’re—” Y/N laughs a bit nervously. “You’re attractive, H, you know that.  We’ve just never…discussed it.”

“I’m not saying we have to fuck, or—we don’t have to do anything.” Harry straightens his shoulders and looks you in the eye. “Just—when we touch, it’s mild.  If you want to be touched intimately, we could…”

“Like, a hand job?” Y/N says slowly, her words blunt with confusion.

Harry goes a bit red, but he shakes his head quickly. “No, Christ, that’s not what I meant, I—just—can I show you?”

“Um,” Y/N swallows hard. “Sure.”

“Okay.” Harry nods slightly, taking carefully measured breaths. “If this feels weird, or anything seems wrong, just tell me to stop, alright?”

Y/N replies faintly. “Alright.”

Nodding again, Harry moves closer on the bed, sitting on his knees so he can get closer to Y/N, who sits cross-legged.  His hands rest lightly on her bare thighs, and his rings are a cool contrast to his warm skin.

Harry begins to rub his hands up and down her thighs slowly.  His movements are measured, and he watches Y/N’s reaction carefully for a sign of her disliking his actions.  However, what he finds is a nervous but interested girl staring back at him.

“Like this.  Like, what you like.” Harry says lowly.  His hands move more to her inner thighs, but they don’t creep higher. “And…”

“And…?” Y/N asks, her heart rate increasing even more.

Harry moves one hand to the hem of Y/N’s tank top, pushing it up a bit so his hand can rest on her waist. He rubs over her warm skin, marvelling in how smooth and soft it is to his touch.  His fingers graze the lace of her bra, but he goes no higher.

“How—how’s that?” Harry asks quietly.

“It’s, um, it’s good.” Y/N replies as she struggles to keep her voice normal. “Yeah.  Good.  But, um, can you…” Harry’s movements pause at her words, and Y/N feels her cheeks get even warmer. “Maybe touch my, uh, my neck.  If you’d like.”

Harry nods, and the hand on her thigh moves to her neck.  He traces his fingers across her shoulder and over her collarbone, delighting in feeling the curves of her body.  Y/N’s breath hitches when his fingers travel up her neck, and Harry swears he can feel her pulse increase under his fingers.

Y/N’s not sure if it’s the fact that she’s touch starved from self isolating that makes Harry’s touches feel so good, or if it’s the fact that it’s Harry touching her, but she doesn’t dwell on it.  Instead, she closes her eyes and tilts her head back, allowing him better access.

She feels Harry’s breath before she feels his lips, but she’s still surprised when she feels him begin to sponge light kisses across her neck.

“H…”

“Is this alright?” He asks the question right below her ear, and yet she can barely hear him because he’s so quiet.

“Yes.” Y/N breathes. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Harry returns to pressing light kisses to her skin, his hands still rubbing over her sides and hips.

For the first time since seeing Harry naked in her bathroom, Y/N can’t deny or explain away her attraction to him.  She can’t convince herself that she doesn’t want him to touch her, because she does, and she can’t tell herself that she doesn’t need him, because she does. Every fibre of her being is telling her that she needs Harry, and she needs him now.  Her heart is pounding, her skin is on fire, and her core feels like she’d going to explode if he doesn’t do something.  And yet, Y/N can’t tell him to touch her more.  She’s frozen, mind blank, and she can only register what Harry is doing at the moment as what she wants.

Harry continues to kiss her neck, never lingering too long in one spot, never sucking too hard. Every kiss is gentle and chaste, except the few rare ones that include the tip of his tongue running over her skin.

After what feels like an eternity, Harry pulls away from her neck, face flushed.  Despite his hands still on her body, Y/N makes an involuntary sound in the back of her throat.

“Is that better?” He asks lowly, rubbing his thumb against your hip.

“I—kind of.” Y/N says softly.  If anything, she thinks, it’s worse.  She needs to satisfy the burn inside her, but she doesn’t know how.

“Good.” Harry replies, but he doesn’t take his hands off her.

Y/N’s own hands have been sitting at her sides as his moved over her body, but she raises one now, as hesitant as Harry was.  She extends it towards his arm, but pauses with her fingers right over his skin.

“Is it okay if I…?”

The corner of Harry’s lips lifts up, just barely. “Yeah, love.  Go ahead.”

Harry’s skin is warm beneath her touch.  Y/N traces the outline of his mermaid tattoo carefully before moving onto others.  She loves how his arm curves under her touch, how he stays still and lets her explore.  She appreciates it, thinking that if Harry made any sudden movements, she’d force herself to pull away.

Soon, her fingers move from tracing his tattoos to tracing the lines of his muscles.  She moves down his forearm to his hand, running her fingers over the veins that show through his tan skin, over his knuckles, down the tips of his calloused fingers and back.  

Harry sucks in a breath, and Y/N’s trance flickers for a moment as her eyes move to his face to see what’s wrong.

“Sorry, just—surprised me.” Harry says, voice low yet sheepish.  He nods down to his thigh, where Y/N realizes her own hand is resting.

“Oh—” She moves to pull her hand away, but Harry places his own on top.

“It’s fine.” He says quickly. “Keep going.”

Y/N bites her lip as she turns her attention back to his arm.  Her fingers move slowly and carefully back up his forearm to his upper arm. She traces over his tattoos while she rubs her thumb gently against the muscle, and stops her fingers at the edge of his t-shirt sleeve.  With a quick glance at Harry, she pushes the sleeve up, tucking it up on his shoulder so she can run her fingers over his ship tattoo, which is one of her favourites.

“Feels nice.” Harry murmurs, his eyes following her movements.

Y/N glances back at his face, taking in his appearance.  His lips are red from the time he spent kissing her neck, and his cheeks are still flushed.  His eyes are darker than usual, and she’s not certain if it’s the candlelight or something else causing it.  There’s a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, with a few loose curls hanging down. Out of reflex, Y/N reaches up and pushes his hair back out of his eyes.

Before she can return her hand to his arm, Harry captures it in his own.  Y/N watches as he brings it to his lips, inhaling as her wrist passes underneath his nose.  Although she’s not sure why, there’s something about seeing how much smaller her hand is in Harry’s that delights her.

Harry presses a soft kiss to her wrist, following it up with another on her palm.  Y/N’s eyelids flutter at the tender sensation.

“It’s my turn to touch you.” She says softly, her voice strained.

Harry hums in reply. “I know.” He kisses your wrist once more before looking at you. “I’ll help.”

Lifting his hand from his thigh (your hand, which was underneath, stays where it is), he pulls up his shirt just enough that he can sneak your hand underneath.  He rests it on his lower chest, and even though his shirt is still partially covering him, Y/N knows she’s touching his butterfly tattoo.

“I like to be touched here.” Harry says in the same low voice.

“Okay.” Y/N bites her lip, her head swimming with alcohol and the smell of the candles and Harry’s cologne and Harry. “It…would be easier without your shirt.”

Without breaking eye contact, save for the moment fabric covers him, Harry pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. “Better?”

Y/N’s eyes drift down to his tanned stomach.  His body is familiar and a stranger to her all at once.  She knows his tattoos, scars, every mark on his skin from a distance, but seeing it like this—touching it like this—makes her feel like she’s never truly seen him before.

“Better.” She manages to say, her hand brushing across his ribs.

Y/N spends a while exploring the planes of his stomach, the contours of his body.  When she gets to his v-lines, and runs her fingers over the ferns tattooed there, Harry shivers a bit, his hand gripping her knee tighter.

Y/N massages his thigh gently. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Harry clears his throat. “I’m good.”

“Okay.” Y/N nods, but moves her hand further up again, over his chest and over his collar bones.  She takes a moment to trace the lines of his neck, feel the beat if his pulse underneath her fingers, and then tangles her fingers in his hair.  She uses the leverage to tilt his head back a bit, and presses her lips to the base of his neck.

Harry’s cologne smells better up close, and Y/N adores the heat of his skin on her sensitive lips. She presses small kisses over the curve of his neck, pausing over his jugular.  Her tongue darts out and she carefully licks along it before ending the motion with a kiss.

“Christ…” Harry exhales slowly, the tips of his fingers digging into her knee slightly.

Y/N knows they’re crossing the threshold of just touching each other for the sake of touching.  She can feel herself dripping in her panties, and when her eyes flicker down, she can see the outline of Harry’s half hard cock in his shorts.  Together, they’ve reached the border of friends helping each other out, and she’s certain that she wants to cross it with him.  However, she’s not sure if they should.

Pulling back enough to look Harry in the eyes, Y/N clears her throat. “H, we—what are we doing?”

Harry waits a moment to answer. “I…I don’t know.  I have no fucking clue.”

“This isn’t friendly anymore.” Y/N’s voice drops to a whisper. “It’s not just—it’s intimate, yeah, but it’s more…” Her eyes move to the outline of his hardening cock once more before looking back up at his face. “It’s more.”

“Yeah.  It’s more.” Harry moves his hand further up her thigh again, rubbing slow circles. “But I don’t want to stop.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “You don’t?”

“It’s been so long since…” Harry trails off, his gaze drifting down to your lips before returning to your eyes. “And it’s you.  I’ve always wondered if—we—”

“I’ve wondered, too.” Y/N admits, her voice filled with nerves.  Are they really discussing this? “Especially since that day, in the bathroom—”

“I wondered if you looked then.” Harry’s voice drops lower (which Y/N didn’t think was possible). “I thought about it later that day.  I—fuck, I wanted you to look.”

A small noise escapes the back of Y/N’s throat. “This—we’ve been drinking, and—it’s the alcohol, H. Neither of us is thinking straight.”

“This isn’t the alcohol talking.  I’ve thought about—when we’re in the pool, when we cuddle, when we flirt, I—I can’t help it.” Harry closes his eyes for a brief moment, like he’s collecting himself. “I need you.  And I think…I think you need me too.”

“I do.  I need you.” Y/N touches his stubbled jaw with careful fingers. “But we’re friends.  This is going to change that.”

“We don’t know that.” Harry leans into her touch. “You said before that you wanted someone you’re comfortable with, something intimate, something breathless.  You and I are comfortable, and intimate, and—I don’t know.  All I know for sure is that I want you.”

Y/N isn’t sure if he means he wants her in a purely physical way or something more, and while she knows she should clarify that, all she can focus on is his voice and the way it’s going straight to her core.

“I want you, too.” She says simply.

Harry brings his hand to Y/N’s hip. “Can I kiss you?”

Y/N nods.  She’s not sure she’s capable of giving a verbal response.

Harry takes it upon himself to lean closer, his fingertips digging into Y/N’s skin in a way she adores. He pauses, hovering just above her lips for a moment, as if to give her time to pull away.  Instead, Y/N just waits in anticipation, delighting in the feeling of his breath running over her skin.

When he kisses her, Y/N tastes alcohol, mint, and what she swears is her own heart in the back of her throat.

Any previous kisses she’s shared with Harry have been half kisses, given in teenage games of truth or dare and in a friend’s parent’s basement.  Those kisses were safe, guarded, and an obligation.  This kiss is the exact opposite.

Although it starts chaste, it quickly grows more passionate.  Y/N can’t stop herself from tugging on Harry’s hair more than she imagines Harry can stop himself from rucking up the hem of her tank top.  His fingers dip under the band of her lace bralette as she nips at his lip, tugging slightly, delighted when a strangled sound echoes from the back of his throat.

Within minutes, Y/N’s allowed Harry to pull her to straddle his lap, his hands grabbing at her hips with a neediness she’s never seen him exhibit before.  Of course, she feels the same way, and she lets her hand run down his chest over and over, using her nails a little more each time.  Although there’s no one around to see, no party to return to, nowhere to go, Y/N wants to leave a mark.  She wants anyone who sees his chest to know that he belongs to her.

Harry breaks away from her, lips red, eyes frenzied, and breathing heavy. “Can I—?” His hands tug on the hem of her top, tugging in question.

Y/N lifts her arms in response, letting him pull it off and toss it to the side.  Harry moves back in to kiss her again, but she keeps her arms up, giving him a long look.

“You’re not done.” She says simply.

He understands right away, and his fingers find the band of her bralette again.  This time, however, he removes it slower, almost as if the removal is ritual itself, and his hands are less frantic when they return to your skin.

Harry looks at Y/Nu with wide eyes, and she understands the meaning in them: this is so much more than just touching, and so much more than two friends using each other for mutual pleasure.  With every touch, they further cross a line, and neither of them can stop.  

With this realization, Harry’s movements become more cautious.  His hands come to rest on her sides, his thumbs just brushing the side of her breast.

“You’re fine.” Y/N assures him in a soothing voice. “Keep going.”

“Are you fine?” He counters, his voice an equal mix of concern and need.

“H.” Y/N takes his hands in her own and places them over her breasts. “Like that.  Touch me like that.”

Harry sucks in a short breath as she manipulates his hands, showing him how to rub her and touch her. After a few moments, she lets her hands move to his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

Y/N begins to grind against him, desperate for a bit of friction.  Their kisses are soon accented with their moans as they each pull the other closer in lust and need.

Still, underneath the physical desires, there’s a current running between them.  Y/N knows it’s been there for the last few weeks, humming quietly in the back of her mind, but being here, now, with Harry touching her, it’s come alive like an electric fence.  She can’t turn it off, and she doesn’t want to.  She doesn’t want to in the slightest.

Harry begins to kiss down her neck like before, but this time his kisses are anything but chaste. When he reaches her breast, he kisses around them before taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

“Oh fuck—” Y/N arches her back, fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. “Harry…”

He hums against her, and his spare hand rubs her back like he does when they get ready to sleep.  Usually, the motion is calming, but right now, Y/N feels anything but calm.

Harry continues until he’s satisfied with his work, and then he kisses his way to her other breast, wrapping his lips against her other nipple.  He spends just as much time on that one, letting his teeth graze it ever so slightly before soothing the action with his tongue.

When he pulls back, there’s a little line of spit connecting Harry’s mouth to her nipple, and Y/N whimpers at the sight.

“H…” She runs her finger through the line before gripping his chin with her thumb and forefinger.  The need inside her builds, as does her fondness for the man in front of her. “God…”

Harry tweaks her hard nipple with his finger, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, but enough to make a gasp fall from her mouth.  He offers no response in the form of words, but the hungry look in his eyes has only increased.

“Let me…” Y/N climbs off of his lap, gently pushing him to lay back on the bed. “Yeah?”

Harry runs a hand through his messy curls, nodding quickly. “You want that?”

“Yeah.” Y/N nods too, pressing a wet kiss to his swollen lips. “So bad.  Yeah.”

Her hands move to the waistband of his shorts, and Harry lifts his hips off the bed.  Y/N tugs down his boxers in the same movement, and tosses both articles of clothing to the side before looking back at him.

Harry’s cock is just as beautiful as she remembers it being the morning she accidentally walked in on him. Even more so, she thinks, because now he’s hard, and the head is the most appetizing shade of pink, with drops of precum pearling at the top.  When Y/N wraps her hand around his girth, she adores the heat that she feels.  

“So pretty…” She says the words almost to herself, and strokes him lightly to get used to the feeling of him in her hand. “I just want to…”

Y/N leans down and flicks her tongue over his tip, collecting the precum gathered there.  In return, a strangled moan leaves Harry’s throat as his arm moves to cover his eyes for a moment.

Y/N presses a kiss to the head of his cock before she continues licking, reveling in the sounds Harry makes.  She had no doubt, with a voice as angelic as his, that his moans and whines and whimpers would be just as beautiful.

When she wraps her lips around the head and sucks, she feels Harry’s hand move to her hair.  She looks up at him without lifting off of his cock, staring him in the eye as she takes more and more of him into her mouth.

“Fuck—” Another moan leaves Harry’s lips, more strained than the last. “That’s it…” He tugs on her hair, but doesn’t push her down.  Even when lost in pleasure, he’s careful with her.

Y/N loves him for it.

Pacing herself, she takes more and more of him into her mouth until her nose is pressed to the base of his stomach, brushing against his (neatly trimmed) pubic hair.  She stays down for just a moment before pulling up completely to breathe, but keeps her hand on him, stroking him slowly.

“You look so good.” Harry mutters, running his hands over her hair in a soothing motion. “I imagined it, but didn’t think…so much better…”

Y/N moves to push her head back down, but Harry stops her, bringing her up for a kiss instead.

“I want to taste you, now.” He tells her, laying her down on the pillows. “Is that alright?”

Y/N nods desperately, feeling even more heat rush to her core and pool there. “Mhmm.”

Harry kisses his way down her body again, slipping his fingers into the waistband of her shorts. He leaves her panties on as he pulls the shorts down, and lets out a low groan at the sight of her pink Calvin Klein panties, and more specifically, the dark pink spot that’s apparent on them.

“You’re soaked…” He presses a kiss to her sensitive inner thigh before brushing a finger over the wet spot.

Y/N jumps a bit, making a sound in the back of her throat. “Harry!”

“Sorry.” He kisses her thigh again. “I’m sorry.  Just relax, yeah?  It’s just me. I got you.”

Harry continues to kiss along her inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the thin cloth covering her center.  When he presses his first kiss to the fabric, Y/N grasps the sheets in her hands.

“God…” She whispers, fists clenched.

Harry reaches up and takes one of her hands, placing it in his hair wordlessly before kissing over her again, his tongue peaking out just a bit.

The torture continues for what feels like forever, with Harry teasing her over the soaked fabric of her panties.  Finally, Y/N sighs in relief as she feels his hands grip the fabric, and she lifts her hips eagerly as he tugs the article of clothing down.

The first thing she feels is his hot breath hitting her core, which is enough to make her legs reflexively close with pleasure.  Harry’s hand grips her leg, pushing them back open as he takes in the sight of her dripping cunt before him.

“Fuck…” He inhales deeply, committing her scent to memory. “Your pussy is so gorgeous.”

Y/N whimpers at his words and tugs on his curls. “Please, H…I need you.”

“Need me?” Harry asks in a husky voice, his finger touching her outer lips just barely.

“Yes!” Y/N whines, not caring how she sounds. “Never needed anything more…”

Harry runs his finger over her slit, collecting the wetness dripping from her.  YN moans loudly at the contact, not fully relieved but grateful for the light touch.

“So fucking wet.” Harry’s voice sounds not completely his own. “Fuck, Y/N, how are you so wet?”

Y/N feels heat rush to her cheeks, and she mumbles her reply in what’s almost an embarrassed voice. “You know exactly how.”

“Don’t even know what to do first.” Harry ignores her reply, lost in his own world as he continues stroking her slit. “Just want…”

He presses into her without warning, and Y/N arches her back off the bed as Harry’s finger slips into her cunt.  His cold rings touch the top of her entrance as Harry pauses inside her, his eyes heavy with lust.

“And so tight.” He moans, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark. “Oh my God…”

He curves his finger inside her, wanting to feel every inch of her that he can.  Y/N continues to whimper above him.

“More.” She begs him, pushing back against his finger. “I can take more, Harry, please.”

Harry easily slips enough finger in, repeating his motion as she pushes back on him.  However, the pressure building inside Y/N disappears abruptly as his fingers do, and she’s just about to get angry at him when she feels his tongue replace his fingers.

“Fuck!” She exclaims loudly, her eyes closing as she throws her head back. “Harry—!”

Harry moves his tongue in and out of her, loving the taste of her juices in his mouth.  He moves further up to her clit, licking and sucking over the sensitive bundle of nerves as Y/N writhes above him.

“Taste so good.” He growls from between her thighs. “Fuck, Y/N…you’re going to cum for me, yeah?” He asks as he reaches up and grips her hands in his, interlocking their fingers. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Another strangled moan leaves Y/N’s mouth as he speaks. “I-I’m so close, Harry. Keep going, please.”

“Tell me.” He demands, licking over her clit again. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Y/N grinds against his tongue as she grips his hands tighter. “I’m going—fuck—I’m going to cum for you, H.  I’m going—”

Harry sucks hard on her clit, and Y/N throws her head back as an orgasm hits her harder than ever before.  Her thighs clench shut, trapping Harry’s head between them, but he just continues to lap at the juices flowing from her cunt while making the most obscene sounds Y/N has ever heard.

Harry doesn’t pull back until Y/N unclenches her thighs, and before he does, he presses one last kiss to her clit, making her flinch.  

Y/N is so exhausted she can barely open her eyes.  Once she does, however, and sees Harry, she feels all the exhaustion fade.

Harry’s lips are, somehow, even more red than before, and his whole chin is slick with her wetness.  He keeps licking his lips, like he can’t get enough of the taste, and Y/N feels like her whole body is on fire.

“Harry…” She whispers, squeezing his hand again.  She doesn’t know what else to say.

Harry lifts himself over her body, which is still shaking from her orgasm, and kisses her gently.  She can taste herself on his mouth, and she adores it.

“You taste so fucking good.” He murmurs, pressing his sweaty forehead against hers. “Like candy.”

Y/N swallows hard. “I haven’t—no one’s done that in a long time.”

“I’ll be glad to do it again.” Harry replies, brushing her hair back. “But right now…all I want to do is make love to you.” He looks at her with sincere eyes. “Will you let me?”

The tenderness of him asking almost brings tears to her eyes, and Y/N nods, her hands coming up to cup his rosy cheeks. “Yeah, H.  I’m…” She bites her lip as she realizes the truth of her words. “I’m yours.  Always.”

Harry inhales sharply before kissing her softly, his hands stroking her hair in a comforting fashion again. “How do you want to…?”

“I want you on top.” Y/N replies, touching his swallow tattoos. “I-I want to feel you.  Feel your weight.  Feel you close.”

With a nod, Harry positions himself over her, spreading her legs wide enough that his body can fit between.  He holds himself up with one hand and uses the other to guide his cock to Y/N’s folds, just brushing the head over them.  He’s teasing himself just as much as her.

“Harry…” Y/N leans her head back at the sensation. “Please, H…”

“I don’t—wait—” Harry pauses his movements, and Y/N can see on his face the strength and discipline it takes for him to do so. “I—a condom—”

“I’m clean, and I have an IUD.” Y/N assures him, running her hand along his shoulders. “Are you?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I am, but—are you sure?”

As Y/N looks into his eyes, the love and concern and want written all over them, she knows she’s never been more sure of anything in her life. “I want to feel you, without anything in between.  I—” She takes a deep breath and presses a kiss to his jaw. “Yeah.  I’m sure.”

Harry presses a kiss to her forehead, and the tender action makes Y/N close her eyes as she revels in the feeling.  A moment later, Harry moves down again and puts his forehead against hers as he pushes into her.

The moment he enters her, Y/N feels a fullness she’s never experienced before.  Not only is Harry stretching her cunt in a way that feels euphoric, but she feels complete.  He’s as close to her as he’s ever been, his breath is mingling with hers, his body weight is held over her carefully, and Y/N thinks she could die in the pleasure of this moment happily.

“Y/N…baby…” The pet name seems to fall easily from Harry’s lips as he bottoms out, holding himself still to adjust to the feeling. “Oh my God…”

Y/N digs her fingernails into Harry’s shoulders, pressing kisses to his lips between gasps for breath. “Move, H, please.”

Harry begins to thrust his hips, setting a slow but deep pace before gradually speeding up.  While part of Y/N wishes he would thrust as fast as he can, a deeper part of her is grateful that Harry is taking his time with her.  This feeling, now that she has it, is better than anything she’d ever felt before, and Y/N doesn’t want it to end anytime soon.

Harry kisses Y/N again as he moves inside her.  Although they’re as close as they’ve ever been, each of them keeps pulling the other closer.  As Harry thrusts deeper, Y/N pulls more of his weight down on her.  As Y/N scratches her nails down his back, Harry kisses her jaw. Neither of them can process exactly what they’re doing, but neither of them can stop.  Each touch is tender, each kiss is passionate, and each moment brings them closer together in so many more ways than just physical.

They don’t speak except for the occasional whisper from Y/N for Harry to move faster, or the occasional moan of Y/N’s name falling from Harry’s lips. The only constant sounds in the room are of the slickness between Y/N’s thighs as Harry moves between them, the sound of his skin meeting hers, both of them panting and moaning, and a few whispers of “please” that are barely audible.  Despite the lack of speech, however, the two are in constant communication.  Kissing, biting, scratching, and squeezing have become the vocabulary of their new language.  When Harry looks into Y/N’s wet eyes, he knows that she feels something running through the very depths of her being.  When Y/N feels Harry tuck his head between her neck and her shoulder as he whimpers, she knows that he trusts her to comfort him and hold him there.

Soon, Y/N feels the waves of pleasure begin to build, and she knows that when they finally break, they’ll pull her under. “H, I—fuck—I—” She can’t manage to form the sentence she needs to.

Harry, however, can tell exactly what she’s going to say. “Please.” He pants, adoring how she buries her head into his shoulder. “Please, love, cum for me…” He kisses over the shell of her ear as he thrusts deeper. “Need you.”

Y/N whimpers, biting down on Harry’s shoulder as her orgasm rolls over her. Harry feels her walls tighten around his cock, but he doesn’t slow down, and he works her through her climax until she whines in his ear.

“So good, H…” Y/N can barely find the strength to whisper the phrase.

Hearing her sound so fucked out, feeling her cunt squeezing him, and seeing the euphoria on her face is enough to bring Harry to the edge.  He slows his thrusts, about to pull out, but Y/N presses on his back to keep him close.

Harry groans as a shiver rolls through his body. “I’m about to cum, Y/N—”

“Stay inside me.” She pleads, pressing the pads of her fingers between his shoulder blades. “I-I’m yours, Harry, I told you.  Yours.”

Y/N looks up at him with such trusting and vulnerable eyes that Harry can’t make himself argue with her.  He nods instead, his thrusts increasing in speed again until he feels himself reach the edge of pleasure.  

As he freefalls into Y/N, his hips stutter, and he presses deep inside her while her name falls from his lips over and over again.  He can’t think of anything else to say.  He can’t think of anything else worth saying.

When Harry finally manages to pull himself together enough to pull out, Y/N instantly feels the emptiness inside her.  She wishes he would stay, but knows that it’s not practical, and instead just relishes in the feeling of his cum dripping from her entrance.  It’s like he’s claimed her as his, left a physical mark of himself, and Y/N doesn’t have the strength to stop herself from loving it.

They lay in silence for a few moments, trying to catch their breath and regain a sense of where they are.  Both Harry and Y/N are sweaty, exhausted, and covered in each other in more ways than one.  The wrap on Harry’s tattoo has slipped from his arm.  Somewhere in their pleasure, Y/N has lost an earring.  And yet, the only thing each of them cares about is looking at the other.

Out of instinct, Harry pulls Y/N’s shivering body into his, wrapping his arms around her tightly.  He can’t imagine she’s cold, and Y/N can’t bring herself to tell him she’s shivering because of the feeling of being so close to him, but neither of them denies the other of the affectionate gesture.

Y/N loses track of how long they lay there until Harry breaks the silence.

“I—” His voice cracks, and he clears it quickly before trying again. “I’ll get you a cloth to—to clean you up.”

Y/N nods, and Harry gently untangles himself from her before going to the bathroom.  Y/N can hear the running of water, and turns her head to see what he’s doing, but when she spots his naked silhouette, she closes her eyes.  Despite what they just did, there’s a shyness in her still when she sees him completely stripped.

Her eyes stay closed, and she only detects his return from feeling his weight return to the bed.  He places a gentle hand on her trembling knee, pulling her open ever so slightly.

“’M just cleaning you up.” Harry says in a quiet tone. “Is that okay?”

Y/N nods again.  She’s not certain she has enough strength to say anything.

Harry wipes between her legs with a gentle touch, watching how she flinches at the slightest of pressure. “I’m sorry.” He says sincerely, kissing her knee tenderly before continuing. “You’re sensitive, I know.  Almost done.”

Once he finishes wiping away the cum dripping out of her (his cum dripping out of her), Harry tosses the cloth onto his pile of clothes on the ground, deciding it can be dealt with later.  His most pressing concern at the moment is Y/N.

He lays back down on his side so he can face her, and pushes a lock of hair away from her closed eyes.

“Y/N.” Harry murmurs, hand resting on her waist carefully. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is rough when she answers, and Harry can hear the echo of her moans in her words. “I-I’m fine, H.  Just…tired.”

“Do you…” Harry bites his lip. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Y/N gives a slight shake of her head. “Maybe—maybe tomorrow, yeah?” She does her best to open one eye, but quickly shuts it again when she sees how Harry is looking at her. “Can’t right now.”

“Okay.” Harry lays his arm over her side as he moves closer. “Tomorrow.”

Y/N presses her head into his shoulder and commits the scent of his skin to memory.

…

The first thing Y/N registers when she wakes up is the feeling of someone touching her hair.

She doesn’t need to open her eyes to know it’s Harry.  Of course it’s Harry.  It’s always been Harry.  In every way.

Y/N sighs and readjusts her position in bed, moving a bit closer to Harry.  She shivers once from the cold, still naked from last night’s activities, and that’s the only hint Harry needs before he pulls the sheet up around her more.

“Are you awake?” He asks softly, careful in case she’s still lost deep in sleep.

Y/N moves her head in a passable nodding motion, and her voice is thick with sleep when she answers. “Mhmm.  Barely.”

A low chuckle escapes from Harry’s mouth, and the next thing Y/N feels are his warm lips against her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“A little hungover.  A little sore.” Y/N finally opens her eyes as she speaks, and almost wishes she hadn’t.

Harry’s hair is a mess from both sex and sleep, messy and wild and haphazardly pushed out of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed, and his neck and chest are covered in marks from both Y/N’s lips and fingers.  She knows that if he turned over, his back would be the same, and it embarrasses her and delights her at the same time.  He looks completely fucked and content, and more relaxed than she’s seen him in ages.

Y/N wonders if she looks the same.  If she looks as pretty.

“Sorry.” Harry says, his tone a bit sheepish.

“It’s not your fault.” Y/N replies, shrugging a bit.

“Well…it is, actually.  I made your drinks.  And I…” He trails off, brushing his fingers down her bare hip to her thigh.

“Yeah.” Y/N feels her face get warm. “I guess it is your fault.”

Harry laughs lightly, but it fades away as he looks into her eyes. “We, uh…we should probably talk about what happened.”

Y/N purses her lips. “Yeah. We should.”

“So…first question, I guess.” Harry props his head up on his arm, but keeps running his fingers over Y/N’s hip gently. “Do you regret it?”

Y/N sits up a bit more in bed, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. “No.  I don’t.  Do you?”

“No.” Harry replies instantly. “I don’t regret it.”

“Okay.” Y/N is so aware of Harry’s eyes on her as she thinks of her question. “Did…did you enjoy it?”

A snort falls from Harry’s mouth, and he shakes his head incredulously. “Christ, Y/N, of course I enjoyed it.  It felt—you felt like heaven.”

Y/N flushes at the comment. “I’ve never…I’ve always made my partners wear condoms.  So that was a first for me.”

Harry’s fingers pause over her hip, but only for a moment.  It looks as though he’s deciding whether or not he should comment on that, but changes his mind at the last moment. “Did you enjoy it?” He asks instead, echoing your question.

“I did.”

“You said you were mine.”

Y/N swallows hard. This conversation is less incriminating than making love to him last night, but it seems infinitely more powerful. Probably because they’re both sober, she thinks.

“That—” She clears her throat. “That’s not a question.”

Harry sighs, but there’s an endeared smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You said you were mine. Did you mean that?”

Y/N can’t look him in the eyes, so she looks down instead.  Harry’s hand lies between them, and she intertwines their fingers, playing with his rings as she carefully formulates her answer. “I’ve—I’ve always been yours, H.  Ever since we were kids, I’ve belonged to you.” She runs a finger over his H ring. “Even when you were gone.”

Harry frowns a bit at the tone of her voice. “I’ve been yours too, Y/N.  I belong to you just as much as you belong to me.”

“You’ve always been further out of reach.” Y/N pulls her hand from his, until their fingertips are just barely touching. “Always just…a little out of reach.”

Harry intertwines their fingers again. “I’m not out of reach.  Not right now.  And I’ve never—if you ever called me and said you needed me, I would’ve been on the first flight back home to you.  I would’ve dropped everything for you, Y/N.  I still would, and I always will.”

Tears prick Y/N’s eyes, and although she hurries to close them, one slips out.  Harry catches it on his finger before it can run off her cheek, and when she looks at him again, there’s a concerned look on his face.

“C’mere.” Harry mumbles, pulling Y/N into a tight hug.  He rubs her back like he always does, and the motion is so comforting that she almost forgets the vulnerable position they’re both in. “You’re my girl.  You’re always going to be my girl.” He murmurs in her ear, voice low and soothing. “Always.  Don’t you know that?”

Y/N nods, not trusting her voice at the moment.

“If this is too much for you…” Harry traces his fingers between her shoulder blades.  Y/N thinks he’s tracing words, like they used to as children, but she can’t tell what words he may be tracing. “I understand. We can just—we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I—” Y/N shakes her head, looking up at Harry. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N?” Harry asks, his tone as pleading as it was last night. “All I’ve ever tried to do is give you what you want, and usually I’m pretty good at telling what that is, but right now, I’m lost.  I don’t want things to go back to how they were, but I don’t—I can’t lose you, so just—if you just tell me what you want, I’ll do it.  I’ll make it work.  I promise that I won’t be mad, or hurt, or anything.”

Y/N sits up as best she can, her fingers combing through Harry’s messy curls on reflex, as she always does it when he gets upset. “I can’t pretend that I don’t want you, H.  I do.  I need you.  I told you that last night.”

“But you’re crying.” Harry cups her wet cheek gently, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. “I hate that.”

Y/N leans into his touch. “It just feels…strange.” She says after a moment. “All of this.  I spent so long trying to stop myself from thinking of you like this, and now that I am, I feel like—like it’s wrong.”

Harry tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth. “Does it feel wrong?”

His low voice makes her shiver. “No.  It feels right.  Really right.”

“I feel like…” Harry’s eyes flicker between Y/N’s own eyes and their intertwined hands. “I feel like we’re both dancing around saying it.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “Saying what?”

“Saying…” Harry leans in and presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Saying that we’re in love with each other.”

Y/N feels breathless at the words coming from his mouth. “You’re in love with me?”

“Are you not in love with me?” He replies, moving so he’s leaning over her more. “We’ve said I love you so many times before.”

“That’s a different kind of love.” Y/N mumbles, touching the chain dangling from Harry’s neck.

“But we were both meaning something different when we were saying it.  At least, I was.” Harry inhales deeply, like he’s centering himself. “I’ve known…for a while, but I’ve felt it for longer than I’ve known it. And I thought that you might…”

“I think I do.” Y/N whispers. “But saying it feels so—so permanent.  Like we can’t go back to being friends if it blows up in our faces.”

Harry traces a finger down Y/N’s cheek, her neck, between her breasts, to her side, touching just below her ribs. “Maybe we can’t.  But I don’t think we’ll want to, Y/N.  I think we’re perfect for each other.”

Y/N’s heart pounds in her chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “This last month, it’s been like we’ve been…playing house, or something.  I’ve loved it.  I keep hearing from friends saying that they’re so sick of the person they’re living with, so tired of them, but I’ve never felt that way about you, and I don’t think I ever will.  I’ll never get sick of you.”

Y/N laughs a bit. “That’s romantic.”

“Shut up.” Harry can’t help but smile slightly. “It is romantic.”

“Yeah.  It is.” Y/N says softly, her hand rubbing over Harry’s tattooed arm. “You’re really in love with me?”

Harry nods. “I am.”

“Huh.” Y/N bites her lip. “So I guess we’ve been lying to our moms, haven’t we?”

Harry laughs loudly, collapsing on the bed next to Y/N. “Jesus, can you not mention our mums when we’re naked in bed?”

“I’m just saying!  We’ve been saying for years that you’re not in love with me, and it’s all been a lie.”

“What about when they ask if you’re in love with me?” Harry’s tone is joking, but there’s a hint of nervousness in the back of his voice. “Has that been a lie, too?”

Y/N’s heart pounds as she nods. “Yeah.  We’ll have to get them something really good for Mother’s Day this year to help make up for it.”

A grin spreads over Harry’s face, almost triumphant, as he leans down to kiss her. “Agreed.” He moves to cage himself over Y/N. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“I want to hear you say that you’re in love with me.” Harry’s grin turns into a smirk.

Y/N flushes as she shakes her head. “You say it first.”

“I’ve already admitted it!”

“So have I!”

“Not as well as I have!”

“Oh, so it’s a competition now?” Y/N scoffs. “What a wonderful start to our relationship.”

“I’m just saying, Y/N, admitting it is the first step to—”

“Are you seriously going to say that to get me to say that I love you?”

“Just—”

“You’re so irritating—”

“I’m irritating?  You—”

“You’re the worst!”

“And yet you’re in my bed with no clothes on!”

“Okay.  Nope.  Relationship over.” Y/N pushes Harry off of her and wraps the sheet around herself as she gets out of bed. “You blew it, Styles.”

“Y/N.” Laughter falls from Harry’s lips as he leans over the edge of the bed. “Love.  Come back to bed.”

“I think a minute and thirty-seven seconds may be the record for the world’s shortest relationship.” Y/N searches her bag for some clean clothes.

“Come here!”

“Another world record for Harry Styles.” Y/N calls to him without turning around. “You must be so proud—”

Her words are cut off in a shriek as Harry picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder as he brings her back to his bed.

“Harry!” She yells, hitting his arm. “Put me down!”

Harry tosses her on the bed, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, and cages himself over her sheet-covered body.  He’s still completely bare. “Take it back.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Fine. We’re still together.  One less record for you.”

“Good.  Now…” Harry brushes a finger over her lips. “Say you’re in love with me.”

Y/N’s laughter fades a bit as the nerves set back in. “I…”

“Please, Y/N?” Harry murmurs, leaning down to kiss her neck. “Please say it.”

“I’m—” Y/N sucks in a quick breath, and all of her protest leaves her body as she exhales. “I’m in love with you, Harry.”

She can feel Harry’s lips forming a grin against her neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Y/N tugs on his hair gently, just enough so she can pull his head back to look in his eyes. “Now you say it.”

“Y/N.” Harry says her name like it’s something precious. “I’m in love with you.”

A flush of pleasure crawls up Y/N’s spine at his words, but she does her best to keep her tone light-hearted. “So are you calling our moms, or am I?”

“I’ll do it.” Harry reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “And I’ll be sure to mention how it took us getting drunk and having sex to realize—”

“Harry!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell your mum we used a condom—”

“I’ll kill you, Styles, and I’ll make it look like an accident.” Y/N shoves his shoulder hard.

Harry grins at her. “Now that’s romantic.”

[tester2080]

The Leaving Cert is an awful system.

09/09/21

In case you are not from Ireland, the Leaving Cert(ificate) is the exam system that determines which uni we can get into. Rather than having a GPA via continual assessments or any sort of entrance exam or letter of application we simply have one set of exams. There are obviously other exams (such as the christmas and summer exams in other years), however, the Leaving Cert exam is the only one that matters.

When you take a subject you can either do ordinary or higher level. Ordinary level is easier but rewards less points, and higher level is more difficult, but rewards more points. A H1 is worth 100 points (except for HL maths which is 125) and is given if you get between 90 and 100%. A H2 is 88 points and 80-90% and so on. An O1 is 90-100% in an ordinary level subject but only 56 points. There are some weird changes to the system when it comes to medicine but I won't get into that right now. Universities award places based solely on the points you receive. This leads into the first problem.

Whilst the education experience is a multi year process (6 years in secondary school in our case), what determines your uni course is a single event, often just a single week out of many years of learning. This is insanity and leads to so many obvious problems. A person could be getting H1s throughout the year and forgot to study just one topic and end up with a H3 in the leaving cert at the end, and a H3 student could get lucky and study a topic that happens to come up and get a H1. Even a single grade can be the difference between getting into the uni you want and losing out. The leaving cert does not measure you abilities as a student, your effort, or even sometimes your ability. The leaving cert measures your memory and how well you can perform on the day. You getting 100% in every single subject for the past 6 years and a family member dies a few days before the exams and it absolutely ruins your mental state? Too bad. In the eyes of the university you are not a good enough student. You are a perfect student but got a bit nervous and stayed up a bit late the night before to get some extra study in and are tired the next day? Too bad. You've been getting 625 in every set of mock tests but on the day your mind goes blank with the incredible stress, the knowledge that one test will determine the rest of your life? Too. Bad. There are no exceptions to the hand of the points system and claw of bad luck. You cannot explain to the uni. They. Will. Not. Care. Nothing else is taken into account. Students will have bad days. That's just life, we're all human. However that must be accounted for. Nobody should miss out on their life's dream because of a single day. That is absolutely absurd.

When you ask someone what education is about t. There is a filter type system for different categories of posts and all that, so if you're interested in what I have to say, I'd recommend going there for the better experience. I also have no fucking clue how to use tumblr sof you ask them what the leaving cert is about they will say it's about getting into uni. Clearly there is a disconnect here. Where has education become so distorted that now it is nothing more than a way for universities to quickly and easily judge us? Education must be about teaching children, not for some uni test, but simply so they can become more knowledgeable, so they can get a thirst for information, so they can locate their strengths and weaknesses, so future generations can live better lives than we will. University selections must be nothing more than an afterthought. It is even worse when the leaving cert is a horrendously stressful system. We put ourselves through sometimes 6 years of stress and bad quality of mental health to make it easier for universities??? What a ridiculous idea.

The leaving cert isn't even a fair way to judge students. Here, I'll be able to determine how good you're likely to do in the leaving cert with two simple questions. Do you have a good memory? Are you good at maths? If you answered yes to both, the chances of you doing well are very high and if you answered no to both - well - the chances aren't quite as good. A huge amount of the leaving cert is simply a memory test. I know the state will talk constantly about how rote learning is discouraged and all that, but realistically that's not the case. Take for example the English paper. You get to know which poets might come and which poems you can use before the exam. This mean your teacher can simply write you a good sample answer and if you can remember it, that's at least a H2 for that part of the exam. And as for being good at maths - if you're good at maths you already have 3 subjects which you can say with reasonable certainty you will be good at - maths, physics, and applied maths. Students who aren't good at maths have nothing like this unless they are fluent in several languages. A big problem when you arises most of the non maths subjects are based on memory, and the ones not based on memory are based on maths. History? Memorising essays. Irish? Memorising poems. Biology? A lot of memorising. Physics? A lot of maths. Accounting? A lot of memorising. This continues throughout basically all the exam subjects, with only maybe one or two exceptions. I know someone who hasn't even started 5th year, and yet they already know they're screwed and have basically given up on their first choice course because they have dyscalculia and a terrible memory. They can try as hard as they want, study as hard as they can, but realistically, they aren't going to come close to someone with a good memory and are good at maths who put in the bare minimum effort. It's bizarre too, given the amount of jobs that don't require either maths or a good memory.

The subjects you can study in the leaving cert is also extremely limited. You have to study Irish, English, Maths, and a third language. In public schools you then basically have the option of History, Geography, Accounting, Business, Economics, Art, Music, Religion, Chemistry, Biology, Physics and DCG. There are no electives to try out things similar to careers you might be interested or anything like that. Now those that plan to go into business will be happy I'm sure, however, for most other people, the subjects have very little in common with the career you want to do. You're doing law? I suppose a business subject might somewhat help??? You're doing computer science? Maths is kinda related. Medicine? Biology sure, perhaps a little bit of chemistry? But at most 2 out of your 6 subjects will actually be any way relevant to your career. To make it even worse, public schools have subjects in blocks. This means there will 3 blocks of subjects and you pick one from each block. You're super good at both physics, chemistry, and business? Well too bad, there's a very high chance you won't get to study all 3, and you'll have to pick up geography or some other subject you have no interest in. In some cases all 3 of the subjects you like may be in the same block, meaning you'll have to pick up 2 subjects you have no interest in and will likely be worse at. Once again, simple luck plays a huge part in the leaving cert. Going into 5th year, the subjects you're allowed pick will likely change your eventual points by around 30 or possibly more. Furthermore, private schools provide a massive advantage, often with your chance of getting good grades being around 4 times higher. You were born with well off parents? Congrats, here's an extra 100 points have fun. Absolute insanity. The leaving cert is really just determined by luck every way you look at it. Now obviously luck plays a part in everyday life too, but the leaving cert basically caters to the lucky, and a whole lot could be done to reduce the benefit they have based on luck alone, rather than quality of character, or time studied, or effort put in, etc.

I suppose I've reached the stage where I should stop complaining and start giving actual suggestions for improvements then. Fine. Firstly, remove the idiotic one exam process. Instead have some sort of GPA system with continual testing, so it shows how good a student is on average, not just on their worst/best day. Increase the amount of uni places available so that getting into the uni and career you want becomes more of an afterthought, rather than a constant stress looming over you. Add more subjects and electives that will be relevant to the career the student is planning to go into. Make learning and discovering your strengths and weaknesses and just enjoying life in general a main focus. Give students time to relax and do sports outside of school, even in 6th year (which is something basically impossible to do under the current system). Allow the tests that determine the GPA to be open book. Make understand more important than simply memorising. Remove the subject block system so students can do all the subjects they actually enjoy and are good at. I believe that the single test system is one of the reasons that private schools perform so well, by removing that, I believe the scores wouldn't be so far apart. However additions restrictions, or even total banning, of private schools could be implemented. After all, surely everyone deserves the same quality of education. These are children and teenagers for gods sake. There shouldn't be a heirachy of education based on their parents wealth. All students should be given the same opportunities. Private schools largely do better due to having better teachers. There currently isn't a large enough supply of very good teachers to go around, and the private schools can simply buy up the majority of good ones. We should pay teachers more, a lot of people thinking about careers may be dissuaded from teaching, despite having a passion, due to the low pay. Many good teachers also go to places like Dubai thanks to the better pay. Overall in society, teachers are sort of dismissed as a profession, and if we wish to improve the lives of the next generations, this must change.

[thelastspeecher]

Stanuary ‘21 - Week Four: Future

So, do y’all remember a while back, when I asked for scenes from the Stanley McGucket AU that you wanted to see but I didn’t write?  Well, that’s because I had decided to choose that OG AU as my AU for this week, but was struggling to come up with how to handle the prompt.

Luckily, I managed to come up with an idea for it that I hope will bring the feels.  The first part takes place at some point in the “Stan Pines, Farmhand” sequel to “Stanley McGucket”, while the second part (which was inspired by the sub-theme of “Epilogue”) takes place immediately after the last chapter.

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

              The pickup truck came to a stop.

              “I’ve got some chores to finish up,” Pa McGucket said.  His voice was thick with emotion.  At the airport earlier, he had put on a brave face, but once Angie’s plane took off, he immediately burst into tears.

              Can’t really blame him.  I felt the same way.  Pa McGucket got out of the truck and headed for the barn.  Ma McGucket, sniffling softly, exited the truck as well.  With a sigh, Stan got out and followed Ma McGucket inside.  Ma McGucket promptly disappeared into the kitchen.  The clattering of pots and pans soon sounded.  Stan had figured out early on that Ma McGucket liked to bake when she was upset or stressed.  Hope she’s making cookies this time.

              Stan trudged down the hall sadly.  He came to the stairs that led to the second floor. After a moment, he began to climb them. The carpeting muffled his footsteps. He walked to Angie’s bedroom.  The door was slightly ajar.  He pushed it open the rest of the way.  The room looked as it normally did.  The bed was neatly made, books organized in a particular manner on the bookshelf, tchotchkes artfully placed on the dresser. Even the floor had been recently vacuumed.  Despite everything being in place, it felt wrong without Angie, scolding Stan for peeking into her room.

              Well, looks like we’re back to the house being empty.  While Angie and her siblings had been visiting for winter break, the house had felt full and happy, like when Stan first moved in.  But gradually, each sibling went back to school or their home, until Angie, whose spring semester started the latest, was the last one.  She’s so energetic and loud, I could barely tell she was the only one here.

              Stan stared at the empty room for a few more moments before sighing and closing the door.  The sound of Ma McGucket’s new stand mixer – a group Christmas gift from Angie, Lute, and Stan – carried to the second floor.  However, the radio kept in the kitchen hadn’t been turned on. Curious, Stan went back downstairs and into the kitchen just as Ma McGucket turned off her stand mixer.  Ma McGucket looked up.

              “I ain’t even put it in the oven yet, how’d ya know I was bakin’?” she asked.  Her eyes shone in a way that suggested she was holding back tears, but other than that, she showed no signs of sadness.

              She’s always been better at hiding her emotions than Mearl.

              “You bake when yer upset,” Stan said.  Sally pointed a wooden spoon at him.

              “Watch what ya say, Stanley.”

              “I’m just tellin’ the truth.”

              “Hmph.”  Ma McGucket crossed her arms.  “I’m beginnin’ to regret makin’ yer fav’rite.”

              “Chocolate chip cookies?”

              “Yep.  But I could easily change it to be raisins instead,” Ma McGucket said, raising an eyebrow. Stan held up his hands in surrender, eliciting a smile from her.  The smile quickly faded, however, as she searched his face.  “Is there somethin’ wrong?”

              “No, it, uh, it’s just weird havin’ the house be quiet and empty again.”

              “Yes, it certainly is,” Ma McGucket said softly. She dumped chocolate chips into the mixing bowl and stirred.  “But I don’t think that’s the only reason yer lookin’ down in the dumps.”

              “I…”  Stan trailed off.  Ma McGucket set the wooden spoon down.  She walked over to the kitchen table and sat.

              “Sit ‘n chat with me, Stan,” she said, patting the chair next to her.  Stan sat next to Ma McGucket.  She fixed her brilliant blue eyes, the same as Angie’s, on him.  “What’s goin’ on, son?”  Stan looked down at the table.  He idly traced the scratches in the wood, which he had been told Harper made shortly after getting his first pocketknife.  “Stanley, talk to me.”

              “What am I s’pposed to do, Sally?” Stan asked finally.

              “Yer goin’ to need to be more specific.”

              “I just-”  Stan sighed.  “All yer kids went off to college.  All the friends I made in school are at college.  Ford’s at college.  It feels weird bein’ the only one still at home.”  His volume dropped sharply.  “But, I guess I can’t really do anything else but stay at home.”

              “Ah.”  Ma McGucket leaned back in her chair.  “This isn’t just ‘bout secondary education.  This is ‘bout yer future.”

              “Well, yeah,” Stan mumbled.  He continued to resolutely avoid eye contact.  “I don’t know what I’m s’pposed to do now.  Can’t have a future if I don’t have a plan fer it.”

              “Now, that just ain’t true,” Ma McGucket said sharply.  Stan looked up in shock.  “I was older ‘n ya when I fin’lly figured out what my future was goin’ to look like. And plannin’ didn’t have anything to do with it.  Heck, the day I realized what my future was, that was the day I threw out the plan I’d had since I was a kid.”

              “Whattaya mean?”

              “To be fair, the plan weren’t really mine. It was my parents’.  From birth, they planned on me gettin’ a law degree and then settlin’ down with some high society feller that they would choose fer me. But then the plan went off the tracks when I met Mearl at college.  I started thinkin’ that maybe I didn’t want to do what I had always been told I would.

              “My relationship with Mearl got serious. Serious enough that I decided to finally tell my folks ‘bout it.  They…didn’t take it well.  They told me, in no uncertain terms, that they wouldn’t support my relationship with a poor farmer who barely graduated high school.  That day, I came to my crossroads.”

              “Crossroads?” Stan asked.  Ma McGucket leaned in, her eyes warm and wise.

              “Everyone walks their own path.  Ya come across a lot of opportunities to go a dif’rent direction, but they’re optional, where ya can stay the course instead of go somewhere else.  Most of the time, those optional routes ain’t that far from yer original path anyways. But in every path, there’s a crossroads. A moment where the road ‘fore ya fully diverges.  Ya can’t keep goin’ the same way anymore.  Ya have to make a choice.

              “When I came to my crossroads, I saw two futures ahead of me.  In one, I did what my parents wanted.  I would continue to live a high-society, comfortable life where I didn’t want fer anything.  But I wouldn’t be happy.  I wouldn’t be fulfilled.  In the other, I stayed with Mearl, and let my fam’ly disown me.  Money would be tight, I would have to work harder than I ever had just to get by.  But I’d be with the person I loved.”  Stan nodded.

              “Yeah, you told me before that ya gave up yer cushy life to marry Mearl.”

              “Only partially,” Ma McGucket said softly.  “I didn’t just leave my fam’ly fer Mearl.  I left ‘em fer myself.  When they told me I couldn’t stay with him, that I would have to be with one of the suitors they already had lined up fer me, everything came crashin’ down.  It was like I had been in a fog my whole life, only fer it to suddenly disperse, revealing everything I couldn’t see before.  I saw just how much I had been under their thumb, under their control.  I saw my future clearer ‘n ever ‘fore.  And I saw the crossroads up ahead.

              “I knew that if I left my fam’ly fer Mearl, there was a chance Mearl ‘n I wouldn’t stay together anyways.  But even if we broke up, I would still be free.  I’d say that it weren’t a choice at all, with how easy it was fer me to make it.  But that would be minimizing its importance.”  Ma McGucket met Stan’s eyes squarely.  “I chose my path.  I walked down it.  I never looked back.”

              “Why…why did you tell me that?” Stan asked, feeling slightly numb from the intensity of Ma McGucket’s story.

              “Because one day, you’ll come to yer crossroads. You’ll see yer future ‘fore ya and have to make a choice.”

              “But what am I s’pposed to do until then?” Stan demanded.  He could feel frustration growing.

              Just give me a straight answer!

              “What do ya want to do?” Ma McGucket asked.

              “I don’t know!” Stan raged.  “That’s the whole point, it-”  Ma McGucket held up a hand, silencing him.

              “Are ya happy ‘n healthy now?” she asked.  “Are ya content in yer life?”  Stan opened his mouth.  “Don’t give me whatever answer ya think I want to hear.  Give me the truth.”  Stan closed his mouth and stared down at the table again, the gears in his head furiously turning.  After a moment, he nodded.

              “Yeah.  I am.”

              “Then there’s no reason to change things, is there?” Ma McGucket said simply.  “You’ll know what you want someday.  You’ll see your future ahead of ya.  But until then…”  She placed her hand over his, smiling.  “Just stay the course until ya come to yer own crossroads.”

-----

              Finally, soft snoring sounded from the passenger’s seat. Stan glanced over.

              It’s about time Ford fell asleep.  Ford’s face was smushed against the window, his glasses askew.  His snoring almost harmonized with the snoring coming from the back seat.  Speaking of…  Stan looked in the rearview mirror.  He smiled.  The source of the snoring, as he’d expected, was Emily.  Even though she was much bigger than Angie now, she still had defaulted to resting her head on her mother’s shoulder while sleeping.  To his surprise, Angie was asleep as well.  Or is she?

              “Ang?” Stan asked quietly.

              “Shh, I don’t want yer pomegranates,” Angie mumbled. Stan chuckled.

              Yep.  She’s asleep.  He turned his attention back to the road.  With no conversation to hold his focus and the radio stations fading in and out, Stan’s mind wandered.  Eventually, it settled onto the day Angie had left for college, decades ago.  The conversation he’d had with Ma McGucket about his future.

              “Just stay the course until ya come to yer own crossroads.”

              “Never did find those crossroads, Sally,” Stan said out loud.

              Unless…

              Another memory resurfaced.  Sitting on the side of the road, his back pressed against a tire, gravel prodding his legs through his worn jeans.  A man walking over, crouching down, watching him with an expression so fatherly it felt foreign.  An offer.

              “We're lookin' fer a new farmhand.  We're gettin' on in years, and our kids are gone most of the time.  They can't help out as much as they used to.”

              “What are you saying?”

              “I'm sayin' that if ya want a job, a nice bed, and three square meals a day, we can give that to ya.”

              “What's the catch?”

              “Only that ya work hard.”

              “…Okay.”

              The beginnings of tears pricked the corners of Stan’s eyes at the memory of Pa McGucket’s kindness and warmth.  Ever since he had passed away, remembering Mearl made Stan wistful, no matter how positive the memory was.  Stan hurriedly wiped the tears away.  He smiled despite the sudden sadness.

              The only thing he knew about me was my name, and he still took me in.  Stan glanced in the rearview mirror again.  More memories bubbled to the surface.  First meeting the girl that would eventually become his wife, as well as his future brothers-in-law.  Making up with Ford.  Graduating high school.  Getting married.  Becoming a father.  None of that woulda happened if I had turned down Mearl’s offer.  Stan looked back at the highway, his smile broadening.

              Y’know what, Sally?  It happened a long time before we talked about it, but I did reach my own crossroads.

              And I think I made the right choice.

[astrarche-x]

The Poppy War: thoughts

Context: I saw this book heavily recommended on tumblr and even though I didn't research it (to avoid spoilers), it looked like something for me. I also realized recently that I haven't read a modern high fantasy in a while, so when my friend told me "hey, I've read this book and need someone to rant about it with", I was like "sure can I borrow it?". It is worth noting that my friend's tone was rather disapproving and we mostly share our taste in books, but still, I approached The Poppy War with a very favourable mindset.

Which didn't last very long.

Fortunately, after some time the book got better, so: disapproval first, praise later.

- the first part, aka Rin's time in academia, was so predictable and cliche I went through it purely out of malice (to be able to roast it). It was fitting every cliche you can find in a books set at school and bore me to death.

- Jiang: aaaa. This is coming from my personal experiences, but I've had a hard time with my "cool but weird" teacher lately and I just can't get past this trope without being angry at writers who do not acknowledge how toxic it usually is. (tho in Jiang's case it was more or less ok) Also the reveal of his backstory was very predictable.

- Rin: i couldn't bear how "edgy" she was. I started to like her when the actual war begun and she turned from "i'm not like others lol" to "i'm so scared, i want to be safe. also what is sleep". (also because she has been a chaotic mess the whole time and the war actually made it more believable). I had issues with her character though - for example she comes to the academia when she's like 15/16 and even though a lot happens to her over the course of the action, i had a feeling she hasn't actually matured. Did she develop? In terms of abilities, knowledge, rage etc - yes. But I didn't think she was more mature at the end and it really bothered me (as i was still picturing as a 15-year-old and had to constantly remind myself that she's an adult now).

- self-harm: uuh handled in a weird way? It's obvious that Rin's self-harming to cope with stress in academia is not healthy and the context shows that the heroine is under immense pressure which has a bad effect on her, but the narrative seems to present self-harm as a necessity to manage life and never really condemns it - not only explicitly, but any negative consequences of it are also absent.

- this book (and Grishaverse) would be more enjoyable if I hadn't taken that basic Russian course. I cringed every time I read Kitay's name (and it appears quite often...). Literally why name your character China? It's such a bad idea...

- I don't know if the original edition has trigger warnings, but oh boy, i kinda wish Polish one had them too. Not that they would actually stop me from reading this, but I started this book with intent to get some nice escapism with a tad of intellectual challenge and I wasn't quite prepared for what I got. I saw a post that talked about how in fantasy or sci-fi wars are a thing that just happens and serve more as a plot device, but are not treated as like an actual tragedy and how this isn't the case for The Poppy War. I think this is a very good point and I very much agree with this but I wish this book was marketed in a more accurate way (with mention of the genocides) than "cool protagonist goes from poor orphan to badass" (almost literal description from the back cover).

- on genocides: the Golyn Niis part was so hard to read. It totally gave me flashbacks to the time when we talked about Shoah in Polish lessons in high school and I had to read like 4 short stories by Tadeusz Borowski about Auschwitz, one novella by Zofia Nałkowska about investigating Nazi crimes and one book about the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising by Hanna Krall & Marek Edelman* (and it was all in the span of like 1-1,5 month) - all of which were written by survivors of said events, so it was an extremely difficult and emotionally exhausting read. Parts of The Poppy War had the same effect on me, so it shows the author really did her research and is to be appreciated, although while I would like to know what happens plot-wise in the next parts of the trilogy, I think it would be too emotionally draining for me to read.

- Having said all this, I found the Speer genocide theme really interesting. The legends and propaganda surrounding it, its impact on both country politics and Altan's (and Rin's) personal stories... Also I really liked how Rin's perception and understanding of it changed. Plus it served really well as a backstory - its effect on the whole plot was huge and manifesting in unexpected places but without the feeling of being hammered into reader's head.

- Altan: that guy. He was an interesting character, but a very unlikeable one. He was such an asshole... (And yeah obvs still trauma and all that but he really was one). Also I found it confusing that at the end of the book Rin was like "omg his power is so strong because he's fueled by revenge!"... duuh? It was obvious since her convo with Jiang about lore students?

- But generally Rin's relation to Altan was for me one of the strong points of this book. I'd say that Rin's emotions regarding him were very realistically written - admiration, longing for approval, the feeling of similarity, anger, frustration about his expectations, the need to rise to the challenge he posed, to be his equal... And then the shock as he fell from the pedestal she constructed; the understanding, the pity and the sadness. I loved how complicated that was and that we as readers got to see that Rin's Altan and the actual Altan were two different persons, even though the narrative is close to Rin's POV.

- Chaghan: he was my fave character. This is, again, personal, but works of fiction work 200% better for me if the characters are well-written - which The Poppy War rather lacked: few characters were interesting and even less were likeable. Chaghan was both - maybe he didn't have a big arc and was rather a secondary character, but he was intriguing, had that close bond with Altan (I ship them) and also was the most competent person in the cike (Quara was the second one). He was very straightforward and had that no-bullshit attitude, but unlike Rin, Altan etc., what he said and his actions actually made sense. So every time he had to went away from the main character I was devastated...

- What I really enjoyed about this book was the parts about shamanism. I'm not an expert about what goes on in modern fantasy, but I have a feeling that a character of a shaman often appears in a very exoticised way (wonder why is that /s), whereas in this book it was treated seriously and was a basis for a great magic system. 9/10 very original take, highly recommend.

* books mentioned: "Medaliony" by Zofia Nałkowska, "Zdążyć przed panem Bogiem" (eng: Shielding the flame) by Hanna Krall & Marek Edelman, Pożegnanie z Marią by Tadeusz Borowski

[nctsiren]

Thank you for turning on anon uwu for the ask game thingy can I ask these for all of the girls? daydreams, caress, ivory, golden, freckles, twilight, poppy, clouds, roses, lollipop, dimples, whisper, pencil, honey, velvet, strawberry, kiss, shampoo, lace, sapphos?

hewwo anon!!! thank u for requesting!! i’m sorry it’s late :(( hope you enjoy, nonetheless!! i enjoyed writing it 🥺

daydream-

hyeyoung: “i think i’ll say joan jett or debbie harry!! i admire them a lot, i love their music, and i think it’d be fun to be a rock singer.”

mila: “i think it’d be nice to be beetle. i’ve always wondered how his mind works. being a dog seems cool”

evie was answered in my other post!!

jimin: “seulgi unnie!! i’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be perfect ;)”

caress-

hyeyoung: “i love to snuggle... i like when johnny lays between my legs with his head on my chest. it makes me so happy.”

mila: “yes... but i play hard to get with some of the wayv members. i feel at ease cuddling with ten.”

evie was answered in my other post!!

jimin: “there are hundreds of youtube comps of me being snuggly and affectionate .. i just love my members”

ivory-

hyeyoung: “i wear matching sets. like the pants and the button up shirt? or the silk/satin shorts and matching tank tops. i love cute pajamas, i always have.”

mila: “i usually wear a sports bra and boxers or shorts.”

evie: “big shirt and my underwear.”

jimin: “usually a big hoodie and shorts!”

golden-

hyeyoung: “i cannot choose!! i own lots of stationary, and i scrapbook, as well.”

mila: “i’m not really a stationary person. just gimme some lined paper and i am all good.”

evie: “i love a good pen.”

jimin: “AHH i’m a sucker for the cute stationary cards. i like writing letters and notes”

freckles-

hyeyoung: “honestly, i have a pair of black cigarette pants that i love to pieces. i wear them often- they just go with everything and are so comfortable!”

mila: “i... honestly probably this hoodie i stole from lucas. it’s super big and comfy. if i don’t wear it at certain times i feel like something bad will happen ://“

evie: “i have this big, chunky grandpa sweater that’s striped and i wear it to the point where it might start falling apart.”

jimin: “it’s not really a clothing item, but i’ve worn the lily necklace chenle gave me every day since i got it. and my necklace that’s just my name, jimin, in cursive.”

twilight (this is their best friend outside of the other girls)-

hyeyoung: “i know it’s cheesy, but johnny, for obvious reasons... i’m also quite close to irene unnie, as well as jaehyun and taeyong. it’s hard for me to pick.”

mila: “ten.”

evie: “i legitimately cannot pick outside of the girls... maybe lucas... or yuta... or doyo... i don’t fucking know.”

jimin: “chenle- i’m stuck with him.”

poppy-

hyeyoung: “pink. i’m not even much of a pink girl, but pastel pink is lovely.”

mila: “is... pastel orange a thing? i see it in my mind, but i don’t know if anyone else can.”

evie: “green. green is my favorite color in general, all shades.”

jimin: “lavender and periwinkle are my favorite colors outside of grey and white.”

clouds-

hyeyoung: “it was me alone in a practice room, but the room had large windows in it and it was so light. i was dancing- there was no music playling, but i still was. i felt so happy, and i stopped after twirling because johnny had arrived and he just smiled at me with so much love in his eyes.”

mila: “i honestly don’t remember my dreams, but i remember how i felt during them?”

evie was answered in my other post!!

jimin: “all of my dreams are weird and i don’t have a favorite because they’re too bizarre to enjoy.”

roses-

hyeyoung: “red roses... my late grandma, who was the person i loved most in the world, loved red roses.”

mila: “i think... tulips.”

evie was answered in my other post!!

jimin: “lilies, but not because of my name. my loved ones give them to me because of my name, but i love them because i receive them from my loved ones LMAO”

lollipop-

hyeyoung: “lipstick is my favorite. nice reds and pinks. i never go dark with lipstick- only dark eye makeup.”

mila: “i love ALL makeup”

evie: “i kind of hate wearing makeup, but i guess i’d pick eyebrow stuff.”

jimin: “mascara and blush! i like the heavy blush look.”

dimples-

hyeyoung: “my favorite thing is when i see people’s eyes crinkle when they smile. smiles and lips- oh, lips- are so beautiful.”

mila: “i love the variety of expressions that people can show even in a matter of seconds. i love seeing the range of emotions and thoughts on people’s faces.”

evie: “i love noses. all noses. also, i think facial structures are so lovely and unique. everyone is different.”

jimin: “smiles and eyes. i think eyes are so, so beautiful. i’ve never met anyone with eyes that aren’t beautiful. and smiles are heavenly because seeing a person’s joy written on their face is priceless.”

whisper-

hyeyoung: “i usually get the amount you’re supposed to get. i tend to go to bed earlier and wake up earlier. my alarm is santeria by sublime, like johnny’s...”

mila: “i have horrible, horrible insomnia and only get a very little amount.”

evie was answered on my other post!! ++ she also will sleep through ANYTHING even her alarms

jimin: “i either get too much or too little.”

pencil-

hyeyoung: “i bullet journal to plan, and i also write down the things that make me anxious during the day so that i can reflect and see what i could do next time to sooth myself more”

mila: “lined notebooks full of songs that i keep in a specific drawer. if i need to get out anything, it escapes my mind in a song”

evie: “my journals are 10% words, 90% drawings.”

jimin: “i have my song journals, but then i have my jimin journals which hold every intimate thought or emotion i have ever felt.”

honey-

hyeyoung: “baby or love. those are what johnny most commonly calls me. he likes to call me angel, too, and that really gets me :) .. we also call each other chipmunk.”

mila: “i used to hate being called lala, but now i love it. it’s also cute when evie calls me baozi, because i call her shumai. i also like bun.”

evie’s is answered on my other post!!

jimin: “uhh... baby, minmin (thanks, jisung), i like when people call me flower too 🥺”

velvet-

hyeyoung: “my first crush? i saw kurt cobain when i was little and thought he was the most handsome man i’d ever seen- i listened to a lot of nirvana growing up. a lot of people don’t expect me to like things like grunge or rock, but it’s very much my style!! im just shy and don’t dress to reflect it.”

mila: “i watched hercules when i was really little and became obsessed with meg. yup. it was the classic ‘i just thought i wanted to be her!’ but nope. gay.”

evie: “i don’t remember?! i think it was when i was in secondary school, because i didn’t like anyone for a while. just this classmate... and i was a cringe little fuck.”

jimin: “the first notable one i remember was when i was in second grade... i was reading twilight and fell in love with edward. yes, i was reading twilight in second grade, yes when i got to breaking dawn my mom didn’t let me read part of the honeymoon. i also had a crush on bella, and to this day, i would be in a throuple with robert pattinson and kristen stewart.”

strawberry-

hyeyoung: “cherries and strawberries, because they taste best covered in chocolate.”

mila: “mangos are so fucking good.”

evie: “grapes are arguably the best fruit and gumdrop grapes are arguably the best kind.”

jimin: “watermelon, bitchesssss”

kiss-

hyeyoung: “i mean, my first kiss was with a boy i was friends with when i was in america. we had both smoked a cigarette before it (i just wanted to try it) so it tasted bad. the other guys i kissed i weren’t proper friends with, and then johnny.”

mila: “um, ive kissed evie, like, when we were dating. i havent kissed many people to be honest...”

evie: “i kissed mila, i’ve kissed lily (a friendly peck), i’ve ALMOST kissed hyeyoung, i’ve kissed some of my guy friends and girl friends predebut- so, yes, i have kissed friends. and people who aren’t friends. i just like to kiss.”

jimin: “... sigh. renjun, chenle, evie, The Ex We Don’t Talk About, yeri (friendly, like with evie), and probably a few other friends in a non-romantic way? i dunno”

shampoo-

hyeyoung: “my favorite scent is johnny’s versace cologne, his shampoo, and his skin. definitely roses. i also love my perfume smell, clean linen, and i love the smell of champagne.”

mila: “i like the smell of cigarettes... YES i know it’s bad, but it calms me down. i’d also pick the smell of rain, or beetle, because he always smells good.”

evie: “the smell of paint and pencils is so comforting. i also like nature smells. when the air smells cold, it’s so nice. and the OCEAN.”

jimin: “home-y smells? laundry, and warm smells... lavender and florals, my perfume, and the smell of summer nights and bonfires. also any of my members.”

lace-

hyeyoung: definitely a dress person, is definitely in love with the classiness and sleeves of that first one, and is definitely happy about how sexy she looks in that second one.

mila: is NOT a dress person and prefers dresses that she can go braless with and are comfortable

evie: this is just Evie and we all know it

jimin: the first one is cute on it’s own AND with a big sweater/sweatshirt over it, and the second one make her feel like she on a european holiday

sapphos-

hyeyoung: “jiminnie :) she writes such beautiful poetry- i’m very thankful that she chose to share some with me!”

mila: “i don’t think i have a favorite poet, to be honest... i like kate bush, though, and i know she’s a singer, but she’s truly a poet.”

evie: “michael faudet. he wrote a series of poetry books, his first is called ‘dirty pretty things’ and it’s really 18+ but i thought it was gorgeous. i have all of his books.”

jimin: “asking me to pick a favorite poet is like asking me to pick a favorite member- can’t do it.”

[harryskalechips]

The long way home

a/n This is going to be a lil story I don’t know how long yet tbh but I hope you enjoy. 

Harry meets a girl named Alison on a train ride back home. Little did he know that Alison was going to be very well involved in his life

word count: 1627

The train to the city was right on schedule as I looked at my phone. I’ve been sitting here for a while as I patiently waited to catch my ride home. As the train blew its whistle as it appeared in front of me, I take my duffle bag and enter noticing a man sitting right beside my assigned seat.

“Hey.” I smile softly and put my bag on the shelves above us. He gave me a slight smile back and continued reading from his phone. He was cute though, severely. His eyes seemed to have a glimmer as he had his hair freshly cut. He was wearing a coat because of the weather and he seemed to love the trend of wearing Chelsea boots.

It was intimidating sitting beside a cute boy especially since I know I’m a three in most likely everyone’s eyes.

The train has been in motion for a while and we were almost halfway there to our destination. I was reading a memoir that caught my eye in the book store the other day. While the man beside me spoke up. “I read that. It’s really good.”

“Thanks for telling me, I was really about to stop reading it after this train ride.” he laughs and puts down his phone.

“I think when he starts talking about the loss of his father, the emotion starts rising and it makes readers more attracted to his life story but that’s just in my opinion.”

“It was pretty sad huh?”

“Yeah, I think many of us can relate to what he says even though we may have never experienced grief.”

“I’m Alison, by the way.” I smile and put down my book, giving him my hand to shake.

“Harry.”

“So do you live in the city or are you just visiting?”

“I actually live in the city, went to visit my old home in the suburbs to pack some things so I can sell it.”

“Really, wow. Guess the city life always drags you back in huh?”

“No,” He laughs and repositions himself in his seat. “My divorce was actually just finalized so I decided to move back closer to my office and just raise my son there.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that.” In reality, I didn’t know what else to say. How do you respond to someone and their failed marriage?

“It’s alright. It’s been about 2 years already since my wife and I changed.”

“How old is your son?”

“He’s three actually.

“Aw, he must be adorable.” I face myself more towards him. I guess I wanted to know more about who this man was.

“Do you live in the city?” He smiles at me with interest growing in his eyes.

“I’m about to. I just got an apartment with my best friend and then I gotta look for a job.” I close my eyes for a second. “Do you think it’s hard to find work in the city?”

“No, not at all but what is your experience?” Little did I know he was interviewing me right on the spot.

“Well, I was a receptionist at my mother’s clinic and I have a degree in sociology.”

“Where are you planning on applying?” “Anywhere that can help me pay my rent, to be honest.” He nods his head and takes a card from his phone.

“Here,” The card had Styles. Inc. bolded at the top. It had Harry’s name along with what I assume is his last name.

“CEO?” My eyes widened.

“Why? You surprised?” He smirks and rests his hand on his chin. “Just call the office number and tell my secretary you want to make an appointment about the Job interview posted a couple of days ago.”

“Wow, thank you. It means a lot.”

“I can’t guarantee you a job but this is the most I can do to help you out.” I smile and put the card away. “So, tell me more about yourself.”

“This better not count as part of my interview.”

“No, it won’t” We laugh together.

The rest of the train ride was light and easy as I soaked up Harry’s presence. He was very charismatic and I can see why he’s successful in his career path. We talked more about his son who I found out was named Dylan and things we both like to do. By the time I knew it we were in the city.

“It was nice meeting you, Alison.” He smiles and gives me a side hug as we exited the station. I noticed he had a driver waiting for him. As I watched him get in the car, I moved my eyes quickly away hoping he would not catch me staring at him. As he drove off I knew it was time for me to catch a cab.

~

“So he’s single? Maybe you should try and get with him.” Penny teases as she unloads the glass cups. I was stuck removing stickers from the new glass plates we had just bought.

“As if.” I laughed. “He’s a dad. He’s probably into women who have children too or at least know how to take care of one.”

“You took care of Toby pretty well.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Well, I only watched Toby for a couple of hours.” Toby was Penny’s nephew.

“Look at the time, you should get ready for that interview.” She glances at our new clock.  I push myself off the floor and stretch.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Good luck.” Penny wishes me as I head to my room. When I called Sabrina Harry’s secretary, she told me the job interview was for a personal assistant. I’m not sure if it was for Harry but I had a strong gut it was. It’s been a couple of days since I’ve seen him and I couldn’t stop thinking about what a catch he was. As much as I needed this job, it scared me about how strong of attraction I had for him.

I dressed as appropriate as I could as I left in rush out of my apartment. The cab dropped me off 25 minutes later to this big building. I knew Styles inc. was a popular company that manufactured computer parts but I didn’t realize how important they were in the secondary sector. Apparently, they manufacture other things and are branching into the car business as well.

“Hi, I have an appointment with Harry Styles,” I ask the front desk. She smiles softly and directs me to the elevator that leads me to the 17th floor.

As I stepped out of the elevator. Two women were dressed perfectly sitting at a marble desk, answering phone calls. The room was beautiful with a modern sleek look.

“Hello, I’m Alison Kingsley. I have an interview with Mr. Styles.”

“Hello, I’m Sabrina. Mr. Styles has actually been waiting for you so I’ll let you in now.” I nod my head silently and continue to follow her to a set of doors. She knocks and waits for his cue so she can let me in.

“Ms. Kingsley.” Harry smiles as he nods for Sabrina to leave. He was dressed perfectly in a white pinned up long sleeve polo and fancy pants. He looked so hot.

“Hello, Mr. Styles.” I pinch my lips together, weird how I usually think of calling him Harry first.

“Please sit down.” He smirks and makes his way to his seat. He bites his pen as he reads through my resumé. “So, you’re 24.”

“Yes.” He looks up at me and places the folder on his desk. He folds his hands together and stretches his neck a bit.

“Are you planning on going back to school? What do you want to be?”

“No, I’m not. I was planning on being a social worker for children but I’m not sure at the moment if it’s the right career for me.”

“And this job, do you see it being something that will work for you in the long run?”

“As of now, I truly believe that it’s a perfect match. I’m looking for something to do as I make a decision where I want to go on my career path. Being a personal assistant may seem like an easy job but I believe skills I’ll gain while working for whoever it may be is essential to where I want to go in the future.”

“You’ll actually be working for me. As I just moved into my new penthouse. I need someone to help me keep track of what’s going on in my personal life and a bit here too.” “Alright.”

“You won’t need to take care of Dylan but I do expect you get to know him and grow familiar with him since you’ll likely be with me wherever I go.” He smiles softly, reassuring me.

“Okay.” It seemed weird that he was expecting a lot of things from me especially since I wasn’t hired yet for the job.

“You won’t need to dress formally all the time but don’t appear in the office in casual wear. I also want to inform you that your working hours are 10-6 from Monday to Friday.”

“Okay.” He bites his lip and smiles at me. I give him a confused look because I have no idea what is going on.

“Alison, you got the job.”

“What. I- You barely asked me any questions that reflect my experience.”

“Its a job as a personal assistant. I don’t think it matters too much. Plus, after our hour of talking on the train, I think I know you a bit better and I feel comfortable working with you the most.”

“Wow, thank you, Harry. I mean-”

“Call me Harry.” He laughs.

Part 2

[starlingsrps]

poppy allen character development.

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME:  poppy lieke allen

NICKNAME(S): nope.

PREFERRED NAME(S): poppy

BIRTH DATE: october 25

AGE: twenty seven

GENDER: cis female

PRONOUNS: feminine

ROMANTIC/SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual

NATIONALITY: american

ETHNICITY: american-dutch

CURRENT LOCATION: los angeles, ca

LIVING CONDITIONS: neat and tidy, well decorated. she's definitely in laurel canyon, purposefully kind of a bitch to drive to.

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: santa barbara, ca

HOMETOWN: montecito, ca

PLACES LIVED: montecito, new york, london - wherever the hell she's filming tbh. los angeles is home.

SOCIAL CLASS: upper upper. when your eighteenth birthday is a people magazine cover, you don't pretend.

EDUCATION LEVEL: high school

FATHER: bryce hawthorne, 57, movie star

MOTHER: saskia werhoff, 52, model turned lifestyle guru

SIBLING(S): marieke allen, 25; matthias allen, 20

BIRTH ORDER: poppy, marieke, matthias

CHILDREN: absolutely no.

PET(S): nope; allergic to most things with fur.

OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: her mother's family in the netherlands, her father's in nebraska.

PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: legion and documented online.

ARRESTS?: nope.

PRISON TIME?: nope.

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: actress

SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: spokesperson

TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: trust fund

CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: like why wouldn't she be

PAST JOB(S): does she look like she's ever done intensive work?

SPENDING HABITS: poppy's version of reasonable is absolutely not the same as a normal persons. she thinks she's reasonable but that's just because she doesn't own a diamond encrusted birkin. she buys things that are high quality and doesn't really have experience with things that aren't.

MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: real estate portfolio. she owns her house and a condo in new york. both are points of pride for her.

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: B-

OFFENSE: B

DEFENSE: B

SPEED: B

INTELLIGENCE: B

ACCURACY: B+

AGILITY: B

STAMINA: B

TEAMWORK: C+

TALENTS: poppy has an incredible work ethic and sense of loyalty. she knows she's lucky to be where she is in life but she's going to show up the same as anyone else on set and give her best every time. she knows her self worth and she does not compromise on it one single bit.

SHORTCOMINGS: that can come off as.....abrasive.

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english and dutch

DRIVE?: yes

JUMP-STAR A CAR?: she was definitely taught by her father but it did not stick.

CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: see above.

RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes

SWIM?: yes

PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: no

PLAY CHESS?: no

BRAID HAIR?: yes

TIE A TIE?: yes

PICK A LOCK?: no.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: abigail cowen

EYE COLOR: blue

HAIR COLOR: red; boosted from strawberry blonde to red-red.

HAIR TYPE/STYLE: long and swishy. it's a signature at this point. that pantene hair deal did not just materialize on it's own.

GLASSES/CONTACTS?: both - a bitch is Nearsighted.

DOMINANT HAND: right

HEIGHT: 5'7

BUILD: willowy and toned, great ass.

EXERCISE HABITS: daily - she looks at it as part of her job description and between her father's biceps and her mother's devotion to yoga, she wasn't really raised with much of a choice but to use the gym.

SKIN TONE: fair, little freckled. a lot freckled if the sun has gotten to her.

TATTOOS: none

PEIRCINGS: ears

MARKS/SCARS: none

NOTABLE FEATURES: the Hair, upturned nose

USUAL EXPRESSION: attentive

CLOTHING STYLE: carefully curated. god i miss polyvore this would be so much easier. hold for pinterest board.

JEWELRY: whatever suits/is loaned for the occasion. she has a lot of small pieces that she owns for daily wear and a few really nice bits that she got from her parents as gifts.

ALLERGIES: dander, almonds.

DIET: nothing super weird/out of the ordinary, definitely erring on the trendy and consciously healthy end of things.

PHYSICAL AILMENTS: nah.

PSYCHOLOGY

ENNEAGRAM TYPE: type eight

MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic neutral

TEMPERAMENT: choleric

ELEMENT: water

SOCIABILITY: A - poppy is incredibly charming and social.

EMOTIONAL STABILITY: ehhhh i'll give her a B-. like she's not bad but when her temper gets triggered, hell will reign.

OBSESSION(S): nah

COMPULSION(S): nah

PHOBIA(S): failure

ADDICTION(S): nah

DRUG USE: she does smoke, she does know, she doesn't care.

ALCOHOL USE: social drinker.

PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: no (yet i think a certain someone might get something thrown at him)

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: even and cultivated. she has a pretty feminine voice and has done a little voiceover work.

ACCENT: nope.

QUIRKS: she squints a lot, even if she does have her glasses on or contacts in. this bitch is Blind.

HOBBIES: she does read a lot and she does enjoy trying new things. nothing crafty but she's pretty down for new activities.

HABITS: daily workout, twice weekly call with her Team, grooming, work. she likes to stay busy and likes to stay organized - her planner is sacred.

NERVOUS TICKS: don't fucking touch her planner.

DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: personal success. she was well known before she jumped into acting and modeling on her own by virtue of her parents but she absolutely wants to be her own person. she doesn't use her father's SAG name (legally, they're all allens rather than hawthorne but SAG), she doesn't do any mommy and me/daddy and me projects and she steers any interviews away from heavy talk about her family.

FEARS: personal failure. she knows she'll be okay no matter what - she's got the cushion of wealth and privilege - but she does not want to ever fail on her own merits.

POSITIVE TRAITS: loyal, generous, hard working, passionate, driven, fearless.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: bossy, stubborn, abrasive, no sense of limitations, single minded.

SENSE OF HUMOR: good! kind of dorky, prone to dragging the shit out of people.

DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: ehhhhh what is often

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: sex working, being alone. she spends so much time surrounded by people that being alone to relax is a luxury.

ANIMAL: she thinks dogs are awesome but she can't be around them without a shitload of benadryl so like, bears?

BEVERAGE: the iced coffee IS surgically attached to her hand, thanks!

BOOK:

CELEBRITY: her parents, corny as that is. least favorite is her brother, who's big on tiktok and habitually trying to use her pool for shenanigans.

COLOR: red

DESIGNER: she's a valentino bitch.

FOOD: a really, really good steak.

FLOWER: gardenias

GEM: pearls

HOLIDAY: christmas

MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: flying

MOVIE: father of the bride

MUSICAL ARTIST: kacey musgraves

SCENERY: the ocean. she's a coastal california girl and she does not like to be far from the water.

SCENT: ocean, gardenias, coffee.

SPORT: baseball

SPORTS TEAM: dodgers

TELEVISION SHOW: nothing specific but she will watch food network competition shows for hours.

WEATHER: bright and sunny

VACATION DESTINATION: exotic and warm.

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: having her career measured on its own merits; oscar. she doesn't not want a family and such outside of that but her career is her focus. she's in a good place and she doesn't want to put anything on pause.

GREATEST FEAR: poppy is alarmingly fearless. the only thing she truly fears is failing herself. nothing else really matters.

MOST AT EASE WHEN: with her family on the ranch in montecito to hang out and relax. she likes being around her sister - marieke is a classics student and has been bouncing about europe for the past seven years and they don't get to see each other very often. marieke is calm and completely removed from hollywood and she's basically the human equivelent of going to a spa.

LEAST AT EASE WHEN: not....no. poppy may be slightly uncomfortable but she is never going to let that show or acknowledge it.

WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: a scandal she can't recover from.

BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: her career, the first time she wasn't mentioned in conjuction with her parents in a magazine article in the first paragraph.

BIGGEST REGRET: nope.

MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: she's sure there have been but they're all pretty buried.

BIGGEST SECRET: keiran, 100%.

TOP PRIORITIES: her career. it's a thing she can control.

[shellyb04]

More Kdrama reviews

So I’m finally back with more kdrama reviews!

Reply 1988- Five friends and their families in one neighborhood in 1988. I can see why people really loved it, but for me, it had some pacing issues. I felt like some episodes dragged on unnecessarily. But the last episodes hit me in a really personal place so it gets a bump for that 8/10

To the Beautiful you- Girl pretends to be a boy and enrolls in all boy school to help her sports idol make a comeback. 6/10. Wish there was more time to after she left the school and more with the other students. It was okay but I wanted...more.

Jugglers-9/10 Secretary and boss romance. I really like this one. Yes, it is fairly predictable but the main leads chemistry is so enjoyable and I liked the secondary leads quite a lot. I did roll my eyes a lot with the "villains" of the show though.

Happy Once Again or One More Happy Ending- Mi Mo and her friends navigate life in their 30s. The four are in four different points on their life despite being the same age. 9/10 I really liked the friendship between the women and how they deal with things in their lives. Only real complaints are that I wish we had less of the doctor and his ex-wife and the weird Conan O'Brien cameo completely took me out of the show.

Protect the Boss-Immature boss with agoraphobia whipped into shape by his "punk" secretary. I love the supporting cast in this a lot as well as the main couple. Could have been shorter and been better though. But it did flip a few tropes in ways that I really liked. 8/10

The legend of the Blue Sea- A mermaid falls for a human in the Joseon era and in modern times. 9/10 I was really skeptical about this one at first. It was gorgeous but started kind of slow. But once I began to understand the plot, I was HOOKED. There were a few twists that kept me guessing. And the love story was great as were ALL of the supporting characters. The main guy is Lee Min Ho and I really like him. I just really loved this one. (Although I do have some questions during the ending)

King 2 Hearts- 10/10 South Korean prince meets North Korean Intelligence officer. Hate to Love, but then the King is assassinated and now there are even more political ramifications. I loved this show from start to finish as you watch the Prince grow into a man and work with his significant other to solve problems. The supporting cast is good. I really like all the characters especially the queen mother. The villain is a bit cringey, but smarter than I first thought. You definitely root for his punishment. The only slight detriment is one that most Korean dramas seem to share. Their English speaking actors are SO BAD. There's one in this that is pretty good, but the rest not so much.  Still I really loved this one and plan to revisit it.

I am not a robot- A man with a human allergy makes friends with a newly designed robot...who is actually a human. Cute story. I think the "antagonists" were totally unnecessary to the actual plot. There was a lot more to play with, but overall pretty cute. I felt like the main couple made sense and I loved that she was an inventor. 8/10

Healer- A thief for hire gets entangled with a reporter. 10/10. The mystery works for me, All of the relationships work for me. The romance is *chef's kiss.* The only teeny tiny nitpick is I would have loved a tiny bit more epilogue showing more of the characters new normal. But that is so minor. I just LOVED this one! Seriously, this one is just so good.  

Playful kiss- Korean Itazura kiss. 7/10 There were some things in this version that I really liked (Ha Ni not being nearly as clumsy comes to mind) But overall I definitely prefer Mischievous Kiss Love in Tokyo.

Extraordinary You- A girl realizes her life is a comic book...and she's only a supporting player. But a nameless background extra seems to hold the key to changing her fate.  9/10 I LOVED the concept, the parody of romance comics, and the main couple. Really I enjoyed all the characters in one way or another. The only real flaw was the last episode didn't give me enough.

She Was Pretty- Childhood friends and first loves are due to meet up, but girl has gotten "ugly" and has her best friend impersonate her. Then girl gets job where naturally, guy works. As cheesy as the set-up sounds, it is really good. Has a bit of an Ugly Betty vibe at first. 10/10 Both the men are absolutely lovely. The main woman is very real and I understood where she was coming from most of the time. Second love interest is wonderful (Si Won of Super Junior) and I fell in love with him. Also he is super easy on the eyes. The chemistry is there between everyone. The friendship between the two women is amazing! Just really good.

Oh my Ghostess- A virgin ghost possesses a woman's body because she needs to have sex to move on. The person she possesses is a shy timid girl with a crush on her boss.  Can the both get what they want? 8.5/10 I liked this one, but the beginning was difficult to get through and I felt some dubious consent vibes throughout as the main guy doesn't know about the ghost. And the woman doesn't know what happens while she's possessed. Ultimately, it all works out, but there's a bit of weirdness in the middle. The acting is pretty good and the side characters are okay, but the fortune-teller/shaman woman is hysterical.

Secret Garden- Rich CEO man and stunt woman switch bodies. 9/10 The only major complaint I have is some of the side stories. I hated the evil Mom and wished she and her sister had been more than moustache twirling villains. This one did get me near tears toward the end as well.

Five Enough-A widowed father of two meets a divorced mother of three. They fall in love and begin to meld into a new family. The drama also follows the widower's brother, sister, and sister-in-law as they find their own relationships. There is a subplot with the ex-husband and his new wife as well. 10/10 This is the first longer drama I watched at 54 episodes it was a lot to get through. The majority of the storylines were so well done and the reality of how to combine the family felt truthful. There were no real crazy plot twists, just a story about family. The only storyline I could've done without was the ex-husband and his new wife. I felt like they were rather unsympathetic no matter how much the drama tried to get me to care. The main couple and the sister's love story were my favorite. I originally started to watch for Sung Hoon, but was quickly drawn in by all the family.

[sharkfish]

ps i loved this one

(rereading bookmarks edition part 2)

(part 1)

i’ve been rereading stories from my bookmarks as a comfort thing. i’m getting real deep in there to stuff i haven’t (re)read for years, and damn do i have good taste. the ones i’ve read recently that you should, too:

(under the cut so i’m not that asshole that makes you scroll past an endless post)

Best Laid Plans by Persephoneshadow

Things are going well for Dean: he's landed the biggest design job of his architectural career and is about to get final approval on the project despite how difficult the development company, personified by Castiel Novak, has made it. It's not bad for a moody omega...except things are also going terribly for Dean because he has to get in a plane and fly to a meeting, and course ends up in heat a few hours before. Luckily, Castiel is there to help and both men discover the good that can come when nothing goes quite as intended.

i don’t know why i’m such a ho for stories where dean thinks cas hates him, but cas secretly adores him and is just a little “rusty” on his “people skills.” i’m also a ho for stories where dean is a gd skilled genius but his dumb ass still thinks his work sucks and/or anything good is due to other people instead of himself. and also, heat boning. 

Confessions of a Cam Boy by MsCaptainWinchester (rons_pigwidgeon)

Dean runs a cam show to pay his way through marketing school, but he's about to start an internship that he doesn't know will change his life. Watching Dean's show is Castiel's favorite way to wind down after a stressful day at Sandover Bridge & Iron. When Cas comes to work one day and finds his favorite cam boy setting coffee on his desk, he is completely thrown. Will Dean finish his internship without knowing his favorite viewer is his new boss, or will he be able to see through Cas' non-existent poker face and figure it out?

omg poor cas is soooo awkward and dean is weirded out about how much his new boss seems to dislike him and then it’s super sexy >:) 

For Science by shiphitsthefan

“Think of it like an experiment," says Dean. "You’re testing a hypothesis as to whether or not a desirable response can be achieved through the stimulation of the anus via the application of a willing volunteer’s muscular hydrostat.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “Are you actually trying to use the scientific method to talk me into letting you lick my asshole?”

everyone is such adorable nerds in this one. it’s a fic about rimming, but it’s also about love and discovering yourself and acceptance. it explores cas’s realization through his connection with dean that he’s not straight up ace but more grey/demi - and that doesn’t mean he was “faking” being ace up until he met dean. 

Friends with Benefits with Tentacles by andimeantittosting (Saylee)

Dean's never been embarrassed about his porn collection before, but that was before he found Cas holding his prized copy of Sweet Princess Asuka and the Tentacles of Pleasure. Dean finds himself sweating bullets—because this is Cas, sweet, nerdy Cas. Cas, his friend. Cas, his roommate. Cas, his—only slightly out-of-control—crush.

Cas, with his big, blue eyes and muscular arms and perpetual sex hair.

Cas, with his tentacles.

The last thing he expects is for Cas to suggest they experiment together.

there are not enough tentacle fics out there and i 100000% approve of this addition to the tag. i love that dean is out there legitimately studying porn, and the tentacles are obviously super fun, and there were parts where my heart hurt so bad, all around a damn fine fic. 

Grown-Ups Making Grown-Up Choices by Carrieosity

Dean is a grown-ass man - he can take perfectly good care of himself, thank you very much. Except that sometimes the easier or more fun choices aren't always the right or best ones, and, all right, maybe thinking ahead and working the long game isn't his strongest suit. It's fine! He's fine.

When he meets Castiel, he realizes that flying by the seat of his pants may not be the best way to attract the super-serious (gorgeous, funny, genius) Alpha. Dean's shrink has been telling him he needs to start making "grown-up choices," and if that's what he has to think about in order to make Cas fall for him, then he'll give it a whirl.

i LOVE this fic (series). i feel so hard for dean feeling like he’s too old for his life to still be a mess, but i also felt sad for him that he thought he had to make all these hardcore changes - basically turn himself into a different person - to be worthy of cas’s attentions. i fucking adore cas in this, and i nearly cried just thinking about all the damn peppers they eat, and i want to read it again right now. 

If I Run by Anonymous

"Dean Winchester is a red-blooded American male. He lifts all the things. He aims for functional strength. He counts his macros and makes fun of curlbros. He is not a member of the Tarahumara tribe and he will not read Born to Run, no matter how many times Sam tells him to, because Starting Strength is the only book Dean will ever fucking need."

***

Wherein a friendly competition with the mysterious ThursdaysAngel turns into a sexy selfie-trading spree that motivates Dean Winchester to train for his first marathon.

i really really love this fic and reread it pretty often tbh. it only became “anonymous” pretty recently and i’m so curious about why!! regardless, this fic is a really great time!!! 

It's Always More Than Once (Before It Takes) by squeemonster

The first time it happens, it's because of boredom. Or, at least that's what Dean tells himself to justify it. Boredom and Dean Winchester are a dangerous combination, especially when you factor in beer, a raging libido, and laziness.

dean: my dudes, is it gay to do sexy stuff with your male bff? cuz i’m totally straight. but also, having sex with my male bff. 

I Wanna Get Outside (Of Me) by emwebb17

Dean is a novice in the dom/sub world asked by his employer as a desperate last resort to be a sub for his recluse of a brother, Castiel. Castiel is a diagnosed OCD suffering from PTSD and agoraphobia, mysophobia, and dystychiphobia. Needless to say—he’s a mess who hasn’t stepped out of his home in literally seven years. The only times Gabriel can see traces of the way his brother used to be is when he feels in control—specifically when he has control over a sub. However, due to his idiosyncrasies and paranoia, keeping a sub around has been impossible. Enter Dean, who’s not a very traditional submissive, to try his hand at subbing for the hermit.

you know how sometimes you read a fic, and it takes ages to get yourself out of that world? even though you’re finished, you’re still right there with him? this is one of those fics. i reread it a couple weeks ago and fell asleep thinking about it last night. i cry a lot reading this one. 

Living in Agony by ChasingRabbits

Dean Winchester's life is... well, it's not great. He's a gym teacher, he's in his thirties, and he can't seem to keep any part of his life straight. When the aftermath of a one-night stand goes awry, Dean is dragged kicking and screaming out of his cozy little closet and into the harsh light of reality.

Enter: Castiel Novak, the new history teacher, who knows full well that life gets crappy when you don't allow yourself to live it in the way it needs to be lived.

there aren’t a lot of stories that deal with themes of mental illness, and a lot of them read like an episode of degrassi where everything wraps up in 30min to never be discussed again. this story is honest in that there’s no easy out. there’s medication and therapy and supportive people, but that’s not always enough. it’s a story about how you don’t have to be mentally ill to be fucked up, and while people can’t fix each other, they can help each other. content note: references to a pre-story suicide attempt. 

Oddly Shaped Empty by jemariel

Dean grew up thinking -- knowing -- he'd be an alpha.

Until he failed to present. As a beta, he has no mating cycle, no noticeable pheromones, none of the physical markers that are so important in a world of alphas and omegas. He's out of place. How is he supposed to navigate his relationships and find love when he doesn't fit into the neatly-defined boxes he's used to?

By the time he meets his new roommate, Castiel, he's more or less given up on finding a mate. He wears his secondary gender like a chip on his shoulder. But you never know what the future holds, who will come into your life, and how they might change it forever.....

Queer themes, finding identity, reconciling the past, and a whole lot of smut.

y’all know @jemariel is a gd genius, but i’m particularly obsessed with their fics that use abo to explore queer identify & experiences. i hold my breath reading most of this fic and also cry. 

Steal my Breath by Sincestiel

“Tighter, Dean, please,” Cas urges throwing his head back to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Dean squeezes. He doesn’t know why Cas wants this or even what the appeal is, but he always comes harder when he’s struggling to breathe.

what’s on the tin. a quick lil breathplay fic that is thoroughly enjoyable. 

Unsolicited by Dangerousnotbroken

In which Dean Winchester gets an unsolicited dick pic from an unknown sender which is both totally not disappointing in that it's a really nice dick pic, and incredibly disappointing in that it's clearly a downloaded picture of his favorite porn star.

There's absolutely no way it's actually this porn star sending it to him, right?

Right?

this is a destiel classic and i feel like anyone who isn’t new here has probably read it. but here’s your reminder that this is a great fic and you should (re)read it. 

Wordplay by Dangerousnotbroken @dangerousnotbroken​

“I don’t understand why talking dirty is such a big deal for you humans,” Cas complains, apropos of nothing.

it’s a “cas learning about sex” and also dirty talk, which are both things i’m really into!! and DNB is a genius so that’s even better. 

if you enjoy these fics (and you should), please give the writer some love via kudos and/or comments. <3

ps - as always, if i didn’t tag the writer and you know their tumblr, please tag in the comments. i don’t think there’s a writer alive who wouldn’t be happy to be on a rec list. :)

[kekekentyuh]

LIFE NUGGET: Don’t Miss Out On The Little Things

Another ugly but necessary note: I've always wanted to post about the simple things I learn whenever I achieve a milestone in my life, because I feel like we could all pick something up from every experience we get. In an effort to do so, I decided to make LIFE NUGGETS, which will be a series of life lessons (or nuggets, if you please) that we can pick up and apply to our day to day lives! This is so we can utilize all of our days as chances to learn and grow in improvement! I hope you give this much love! Thank you!

I recently turned twenty last July and, to keep it simple, I’ve never minded my age more so in the life I’ve lived so far than then. And it wasn’t even intentional. Turning a year older, for some, isn’t that big of a deal; in fact, for a lot of us, our birthdays are the special days of the year we get to feel more special about ourselves and celebrate the years we’ve accumulated as we know them, like it truly is for me. But, apart from that, our birthdays are also an intimate and personal time to look back and reflect on how your journey has been so far navigating this world as a small speck of a human being like everybody else, and then, if you’re anything like me, let the realization that you’ve been alive for two decades now, and that you’ve already wasted that much time being an idiot in this world, hit you like a bus.

And I realized, up to the darkest crevices of my soul, that I wasn’t a teenager anymore. I was an adult, of mature (sort of) age, and it was so weird, because I’d been used to the fact that I was still in my teens for quite some time waiting for my life to start that the minute my age said otherwise, it was seriously disorienting.  

That’s the funniest thing about life and our general, insanely human concept of time: they’re nothing more than a whimsy breeze that prances by so quickly that the moment it all ends stands out so much more to you than when it actually was there. Now that I’m in college, where nothing almost ever stays constant, whether it be the schedules I attend for my classes or the faces I see on campus, I’m finding out that life for a budding adult (especially a budding adult that strives to be academically competent in their tertiary education) is a cycle of keeping one’s head above water, a repetitive scheme of waking up, eating, studying, and going to sleep in various patterns throughout the weeks. And if I hadn’t realized it sooner, I wouldn’t have known that this was consuming my attention for more than I had bargained for, and I was actually caught up in the waiting game that is expecting when to expect my life to actually begin, whatever that truly meant. It hit me quite hard that I had spent the eight years I was a teenager, in the words of Trixie Mattel, queen of quotations, waiting for the life I wanted to begin in my teen years, so I could celebrate it with balloons and cake and maybe a small pint of booze as it came, but now that I’ve just entered my twenties in glorious quarantine, I think I may have missed it. And if I didn’t stop to think about how old I was getting, I would have realized all of this by the time I was thirty, after I’d thrown my roaring twenties away.

Life is a whirlwind of amazing things that move so fast, one after the other, that if you don’t stop to look, you just might miss your chance at enjoying the life you’ve always wanted.

At our age, we’re all caught up in what we all want to achieve in the future, simply because we want a better life for ourselves and the people we truly care about. And I understand; I have pretty much the same goals, like many of you, and working towards those goals, especially given the fierce circumstances in today’s modern day and age, isn’t necessarily easy. Pre-med students like me have to work hard to prove ourselves worthy of even entering the med school of our dreams through our grades and scholastic records, and the work only starts when we do get in. And I’m pretty sure, no matter what career path we strive to take one day, we all have the same current, troubling struggles, because we want to be the best we can be in the line of profession we have chosen, and our college education will open the doors for us that will lead us to the way we have yearned, the ways we know we’ll do better and keep improving. It may not matter now, but it will soon enough, which is why we have to keep pushing ourselves to do our best. This is a mantra that I’m pretty sure a lot of us are familiar with, because it applies to almost every aspect of our lives, especially in the lives in the future we wish to establish for ourselves.

But in the process of working towards these goals, we sometimes voluntarily forget about something much more valuable than the future ⁠— the present. Much of the colors of life happen in the now, and your life will never stay the same way as it was in the very moment you’re in right now, so it’s all the more regretful when you move on and they all become things of the past, things that you never even experienced in your lifetime. 

Now, I’m not suggesting that you let go of the goals that will define your future, if that’s what you’re thinking; these types of goals are the most major thing in our lives, the cornucopia we’re all working towards that keeps our lives in balance and keeps our work in check. Achieving our main goals keep the lines of our lives moving forward, allowing us to set our priorities straight enough that we can work towards a set goal. But that doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to step out of that line every now and then. One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned recently, one that my lolo has taught me, is to never be afraid of living in the now, because life is shorter than how we all think it is, and it only gets shorter if we don’t take the time to stop and live a little. Sure, we have things to take care of that may or may not define how we are in the future, but then again, nothing is ever certain, and you still have the power in your own hands to change how everything is going to turn out. Life isn’t always about the bigger picture — sometimes it’s about the little things that make it more worth living, the small things that keep you smiling that you never even expected would come your way, but you ought to keep forever. And that, in my opinion, will be a bigger loss when we do start working again to working towards our usual goals, because it’ll be a missed chance by the time we do look back from where we would be by then, and it’ll slowly shift into nothing but a regret.

And the last thing we want is to regret our way into those goals, now wouldn’t we?

Take it from me: nothing is wrong with letting go every once in a while. Whether you’re in college, still waiting for the best time to break out of your shell, or starting at a university and still quite new to the whole setup, still testing the waters and estimating your moves, or maybe still in secondary school trying to figure out who you’re going to be a few good years from now, let me tell you something: live your best life while you still have time. I know I’m a little too young to technically be giving you advice like this, and I’m not even halfway through college to be well-equipped enough to say this at all, but trust me, I know how it feels to miss a chance or opportunity to have fun or cool down. At this age, we can't afford to waste our time, because it comes and goes so quickly and at most times we don't even get the chance to grasp it before it zooms away. Never take your time for granted, do the things and go to places you know you’ll never go to again and attend things that are once in a lifetime. Take this as a sign to finally take a break from all the constant work that can be almost too jarring and discover yourself outside of academics, let loose and do the the things you’ve always planned on doing while you still have time. Join that club or organization. Learn that song or that particular dance choreography you’ve always yearned to know. Audition for that play. Read that book or go to that party.  Let loose for the time being and get yourself an ice cream without ever thinking that it’s a distraction.

And something just as important would be to take the time to do things that you’ve always wanted to do with the people that you love. Check up on your families, and have a nice, relaxing meal with them. Go out with your friends to a fast-food joint or treat yourselves to a karaoke night on some Fridays, and maybe have a drink or two every once in a while. I can list a hundred thousand more things for you to do, and it’ll all be worth trying, because all of them will help you discover the part of yourself outside of your work, and time spent discovering yourself is nothing more than time well-spent. We should never worry about our time running out, but instead, figure out when the right time would be to take that first step, because we don’t get chances at everything in life, and a missed opportunity in time will be lost forever. 

Ask yourself, "If you’re not going to do it now, when? And if so, will there be another shot at it in the future?"

There’s so much to life than what we know of it. But a lot of the time we don’t see how much more worth it it is to live our best lives because we’re all too afraid of making mistakes and how these mistakes will affect us and our own goals, hence branding taking to the sidelines and sitting everything out as the safer option. Mistakes are just regrets waiting to happen, and that’s solely why we should never leave room for any errors. But I think that’s wrong on so many levels, because not only are mistakes the bumps along the road that help us learn what it means to grow, they’re also all part of the plan. You don’t learn how to ride a bike by mounting on it like a pro the first time and zooming on it easily like a champ, riding for miles and miles at a time. You don’t improve your dancing by sitting every performance out and watching from out back. And you most certainly do not learn how to swim without conquering your fear of drowning. 

Mistakes are not meant to be regretted, but instead, are meant to be hounding sources of growth and improvement.

The negative repercussions or a decision play a big part in our decisions, and for sure, a higher chance of a setback just equates to a greater amount of fear that causes us to step back. We don’t fear the decisions themselves, fear the bad things that may happen when we take our first steps in things, and base our previous experiences on how it may all end up in our heads. But to be able to take a chance for yourself, for a thing that you know in your own will be so much more worth it when it comes your way, you must be willing to take risks. Life is nothing less than risks waiting to be taken, because if you’re willing to take a leap of faith to see what you want to see, or do what you want to do, there’s no stopping you from doing anything, and there’s no telling how far you’ll be able to go. Grab every chance you can by learning to take risks and letting go of the fear that comes with it. Give it a try, find your way, and make tons of mistakes, then learn a lesson from all of them. 

And most importantly, never regret anything, and never look back. 

You don’t live the highway that is life by sitting by your own in a park bench by the side of the road as everything runs by in front of you; you mount your own vehicle and find your own way, go as fast as you’d like, and reach as many destinations as you’d want. Don’t wait for some kind of sign from the heavens that ensures you that it’s just now okay to start doing the things you know in yourself that you were meant to do, but instead, start finding your way as early as you can. Don’t wait for someone else to write your own life for you — make it happen for yourself. Because trust me, the biggest regret you may ever have is to have what probably would have been the best thing to ever have happened to you happen in front of your very eyes while they were glued in front of a textbook. 

And in this house, we don’t do regrets, and we live life the best way we possibly can.

It feels so nice to be back writing! How has everyone been? I apologize for posting a day late, it's so hot to work during the day that I end up working at night! And what are your biggest fears and qualms about life? Let me know by reaching me through the Inquiries page, or through my social media here I'd love to hear from anybody!

And, as usual, I wish everyone utter safety and security and good health! I hope everyone is taking care of themselves by santiizing and garnering a healthy lifestyle! It means a lot to me that you're here reading. Thanks for staying, and I’ll see you on the next one!

[neuxue]

Do you have any recommendations for fantasy reads that are dark but not all the way grimdark? You seem like someone who would have suggestions!

I do indeed! That’s a broad category so I’ve put together a list that should span at least something of a range of different types of ‘dark’. I’m not including comprehensive content warnings, because given the nature of this list it would take all day, but feel free to ask if you want more detailed warnings for any of these.

I’m also only including books I’ve read (I have lots on my to-read list that supposedly fit the dark-but-not-grimdark description), so anyone else should feel free to add your suggestions (I say somewhat selfishly, as this is a genre I am also always in the market for recommendations for).

In alphabetical order:

Baru Cormorant (The Traitor Baru Cormorant, The Monster Baru Cormorant; more to come) by Seth Dickinson. There are books that are dark because of the world they’re set in; there are books that are dark because of the things that happen to the characters…and then there are books that are dark because they focus on the darkness within those characters. This is one of those; Baru Cormorant is savagely intelligent and competent, single-minded in her goals but wide-ranging and creative in her ways of accomplishing them, and will not hesitate to set fire to everything, including herself, to see her ends achieved. The books are a sort of…loving deconstruction not of a villain but of an entire set of traits that are usually ascribed to villainy, in a way that holds nothing back and exposes the sharp edges to show both the bloody ruin and the beauty they make. It’s also a rare chance to see a female character cast in this particular archetype. Book 2 is…darker but also really fucking weird. You’ve been warned.

Daughter of Smoke and Bone (Daughter of Smoke and Bone, Days of Blood and Starlight, Dreams of Gods and Monsters) by Laini Taylor. These fall into the category of ‘aesthetically dark’, and lean more towards the YA/romance (with a healthy side of celestial war), but the world is pretty and magic is pain, so there’s that.

Doctrine of Labyrinths (Mélusine, The Virtu, The Mirador, Corambis) by Sarah Monette. Three books hurt, one book comfort. Very very dark, in the way that fantasy of this time period often is, but done…well, I’m not going to say tastefully, because that would imply that Monette shies away from literally anything at all, which she very much does not, but done in a way that doesn’t shy from consequences either. More character-driven than plot-driven, but the characters include a character who is very much My Type (as well as being pretty much the textbook definition of 'disaster gay’), if that tells you anything, and the relationship between the two protagonist brothers, as it unfolds, is messy and complicated and beautiful.

Gentleman Bastard Sequence (The Lies of Locke Lamora, Red Seas under Red Skies, The Republic of Thieves; more books to come) by Scott Lynch. Dark with a huge side of sarcastic humour. And heists. Lots of heists. Locke is an absolute disaster of a protagonist (really just an absolute disaster full stop), and watching him is like watching a train wreck that turns out to be a Rube Goldberg machine. These probably lean a little closer to grimdark than some of the others on this list (characters die; you’ve been warned), but I think they still ultimately toe the line.

His Dark Materials (The Golden Compass/Northern Lights, The Subtle Knife, The Amber Spyglass) by Philip Pullman. So technically these are children’s books, but I’d argue they definitely deserve to be described as 'dark’, if in a different way than some of the others on this list. Probably not for you if you’re offended by blasphemy against Christianity (in the words of a friend, these are 'Pullman’s extended callout of the Catholic church’), but if that doesn’t bother you these are probably the first on my list of Formative Fantasy Influences and I love them to pieces. Contains a rather excellent dark Power Couple that, in retrospect, probably defined a lot of what would become My Type in fictional characters. Also gay angels.

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by N.K. Jemisin. Another one that is probably best described as 'aesthetically dark’. Really interesting setting and characters; if you like dysfunctional families and hot chained gods, this book is for you. It’s the first of a series, but the only one I’ve read so far so I can’t vouch for the others. That said, it reads well as a standalone so you can try it and see if you want more.

Kushiel (Kushiel’s Dart, Kushiel’s Chosen, Kushiel’s Avatar) - Jacqueline Carey. Politics a la Game of Thrones, but told from the perspective of a courtesan, in a world where the whores have voices and agency. Beautiful prose, lots of sex (including the associated content warnings, but focused largely on the power dynamics rather than the sex itself), and political intrigue set in a secondary-world variant of Europe (with forays further afield). Tends to divide opinion: if it’s your thing it’s very much your thing, and if it’s not you’ll probably hate it.

Machineries of Empire (Ninefox Gambit, Raven Stratagem, Revenant Gun) - Yoon Ha Lee. In theory this is scifi rather than fantasy, but it’s heavily fantasy-leaning scifi, so it counts. Very definitely dark, to the point of reading like idfic in the best way possible. Every single content warning you could possibly think of probably applies at some point, in some way. It’s a lot, and I love every single weird, fucked-up thing it chooses to be. There are also some excellent characters spanning the full range of My Type, which, given usually I get one or maybe two of those in any given book/series, is a fucking treat. All kinds of pain, exploration of identity and agency, politics and game theory…something for everyone, is what I’m saying (though also very much not a series I’d recommend to everyone).

Realm of the Elderlings by Robin Hobb (too many to list, but you can find a suggested reading order here). I tend to think of Robin Hobb’s books as not so much 'dark’ as 'heavy’, and it depends on which sub-series you’re reading, but I’m throwing them on this list because Robin Hobb is another one of those authors who doesn’t shy away from things. She doesn’t skim the surface of torturing her characters, or subjecting them to consequences, or allowing everything and its dragon mother to go to absolute shit; no, she doubles down and commits. Which sometimes is exactly what you want, as a reader, and sometimes means it’s time to take a break and go get a cup of tea. Her books definitely aren’t for everyone, but I love what she’s done with the world she builds, and the way it starts out feeling like Just Another Fantasy Setting until it’s too late, you’re invested now, and when the tables start turning there’s nothing you can do but hold on for the ride. Also, really fucking awesome dragons.

A Resurrection of Magic (Skin Hunger, Sacred Scars, incomplete) by Kathleen Duey. I hesitate to put this on the list because it’s an incomplete series and likely to stay that way, but it’s interesting and has a specific…flavour to its darkness that I very much enjoy. The story is told alternating between two narrators and timelines, one in which magic has been banned and largely erased from the world and one in which it has been brought back in a tightly controlled school where mere survival is a high mark of success.

Sunshine by Robin McKinley. Urban fantasy that is its own coffeeshop AU, in a way that is almost but not quite entirely unlike everything that description would evoke. Dark and arguably quite gritty, but with balancing moments of absolute beauty, an impressively rich urban-magic world, and a unique narrative voice. Leaves an astonishing number of loose ends and unanswered questions for a standalone novel; some love that and some hate it.

Vicious by V.E. Schwab. Friends-to-enemies with superpowers, written by an author who clearly loves villains and villainy and explorations thereof. Weirdly a little lighter in some ways than others on this list, but definitely enjoyable. Has a sequel (Vengeful) which I’ve yet to read. Her Darker Shade of Magic series is also worth a read; the plots are simple but the characters are interesting, and again there’s some loving attention paid to all the different variations of the darkness within.

Wind on Fire (The Wind Singer, Slaves of the Mastery, Firesong) - William Nicholson. This is another series that is ostensibly for younger readers (the first book is probably best described as 'children’s horror’), but one of those where you look back a decade or so later and think 'oh, okay, that was uh…darker than I realised at the time’. I should caveat that I haven’t re-read these books since first reading them around age 10 or 12, so take this recommendation with a grain of salt.

[cry3tearslikej3t]

I was tagged by @waiting-for-you-babes to answer these questions so here we go!

1. Do you make your bed?

As often as I can remember to or have the energy to do that

2. What is your favourite number?

Um 7 always comes to mind but I can't really say why

3. If you could go back to school, would you?

Well I'm currently still in my first year at university but if I could go back to college or Secondary school? No, I enjoyed the social and fun times with my friends and the not having to be independent so much but the actual education was just awful, hardly any fun memories there.

4. Can you parallel park?

I haven't started to learn how to drive so no.

5. A job you had that would surprise people?

I haven't actually had a proper job yet but I did volunteer a few times at the park theatre near my college for my CV. That was pretty fun and it was nice to watch the shows they put on.

6. Do you believe in aliens?

Well obviously, you'd have to be pretty ignorant to believe that we are the only life in the whole universe. I think its just the very word "aliens" that scares people from saying yes because our culture has just associated the weird with comedy almost and crazy conspiracy theorists.

7. Can you drive manual?

Again, I don't know how to drive so no.

8. What's a guilty pleasure of yours?

I don't really think I have a guilty pleasure or if I ever did, I've kinda grown out of feeling guilty for enjoying something so I don't have any that I can think of.

9. Tattoos?

Yes! I have one (so far) of the tree of Gondor from The Lord of the Rings on the top of my left arm! I like it a lot, even if I often forget about it. I do plan to get a million more but its just deciding what I want next and setting a time and place.

10. What's your favourite colour?

Green! It's pretty much always been my favourite colour and probably because it's so nice and reminds me of nature and all that.

11. What's your favourite type of music?

I listen to a variety but the main dominating genre in my collection is probably rock and alternative stuff.

12. Things that people do that drive you crazy?

Lying, cheating (in any sense, relationships or anything really, I can't stand it), littering and probably a great many more things that could come to mind if I sat and thought and had the time.

13. Do you like doing puzzles?

I used to do jigsaw puzzles a lot when I was child, we used to the have this box of Disney princess ones that I loved to bits! I haven't done once since my childhood but I think I'd enjoy doing them again if I had the space.

14. Do you have any phobias?

That's a strong word so I'm not sure really, maybe drowning since I've had a couple experiences as a child that could probably explain it.

15. Do you talk to yourself?

Out loud? No. I do what pretty much everyone does, talk in my head.

16. Childhood sports you liked?

I didn't and still don't really do sports. Though when I was pretty young I used to play football because all my friends wanted me to do it with them but I quit a month or so in because I didn't really enjoy it or coming home late.

17. What movie do you adore?

As a film student I don't know if it's even possible to have just one because I love so many, all for different reasons. But a few that come to mind would be Lord of the Rings, war films in general, Star Trek, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (such a beautiful film that I don't watch enough!) and I could go on really.

Now if I was asked about my favourite TV show or anime, that would be much easier since I know my favourite anime and then TV shows are things I rarely watch because my attention span is the worst.

Coffee or tea?

Simple, neither.

First thing you wanted to be when you grew up?

I think it was fire fighter because I wanted to sit on a fire engine with a dalmatian like in children's books and shows and stuff.

And that's it! I tag @asparagus-is-in-season and @starryeyedinput if they want to do it but don't have to.

Thank you for tagging me @waiting-for-you-babes !

[under-the-lake]

I Suspect Nargles Are Behind It: Luna and Reality - short mind ramblings

I thought that some lighter writing than my usual stuff could be nice during these troubled captivity times. So I wondered and then set my mind on writing about a character, and chose Luna. Why Luna? I just love her. She’s clever but not vain, she’s a proper oddball to whom I can identify, she loves animals and understands the weird. She lives in a strange world of her own, oddly connected with reality, and has values I can share. On a more literature-related point of view, she’s a secondary character but without her the story couldn’t have unfolded as it did. In a very short piece (to my standards at least) I decided to explore Luna’s take on the reality norms the world has built.

Short ID

Name: Luna Lovegood (originally she was called Lily Moon, because it gave Rowling the idea of a dreamy girl - Original Writings for PM, The Original Forty)

Born: 13th February (J.K. Rowling, Twitter, 17th July 2015) and we can suppose it’s 1981 because Luna went to Hogwarts one year after Harry (born on 31st July 1980).

Post-Hogwarts Occupation: Wizarding naturalist (as Rowling called her originally)

Particularities: odd beliefs, and she was able to see Thestrals very soon after her mother’s accidental death, when Luna was nine. Unusually perceptive and creative. Bloody bright.

School: Hogwarts, Ravenclaw

Marital Status: Married to Rolf Scamander (Newt’s grandson)

Children: 2 sons, Lorcan and Lysander

Other Family: Dad Xenophilius Lovegood (Editor of the Quibbler), mum Pandora Lovegood (dead)

Odd Species: Blibbering Humdinger, Nargles, Wrackspurts, Crumple-Horned Snorkack. According to Rowling (Bloomsbury Chat, 30.7.2007), Luna went on discovering and naming many new species, but had to eventually give up on the Snorkack being a real creature.

First Impressions - Hogwarts: from Loony to Luna

She had straggly, waist-length dirty blonde hair, very pale eyebrows and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. [...]The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of Butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Chapter Ten, Luna Lovegood

That’s how we are introduced to Luna (in the book). Well… dunno what you think, but she is introduced as a weirdo all right. She’s reading a magazine, The Quibbler, upside down, and that she seems to find that perfectly normal (we do learn some pages later that it’s a thing about reading runes but even if there wasn’t any rational explanation I wouldn’t put it past Luna to read something upside down). You cannot deny that Luna is intriguing. There are many reactions one can have on meeting her for the first time, but there will be reactions, either because she’s so far from what the reader holds dear as values, or because she’s so close. One cannot be indifferent to Luna.

Besides, there’s that strange thing that she can see Thestrals, and thinks they are nothing but normal creatures. Who doesn’t remember the ‘You’re just sane as I am’ line? And who wouldn’t doubt their sanity at such a statement? I’m glad they kept the line in the film.

So from the very beginning of our acquaintance with Luna, we know that she’s different, but not yet why, that she is blunt without being rude, that she knows who she is, and that she has some sort of interest in the natural world. We can also imagine from her Butterbeer necklace that she’s not from a wealthy family, her dad running a not-so-mainstream magazine, The Quibbler. We have another bit of evidence for that in the World Cup (see below). The other possibility -which, knowing all the books, sounds at least as true as the first one- is that she’s from a very creative family. However, at that point of the story, we don’t know about Nargles and Crumple-Horned Snorckacks. Yet. As for Luna’s Hogwarts allegiance, Wit Beyond Measure is Man’s Greatest Treasure, and The Circle Has No Beginning,  she’s in Ginny’s year, one year below Harry, and she’s a Ravenclaw.

First Mention

Luna is not mentioned by first name until Ginny introduces her in Order of the Phoenix, Chapter Ten. However, Rowling introduces the Lovegoods in Goblet of Fire, Chapter Six. They are just mentioned, en passant, by Amos Diggory, while he and Cedric and the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione are waiting for their Portkey on Stoatshead Hill (seven past five, and old wellington boot) to get them to the Quidditch World Cup. Amos says the Lovegoods aren’t using the Portkey because they’ve been on the World Cup Site for a week since they couldn’t afford it another way. They live near the Weasleys, the Diggorys and the Fawcetts, somewhere near Ottery St Catchpole (Deathly Hallows, Chapter Twenty).

First Meeting

‘There’s only Loony Lovegood in there.’ This statement by Ginny is the first mention of Luna in the whole series. She’s met Neville who is looking for a compartment on the Hogwarts Express and can’t find one because ‘everywhere’s full’. ‘Don’t be silly, she’s all right’, answers Ginny. (OoP, Chapter Ten).

Straight in: ‘Loony’ is ‘all right’. Contradiction, but also completely true. Luna is a loony if you look at her with the eyes of conventional society and the norms it has set. She is all right, which means Ginny has taken trouble to get acquainted and knows she’s no loony, and at least never uses her ‘nickname’ straight in her face (contrary to Hermione’s line in the film…. which I hate, so much not in character. Is that the girl who started SPEW?). Ginny puts things straight from the beginning, yet she’s struggling to repress her fit of the giggles in the compartment, later, when Luna states Ravenclaw’s motto in a sing-song voice. Luna doesn’t seem to care what people think, and she’s pretty straightforward in her statements, though not in a mean way. For instance, when she tells Harry, still in the same scene in the Hogwarts Express compartment, that Parvati didn’t enjoy the Yule Ball with him because he hadn’t cared to dance with her, it’s just a statement, not a judgement. Luna doesn’t do judgement. I must admit that the feelings, at reading this train scene for the first time, are mixed. You perceive that Luna is someone special who is rather unbothered by others’ opinion because she knows herself and is in a way more mature than her fellow classmates. You basically wonder if she’s got some autistic traits. On the other hand, the series of articles in the magazine she’s reading - and obviously taking seriously - show an openness of mind and fantasy that are quite unusual. How Far Would Fudge Go to Gain Gringotts? or Sirius Black - Villain or Victim? Notorious Mass Murderer or Innocent Singing Sensation? are just two of the titles in the issue of The Quibbler that Luna is reading (see picture below). 

The first impressions are tested further because once the lot get off the train, there’s the Thestrals. Harry has never been able to see them before, because he had never understood death before seeing Cedric murdered during the Third Task. He’s completely stunned by those skeletal winged horses. Luna isn’t, and simply explains they’ve always been there. Not at all reassured and still thinking he’s having hallucinations, Harry climbs up behind Luna into the carriage, not sure if he wants to disclose this to his best mates.

This is the first meeting with Luna. You cannot deny the impression is strong. Personally I did like her from the start. She then just grew on me.

Reality? Berkeley? Aristotle? 

Believing in things that nobody can see… mental, Luna? Or just aware of the world in a way few modern people are able to? Just more open to nature and unusually perceptive or living on another planet? I reckon anything but mental. Luna is a character who questions our perception and definition of reality throughout the three books she appears in.

Traditionally, if we follow Aristotle (On Interpretation), a statement can be true if both the sentence and the reality it aims at describing match. There must be no contradiction and the statement must be in adequation with reality. Like saying, while standing in front of the Hogwarts Express, ‘the steam engine is scarlet’. It’s the, say, rational way. And it is the way it works in the wizarding world, yet the roots are different from the Muggle one. Magic is the scientific framework in which the wizarding world evolves, and in that world magic is a science in the Muggle sense: it can be studied, divided into subjects, tested (Nadal, 2014).

However, on the other end of the spectrum, there’s another way of seeing things that are less black or white, and it was explained by Irish philosopher George Berkeley (1685 - 1753). Berkeley, to put it shortly, states that what one sees is, from the moment it’s apprehended by anything connected with the brain, an interpretation of reality. He says that reality per se doesn’t exist and that the things we see, as a dimension of reality conceived out of the mind, is a mere illusion (Chaillan, 2016; Granger & Bassham, 2016). Seen in that light, Harry’s meeting with Dumbledore at the end of Deathly Hallows is full of sense. So is Luna’s relationship with the world around her. The case of Nargles, Wrackspurts and Crumple-Horned Snorckacks are proof enough. Luna questions our relationship with the norms the world has built around what is considered real and what is not. Can you believe something exists while you’ve never seen it? Well… just ask everyone who believes in any kind of god, magic or whatever. They’ve never seen the source, have they. Still, they do believe it exists. The difference with Luna is that while religion is something built by, and therefore admitted as real, by society (the norm, or one of the possible norms), Nargles and Wrackspurts are not. 

If we look at the zoological side of things, the Muggle world has Science (Claim, Evidence, Reasoning), and Cryptozoology. Science proves, tests, confronts, questions. Cryptozoology is the branch of zoology that deals with imaginary species. So there is a society-approved branch of Natural History that deals with what legends and history have given us. Those two sides, in Luna’s world, are, for the ‘official part’, the Ministry Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Scamander’s book Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (notice that the title holds the word ‘fantastic’? What irony…) and Hagrid and Grubbly-Plank as Care of Magical Creatures Teachers. Oh and we could add Charlie Weasley as a Dragon Keeper. The other side of this is The Quibbler and Xenophilius Lovegood (and Luna). So while both worlds have two instances to deal with two parts of the natural world, and while the Muggle world has both sides coexisting rather peacefully because society-approved, the wizarding world is in tension because no official body has ever given any credit to The Quibbler or Xenophilius’s weird ideas. I’ll discuss Magical Natural Sciences later in a bit more depth. What I wanted to showcase here is that this comparison about how Natural Sciences and CryptoSciences are dealt with in both worlds further supports the distinction between Aristotelian and Berkeleyan ways of seeing reality, and supports the idea that the Lovegoods are more Berkeleyan, but therefore also the fact that the Wizarding world is even more normative that the Muggle one, and that’s saying something (for instance there’s only one school and one teacher for each subject for the whole of the UK and Ireland; if that is not normative, I don’t know what is).

Luna openly states stuff that is completely bonkers, which makes her sort of -pardon me- unbelievable. Though it fits with Berkeley. I mean who knows if Rufus Scrimgeour is really a vampire or not? Or who knows if Fudge really has an army of Heliopaths? On the other hand, she was raised by An Eccentric if there ever was one. I mean old Xenophilius (incidentally, ‘xenophilius’ means ‘love of the strange’). We first meet him at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, at the start of Deathly Hallows. ‘Slightly cross-eyed, with shoulder-length white hair the texture of candyfloss, he wore a cap whose tassel dangled in front of his nose and robes of an eye-watering shade of egg-yolk yellow. An odd symbol, rather like a triangular eye, glistened from a golden chain around his neck.’ (DH, Chapter Eight) Xenophilius goes one praising the gnome infestation in the Weasleys’ garden, and the wisdom of those creatures. Not exactly your conventional wizard. He looks even stranger than that wizard wearing a lady’s dressing-gown at the Quidditch World Cup.  Thing is, the Lovegoods are taking a step back looking at the conventional world they were made to live in. They don’t fit in because their reality is unproven and therefore not believable in an Aristotelian world. However, Luna has her own boundaries of truth. Somehow they meet Dumbledore’s. He believed the Deathly Hallows existed, as did Xenophilius, and finally Harry. For most witches and wizards, including Ron and Hermione until the last moment, the Hallows are only an artefact in a children’s story, The Tale of the Three Brothers.

Luna’s mum died when Luna was nine; a spell Pandora was experimenting on backfired. Luna witnessed that and has since been able to see Thestrals. Luna’s mum was probably the one who was more perceptive and passed that to Luna (reminds me of Fiver in Watership Down passing his own sixth sense on to the next generation). Luna stays as she is, but eventually, according to Rowling, gives up on Snorkacks as her dad’s inventions (Bloomsbury Chat, 30.7.2007).

I reckon Luna would fit more in a Berkeleyan world than in the normative world our ‘civilized’ societies have built, be they magical or Muggle. Of course every society has norms. Thing is, how much constraint they set upon members makes all the difference. Luna is not a Loony (even etymologically, in my opinion, because loony is short for lunatic, which means mentally ill, from the moon - see all the tales and beliefs surrounding full moon for instance, mostly negative in a normative Aristotelian world). Luna is the positive form of Loony, I’d say. She’s seen as a loony by people whose norms are those of the society they grew up in. With a wee bit of openness of mind, Luna is a great character, a philosophical free-lancer, a mirror in which we can question our society and beliefs about reality.

PS: I want to explore friendship and loyalty in Luna briefly too. Soon... confinement helps the writer :P The wizarding community is at risk too! Stay at home!

Sources:

https://www.wizardingworld.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/the-original-forty  

https://www.wizardingworld.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/thestrals

http://www.accio-quote.org/articles/2007/0730-bloomsbury-chat.html 

https://www.syfy.com/syfywire/the-resiliency-of-luna-lovegood

Aristotle, De Interpretatione (English translation), retrieved from http://www.bocc.ubi.pt/pag/Aristotle-interpretation.pdf

Adams, R. (1972). Watership Down. Penguin.

Chaillan, M. (2016). Harry Potter et Berkeley. In Harry Potter à l’école des philosophes, Philosophie Magazine, Hors série n°31, novembre - décembre 2016. 70-71.

Granger, J. & Bassham, G. (2016). Just in Your Head? J.K. Rowling on Separating Reality from Illusion. In Bassham, G. (2016, Eds.). The Ultimate Harry Potter and Philosophy, Hogwarts for Muggles. Wiley Eds. 185-197

Nadal, C. (2014). Magical Science: Luna Lovegood’s Beliefs, Discoveries and Truth. In Martín Alegre, S., Arms, C., Blasco Solís, L., Calvo Zafra, L., Campos, R., Canals Sánchez, M., ... & García Jordà, L. (2014). Charming and bewitching: considering the Harry Potter series. 148-153.

Rowling, J. K. (2000). Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Bloomsbury, London.

Rowling, J. K. (2003). Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Bloomsbury, London.

Rowling, J. K. (2007). Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Bloomsbury, London.

Rowling, J. K. (2007). The Tales of Beedle the Bard, Bloomsbury, London.

Scamander, N. (1927; 2001; 2018; [J.K. Rowling]). Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Bloomsbury, London, in association with Obscurus Books, 18a Diagon Alley, London.

[drunklander]

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 413

I’ve been singing Jefferson’s “The emperor has no clothes.” line from Washington on Your Side all day. Because honestly, that’s basically how I feel about Outlander at this point. Obviously every season when the press tour rolls around the cast and crew are going to talk about how it’s their best season yet and yada yada talking point bullshit. And in the segments after each episode they’re obviously going to pat themselves on the back for being so fucking brilliant. But I have to ask, are they delusional and believe what they’re saying? Or are they self-aware enough to realize that they’ve been putting out a worse and worse product every year but they’re contractually obligated to only say good things about the show? (I’m not stupid, I know that regardless of what they really think about the show they’re putting out, they’re never actually going to say it’s not good. That’s not how this works.) Some, like Balfe, I think are aware that the show isn’t what it used to be. And some, like Matt and Toni, I really think believe they’re doing a good job.

But as long as they keep spouting off the same nonsense about how everything is awesome, a certain segment of the fandom will keep agreeing that the emperor’s new clothes are indeed amazing, while I’m just over here like uh, y’all realize he’s nekkid, right?

Anywho, I’m really looking forward to a very long hiatus.

As much as I tend to not like the title cards anymore, this one included, Otter Tooth being like oh fuck this white kid in his racist costume is valid af.

I do appreciate that they show the Mohawk playing lacrosse in this episode and in 4x12. Because as much as it’s associated with prep school white boys today, it was invented and played by Native American and First Nations tribes, including the Mohawk.

(I signed up to play lacrosse in high school thinking that girls’ lacrosse was like boys’ lacrosse, but it’s not. You can’t check or anything. Lame.)

These fuckers are really bad negotiators. Like hey, we *really* want this guy. Like we’re desperate to get this guy. We didn’t just give you the upper-est of upper hands in this negotiation. Nope.

Tehwahsehwke brushing off the stuff they brought to trade with as just trinkets for Roger gives me life.

Has Claire been wearing this stone all season? You’d think they would have shown her wearing it more or something. But why would they do that when it can just pop up again out of nowhere.

Also, like, why the fuck would you wear a stone you found by the skull you think belongs to a Native American ghost dude who was hatchet’ed in the back of the head to a Native American village. Like, sure she doesn’t know the connection yet, but like, seems like something you’d maybe want to leave at home.

Also who the fuck are you guys, Frasers, refusing to leave someone else’s village when asked? You’re in no position to make demands. I know you want Roger back for some reason that I will never understand, because he’s the worst (only partly being sarcastic), but you’re the fuckers who sold him away so... Just leave and come up with Plan B, don’t make everyone hate you on the way out.

Oh the irony that the racist af term is “Indian giver” when it’s the white folks who go back on their deals...

Murtz being indignant about Bree and Lord John’s engagement makes me mad all over again that we were robbed over his reaction to Jamie marrying Laoghaire.

They’re like really leaning into the benevolent slave owner bullshit, and it’s gross, tbh. Like Bree’s just totally chill being waited on by an enslaved person. This show is killing meee.

Claire making demands and Wahkatiiosta being like “bitch, please” gives me life. Like Claire, you fucking idiot, you’re really not in a position to make demands right now.

Otter Tooth really is a tragic figure. I’d say it’s weird to spend this much time on someone that’s already dead (Just to set up Donner? I’m assuming that’s why they’re doing it?), but honestly, giving the Mohawk something to do that’s not about white people is fine with me.

Really Claire, you have all these opinions about ghosts? Since when?

(Since eventually they need to explain Jamie’s ghost. So why weave in ghost-related mythology organically when you can randomly shoehorn it in with a line that makes everyone scratch their head.)

“Not one of my finer moments.” Understatement of the season, Bree. Seriously, wtaf. And putting in this meta line doesn’t make it better.

“Da told me I should forgive him.” I hate that she was doing things because someone told her she should instead of because she wanted to. Because, again, Bonnet doesn’t deserve forgiveness. Part of forgiving someone, imo, is that they need to be sorry for the thing that needs forgiving. And Bonnet is not. So fuck that guy, he shouldn’t be forgiven.

“I already have.” In this instance, Jamie at least admitted he fucked up and is trying to fix it, but that’s like the first time something like that has happened. And honestly, I’m looking forward to him continuing to try to be worthy of this forgiveness she’s granting him. Because if next season starts with them just being buddy buddy, I’m gonna roll my eyes a lot.

Uh, why *would* this Mohawk dude let you escape with Roger. He owes these white people nothing. Why on earth wouldn’t he raise the alarm. He’s not the bad guy here.

Oh good god it’s not even half over yet.

I should be feeling things about Jamie and Claire possibly being separated again, but the show has managed to make them so meh this season that I really can’t be bothered to give a fuck, tbh.

Also, like, we’ve seen them say goodbye like it might be forever so many times already that like it’s kind of losing its meaning if we don’t also see them being *together* like they’re on borrowed time. Which we haven’t this season.

I miss caring about Claire and Jamie. Make me care about them again, show. This season was supposed to be them building a life together and enjoying finally being married and settled and knowing that every minute together is precious because it’s one they never thought they’d have. And somehow the show instead made them secondary characters in their own story to the point where this moment isn’t even evoking a reaction from me.

Young Ian really hasn’t had much to do all season, but what he has been given has been good and I love him a lot. And major props to him for being like yeah, I fucked up, I’m owning it, I’m gonna apologize and I’m gonna be the one to stay. Take note, literally every other dude in this show, be more like Young Ian.

Although, man, as much as I love the growth Young Ian goes through in the books, it’s gonna be so... problematic, to put it lightly, to have a white kid cosplaying as a Mohawk for the rest of the series when we’ve never had a fully developed Mohawk character.

Murtagh’s whole speech to Jocasta can directly translated to our current trash fire of an administration not being able to grasp what the federal employees they furloughed were going through during the shutdown. But this isn’t a political show. Nope.

Yes, I know that this was all written and shot months ago. But discussing privilege and and using your privilege for good is also political.

Murtagh’s pretty chill about Jocasta owning people for someone who was indentured for years.

As great as Murcasta is as a ship name, I don’t ship it. I’m here for them being inappropriate fuckbuddies, but she’s a fucking slave owner and he’s a Regulator. So hard pass on going full Duncan Innes here.

Also it’s cute that the producers were like this is a brand new idea because in the books, Murtagh’s dead! It’s like guys, you don’t get originality points for giving a canon book plot line to a different character.

Also I swear to fuck, they’d better not do the Jocasta is secretly having a relationship with Ulysses. Because not only is that fucked up on its own, but now if she’s banging Murtz, it makes her even more garbage, because not only does she enslave people, and bangs someone she technically owns, but she’s also a cheater.

Also, is Jocasta only against sex outside of marriage for women who have never been married before? (And I specify women since Murtagh has never been married and she’s not giving him any shit...) Or is she only against it if it results in a pregnancy?

“Jenny will be totally cool with this. Yup. Jenny will totally get it and be absolutely fine with this whole situation.” Are you fucking kidding me?

Jamie deserves all of these punches, but Roger remains the worst.

The difference between Young Ian running the gauntlet and Roger running the gauntlet is striking. Young Ian knows that this is his one chance to prove himself to the Mohawk and he is not throwing away his shot.

Young Ian smiling when the Mohawk accept him is like the only thing in this episode that makes me feel things. Because like this kid is the youngest of a whole squad of siblings and has always been the awkward one who gets into shenanigans accidentally, so like it’s really nice to see him being accepted into a group on his own merits.

“Because she said terrible things and turned ye against me.” Weird way to say “because she told you the truth about how awful I am and made you realize that I am, in fact, the actual worst,” Roger.

He’s never going to apologize, is he. Of course not.

“How could you think such a thing?” “Well, you see, my daughter apparently doesn’t care enough about you to tell me anything about who you are. And you’re enough of a dick that her servant thought you were a rapist. Because, you *are* a dick. And I’m enough of an asshat that I sell into slavery first and never ask questions later because lol toxic masculinity is grand.”

“I left because she told me to go. She actually told me not to come in the first place. And I was an asshole to her in our own time. And then I was an asshole again to her in this time. And really I should just fuck all the way off because I’m the worst and she deserves better and has made it clear that she isn’t down for how I’m treating her. But nope. Why do that when we can forget she ever had any issues with me so I can play the victim card forever and then get welcomed back into her life no problem.”

“But even then, I came back for her. Even though, again, she made it clear she didn’t want me.”

I hate Roger so much. He is literally more worked up over the fact that it was fucking Bonnet who raped Bree and how Bonnet made him sail to Philly than he is about Bree being raped. What the actual fuck, bro.

“Somewhere between here and Fraser’s Ridge. You know, casually somewhere on the eastern seaboard. Really narrows it down.”

“I don’t think you can go through with a child.” They keep saying that but like they have no proof of it? Are they really just saying it so much to set up them doing just that in season six?

In this instant, Frank 2.0 is worse than the OG twatwaffle. Don’t worry, Frank is still the actual worst. He’s an emotionally abusive fuckwad and I hate him with the passion of a thousand fiery suns. But Roger here isn’t dealing with someone who left and fell in love with someone else and is having the child of the love of her life. He’s dealing with someone who was violently raped and is choosing to keep the child and love it on its own merits. And he’s fucking hesitating about whether or not he can live with that?! Are you fucking kidding me? Go fuck yourself, Roger. And then fuck all the way off. Because Bree already deserves better, but the fact that you need to fucking think about it, like she’s somehow not worthy of your love because of what she went through, is fucking irredeemable. 

I. Hate. Roger.

ALSO! Can we fucking talk for a second about how they’re making Bree’s rape and pregnancy about fucking Roger? Not omg is she ok, not omg how is she coping, not omg is she getting the care and support she needs. No, none of that. Instead we get fucking “are you, a man, ok with this.”

But since we’re apparently making this all about good ol’ Rog. He literally two fucking minutes ago called Bree his wife. Like in sickness and health, richer or poorer, no matter fucking what, married. I know he didn’t fucking think he was going to stay in the past forever or to become a parent in this way, but guess what? LIFE IS FUCKING FULL OF SURPRISES. SHIT DOESN’T ALWAYS GO ACCORDING TO PLAN. YOU WANT TO SAY YOU’RE MARRIED TO BREE? THEN NUT UP OR SHUT UP, MISTER “I WANT ALL OF YOU.”

I HATE THIS FUCKING SHOW SO MUCH.

“And we will choose his birthday wisely, but ye can be sure the lad was born in wedlock.” Oh fuck off, Jocasta.

Thank fuck this season is over because the are they/aren’t they married whiplash about the handfasting is annoying af. Literally one scene ago Roger was saying she’s his wife and now they’re lying about birthdays because she’s not married.

Ok this is shallow but did they decide that Sophie could wear makeup this season and Caitriona could only have the bare minimum to try to make the age gap seem bigger? Because honestly, the difference in their faces is quite noticeable. 

Unpopular opinion alert, but I’m totally fine with Claire and Jamie not being there for the baby’s birth. I mean, I’m kind of sad Claire wasn’t there. But she can be there for the next one. But like, Jamie hasn’t earned being with Bree in such a personal moment. Their relationship isn’t at that level.

“We told him everything. But since he’s the worst and loves the *idea* of you and not *you*, the truth was too much for his imaginary version of your relationship so he bounced. Like an asshole.”

We’re gonna be stuck with Bonnet for two more seasons, aren’t we. Ugh. They could have just killed him and been done with it, because honestly he’s not interesting enough to keep around, but the more they keep talking about how he died in the prison, the more it’s basically guaranteed that he’s going to show back up...

I’m glad Claire and Bree get a moment alone, tbh. But Bree will be “surrounded by family” at the Ridge? Really? Because pretty sure it’ll just be you and Jamie now. Since Ian is gone. And Roger went AWOL. And who knows where Murtz is gonna go...

They really love using no dialogue dinners instead of doing actual work on the characters’ relationships with each other this season, don’t they. Le sigh.

Cool that everyone is super down with Jocasta now. Because clearly ep. 4x02 didn’t happen.

Oh ffs. The literally did a running toward each other and meeting in the middle with a hug shot. Fucking kill me.

Ok, so Bree and Roger had a kind of flirty friendship that was basically just based around them both knowing about time travel. And then they sort of did the long distance relationship thing. And then Roger proposed in the most awful way possible, refused to listen to Bree’s very reasonable response, slut-shamed her for being ok with sex before marriage even though he himself had had sex before, was a dick to her when she tried to have another conversation with him, and then he followed her into the past when she expressly said not to and implied that she wasn’t planning to stay in the past permanently. Then we’re somehow expected to just accept that she’s over all of her reservations about marriage and Roger being the worst when she agrees to handfast with him, but then he’s the worst again and she rightly tells him to fuck off. And then he can’t decide if he can accept a woman he “loves” after she’s been raped?! And now we’re supposed to think that they belong together and should get the cheesiest, most cliché shot of all time? Are you fucking kidding me, show? How the fuck are we supposed to ship this?

Roger is the literal worst.

This isn’t earned at all and I hate it.

Also, wtf is up with this ending? Why not end it with Bree and Roger going back into the house?

Although, Claire’s face when Murcasta are forehead fucking is my everything.

Like there’s no reason to end on a cliffhanger that’s not even really a cliffhanger? Because like, we already know that Tryon was eventually going to call in this favor from Jamie? We’ve known this since they accepted the land grant? And like, the tension between Jamie and Murtagh over being a Regulator is already established and clearly Jamie isn’t going to actually kill Murtagh?

This is dumb. This show is bad. Thank fuck it’s Droughlander.