#love to me is an accumulation of experiences and we inevitably choose it at some point rather than fall into it... but idk

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

#eve text #elmike #stranger things #byler #only tagging byler because i feel like yall will like this take lol #tagging tagging tagging WHAT ARE EVERYONE ELSE'S THOUGHTS #god i can't believe i'm making a post about stranger things. this feels like poking a bear #i'm not particularly anti m*leven but like... they'd have to do something pretty special at this point for me to feel like it's viable #i'm seeing the bts of s5 and it's got me Having Thoughts #elmike friendship is something i am so passionate about #even before i ever liked byler (didn't ship at all until s4 even though i knew it was a thing before) i've felt this way about elmike #i always believed they were close friends at heart and needed to break up #the romance part of them felt very distinctly young and very much “he was a boy she was a girl” to me #and it hasn't deepened into anything more mature and i don't see how it could based on the current state of the writing... #the fact that lumax exists — a young relationship that is actively maturing and is healthy — makes that clear to me #and the “love confession” in s4 and how disingenuous and miserable it felt was just the nail in the coffin #also the fact that will (who is IN LOVE with mike) was instrumental in making it happen? ... uh... okay... interesting choice… #fucked up and reductive if they make it another queer unrequited love sacrifice for the sake of pushing the heterosexual agenda YUCK #so i really hope the speculation about a m*leven breakup is real!! i think it just makes sense for their characters but who knows #i don't believe in the notion of love at first sight or one true love and i think the writers don't too??? #love to me is an accumulation of experiences and we inevitably choose it at some point rather than fall into it... but idk #tv is so fixated on keeping couples together... sometimes it's just not reality guys especially with young people... LET IT GO... #like i said though i'm not 100% sold that they're going to give up their “golden couple” LMAO #stranger things hasn't historically subverted too many tropes if i'm being honest #anyway i seriously need this season to come out quickly... i'm so bored and getting my master's is crushing my soul #i need frivolity #ALSO btw i won't respond to hateful messages about this so please don't bother. it's not that serious. this is a netflix show

[cnboxingring]

(By Robert, CNboxingring.com)—-In this China's New Year movie festival, Jia Ling's "YOLO" went viral.

In the movie, the "useless girl" Le Ying, after suffering consecutive setbacks in life and workplace, has a depressed and lethargic spirit, but she has rewritten her life due to boxing.

After watching it, many viewers exclaimed with empathy, as if seeing their own lives.

I have heard this saying: Who said that when people reach middle age, everything should rest, and when they live until middle age, they feel that everything depends on human factors.

If you want to find your own hot and passionate life, you must know the three truths about changing one's life in middle age.

Finding oneself is more important than anything else

Le Ying gave up her job after graduating from college and stayed at home for more than ten years, closed her social circle, and isolated from the world.

She slept until the afternoon every day, but still felt powerless.

She was confused, unsure of who she was, unsure of what she could do, and unable to find the meaning of her existence.

Her younger sister despised her that at the age of over 30, she kept living by her parents. After a verbal altercation, Le Ying and her younger sister fought fiercely, and in the end, she ran away from home.

She met someone she liked, who was a boxing coach.

Influenced by the other, Le Ying began to engage in boxing, but at first she practiced boxing purely because of love.

Until she accompanied her boss to drink and was harassed; Helping relatives record programs and being exploited; Persuading her boyfriend not to use fake punches, but he told her to get out... A series of emotional accumulations led her to ultimately choose suicide, but fortunately she was unsuccessful.

If you don't die in a great disaster, there will always be good fortune.

Her mind was filled with thoughts of wanting to change and rediscover herself, so she began to take boxing seriously.

She practiced boxing every day and dreamt of participating in boxing competitions in order to win once and prove her worth.

Many people, as they reach middle age, experience life pressures and career setbacks, all of which erode their fighting spirit.

This is precisely because they live without knowing why.

In "When I Find Myself," there is a saying: "When I find myself, I become a new person born again, and the world before me is different from the past."

Only by finding oneself can one live their own life and truly feel the meaning and value of life.

Master Hongyi Li Shutong once said:

"The most meaningful thing in this life is to rediscover yourself, understand the meaning of your existence, know your own path back, turn yourself into a lamp, illuminate yourself and all sentient beings."

Born as a person, it is inevitable to have confusion. The only one who can make you confidently move forward is the original intention.

Only when we always maintain a clear self-awareness, are not affected by the environment, and are not hit by difficulties, can we guard the clouds and see the moon.

Only by holding back the pain of molting can life be rejuvenated

Some people say: Only after shedding the skin can one break through the cocoon and become a butterfly.

A life that can truly make a comeback must undergo the test of time and the tempering of growth.

The retirement age for female boxers is in their thirties, but Le Yiing didn't believe it and still wanted to sign up for boxing competitions.

She was told that participating in boxing competitions required a technical assessment, and even the club owner questioned her, believing that even if she was trained for one or two years, it would be not enough.

But she still hadn't given up.

From initial exploratory contact with pear balls, to a series of solid and powerful boxing training later on.

Practicing from morning till night every day, sweat splashed down like droplets, wetting clothes one by one.

Playing pearball, practicing walking, and in order to enhance physical fitness, running, weightlifting, and skipping rope all were not skipped.

The boxing level assessment finally went from being unqualified time and time again to being qualified. She survived every darkest moment and successfully stood on the competition field.

Every pain will make people grow.

Life will not always be smooth sailing and enduring the toughest days will make life more valuable.

In order to lose a hundred pounds for the new character, Jia Ling, the actress, put in all her efforts and gritted her teeth to endure multiple moments of breakdown.

Even the fitness coach who accompanied her during exercise couldn't help but sigh:

"Only those who have experienced it firsthand know how difficult this year has been. It is gratifying that Le Ying succeeded and also gave birth to a new Jia Ling."

Behind all the renewed efforts, there is suffering.

A good life is not something that falls from the sky, but something that one can endure on one's own.

When you overcome the dark moments of life, that experience becomes another form of wealth, helping you embark on a brand new journey.

When you become stronger, the whole world will make way for you

Writer, Mo Yan said, "The most terrifying thing in this world is that people who are better than us actually work even harder than us. So, you must work hard and strive. When you are strong enough, the world will treat you kindly; when you are strong enough, the world will make way for you."

Every person who strives in this world is a star, emitting a unique light.

Previously, Le Ying was always cautious and didn't dare to walk side by side when dating someone she liked.

But when she ignited her fighting spirit and decided to participate in the boxing competition, many people couldn't help but burst into tears when they saw Le Ying slowly regaining her vitality.

Although she didn't win the competition, everyone who used to look down on her applauded and cheered for her changes.

Because in the boxing ring, Le Ying showed unprecedented resilience and perseverance.

She proved herself with sweat and effort, and also won the respect and recognition of those around her.

The strong seek themselves in everything, while the weak seek others in everything.

Seeking within oneself is the beginning of a person's strength.

After a person becomes stronger, they will have their own magnetic field, which can gather various forces around them.

The path of life naturally becomes smoother.

In middle age, the only way to become stronger is to make yourself stronger.

#yolo #boxing #jialing

[ngatawaschools]

Why Top Academic High Schools Should Be Every Parent’s Choice?

Embarking on the journey of choosing the right high school for your child is akin to setting sail on uncharted waters. It's a decision laden with significance, influencing not just academic pursuits but shaping character, values, and the very fabric of a future yet to unfold. In the midst of this crucial decision-making process, the spotlight inevitably falls on top academic high schools and the transformative experiences they offer.

Join me on this exploration as we uncover why these institutions should be at the forefront of every parent's consideration.

The Power of Foundation

At the heart of every successful academic journey lies a solid foundation. Top academic high schools are the architects of such foundations, providing an environment where intellectual curiosity is not just encouraged but fervently nurtured. The emphasis here goes beyond rote memorisation; it's about instilling a genuine love for learning, sparking creativity, and honing critical thinking skills that will serve students well in any future endeavour.

Excellence in Education

When we talk about academic excellence, top academic high schools invariably set the gold standard. These institutions boast faculty members who are not just educators but mentors, guiding students towards a comprehensive understanding of their subjects. The curriculum is dynamic, evolving with the times to encompass not just theoretical knowledge but also practical applications, ensuring that graduates are well-prepared for the challenges of an ever-changing world.

Holistic Development

Education transcends the boundaries of textbooks, and top academic high schools recognise this fundamental truth. These institutions foster an environment where extracurricular activities, sports, and the arts are not just additional components but integral parts of the learning process. This holistic approach ensures that students develop into well-rounded individuals capable of navigating diverse aspects of life with confidence and competence.

Boarding Schools

For some parents, the idea of sending their child to a boarding school might seem daunting. However, the concept of boarding schools has evolved significantly. Today, Boarding schools In New Zealand are not just educational institutions; they are communities that provide a supportive and enriching environment. Living on campus allows students to immerse themselves fully in the academic and social fabric of the school, fostering strong bonds and cultivating a sense of independence.

Global Exposure

In an increasingly interconnected world, exposure to different cultures and perspectives is a valuable asset. Top academic high schools often prioritise global education, offering exchange programs, international collaborations, and a diverse student body. This exposure goes beyond the confines of textbooks, preparing students to thrive in a globalised society and become citizens of the world.

Life Skills for Tomorrow

Education is not merely about accumulating knowledge; it's about acquiring skills that will be applicable in real-life scenarios. Top academic high schools integrate life skills into their curriculum, ensuring that students graduate not only with a wealth of academic knowledge but also with the ability to communicate effectively, work collaboratively, and adapt to the challenges that lie ahead.

Investing in the Future

Choosing a high school is an investment in a child's future, and the dividends reaped from selecting a top academic high school are enduring. Graduates of these institutions often find themselves not just academically proficient but also well-equipped to navigate the complexities of adulthood. The network of alumni from such schools often becomes a valuable resource, opening doors to opportunities and connections that can span a lifetime.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the decision to enrol a child in a top academic high school goes beyond the immediate academic advantages. It's about sculpting a future imbued with knowledge, skills, and a global perspective. Boarding schools In New Zealand, as a subset of these institutions, provide an immersive experience that fosters independence and resilience.

So, as parents stand at the crossroads of educational choices, the beacon of top academic high schools shines brightly, promising a journey that transcends the ordinary and propels students towards a future of limitless possibilities.

#boarding schools in new zealand #independent schools #independent schools nz #boarding schools

[tinycatslay]

#4 The incredible boobs that surround me

Recently I was in a café face-timing my grandma to thank her for some money she sent me to cover the fleabag jumpsuit I bought for my grad ball (I don't think I will ever feel good about accepting money from people, especially my loved ones, but my grandma has entitled herself as my "fairy grandma" so there's that).

While catching up with her, which always makes my day a thousand times better in that particular way that all sweet grandmas do, she was telling me about how hot and stuffy it was in Lisbon and how she just got her bra off because it was really annoying her - which I fully endorsed with an enthusiastic "home is where the bra comes off". Little did I know that mid-conversation and in the middle of the café (which grandma, in her defence, absolutely forgot I was at) she would pull her top up and full-on flash me to illustrate her point.

This prompted a chain of laughs and screams on both of our parts, of course (and I'm still laughing about it a little now) but later on, it got me thinking about the unapologetic boob bearers of my life.

From my grandma who is "too old to care", to my friendship with a force-of-nature-party-animal confident coursemate, to the love-hate relationship of a friend who wishes they could choose when to have them around, to those who don't want to think about them at all because they will inevitably compare themselves.

In my twenties, my body feels like a vessel to live a life I idealise. Not exclusively my boobs, but my body as a whole. I wish it would take less time to understand that it doesn't matter as much as I think every fortnight - or rather than when I'm made feel like it does, that someone would swing a bat over whoever decided that.

...I don't know where I was going with this.

In primary school, I wanted to have boobs like my friend, in middle school I did not enjoy the unwanted attention it brought upon me, in high school I wished I didn't have boobs at all, in university I just felt like it didn't matter much. Which it doesn't.

But god does it make me happy to see women thriving in their bodies, in their confidence, their sexuality, and their whole experience of being. The accumulated experiences and traumas and awkward moments of bearing boobs do unite us on the nights when we pretend to be drunk just so we can share it all and laugh and feel okay.

#writing #coffetime #iced coffee #reflection #bodypositivity #self healing #i feel so jittery #journal #girls night #womenempowerment

[lukescaboose]

So Into You

Hello everyone and Happy Valentine’s Day! I’m so excited to put this out into the world I’ve been working on it for almost a a year and its my first fic in nearly two years. I really hope you guys love it as much as I do and thanks so much if you choose to read it. love you all xx

Summary: Lauren and Harry are best friends who love each other and they both know it but Lauren is too stubborn to admit it.

What’s in it: Sugar sweet best friends to lovers with a healthy bit of smut. Black ofc.

Word count: 24.8k

Spotify Playlist

She couldn’t stop watching him from across the crowded dinner table. She admired him, his charisma and charm, his ability to dazzle a room without trying. She’d always loved that about him, way before she’d realized that she was in love with him anyway. It was his striking personality that had drawn her to him in the first place. Though they had never been anything more than best friends, Lauren was adamant to always let him know how much she appreciated that about him. And as she watched now she couldn’t help the small grateful smile from spreading across her lips. She was lucky enough to experience him for who he was and not because of the fame he had accumulated. Harry was everything to her. He reminded her that there were good people in the world, willing to give the shirt off their backs if it got someone else ahead.

Harry’s eyes met hers from the other end of the table, he offered her a smile and a silly face. She chuckled and looked away, her fingers coiling around the stem of her wine glass. She didn’t know anyone else besides Harry at this dinner party, but she knew how important it was to him that she’d be there. So she made an effort to make small talk with his colleagues around her but was easily lost when the conversation moved towards Harry’s business as the topic. She never cared for the limelight or wealth, her work dealt with children and the smiles she created were well worth it to her. Harry had felt the same, though his life had led him down a different path. His business created affordable living for lower-income families and he was very successful, though that didn’t matter to him.

Their aspiration for creating a change was how he and Lauren met. A benefit concert that Harry had put together drew Lauren’s attention and she brought some of her mentees. While the girls participated in the activities she wandered about to each vendor and learned about more ways to help within her community. It was when Harry had approached her that she thought her heart would lurch from her throat. He was incredibly handsome, dressed in a cream suit with a baby blue button-up undone at his chest. They talked, connected over their professions, and agreed to meet over dinner. It was no more than a networking opportunity, Lauren knew that a donation from Harry would secure a safe living environment for the girls at her group home. But when they met over dinner the conversation was endless and they talked until the restaurant was about to close. Harry had promised to make a donation to her home in exchange for her number. He was wildly attracted to Lauren, her dedication to her craft made him feel safe. She was ambitious, never righteous, and knew just how important her work was to the kids. He’d donate all of his earnings to her if it meant he got to see her again. 

As much as Lauren was attracted to Harry she’d never mix business with her own personal life, she was very adamant about that. Harry didn’t feel the same way but settled for friends if it meant that she’d be in his life. So they’d meet up for drinks often and discuss the labors of their work life, but the more they’d see each other the easier it was to blur the lines between colleagues and friends. Soon enough they’d begun to go over each other’s places and share the intimate details of their lives. They enjoyed each other’s company, knew how many people in their line of work only cared about money. Harry and Lauren both used their heart in everything they accomplished. With Harry’s personality and refreshing outlook on life, it was easy for Lauren to fall into a friendship with Harry - so much so he became her favorite confidant. It was nice for Harry to find someone who wasn’t interested in piggybacking on the tails of his success. Lauren had shared the same vision he did, the reward was simply making a difference. Though if it were up to Harry, he’d put Laurens name on every deal he’d ever signed, at the end of every speech he’d ever delivered. She was very much just as part of his success as he was and he’d never be able to repay her. He couldn’t imagine where he’d be without her, probably wouldn’t have made it as far as he had. Lauren listened to every idea he’d ever had, adding her input to his three A.M. thoughts. Without her, he’d probably be the same twenty-two-year-old kid with a dream.  

The dinner ended with Harry thanking his team for helping him achieve his vision. He made sure to give special thanks to Lauren, which had her smiling sheepishly at her dinner plate. Though he did that often, it never failed to make her cower under the stare of his colleagues. Harry smiled brightly at her from the head of the table reassuring her that without her none of this would have been possible. The opening of a new recreational center was Lauren's idea and she had pushed Harry way past his comfort zone when she presented it to him. The project was their baby and to see it come to light was something neither of them took for granted. Although Lauren wanted none of the praise or acknowledgment, Harry could never pretend as if this was all his doing. 

Lauren watched as Harry greeted and thanked his colleagues for coming. She stayed back, wanting to be the last to speak with him. They were going out for celebratory drinks, Harry’s idea. As the final group made their way out of the restaurant, Harry engulfed Lauren in a hug. “Feels good huh?” He asked her, placing a small kiss to her temple. She pulled away from their embrace, grabbing his hand in hers with a nod. “Really spectacular, Harry.” She beamed up at him. “All thanks to you, love. Still can’t believe you shot down my idea of putting your name on the building.” He frowned. She shushed him with a laugh, pulling him towards the entrance. 

Harry made sure to order Lauren’s favorite drink as she found a table for them to sit at. He brought the drinks back to her, ignoring the frown etched on her lips because he paid. He slid in next to her in the rounded booth, pushing her drink towards her with a smile. “Cheers to another advancement in the community and for all of your brilliant ideas.” He extended his glass to hers. She rolled her eyes jokingly at him but clanked her glass against his anyway. Harry grabbed her hand that rested on the table, capturing her gaze with his own with a bout of sincerity. “Thank you, Lauren, seriously. I couldn’t have done this without you.”  His calloused thumb rubbed over the smooth skin of her hand and she smiled. “We make a good team.” She grinned. “You give me any more ideas and I’m putting you on the payroll.” He chuckled over the rim of his glass, earning himself another eye roll from Lauren. “M’just supporting your vision.” She reminded him, taking a sip from her beverage. “Our vision.” He corrected her swiftly.  She smiled at him then, his kindness something she never took for granted. It was one of the reasons she found herself so desperately falling for him. He made it so hard for her not to want him in the ways that she did. She moved her hand from his hold and brought it to toy with her hair. She’d worn it natural tonight, the curls retracting when she let the strand free. 

“Like your hair like tha’.” He remarks, eyes following the actions of her fingers. Her gaze follows his, the curl she’d previously been playing with in front of her eyes now.

 “Thank you, took a long time.” She sighs, pushing the curl from her vision. He laughs, finishing the contents of his glass.

 “I know, seen you on wash day plenty of times.” She chuckles, shaking her head. “S’my favorite though.” He finishes with a sigh. A compliment was never far from his lips when he was around Lauren. Most of the time he did it without realizing it, always wanting to share whatever was on his mind with her. Other times he complimented her just because he liked the way her eyes shifted after. He found it funny that she always acted as if she’s heard something that wasn’t meant for her. That only made him reassure her that he was in fact speaking to her. She was gorgeous and he’d always tell her, she deserved to hear it. Lauren’s palms always got sweaty whenever he did that. She had never felt so seen and acknowledged as she did when she was around Harry. He was always bragging about her, even if he was the only one to hear it. He’d always felt that things that were incredible needed to be celebrated - in this case, his “thing” was just a “who”. She smiles appreciatively, the melanin in her skin hiding the inevitable blush. He never failed to make her flush. 

“You’re too kind.” She laughs, finishing the contents of her drink. The remaining ice hits the glass audibly and she sighs, settling back into her seat.

 “Only to you.” Harry winks at her, fanning a fire inside her chest that only he could put out. When he leaves to grab them a refill Lauren lets out an audible breath. She always feels like she’s holding the air inside her lungs whenever she’s around Harry. His compliments and praise suffocate her to the point where she feels dizzy. And if this were the way she was to die she’d be more than okay with that. She had never felt this way in her entire life. Men and relationships came and went, but this one she felt everywhere. It was like he had cast a spell on her, consuming her thoughts with every waking word and she didn’t mind but always felt relieved when she came back to earth. He was just so charming, to the point where it was hard to focus on anything else but him. She knew it wasn’t only her that felt this way, Harry had a way about him that would captivate his company. He drew people in, that’s what he was good at, and for her, he’d never stop until she succumbed to his charm. 

“For you, angel.” He slid the glass towards her, making himself comfy by her side. She smiles and thanks him, expelling the air between her lips after she swallows. “How’re the girls?” He asks, the tension is thick between them but he had grown used to it by this point. It was always like this, tense but comfortable, exciting even. Harry always looked forward to the times where they could be alone and catch up, even if he spent the majority of the time thinking about how beautiful she was. Lauren wipes the condensation from her glass onto a napkin, her eyes gleaming as she thinks about the girls from her job. 

“They’re great.” She responds with a chuckle, “So wickedly smart those girls.” Her mind travels to her mentees and how they always kept her on her toes with their insightful questions. They were always changing Lauren’s perspective on things and sometimes she felt that they were teaching her more than she was teaching them. 

“That’s great. And everything with the home is okay?” He queried and she nods with a smile. 

“What about you, big shot? Any new news that I should know?” She shoves at his shoulder lightly, having read in the paper that he had opened a new development on the west side of town. He laughs lightheartedly, his hand reaching up to wipe over his mouth. 

“I’ve been quite busy.” He shrugs then places his arm over the back of the booth. Lauren finds it difficult not to fall into his side. Even though she desperately wants to and Harry hopes that she does.

 “I’d say.” She chuckles. She places her chin in her hand, turning her body towards Harry’s. He fights the urge to lean into her, always wanting to be closer than what she’d allow. “Proud of you.” She murmurs, brown eyes watching over his face. He smiles a dimpled smile at her and clinks his glass against hers as a thank you. 

It's quiet for a moment, the bar is more upscale with very few patrons and Harry is grateful. Though he knows better than to think anything different, he almost lets himself believe that they’re on a date. Every moment spent with her felt intimate, whether those were her intentions or not, and most times Harry didn’t mind playing pretend. “You know,” He drags out the words, catching Lauren’s attention and she fights the urge to roll her eyes. Whenever he started a sentence that way a new idea followed. 

“Why don’t you take a break for a while, H. Bask in the moment for a bit.” She sighs, gently placing her hand over his. Lauren had come to learn very quickly that Harry wasn’t very fond of rest. Unlike herself, he was always bouncing from one venture to the next. She always felt like she needed a month's rest after one big thing. Though they were polar opposites, they worked together and were always pulling each other out of their comfort zones.

 “I know, love. Which is exactly why I booked us a getaway.” He grinned, that stupid grin that always made Lauren’s insides quiver. She furrowed her eyebrows at him, the confusion setting in after the initial shock. Harry gripped her hand that was already on his, squeezing gently as he beamed at her. “Know you’ve got some time off and I know how hard it is for you to actually distance yourself from your work. So, I figured, why not get away so you can actually take care of yourself for a bit.” He shrugs sheepishly and she continues to stare at him in bewilderment. Finding it hard to believe that he had actually done something like this. Not that this was something he’d never do, getaways were always something he’d bring up. But each time, Lauren would shoot it down with the excuse of work. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go, she didn’t trust herself to go. Now she had no excuse, no safety net to catch her when she was in this kind of predicament. The way he was looking at her with such hopeful eyes was enough for her to contemplate saying yes for a moment. 

“Please, Lau” He pleaded when she was quiet for a moment too long. “You know how much we both could use this and there’s no better time. I’m stepping away for a bit since this project is completed, and I’d love nothing more than to run away for a bit with you.” She couldn’t help but smile softly at his words, even in the midst of her panic. There was no excuse good enough that he would accept, and she had no real reason not to go. Harry knew her boundaries and always respected them, she had no reason to believe that anything would change when they went away.

“How long?” she raised an eyebrow at him and his smile grew, knowing she was cracking. 

“Five nights,” He felt giddy as his body leaned in towards hers. “Santa Monica, beach view, close to the pier.” 

“Hotel?” 

“Airbnb.”

Her smile grew larger as the excitement set in, just as Harry knew it would. She had mentioned one time, a feeble excuse to get out of a vacation, that hotels were just as strict as work. She hated the rigidness and that you could never make a hotel feel like home. She always felt like she was sharing her vacation with a hundred other strangers, the shared amenities alone were enough to make her stay as far away as possible.

 “Fine.” She grinned.

 “You’re gonna love it, I promise.” Harry went on to explain the intricate details of their trip. They would leave that upcoming weekend, all their expenses were paid for. And he was certainly not budging on that. “You wouldn’t even let me compensate you for the brilliant idea of a rec center, Lau. Let me do this for you, Lord knows you deserve it.” He sighed. He ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly, her stubbornness has always been something he could do without. He admired it at times, adored it others, but when it got in the way of him trying to express his appreciation for her, he hated it. She stuck her tongue out at him teasingly.

 “I’m paying you back whether you like it or not.” She huffed, pulling her hand away from his albeit reluctantly.

 “And I’ll match it and donate it to a foundation of your choosing, princess.” She crossed her arms over her chest like a child which only made Harry chuckle.

 “Thank you, but I hate you right now.” She pouts. 

Harry shrugs and nods his glass towards her, “You can hate me on the beach, darling.” 

***

“All packed, lovie?” His voice echoes through the receiver as her phone lays on her dresser. She huffed, loud enough that she knew he’d hear it, whilst shoving random items into her dusty suitcase. It took her forever just to find the old thing. Mostly reserved for trips back home - which were few and far between - it was shoved in the back of the hall closet. She had made a list loaded with essentials to bring, but she wished she had cuter outfits to bring. It was stupid and she knew it, but despite how many times she told herself she shouldn’t, she wanted to impress Harry. 

“Just about, wish I had some new things to wear. Meant to go shopping this week but got caught up at work every day.” She groaned, pulling a bikini from her bottom drawer. It was barely enough to be considered cute but it would have to do.

 “Can always go shopping when we get there.” His voice sounded further away now, she reckoned he’d put the phone down somewhere as she had.

 “And overpay ridiculously at some tourist shop? No thanks.” She chuckled, now going through her summer basket.

 “I’ll take you to the nearest Target as soon as we land, how’s tha’ sound?” She laughed loudly, wishing she could smack away the smirk that was adorning his features inevitably. 

 “Oh I’ll be holding you to that, can’t possibly bring all my hair products on the plane.” The thought of that made her slightly nauseous. She didn’t want to pay for products that she wouldn’t be able to bring back home, but it was a small price to pay for a free vacation. 

“Thought you had an appointment to get your hair braided today? S’that why I never got those pictures I asked for?” She could practically hear the pout in his voice, and it was moments like these that made it difficult to distinguish what their relationship really was. She was certain he had only meant that he wanted to see her hair because that is what any friend would want, but her mind allowed her to believe that he was genuinely interested. Which he was, but Lauren was too stubborn to see anything for what it truly was. 

“I was getting butterfly locs, doofus, had to cancel last minute though.” She sighed at another added stressor.

 “Can’t go tomorrow? Our flights not til 10:30 at night, love.” He was closer to the phone now, sat on the end of his bed, and thinking of any way to make things right for her. He didn’t want her to worry about her hair or anything else for that matter, which is exactly why when he booked the hair appointment he had also placed a deposit for the next day just in case anything should go wrong. 

“Probably not, she’s definitely booked by now.” Lauren didn’t want to dwell on it much, though she knew how much she wanted that hairstyle. She could never find the time to get it done and thought it was perfect for a vacation of any sort. 

“Give her a call tomorrow morning, bug. Doesn’t hurt to ask.” Harry tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, knew she’d flip her shit if she knew what he’d done. 

“I’ll have to pay extra, it’s not even worth it.”

 He rolled his eyes on his end, “About the same amount you’ll waste on hair products, I reckon. You want your hair done, go get it done.” He huffed, hoping that would do the trick, he had no other moves up his sleeve. She was quiet for a moment and he knew she was contemplating his suggestion. 

“Fine. I’ll call her, but I don’t want to be let down again.” She picked at the lint on her carpet as she bit her lip and Harry tried his best not to chuckle.

 “If it doesn’t work out I promise to help retwist your hair every night before bed, deal?” He smiled at nothing in particular, laying back against his duvet while thinking about just how soft her hair was. He even contemplated canceling the appointment just so he’d have the chance to be close to her. 

“You’re impossible.” She laughed. The thought of not calling at all crossed her mind for a moment before she pushed it away, telling herself she’d revisit his words later. 

They’d hung up the phone a bit later after Lauren promised to share the outcome of tomorrow morning. Harry was excited to revel in just how happy she’d be to look the way she wanted and he was happy he was able to do that for her. He’d do anything just to see her smile, the consequences he was sure to face for it were minuscule. 

***

Just as he knew he would, the next day at around 2 o’clock he received a call from an angry Lauren. He quickly switched the call to video just to see her pretty face and couldn’t keep the grin off his own. She looked more gorgeous than he ever thought imaginable - though he thought that whenever he saw her - it was hard to focus on the irate nature of her tone. Apparently, when Lauren went to pay, the hairdresser spilled the beans that an English gentleman had already footed the bill, and had left a pretty generous tip. Which left Lauren flushing and dodging questions from her regular stylist with empty promises to answer her inquiries later. She rushed from the salon to call Harry immediately, her skin on fire with anger and simultaneously, appreciation.

 “Well aren’t you a vision?” He interrupts her rant as soon as her camera connects which makes her stutter out a thank you in the midst of her rambling. 

“You’re racking up quite a bill here, Styles.” She huffs as she gets into her car, and Harry can’t keep his eyes off his screen. He was sure that this vacation was sure to put the nail in his coffin but he didn’t mind. He had it bad for her and would do it again and again.

 “S’ nothing if I get to see you smile.” He reminds her, rolling over in his covers. He was faintly aware of just how late in the day it was becoming but figured rest was best before a vacation where his thoughts and attention would solely be on her. He ignores the way she rolls her eyes, his eyes watching the golden charms wrapped around her hair. “Seriously though, your hair looks very nice.” He hums and watches as she bites her lip to avoid smiling. 

“How’d you know what hair to buy, anyway? You didn’t even know what they were called.” She pesters.

 “Oh, I have my ways, darling.” Truthfully he had asked for a detailed list from the hairstylist on where to go and what to buy. He insisted that he pay for her time but she told him he had already given her plenty, which didn’t stop him from tipping her slightly more than necessary. 

“You make it so hard to be mad at you.” She scowled. Harry followed with a deep laugh, only wiping the frown from Lauren’s face just as quickly as it had formed.

 “Because I don’t deserve for you to be mad at me!” He grinned widely at his phone, all consumed with her presence.

 “That’s for me to decide, Styles. I’m not talking to you for the whole flight, swear it.” She nodded in agreement with herself, which only made Harry laugh harder.

 “We both know I don’t need your response to talk your ear off, sweetheart.” And he was right, that was one of the things Lauren loved most about him, his rambling. She could be dead asleep and he’d talk just to hear his thoughts aloud and she truly did not mind. She couldn’t count the times she had fallen asleep to the sound of his voice whether it be over the phone or in person. In fact, she preferred succumbing to sleep that way. The slow forming words on rose-colored lips painted her dreams anyhow.

She’d made it the entire ride to the airport, the trek through security, and half of the wait for boarding without talking to him. A task that was easier said than done. He was purposefully bringing up topics he knew she loved to talk about, and reveled in the way her face would twist when she caught herself opening her mouth to respond. She was more than ready to give up the charade but knew his satisfaction was not something she wanted to hear about. So she persisted, busied herself with her emails, and ignored Harry’s remark about taking a break from work. 

“How long y’gonna torture me like this, love?” His hushed tone against her ear had her shifting nervously in the uncomfortable airport chair. “Reckon everyone around thinks I’m just some lonely lad.” A cold shudder ran down her spine at his proximity and the feeling of his breath against the shell of her ear.  She was frozen in her place for a moment, the tempest in her brain willing her to give in. She needed to stay strong, assert any type of willpower at this moment. She figured it was time to change the outcome of how these things usually go. He was pulling all his stops and normally this is where she’d cave. But Lauren wondered what would come next, although against her best interest. So she stuck to her guns. She slid further into her chair, crossing her legs to draw Harry’s attention, and continued to scroll. He huffed, his hair tickling her cheek as he dropped his head dramatically. 

“Fine.” He slouched into his own seat, grumpily looking down at his own phone. His obvious pout was visible from Lauren’s peripheral and she found it difficult not to stare at it. Her thoughts reminded her that she was only punishing herself. So he had done a nice thing, so what? When’s the last time that anyone had been so thoughtful? The man had made two appointments and picked out braiding hair. But that was precisely the problem. Those were the reasons why she was as mad as she was. Harry had once again made it harder for her to distinguish the nature of their relationship. Then she was reminded that the only reason Harry was being kept at arm’s length was because of her in the first place. This then brought up the impenetrable fact that the relationship that they had built was too special to damage with self-indulgences. So the indifferent look on her face remained for just a while longer. Until they were seated next to each other, closer than could possibly be comfortable, she hated airlines for that. Unbeknownst to her, Harry was tempted to buy the first-class seats but knew better not to. No matter how uncomfortable he was in the tiny seats of economy-class. 

“Can’t leave me lonely the whole trip, can you? I’m on my knees here, darling.” He pleaded, trying his best to meet her eye but she wouldn’t let him. 

“You’re sitting actually.” She said pointedly, still making an effort to not return his gaze. He sighed in relief, dropping his head against her shoulder.

 “Geeze, love had me dying.” He mumbled. “Thought I’d have to start singing to ya.” He slumped into his chair, making himself as cozy as possible.

 “Wouldn’t have minded, know how much I love when you sing.” She teased, offering a small smile that tugged on the corner of her mouth. Harry flushed at her compliment, he only ever sang for her and his mum. He drops his head with a sheepish grin, fingers fiddling his rings for a second. Lauren softens deeper when she catches his diffident actions, knowing just how vulnerable he is about that area of his life. 

She had caught him singing on accident the first time, they were making dinner in the kitchen of his place, one of his many playlists going in the background. She remembered chopping onions to ‘Sparks’ by Coldplay when she’d heard him. It was faint at first, barely audible over the music, but this enticed her to listen harder. She turned from her position quickly, walking to his side of the kitchen to grab the kitchen towel. She was happy he hadn’t stopped when she approached him and decided to not comment on it then. He was rather good, a lovely voice she’d noted. It was unlike Harry to not flaunt the areas he was rather good in and Lauren figured it was something he wasn’t keen on sharing.  It wasn’t until he sang twice more that she spoke up. They were in her living room, the TV muted and a playlist of her own droning in the background. That was how they shared songs with each other, shazam’ing secretly in the other’s presence. Mac Ayres’s ‘Slow Down’ was playing softly and Harry began to sing absentmindedly.

 “Y’know this one?” She’d said without considering it, closing her mouth quickly afterward. Harry looked at her guiltily, nodding with a small chuckle. 

“Looked it up last time you played it.” He admitted. Lauren grinned, she always took secret pride in introducing Harry to new things. 

“You’ve got a nice voice, by the way.” She scrolled down her timeline in an effort to not watch for his reaction, knew he’d be a bit embarrassed. Which he was, he’d never thought of the possibility of Lauren actually hearing him. He knew that it wasn’t unlikely that she had, he had become that comfortable with her he supposed. But nevertheless, the compliment had him turning crimson. She never said anything about it after that. She wanted him to be comfortable around her, a safe space like he was for her. 

“Maybe I should sing more often if it means you’ll be mad at me less.” He chuckled, scratching his jaw in recovery.

 “Maybe you’ll be so busy singing, you won’t be able to do the things you do that make me mad.” Lauren smiles a closed-lipped sarcastic smile which only makes Harry grin.

 “Touche.”

 The seatbelt light dings then, signaling their takeoff and their attention is lost from one another. Lauren turns to look out the window, her blanket folded over her legs. She wore shorts in preparation for the warm weather upon their arrival, but it was a terrible idea. Her thighs stuck to every chair she sat in and the peeling of her skin from the fake leather was causing irritation. Harry could see the grimace in her face whenever he extended his hand to help her up, and at first, he thought it was because she was angry with him. It was when she rubbed tenderly at the back of her thigh that he realized. He offered to buy her some sweats from the tourist shop but the scowl she’d made was enough for him to not push it further. That was exactly what had gotten him the silent treatment in the first place. Instead, he placed his courtesy airline blanket over her chair before she sat down. Lauren wanted to be mad that he continued to be unreasonably sweet to her even without paying for anything, but she was too relieved to care. She had also worn short sleeves - which was a rookie mistake - and was deciding if it was her legs or arms that would suffer. Harry had layered up and truthfully didn’t mind. Lauren unfolded the blanket and extended some to him with a small apologetic smile. He returned one of his own, lifting the armrest between them.

 “Here get some rest, you had a long day today.” Lauren rests her head against his shoulder without a word, more than grateful for his offer. Harry rests his cheek on her head, inhaling her scent quietly. 

***

“Wake up, love.” Harry puts the rental in park, reaching over to gently touch her arm. “Food will be here soon.” Lauren lifts her head from the window, groggy and disoriented. She groans, stretching within the small confines of the vehicle.

 “What’d you order?” She grumbles, stifling a yawn with her words as she undoes her seatbelt.

 “Chinese. Got that sushi you like too.” He smiles softly at her though she’s not looking. He had decided that he’d let himself play pretend for a while, figured it couldn't hurt to just let himself be. If that meant living in delusion for the duration of their vacation, then so be it. He’d be there waiting until she wanted to make it a reality anyhow. 

The Airbnb was very quaint and sweet. Harry tried hard to find something that would feel like home for Lauren and still offered a nice view of the beach. He walked behind her through the front door, lugging a suitcase and waiting anxiously for her reaction. The layout of the space was open, not too much focus on the living room but rather on the kitchen that harnessed the view of the pier. Bright blues and grays decorated the home, deep mahogany hardwood adding just the right touch of home. 

“Oh, H.” Lauren breathed, her eyes wide as she took in her surroundings.

 “Do you like it?” He asks nervously, placing the suitcase by the door. There were more bags to be grabbed from the car, but he was enjoying the look on Lauren’s face far more.

 “It’s amazing, Harry. Really, I love it.” She turns to him, sporting a smile larger than Harry has ever seen her wear, and he wishes he could make her smile like that every day for the rest of his life. His arms wrap around her figure when she embraces him, placing a small kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, I appreciate this.” She says, letting her fingers graze his face in their close proximity. Lauren smiles gently, hoping that her words were enough to express just how appreciative she really is. No one had ever gone as far as to consider the small details that were important to her. She was genuinely grateful to have a friend like Harry.

“Anything to see you smile, you know that.” He speaks softly, the pad of his thumb rubbing small circles at her back. He places a slow kiss on her forehead, letting his lips linger for far longer than they should before pulling away. “I’m gonna grab the rest of our stuff.” His tone is just above a whisper, and Lauren is too enchanted with him to say anything before he’s out the door and down the porch steps. 

She was enamored by her surroundings, Harry’s sweet touch, and his words - things that would usually overwhelm her. But given her circumstances, she had never felt more cared for, the grave she had dug for herself had just become several inches deeper. She ran her hands along the cold stone of the large island, gazing into the darkness out the large windows. There was an alcove on the opposite side of the room that overlooked the scenery that was sure to be stunning in the morning, and Lauren was glad she had brought her favorite book along. She wanted to wait for Harry before going on a proper tour of the home, but curious eyes had her wandering down the long hallway. From what she had seen, there seemed to be no upstairs to the home and she was grateful. She hated homes that felt divided into too many parts. She decided to wait for Harry before checking the rooms out and made her way back to the kitchen. On the opposite side, there were large sliding doors that led out to a massive backyard with a pool that was lit up a light purple color. The air warmed her skin as she ventured outside, eyes resting on the patio set that would be perfect for breakfast in the morning. She made a note to wake up early so she could make breakfast for him. She’d already noticed that the cabinets and fridge were stocked full of groceries, surely something Harry had arranged, and she wanted to do something special for him. 

“Gorgeous isn’t it?” His voice startled her, only bringing a smile to his face as he leaned against the doorframe. She turned to face him, a shocked expression on her face and he couldn’t tell if it was the view or his sudden reappearance that had caused it. Lauren shifted on her feet, looking back out towards the view where she could vaguely make out the shape of the sea. “It really is, Har. I can’t thank you enough.” She breathes, fidgeting with her fingers as she speaks. The thought of how much he must’ve spent on such a nice stay made her uneasy but she figured she’d just enjoy it, there was no use in arguing over it.

 “The food’s here if you’re hungry, darling. After we eat we could go on a little tour if you’re not too tired.” He hums, twisting his rings around his fingers. He wasn’t uncomfortable with her around, only slightly surprised that he had even made it this far. He knew it would be a long shot to even get her to agree to come along with him, and it was nice to see that his efforts weren’t in vain. Harry honestly thought he’d take the trip by himself and sulk around the pier for a week. He hadn’t thought about what would happen if she actually came along with him, figured he wouldn’t get his hopes up with wishful thinking. 

“That sounds lovely actually.” She sighs, her stomach growling at the mention of food and Harry offers his hand to her before leading her into the kitchen. Lauren ushers him to sit, telling him the least he can do is let her make his plate. They had similar ways of showing their appreciation for each other, though Harry spent way too much money. Lauren liked to do little things for him, pick up a book he hadn’t gotten around to purchasing, unloading his dishwasher every now and again. They were always subtle actions that she didn’t think Harry realized but he always did. It was the way those little thoughtful acts made him feel that had him showering her with gifts and his constant attention. Those things were priceless to him and everything he did was in an effort to repay her. 

He remembered when he moved to Georgia after finishing college and how he felt like it would never feel like home. He had always figured he’d move back to England after school but there were more opportunities in the states for him. The first year was lonely, so he threw himself into his work and made friends that way, but nothing felt quite right. He always felt like a visitor until he met Lauren, she was his roots. Not the job, or his apartment, but her. As he watched her plate his food for him he couldn’t help but smile fondly at his best friend. She didn’t know it, but she was the reason he had stayed in Atlanta for as long as he had. Sure new opportunities had arisen for him in various places, but he only wanted to be wherever she was. 

“Better than home, huh?” She said over a mouthful of food. They had eaten mostly in silence, tired from a long day of traveling. The silence was nice now that Harry wasn’t being forced into it. He nodded while wiping his mouth, chuckling at Lauren’s terrible table manners. “Only by a little, you know how good the food is back home.” He leaned back in his chair, pushing his cleared plate away from him. She nodded in agreement, setting her fork on her own plate and letting out a sigh of content. Harry moved to clear their spots but she stopped him, insisting that she’d do the dishes in just a bit. He frowned at her but she wasn’t budging, grabbing his hand in hers to keep him seated.

 “You can throw away the garbage, but I’ll clean up. Let me, please.” She sighed, knowing that if she let him she’d never lift a finger the whole trip. 

“Deal, but let’s do the tour first then we’ll clean and unpack its getting late.” It was a little after one in the morning and the pair were exhausted. 

Harry kept her hand in his for the entire walk around the house, most excited when he showed her the courtyard, promising her it was more spectacular in the daytime. Lauren was in awe of everything he showed her, thinking that even if they never left this rental home her trip would still be well spent. He watched her choose which room she wanted, chuckling gently when her eyes widened at the size of the master. Complete with an en suite that encompassed a clawfoot tub she almost drooled at, she insisted that Harry take the largest room. Of course, he was prepared for the stubborn conversation that followed and in the end, Lauren’s suitcase was placed at the foot of the bed. She feigned a pout as she unpacked her bags, but Harry could see just how happy she truly was. His room was just across the hall, with an equally spectacular view just sans a patio. Harry didn’t care where he slept as long as she got everything she deserved. 

“Afraid your bed is comfier than mine.” He groaned, pushing his face deeper into the mountain of pillows. 

“Oh don’t start! I told you to take the room.” She stood at the end of the bed with her hands on her hips, a half-folded shirt crumpled in her fist. Harry laughed tiredly, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. 

“M’just kidding, love. I swear a cardboard box would be just as fine right now.” He yawns dramatically, reaching his arms above his head.

“Head on to bed then, H. Know you’re tired.” She hums, putting the last of her things into the dresser. She liked putting her things away even when on vacation, it made her feel slightly more comfortable with staying somewhere that wasn’t home. 

“I should, shouldn’t I?” He sits up and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. She hums and makes her way towards the bathroom to wash her face. “Goodnight, love. I’m right across the hall if you need a cuddle.” He says sleepily. 

Lauren smiles at him through the mirror as he stands behind her, placing a small kiss on the back of her head. “Might take you up on that, I can never sleep well the first night of vacation.” She sighs, rubbing her cleanser into her skin gently. 

“Well if that’s the case I’ll just sleep in here with you tonight. Can’t have you tired on our first day.” He hums. She nods, more excited than she dared to admit out loud about sharing a bed with him. Sure they had plenty of times before after a night out or a hang out that lasted a bit too long. But it had been a long time since the last time.

 “I’ll go get ready for bed, be back in a minute.” She nodded again without a word, finishing up her routine by brushing her teeth. She was slightly happy that she had made it around to do some shopping and had picked up a couple of cute pajama sets.  The thought of wearing her oversized t-shirts on vacation wasn’t all that appealing and nice pajamas were always good to have. 

A few moments later as promised, Harry was snug in her bed waiting for her. It was definitely a sight she could get used to but decided not to think about too much. She tossed her old clothes into her travel hamper that she’d neatly set up in the closet before making her way to the dresser. Harry watched her with curious eyes as she applied lotion to her skin, making a note that she always used that brand before bed, he was sure to buy her more when they got home. He watched as she put her hair up into her bonnet, giggling sleepily at how cute she looked.

 “Literally takes you an hour just to get into bed, come on I’m sleepy.” He whines, sinking deeper into the covers. She laughs, assuring him that she’s almost done. She takes off her rings and places them neatly with the rest of her jewelry before climbing into bed and turning off the bedside lamp. Harry extends his arms to her, willing her to come closer and she obliges, settling softly against his chest. She doesn’t mind when he entwines their legs, twisting their bodies together so it’s hard to tell where his begins and hers ends. 

“So happy you’re here.” He murmurs, his breath tickling at her ear. Lauren’s stomach swarms within itself as he pulls her impossibly closer, fingers tracing aimlessly at her back.

 “Happy to be here.”  

Untangling herself from Harry the next morning was one of the hardest things Lauren feels she has ever had to do. He was so warm and the way he groaned when she pulled away from him almost broke her heart wide open. When she was finally free of his grabby hands and pouty face she shuffled to the bathroom, promising that she’d only be gone for a minute. It was the only thing that the sleepy man would acquiesce, although she knew she wasn’t coming back. It was 8:30 in the morning, far too early for Lauren’s liking, but she was excited to cook in the beautiful kitchen down the hall. After sliding on her slippers she quietly made her way towards the door, looking back to see Harry cuddled up with the pillow she had previously occupied. She smiled softly, closing the door behind her. 

Thirty minutes later, the bacon and eggs were cooking and a mountain of assorted pancakes sat prettily on a plate. Lauren sang along softly to Harry’s playlist as she cooked, carefully scrambling cheese into the eggs so they would be perfect. She had cut up some of the fresh fruit and set it up nicely in a glass bowl, everything waiting on the island to be brought outside. Harry wandered groggily down the hall, the smell of food pulling him out of his sleep. He wasn’t all too pleased when he woke up and Lauren wasn’t beside him. He had slept better than he had in a while last night and was looking forward to waking up with her in his arms. Lauren had felt the same, she wasn’t much of a cuddler and usually liked her space when she shared a bed with someone else, but it was different with Harry. With him, she didn’t feel smothered or overwhelmed, but safe and warm. 

“You didn’t come back.” He pouts when he reaches the kitchen, leaning on the counter beside her. 

She chuckles, removing the eggs from the pan and onto a plate. “Made you breakfast.” She smiles and the pout leaves his lips immediately.

 “I know, woke up to the smell of it. Looks good, bug.” She swats his hand when he cheekily pops a diced pineapple into his mouth.

 “S’just about ready, need your help taking everything outside though.” She says as she takes the bacon out of the oven. He nods and begins to fill his arms carefully. Lauren had already brought the plates and silverware out, along with the orange juice and glasses. She followed Harry outside carrying the eggs and bacon, taking a seat when everything was set up nicely. 

“Thank you for this, I appreciate it.” He says once they’re settled and Lauren is done taking a video for her Instagram story. She sighs around a mouth full of pancakes, wiping her mouth when she swallows. 

“The least I could do, really.” She looks out towards the yard, which was even more beautiful in the daytime. They could see the beach from here, the sun glistening on the ocean, and a breeze wafting the scent through the air. 

“What do you want to do today? Didn’t really plan any activities for us so we can relax.” He shovels a forkful of pancakes into his mouth, fighting the urge to moan at how delicious they were. He always loved her cooking and was grateful that she cooked for him often.

 Lauren shrugs indifferently, “Not really in the mood to go anywhere. I do wanna take a bath in that tub though.” She laughs. 

Harry nods along with a chuckle, knowing that would be her answer. “Guess we could hang out by the pool then, sounds good to me.” 

Lauren had stayed in the bath for longer than she had promised, just as Harry knew she would. She could see him go out to the backyard after about twenty minutes of soaking from the window adjacent to the tub. She watched as he applied sunscreen and laid out for a while, and knew it would only be a matter of time before he was knocking on her door because he was lonesome. Just as she predicted, five minutes later he rose from his chair and sulked inside. Lauren couldn’t fight the laugh as she rose from the tub, stepping out carefully. After drying off and putting her robe on she opens the door only to find him standing there, a pout on his rosy lips.

 “I know, I know. I’m coming, sugar.” She breathes, chuckling at his sorry expression. This only makes his frown deepen, moving to the side as she steps into the bedroom. “I saw you out there, looked miserable.” Harry sits on the bed and she opens the dresser to find a suit, pulling out two before tossing the other back into the drawer.

 “Always miserable without you.” He picks aimlessly at the comforter before twisting his rings around his fingers.

 “You’re a whiny little thing, aren’t you?” She chastises him in a feeble attempt to not dwell on his words for too long. She was used to his behavior, knew how vocal he always was about the way he felt. But she was not used to hearing it constantly like she was, and it was becoming more and more difficult to pass it off for just friendly banter. They’d never spent more than 24 hours together, mostly Lauren’s own doing,  and it was becoming easy to think he meant the things he said differently than she thought he had. It was nice to play pretend for a while, but she knew better than that. Nothing good would come out of fantasizing over someone she couldn’t have. 

“Only when you take too long, bug.” Lauren shakes her head at him and goes to the bathroom to change, purposely putting a noticeable pep in her step. Harry laughs behind her, falling back to lay against the covers of the unmade bed. She had reprimanded him for that earlier, but neither of them had made any efforts to fix it. 

When he sits up again his throat goes completely dry at the sight of her in her yellow bikini. He didn’t know much about women’s swimsuits, but he was certain this one was made for her. Unconsciously, he licks his bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth with his teeth as she rubs some sunscreen into her skin. He had seen her in a bathing suit plenty of times before, but that was before he’d fully come to terms with the way he felt about her. She always looked good no matter what she had on and he always was sure to tell her, even before she was the sun, the moon, and the stars to him. 

“S’that new?” He said, shifting to rest with his hand behind him. 

“Yeah, got it before we left. Do you like it?” She does a turn for him and he almost wishes she hadn’t. Her figure was full, hips and an ass to match. Her stomach had some give to it, creating a pudge that she always tried to hide.

 Harry has to manually close his mouth before he responds, shifting in his seat. “You look gorgeous.” He smiles. He lets his eyes rake over her for longer than would be appropriate, but she doesn’t mind. Truthfully, Lauren had bought the suit with him in mind even against her better judgment. She was a bit nervous when she had tried it on because it wasn’t a suit that would hide some of her insecurities. She never liked the way her thighs would jiggle and her behind would shake as she moved, but she knew she didn’t have to worry about those things while around Harry. He always made her feel good about herself and slowly but surely she’d come to agree with him. It was a cruel thing to do to herself, and Harry, but she was enjoying his reaction.

 “Thanks, we match.” She giggles, gesturing to his yellow trunks. He smiles a dimpled smile at her, standing up from the bed and towering over her.

 “I don’t look half as good as you do though.” He compliments her again, unsure if he’s capable of keeping his eyes off of her. 

She’s thankful for the melanin in her skin that hides her blush as she eyes her reflection in the wall mirror. Harry stands behind her, taking in their appearance. He liked that they were matching, however cheesy it was. He pulls his phone from his pocket and opens the camera, grabbing Lauren’s hip to pull her closer. The first few were regular vacation pics. It was when Harry bent down to place his lips to her cheek, that things took a different turn. Lauren was caught off guard, the smile on her face becoming genuine and one of her hands holds his cheek while the other is placed over his at her hip. Harry snaps a few shots, letting his touch linger before pulling away. They review the pictures together and once Lauren has decided on a favorite, Harry sets it as his lock screen. Her smile was wide, her eyes shut as he kissed her cheek. She was a perfect ray of sunshine and now he could be reminded of it every day. 

“Oh, I forgot my sunnies.” She frowns as she digs through her bag again. 

“Got them right here, love. Left them on the dresser.” He sits in the lounger next to her and pulls his own sunglasses over his eyes.

 “You’re an angel.” She thanks him, putting on the frames and chasing the glare of the sun away. She’d made them Piña Coladas and they sipped idly to beat the heat.

 The warmth was welcomed though, Lauren practically lived outside during the nicer months back home. It was nice to feel a warmth only the sun could provide. They laid in silence for the most part, Lauren’s mind adrift and Harry’s as well. She thought about the girls back home and how they were doing, and Harry mostly thought about her. He thought about ways to finally tell her, he thought about what the consequences of those actions may be. He thought about ways to make it so obvious that she couldn’t deny it any longer. Mostly he thought about a scenario in which she loved him back. That one was always the easiest to fall into and hurt way less so he stayed there. In this scenario, she couldn’t rip his heart out with rejection. In this one, she was there at home waiting for him, he was picking her up from work, they shared meals, they slept in the same bed every night. Even though they were sitting a few feet apart, he felt as if she was miles away from him. It was always like this and he wished that things were different. He wished for a life where she would let herself be, where she would let herself be happy. He knew more than anyone just how deserving she was of it, and he wished that she’d let him be that for her. 

“Come swim with me.” He beckons when his thoughts become too much. He tries not to focus too much on the way her skin glows under the sun, her complexion radiant as if she were its favorite.

 She groans as she sits up, and Harry extends his hand to her pulling her from her chair. He doesn’t let her hand go as they move towards the pool step, and Lauren uses him for stability as she tests the water with her foot. It takes her a minute before she adjusts to the water, and Harry follows behind happily once she’s in. He sings along to the music playing from the speaker as Lauren floats around on her back. She wishes there was a float or something so she could still catch some rays, and makes a mental note to stop by a shop tomorrow. The sound of seagulls and Harry’s voice relaxes her to a place where she feels likes she’s floating in a perfect nirvana. The atmosphere he’d created for them just what she desperately needed but would never ask for aloud. Harry swims closer to her when he becomes bored, calling her name softly to not startle her. She hums in response, blinking her eyes open behind her sunglasses, and sits up so she can tread water. 

“What do you think about going out tonight? I’ve got some friends here and they wanna meet up for some drinks.” He pulls her closer to him by her wrist, dragging her to the shallow end and into his arms. She holds onto his forearms as she contemplates his question, mostly thinking of what she brought to wear.

 She nods, “Would love to.” He smiles down at her and places a small kiss on her forehead. 

“Then tomorrow we can head to the beach - the best cure for a hangover.” He smiles softly and she rolls her eyes.

 “Plan on getting me drunk, Styles?” She splashes some water up at him and he chuckles, pulling her closer to his chest to stop her assault. 

“Just a little bit.” 

***

For the first time in forever, Lauren is grateful that she over packed. She had thrown more than a couple of evening outfits into her suitcase just in case they went out to dinner or frequented a bar for the week. She ditched all the blouses and things alike at home and opted to bring more revealing outfits because of the weather. The skirt she picks out is a pretty shade of blue and spandex material with a matching cropped top. She was also grateful she brought her comfy white shoes with the thick heel and open toe. They were her favorite shoes to go out in and were easy to dress up. They made her short legs look longer, and she always felt her best when she put them on. After doing her makeup she dresses, the slit up the side of her skirt adds the perfect amount of sex appeal and she feels she has never looked better. 

She walks into the kitchen to find Harry sitting at the island. He looks away from his phone when he hears the sound of her heels clicking against the hardwood, and he swallows harshly when she comes into view. He himself was wearing cream slacks with a t-shirt tucked into them. His hair was pushed away from his face the way Lauren adored, he always looked much younger when he did that. He lets his eyes rake over her as she stands beside him now and her eyes watch him in bemusement. 

“Y’look gorgeous.” He sighs, licking over his bottom lip when his eyes meet hers again and she smiles gently at him, giving him a spin as always. She mutters her appreciation and Harry pulls her closer to him, holding her at arm’s length to truly admire her. Innocent giggles fall from her full lips as he repeatedly tells her just how good she looks. He couldn’t help but notice how the material hugged every curve she had, the slit on the side showcasing her thick thighs that had Harry near drooling. Her ass is damn near perfect and her heels do wonders for her legs, and Harry knows that this might be one of the longest nights of his life.  Lauren falls to his chest, hiding her face in his shirt, and he places a gentle kiss on the top of her head. 

“Car will be here in just a minute, lovie.” 

The bar was more of a club and when the Uber drops the pair off, Harry grabs a hold of Lauren’s hand, bypassing the line towards the bouncer. Lauren wasn’t sure what his plan was but is pleasantly surprised when the bouncer gives Harry a nod and moves to let them through. Lauren can’t help but move along to the music as Harry leads the way through a crowd of people. The scene brings her back to her college days when fun was expected on every weekend and most weekdays. She admittedly missed going out and dancing, and was grateful that Harry brought her here.

 They make their way to a booth where two other men are sitting, and they jump up as soon as they catch sight of Harry. They’re all jeers and hellos as they embrace and Lauren hangs back for a moment. Harry turns quickly, tugging her closer to his side as he introduces her. Harry had known these guys from college and would visit California often to see them. They were just as attractive as Lauren was expecting, all of Harry’s friends were. Micah was tall, a fade cut, and wearing a suit that seemed very expensive. His smile was warm and inviting, he seemed clean and sharp around the edges. His skin was deep and rich, he was fine. Seth was more on the leaner side, towering over both Harry and Micah. His blonde hair was curly and long, stopping at his shoulders. He too had a perfect smile and a deep charming voice that had nearly knocked Lauren off her feet when he greeted her. She thought quickly that these men would be fun to flirt with, but the idea was gone as soon as it came when she noticed the wedding bands on each of their fingers. 

 They sit at the booth for a while and conversation is easy as Harry gushes about Lauren and all that she was doing. Harry stands to order another drink for each of them once their’s expires, leaving with a kiss on her temple and a promise to only be gone for a minute. The two men share a knowing smirk behind their glasses unbeknownst to Lauren.

 “He never shuts up about you, hasn’t in years.” Seth smiles politely and Lauren grins bashfully.

 “He gets a little excited sometimes, yes.” She shifts in her seat, itching to get on the dancefloor. 

The men chuckle and Micah swishes the content of his glass around. It was very clear to them that Harry still hadn’t made any advances and it was also obvious that Lauren felt the same way that he did. Harry returns just as Lauren is finishing up telling the guys about her life growing up in Georgia. He slides in with a grin, placing his arm around Lauren’s shoulders and pulling her close to his side.

 “Hope these two haven’t bored you half to death, love.” He pushes her drink towards her and she swats at him.

 “Better company than you, I think.” She smirks, pulling her drink to her lips. Harry clutches at his chest in fake hurt and his friends laugh.

 “She’s just as brilliant as we expected. Feel like we’re in the company of royalty with the way you go on about her.” Micah and Seth are all grins as Harry tries to fight the blush from creeping up his neck. Of course, his mates knew just how bad he had it for her and he should’ve known that they wouldn’t let this be easy.

 “What can I say?” He exasperates, “She’s just that perfect.” His hand finds Lauren’s thigh as he chuckles beside himself and she leans into him with a soft smile. 

They go on like that for a while and their glasses remain full. Lauren can feel the effects of the alcohol she’s consumed and she listens in quietly as the men talk business. She was beginning to grow impatient with every song that passed, wanting to release her new energy on the dance floor. Her hand finds Harry’s at her thigh and she places it over his. He gives her a gentle squeeze and she hums, toying with his fingers. She fiddles with his rings for a while, and Harry looks down at her when the conversation slows.

 “Y’alright, love?” He hums into her ear and she nods, glassy eyes looking up to find his. 

“Wanna dance.” She harrumphs, taking a slow sip of her drink. Harry lets a small laugh fall from his lips, nudging her head with his nose.

 “In a minute, yeah? Need to be nice and drunk for tha’.” She giggles drunkenly at that, and he squeezes her thigh again. “I’ll order some shots for us.” Harry announces to the table, “ This one wants to dance.” Lauren lets her head roll back onto her shoulders as she laughs. She downs the contents of her glass and dances in her seat when he returns. Harry does the shots fast, making a face when he finishes and Lauren giggles some more as Micah and Seth begin their banter. 

Soon enough, Harry’s vision is cloudy and he feels the warmness in his chest engulfing him and he bids his friends good night when they decline the offer to join them. He’s pulling Lauren to the dance floor when he hears a song he particularly likes and she follows behind with a giggle, shaking her hips as she holds tightly onto his hand. They form a sort of circle as they move to the beat, the alcohol making their moves slightly untimely. Lauren finds herself gravitating towards Harry, and his hands reach for her hips to pull her towards his chest. She closes her eyes as she moves to the music, her head tipped back as she holds on to his shoulder. One of his legs is brought between her two as she rocks her hips, his breathing is heavy as he watches her. Their chests are pushed together as she sings along to the lyrics, allowing herself to let loose for a moment. He rocks his body into hers, matching her slow movements. Her hand finds the side of his neck after a few songs, tugging him closer to be heard over the loud music. 

“I’m gonna go get another drink!” She shouts. Her inebriated mind allows her to let her lips linger for a moment and she doesn’t move away when he pulls back to look at her.

 “I’ll get it, ‘ve got a tab open!” He leaves a lingering kiss behind her ear before they part and she’s left to dance by herself. Lauren didn’t mind dancing alone and lifts an arm over her head as her feet carry her side to side. 

 When warm hands hold her hips again, she doesn’t think twice as she dances. She falls back against his chest, moving her hips against him. They rock from side to side for a while, until he’s gripping at her thighs and whispering into her ear.

 “Let’s go take this elsewhere.” He groans and Lauren jumps away from the unsuspecting partner. 

The man is, in fact, not Harry, rather Harry is moving his way through the crowd towards the pair. He watches the interaction as he comes closer, nudging strangers slightly. The guy is whispering into her ear and Lauren is shaking her head profusely denying his advances. The look on the man’s face is one of frustration as he throws his arms around to argue his case. Lauren takes a step back and gestures to Harry when he’s in her view.

 “Think I’ll take it from here!” He shouts, nodding in the direction of where the man should go and Lauren takes her drink gratefully. The man scoffs, muttering to himself as he leaves. Harry pulls Lauren back against his chest, bending down to speak into her ear. 

“Should’ve known better than t’leave you by yourself! M’sorry, love.” She hums at the sound of his voice, a shiver raking down her spine. 

Harry doesn’t like the feeling of jealousy that resides in his chest. Doesn’t like the idea that another had their hands on her, and he knows that it’s irrational to think this way, but he can’t seem to help it. He grips her hips tighter in his hands as she dances against him after telling him to forget about it. But he can’t seem to forget it, his empty hand runs along her side as he brings his face to the side of her neck. She extends her neck and he breathes her in, his nose dragging along the sticky skin. Her hand tangled in his hair and she slows her movements, dipping their bodies slowly as she continues to move her hips.

 “You’re so gorgeous.” He groans into her ear, drunkenly kissing at the skin on her neck. She breathes in sharply, her eyes fluttering closed as he squeezes at her thigh. 

She rolls her head to the side in search of his eyes, and he leans his forehead against hers. His drunken eyes are hooded and he can’t seem to look away from her parted mouth. She brings her drink up to her mouth as they continue to move, sipping the rest of it through the straw. Her inhibitions were low enough to let whatever should happen, happen and she couldn’t say that she would mind if they had. He turns her around in his arms and brings his leg back between hers. He drops his face near hers, his breath fanning over her lips. She bites her bottom lip and places her forehead on his as she whines to the music. His lips find her ear again and they brush over her skin when his head sways slightly. He pulls her closer to him by the small of her back, and he can just barely feel the heat of her center against his thigh. 

Lauren’s mind is borderline incoherent from the alcohol and the way Harry was lighting a fire within her. Sure she had danced with many guys in her past, but this was intimate. The way he was grasping at her fleshy hips, beckoning her impossibly closer, this felt personal. He just couldn’t seem to get enough of her and didn’t know how much longer he’d have her this close. His fuzzy mind was telling him to go for it, and the option didn’t look that bad at the moment.

 “So fuckin’ pretty.” He says into her ear, and Lauren bites back a whimper. She’s gripping at his shirt desperately and he brings his face back to hers, nudging her nose with his own. She lifts her chin slightly, begging him to go on and his eyes watch her. Hooded eyes, parted lips, she was totally blissed out and he’d be damned if he missed his moment. 

He takes it. Slowly at first, lips grazing over hers hesitantly. She sighs into his mouth when his lips fully encase hers, soft and supple. They pull apart slowly after the first peck, eyes peering at each other partly in disbelief. Their attention is elsewhere than the club they were standing in, moving too slow for the pace of the music. His hand holds the side of her face as she leans up to look at him. Harry chases her lips again, closing over her bottom lip and tugging. Her fingers entangle in his hair to hold him to her and she presses her chest to his. Their kisses remain slow like their thoughts, pulling at the other’s flesh as eyes pry open slightly. Lauren takes the initiative and tugs at his hair gently, sliding her tongue into his mouth when he gasps. He groans into her mouth, his body alight with a fire he could feel burning through his being. She caresses her tongue over his languidly, pulling kiss after kiss from him. Harry pulls away and captures her bottom lip, kissing at it. 

“Let’s go home.” He breathes into her ear and she nods, slipping her hand through his. 

The Uber ride is all stolen glances and soft touches, an unspoken thing lingering in the air around them. As soon as they’re through the door Harry is kissing down her neck from behind. Lauren hums, falling into his chest as her hand still holds onto his.

 “Let’s get ready for bed, yeah?” He mutters against her skin before releasing her and heading down the hall. 

Lauren stands in her spot, astonished at his behavior but follows him anyway. He turns into his room without a word and she goes to her own, collapsing onto the bed. Her mind runs in circles when she closes her eyes, and she can’t bring herself to change her clothes. The heels alone needed to be unbuckled and she didn’t think she had the dexterity for that. Harry comes in after a few moments and chuckles at the sight of her.

 “Supposed to be getting ready for bed, love.” He teases, sitting on the floor and grabbing her ankle. She sits up to watch him, leaning on her elbows as he places the heel of her shoe on his shoulder. He kisses at her soft skin on her ankle as his fingers undo the belt, massaging at the sore skin when the shoe is placed on the ground. Lauren groans audibly at the feeling, letting her head hang back as he continues. When the other shoe is pulled off he places her pajamas on the bathroom counter. Lauren takes her time changing and washing her makeup off, mentally preparing herself for what might happen. She giggles to herself at the thought that this was actually happening. She wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or not, but her mind had already convinced her that this was what she wanted. She doesn’t focus on the complications of what they’d started, her mind swims with unreasonable thoughts and she can’t seem to identify all the flashing warnings that she’d worked so hard on maintaining. Her rule was to never mix business with pleasure, and if she was being honest, the business aspect of their relationship had dwindled away so long ago. Now Harry was her favorite friend, her favorite soul, and she should take advantage of the opportunity. 

When she comes out of the bathroom, Harry is sat on the end of the bed, fiddling with his rings. He looks up at the sound of the door opening and stands, making his way towards her. He grabs her hand when he’s close enough, and pulls her to him, spinning her so her back is to his chest. A loud giggle falls from her lips as he sways them side to side, planting small kisses to her cheeks.

 “Ready for bed, love?” He hums, raking his fingers up her side. Her satin tank lifts slightly as he goes on and a shiver rolls through her, all she can manage is a nod. She puts her hair into her bonnet before climbing into bed, and his hands are on her again like they never left. Harry’s mind warns him to stop but he can’t seem to and he’s rolling over her and burying his head into her neck. She whimpers as he sucks on the skin, not enough to leave a mark but she’s gripping his hair nonetheless.

 “Completely adore you, bug.” He murmurs against her jaw, pressing soft kisses to her skin. A small whimper leaves her lips and her eyes are hooded. She pulls him closer so their chests are touching, and turns her head to find his eyes. He nudges her nose with his, smiling slightly as she croons. When their lips meet he’s humming contentedly into her mouth. Hands grab at her hips, squeezing in anticipation, and her jaw unhinges enough for him to slide his tongue inside. Lauren rolls them over then, straddling one of his thighs as he lays against the pillows. Their kiss is patient as she hovers over him, her forearms resting beside his head and fingers tangle into his hair. A cheeky hand finds its way to her behind, groping a handful and pulling her up against his thigh. Their lips part when she gasps, her head hanging backward on her neck. Harry smiles to himself at the perfect vision before him, humming when his lips kiss right underneath her chin. She looks down at him through glossy eyes, pressing her hands to his bare chest as she moves over his thigh. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and places his hands around her wrists as she works herself against him.

 “Such a dream.” He says. His words string together slower than usual, and if she weren’t privy to his drunken dialect, she’d have missed it completely. She bends down to place her forehead to his, kissing at his nose softly and his eyes flutter closed.

 “So pretty.” She murmurs and moves to place her head into the crook of his neck, placing small pecks to the skin there. Lauren relaxes as his fingers trace patterns on her back and the world spins when she closes her eyes for too long. “M’so smashed.” She sighs, a giggle follows and Harry can’t help but laugh along with her. He rolls her off of him and leans on his side. His fingers graze at her cheek and she hums, nuzzling into his touch. 

“Kiss me.” She whispers, her eyes peering at him through her lashes. He doesn’t hesitate to move in, placing his lips over hers gently. He can feel her sigh against his mouth, chasing his lips when he moves away. He watches as her face contorts with frustration and he kisses her again, even softer this time. 

“Quite like kissing you.” His voice is below a whisper and she doesn’t think he meant to say it aloud. Her stomach swarms at his confession and she pulls her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth to fight a smile.

 “Won’t last long.” She sighs, slotting her lips against his once more. He licks into her mouth, swirling his tongue over hers, and huffs into her. 

“What do you mean, pet?” His brows furrow and she’s chasing after him again, pressing a hand to his chest when he comes back to her. 

“Have to forget about it tomorrow.” She sighs against his mouth, jaw hanging slack when he grabs at her ass again. 

“And why’s that?” His teeth bite at her chin as he pulls her against him, eating up every whimper that falls from her sweet mouth. A particularly loud moan of his name has his eyes rolling back to his head, and his ego inflating. Praise from her was the only thing he ever cared about, it was all he ever thought about, and all his actions were done to please her. He loved her, way more than he thinks she loves him and he’s okay with that. He has no other option but to be. 

“Because we’re just friends.” She breathes behind a moan and Harry doesn’t believe her for a second.

 Friends don’t resist each other the way these two have been. There would be no reason to if they were truly just friends. She wouldn’t be melting into his touch, whimpering his name, tracing his tattoos when she thought he didn’t notice. He always noticed. He noticed the way she’d visibly relax when he hugged her, how her eyes averted his gaze when he complimented her. It was why he allowed her to steal his every breath, and consume his every thought. She was into him, and even though she fought it as hard as she could, she wasn’t fooling him. 

“Best friends.” He ruts his hips into her, watching her eyes roll to the back of her head, and he kisses her cheek gently. Her hazy mind pleads with her to stop things, put a pin in them before they can’t take them back. She was her own worst enemy, sacrificing her own happiness for the sake of stability. There was no reason valid enough for her to deny him, but there she was, pushing against his chest and tugging his heart out in the same motion. 

“We’re drunk.” She deadpans. Harry huffs, pulling her closer to him by her hip.

 “Have been for a while now, sweetheart.” His lips search for hers and she succumbs, slipping her fingers through his hair. 

She groans as his mouth works against hers. He tilts his head and she follows until he’s hovering over her. He liked to be in control, he didn’t like the bullshit that she was spewing at him, and this was certain to shut her up. Lauren had never been kissed like this in her life, and she can’t remember the last time she had spent this long just making out. In a way, she wishes she were sober, coherent enough to reminisce on this correctly in the future. She would be lucky if she could remember at all, and in some ways, she hopes she forgets. 

“Harry,” She whines when their lips part for a second and he licks at the corner of her mouth before pushing his tongue inside once more. His forearm finds the pillow on the other side of her head, and Lauren is wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“Keep whinin’ my name like tha’ and I’ll make sure you won’t be able to forget this.” He smirks against her mouth. She whimpers, nails scratching at his scalp. She’s pulling him closer to her, needing the weight of him to remind her of her reality. Though she wasn’t sold that it was a reality she would like to keep, she was certain that she would love him even more tomorrow. 

“Jus’ gonna kiss you to sleep I think.” He hums, slowing their pace down and remaining in control. 

This was the only time he was calling the shots when it came to Lauren, and he was gonna seize the moment in case it never came again. The alcohol in his veins makes his movements sloppy, leaving a trail of himself across her chin. She doesn’t mind, quite liked the desperateness of it all. He’s all teeth as he pulls at her bottom lip, releasing it to watch as it snaps back into place. He admires the way her drooping eyes watch him and he’s sure to put on a show for her. They’re quickly learning what the other liked and Harry silently prays he doesn’t remember this because he's sure the flashbacks would haunt him. He kisses her again, pulling away quickly to watch how her chin chases after him. Her lips are parted as he toys with her, nibbling and suckling as he pleases. Her breathing is slow as their lips move together, relaxation engulfing her. Small whimpers and moans fall from their lips as he continues, wandering hands familiarize themselves. When their kisses begin to slow he rolls them over so her head is tucked into his neck. All she can manage is a quiet hum and he shushes her, fingers tracing over her back. 

***

Harry wakes before her, the sun streaming through the patio doors, bringing him to consciousness. Memories from the previous night flood his mind and he’s pulling Lauren closer to him. He remembers her hesitation, the way she had told him to forget the whole thing. He brings his arm up over his eyes, a headache pounding at his temples, and the mess he had created for himself wasn’t helping by any means. He breathes in her scent as she sleeps, dreading the moment her eyes open and the same realization floods her memory. Harry can’t decide what he would even say to her. Should he confess or act like he didn’t remember as she’d wanted? He wanted to bring it up to figure out why she had pushed him away the way she had. It hadn’t then, but it hurt to think about now. Rejection wasn’t something he experienced often, but it was still his biggest insecurity when it came to her. It was the reason why he had kept his feelings at bay for so long, and now he had gone and ruined everything they’d built. But it wasn’t as if she had rejected him because she hadn’t felt the same, she seemed pretty into it last night. But things always change when inhibitions are back in place, and the sun shines through the light of day. He decides that should she remember he’d tell her and if she doesn’t he’d redo it sober another time. Either way, if she doesn’t bring it up, neither will he. 

The task is easier said than done, he’s nervous all through breakfast and as they pack for the beach he can’t help but stare at her. There was no possible way that she didn’t remember and if she had chosen to put their actions in the past, she was doing too good of a job. Lauren almost wishes she had forgotten, but Harry seemed to be playing it cool so she would too. She figured things would be easier this way, no one would get hurt and their relationship wouldn’t change. Except it had, and Harry was hurting far more than he would care to admit. She continues to pack their cooler and ignore his watchful gaze. It was hard enough to try to misplace the memory of his hands gripping her thighs, or the way he’d said her name. She tried not to dwell on the way her body fit so perfectly against his like they were made for each other. Or the way he kissed her like his life depended on it. But she wasn’t going to speak about it unless he had, just like she asked of him. Now that she thought about it, it was a stupid thing to ask of him, but she knew it would be for the best. 

“Can you grab the sandwiches out the fridge, bub?” She asks, pulling her focus away from her thoughts. Harry turns towards the fridge without a word, tossing the sandwiches onto the counter before walking down the hall. 

She pushes the air out of her lungs and stops her actions once she hears his door slam shut. He remembered, and he was pissed.  He sighs to himself as he changes into his swim trunks. He thought the whole thing was just stupid and childish. He knows that she knows, and the way she could remain so nonchalant about it was bothering him. Was that all he meant to her, was he that easy discardable, had he misread their entire relationship? He knew he had fallen for her and he liked to think that she had too, but had she no feelings for him at all? Maybe she had meant what she said. That they were “just friends”. His stomach is uneasy and he doesn’t think that he can bring himself to face her. He needed a minute to calm the tempest in his mind, but he knew that wouldn’t happen with her in the room right across the hall. 

“Are you upset with me?” Lauren asks after they’ve been sitting on the beach for close to two hours and the conversation is nonexistent. 

They had barely spoken when he emerged from his room, only offering one-word answers to her feeble attempts at conversation. Their walk down to the shore was silent as he carried their bags and she pulled the cooler. She tried to not draw attention to it, to move on in the way that she knew that they should, but he was making it difficult.

 “At you? No. At myself? Yes.” He says. Sunglasses cover his eyes and he doesn’t so much as glance at her. She huffs as she grows agitated with him, flipping onto her stomach to look at him better. 

“We can eat lunch and talk if you’d like?” She offers. It seems that the only way out of this was through it and since Harry wouldn’t let her forget, she’d have to suck it up and have the conversation. 

“You told me to forget about it, so that’s what I’m fucking doing.” He doesn’t mean for the words to sound as harsh as they had, and he regrets them as soon as they leave his mouth. It was probably best to talk about what had happened, but she had let him sit for too long, and his thoughts had gone from upset to angry. He doesn’t apologize and fights the urge to look at her when he sees her moving from the corner of his eye. 

“Well, you’re doing a terrible job.” She bites as she sits up on the blanket. He looks at her then, a scowl etching its way onto his lips, and his temper rising. 

 “I’m so sorry I won’t discuss my feelings for you on some crowded public beach, Lauren.” His smile is mean, and she has never hated the way her name sounds coming from his mouth more. He seldomly called her by her name, always opting to use pet names or nicknames instead. She can’t seem to focus on anything else but the way he had said it. He had said it with such distaste, and the stupid smirk on his lips makes her blood boil. 

“So I’m ‘Lauren’ now?” Her voice is just barely audible and even though he can physically feel his heart ripping in half, and can’t seem to stop. He keeps his eyes towards the sky, knowing that if he does look at her, he’ll be putty in her hands. That was exactly what he was trying to put an end to. The way she so effortlessly had played with his feelings, toyed with his heart, and threw it to the side when she didn’t want to play anymore. She had hurt him worse than any woman ever had, and he wanted her to feel miserable along with him. 

“That’s how friends call each other, right? By their names?” He swallows roughly, closing his eyes as his skin heats under the sun. He can’t see her, but she’s shoving her things into her bag, making way for a quick exit. And before he even realizes it, she’s leaving him there and walking back to the house without another word.

 Lauren could count the number of times he had been upset with her on her hands and never had he gone so far as to be purposefully mean. She didn’t know how to deal with him when he was like this, and she was upset that it had even gotten to this point. In her eyes, Harry had no reason to be upset with her, not to the point where he was being mean, anyway. Sure she can admit that asking him to put what they had done behind them was a stupid, drunken mistake. In an effort to protect her own heart she had damaged his and she felt awful. But that was no excuse for Harry’s childish behavior. 

As she treks up the sandy walkway to their home his words bounce against the forefront of her mind. Behind his snarky smile, he had admitted that he did have some sort of feelings for her and she could pretend no longer that she had no clue what they were. She had spent so long convincing herself that she couldn’t be with him and had missed the signs that he was falling for her. All the walls she had set up to protect herself he’d effortlessly pummelled through, and had never given her reason to believe that she couldn’t trust him with her heart. She had been so blind to the way he had changed around her. The way it was so effortless to be with him, and the way that neither of them had any other love interest over the past two years. Lauren had always contributed that to their busy work lives, but it was time for her to be honest. The only other person she ever made time for was Harry and vice versa. The only person she ever dared to consider beyond herself was him. He was the first person she shared any exciting news with and the last person she talked to before she went to sleep at night. And as much as she would like to believe that she had kept it platonic, her actions showed a completely different Lauren. She was having her cake and eating it too, without the consideration of Harry’s feelings. 

She sheds her things by the front door before retiring to her room for a bath. As she strips down she tries to rid her mind of all the times she should’ve made her intentions clear. But at the same time, her intentions were a reflection of what she really wanted from their relationship. She could admit to herself that she was in love with him, but when it came down to owning up to it, she was as lost as a teenager doing this for the first time. And in a way, it was her first time. She had never felt anything as intensely as she did when she was with Harry. She’d never suppressed her feelings this way. She was used to getting what she wanted and not caring about the consequences, but this consequence she felt everywhere. 

Tears sting at her eyes as she soaks in the bubbles. Here she was sitting in a damn Airbnb on a trip that was perfectly planned and tailored to her liking, and she didn’t even have to ask for it. Harry had shown her time and time again just how much he cared about her and she told him to forget her in a moment that should’ve brought them together. It was selfish the game she was playing. Everything was on her terms. And even though she hadn’t meant for things to turn out this way, she supposes this is the way they’d been heading for a long time.  They were both stupid. Stupid in a way that they’d tiptoe around their feelings for each other, taking whatever the other would offer and writing it off as a friendship. 

The water isn’t warm enough to melt away the sinking feeling in her stomach. She knows she’s fucked up bad this time and doesn’t know how she could fix it. She could blame her drunken actions, but that wouldn’t dismiss the way they’d handled each other today. And of course, she knew that she’d bring it up somehow today, she was figuring a way to slip it into their non-existent conversation. She’d never be able to simply forget it and she knew that. She knew that when she’d woken up and his arms weren’t around her and she could still feel the indent of his fingers against her skin. God did she love the way he touched her. She loved how quickly he’d got her to fall deeper into his embrace, succumbing to his hands and turning her brain to mush. She supposes she liked that the most. The way she felt as if all the planets had aligned perfectly when his hands were on her body. Or the fact that said fingers had touched her everywhere except where she had needed him most. She was no stranger to his teasing, was privy to the mischievous glint in his eye when he had something up his sleeve. And she should’ve known better than to think that it wouldn’t follow him into the bedroom. Lauren is almost agitated with herself for not exploring that side of him a little more.

Not to overlook the way he had known exactly what to say, exactly where to touch to have her rendered breathless. Putty in his hands ready to accept the outcome of her fate. She had taken advantage of that when the time was so fleeting. Though she knew their situation was less about fault and more about their lack of communication, it was hard to not feel some sort of guilt. She was upset because she had unintentionally made Harry upset, and she often took pride in the way she knew how to please him. She was always the one to make sure he was having just as good of a time as she was, especially when she drags him along to do something she particularly likes. She knows just how fidgety he can be, and the seemingly mundane tasks that brought her joy would offer Harry anything but. But he always stuck them out, reassuring her that any time spent with her was time well spent. She likes to think that they do that for each other, checking on the other when brought outside of their comfort zone. There was something simple about their relationship. Something that had just come so easy. Lauren supposes that is what had made it so difficult to grasp what it was. 

She can remember the fear that she had felt when her gaze had lingered on his naked chest for a second too long and she felt the butterflies erupt in her belly. At that point Harry had become like family, the initial shock of attraction had dwindled long before. She had figured that it was just lust anyhow and would subside the way those first feelings had. Except these feelings were nothing like the kind when you run into a cute guy at the grocery store. The way she had looked at him now had stemmed from her learning who Harry truly was. And once she had learned to love him because of all the attributes that made him who he is it was game over. She loved the way he rubbed at his nose when he was trying to make his words sound perfect. She liked the way he could be so calculated but so lax at the same time. She adored the way he thought of her opinion and considered her at times she’d liked to believe she would consider him as well. They had gotten along so well and she didn’t want to worry her mind with attachments and emotions. However, in that time she’d spent convincing herself that she couldn’t, she certainly had.  

In some ways, she likes to blame Harry for the way she had dismissed his advances. It wasn’t as if the writing on the wall was so plain, after all. She supposes that if he hadn’t been so damn charming to anyone that had the pleasure of being in his presence for more than fifteen minutes, she’d be able to think more clearly. On one hand sure, the man who plans a detailed vacation has it bad for you. But on the other, that same man could light up the world and empty their pockets with so much as a smile. He was kind and thoughtful, and just good. Too good. The kind of good that makes you believe that your feelings that would undoubtedly bloom have sourced from delusion. And the months that Lauren had spent arguing with herself that he would do these things for anyone who so much as asked were exhausting. In that exhaustion, she had failed to make the rather impressive connection that she hadn’t asked. Harry had considered her and did for her simply because he wanted to. But when your pessimistic mind is so bent on making you believe one thing, the latter is easy to miss. 

She doesn’t move from her spot in the alcove when she hears the front door open then close. The sound of the plastic wheels of their cooler rolling against the hardwood floors isn’t enough to turn her head, but it’s enough for her focus to be lost from her novel. She stares at the pages, the black ink swirling and becoming one haunting picture, wishing she could make herself small. He hasn’t noticed her presence yet and she can’t gauge his mood when his back is turned to her. Still shirtless, she notices the way his muscles move beneath his skin as he puts their uneaten food into the fridge. The extra sighs and huffs of frustration aren’t lost on her either, and for a second she fights herself from getting up and lending a hand. She remains stationary, though, her fingers flicking the dog-eared page. She’d read the novel more times than she could count, the one she holds now is her second copy. It’s the one Harry had surprised her with one Valentine’s Day after her’s had all but disintegrated from the seams. He claimed the holiday was a minor convenience of presenting it to her, but Lauren let the romance of it all cloud her mind in a Harry-filled fog. She took better care of this copy, always kissing her teeth when her old habits of folding the pages would surface. The note he had left in the cover, however, had melted her down to the bone and she swore she’d make this copy last forever. 

For the sweetest girl with the heaviest touch, be gentle. H. 

Admittedly for Harry, the few words he had scribbled into the paperback had far more meaning than what she’d figured. She’d touched his heart and transitioned his life. Her influence was just that. Heavy. Almost so heavy that at times he found himself wondering if he was wasting his “good years” pining after a girl who had no interest. He was savvy that way, leaving hints and tips that his heart burned for her, and almost every time feeling sour when things hadn’t changed. He wanted her to be more gentle with him. He at the time was still new to the way he felt about her, constantly thinking of ways to make it obvious. But obvious for Harry wasn’t obvious for anyone else. At least not to a girl who had convinced herself otherwise. He wasn’t so used to the uneasy feeling that swarmed his stomach when she went out on a date. Wasn’t accustomed to the way his heart would race when her fingers would dance along his shoulders. And he certainly wasn’t privy to the way he seemed to have lost all logical thinking when it came to her. Truth be told he’d give an arm and a leg just to see her smile but now that he could recognize how he felt towards her, that had gone beyond sensibility. He needed her to be gentle with him, to not shatter his heart because he knew he’d never recover. 

Lauren is pulled out of her reverie, fingers still stroking the pages of her book as she reminisces. Her teeth bite at her lip as she waits for him to notice her presence. She was dying to say something, anything, but that couldn’t be done if he wasn’t willing to speak to her. At the same time, she’d be fine with saying nothing at all. She thinks to herself that she should’ve known better. Five days with just the two of them under the same roof should’ve had her running in the opposite direction. She should’ve expected lowered inhibitions and drunken words said without thought. But instead, she’d continued to live in the fantasy world that she’d created for herself. The one where she does as she pleases and expects Harry to move with her. 

She holds her breath when he puts the last of their food away and closes the fridge door. She buries back into her novel, the words not making it past her eyes but she pretends nonetheless. She only looks up when she hears him gasp. He stands behind the island, palms pressed to the cold surface and a look of shock etched into his expression at the realization of her presence. She offers a shy smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes and tries to decipher if he’s still upset with her. He seems calmer if his face is any indicator, and his sunglasses are now pushed atop his head. Under any other circumstance, she’d take a moment to ogle his chest and the way his biceps flex as he pushes himself away from the counter. However she still takes a quick peek, her teeth still gnawing her bottom lip raw. 

When she finally brings her gaze to meet his own she feels her nerves beckoning her to retreat to her room. Everything in her begs her to run away and forget the argument that they’d had. She hated confrontation, would rather forget it and move on than work through it. For most of her life that is exactly what she had done. Nothing was worth exerting that kind of energy into and more times than not, she wasn’t up for it. She liked to lay low, and would rather be someone’s peace than their problem. 

She feels frozen in place as they gaze at each other. Suddenly the room feels much cooler than it had before and she’s unsure if she’s ready to face the can of worms that they’d opened. She wanted to tell him that she was wrong, that she was sorry, but she’d be fine if he’d decided to move on. But that wasn’t the kind of person Harry was. He was the stick to it and fight through it kind of person. He didn’t like mulling over things for a long while and would rather tackle the things that bothered him head-on. There wasn’t a chance that he’d decided to not bring it up and Lauren was bracing for the impact. 

“Didn’t know you were there.” He mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans his lower back against the edge of the countertop. She nods stupidly, eyes shifting down to her book in her lap. Uncertainty swims through her like a sailboat caught in a storm, and she’s not ready for the waves to crash over her just yet. She’s sifting through the thoughts in her mind, trying to quickly form sentences that would convey her regretfulness. At the same time, her brain is muddled with thoughts and memories of everything that had led them to this moment. She can’t read him, his face is expressionless and his jaw is relaxed in the way that makes her palms sweat. Her throat is dry and she almost opens her mouth to speak before thinking better of it. The silence between them is deafening, she can feel his gaze from across the room as her fingers trace the title of her novel. 

She looks up when she hears him moving around the kitchen, and he’s moving towards her still without expression. A grimace finds her lip when he sits beside her and she’s drawing her knees to her chest to make room for him. Harry sits down beside her with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest with his gaze out the back windows. He slides his body further into the cushions of the bench and another breath of air expels from his lips. Lauren eyes his profile suspiciously when he makes no efforts to speak, still silently gazing at the horizon of the ocean. It was nearing sunset and the sky had begun to paint itself a pretty shade of orange. Her favorite time of the day, where everything was touched by the sun, changing color to honor her beauty. In those minutes it was hard to think about anything besides the divinity of the sky. A moment of reflection, she’d like to call it. Sunsets always reminded her of just how big the world was but simultaneously she felt intense comfort. Everything just felt better. Everything was beautiful, everyone was kind, and nothing mattered. Something short of a small utopia.

 But the way she felt right now was anything but. She admired the way the sun cast a glow onto Harry’s tanned skin and deepened the color of his hair. If it were any other moment she’d crawl into his chest to watch the sky change with him. Now she sat facing him, the sun turning her eyes golden and warming her skin. She thinks about the time they went to watch Memorial Day fireworks. Sitting atop the largest hill Harry knew to exist in Georgia. They got there early because he knew how much Laren loved to watch the sunset, and how much he loved to watch her. She remembers how his eyes kept shifting between the sky and her profile, and the way she’d looked at him when he had that funny look on his face. He smiled at her, the kind where his lips only parted a tad, and pulled her closer as the air began to chill. Her gaze stayed on his as best she could, a silent indication that she wanted to know what was on his mind. He hums, tangling their fingers as his eyes gaze over her features. 

“Your eyes look like little pots of honey.” He smiled, tilting his head slightly. A smile pushes its way onto her lips as she turns away bashfully. He’s pulling her closer then, letting her hide her face into his shoulder. He can’t help but chuckle and place a gentle kiss to her hair. “So pretty.” He’d said. Lauren can’t forget the way he kept her hand in his the entire evening. She supposes she should’ve known then. 

His fingers wrapping around her ankles pulls her back to focus. He pulls her feet into his lap wordlessly and Lauren relaxes. Even in the silence, she feels more at ease than she had all day. The pads of his fingers rub at her skin seemingly unconsciously as he appears to be deep in thought. Her eyes are fixated on the bridge of his nose and the dip of his lip and for a moment, everything feels okay. 

“Suppose we should talk, yeah?” He murmurs, tearing his eyes away from the sky to let his cheek fall to his shoulder.  She nods, humming when he squeezes at the sole of her foot. He knows she’s a bit nervous, can tell by the way her fingers haven’t stopped circling over the cover of her novel. He fights the soft smile that threatens to overtake his features when he realizes which book it is. He can barely make out the shadow of his writing beneath the lifted cover. His hands on her skin ground him, and the changing sky makes it difficult to stay mad at her. He regrets the way he spoke to her, more sorry than he could express about being cross with her. He knows that he could’ve handled it better -- should’ve handled it better, and mostly he regrets letting her walk away. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but when his eyes meet hers it falls shut. He’s lost in the way her eyes glow in the sun, the warm brown shining, and for a moment he’s lost everything he was going to say. Once again his heart feels too big for his chest, his brain empties and everything seems insignificant. His body is enchanted by her, love overtakes him and he knows that he can’t let the opportunity pass him by. Before the silence lasts too long he’s running a hand up her leg and closing his eyes for a moment. “M’sorry about what I said earlier.” He starts, the low and steady bass of his voice cutting through the air. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that and I know I made you upset.” He’s fiddling with his rings when he finishes, unable to watch for her reaction. 

“Harry,” Lauren sighs, her chin dropping to her chest as she grapples with the words she needs to say. Harry’s lost in the way his name sounds like a song falling from her mouth, and he’s humming unknowingly. His eyes find her face again and he’s almost mad at her for being so damn pretty. 

“I’m sorry for telling you to forget about last night.” She breathes. Her palms sweat and her fingernails create half-moons on her skin. Her throat feels dry as she tries to maintain his gaze, willing herself to not be distracted by the soft features of his face and his apologetic expression. “It was a stupid thing to say, especially knowing it was the furthest thing from what I wanted to say.” She chuckles beside herself and Harry’s expression turns from sorry to perplexed. She’s twisting her ring around her finger with her thumb and the way her eyes stay fixed on his, he’s not sure if she realizes that she’s doing it. 

He lets a beat pass when he realizes that she’s finished, and suddenly he’s inclined to pry. “What did you want to say?” He asks unassumingly, relaxing his expression slightly. Lauren pushes out a sigh, looking towards the setting sun for an answer. The gentle graze of his fingers on her shins eases her discomfort. She doesn’t look at him when she speaks again, and he can’t help but notice the way her skin gleams under the touch of the sun. “Wanted to tell you,” She breathes in deep, sucking the air to her lungs and hopefully mustering up some courage as well. “--Wanted to tell you that I’m completely enamored by you. And that I’ve never felt more cared for in my entire life and that terrifies me.” Her eyes are back to his on her last word and he takes in the way they’re glossed over, glistening under the rays of the sun. 

For a second it feels as if he’s in a state of comatose. His chest is swelling and bursting and filling him with the warmth of a thousand fires that he thinks he might explode. The orange hue cast on her skin radiates around her and he swears she’s never been more beautiful. His smile threatens to split his face as he fully rests his cheek on his shoulder. He’s humming, pulling her legs closer into his lap and fighting the urge to wrap her up in his arms. Her words bounce around the forefront of his mind and he can’t focus on anything other than what she had said. 

“I’m scared too, but only of letting you get away.” He says gently. Her brown eyes watch him carefully as he brings his finger to flick underneath his nose, and he’s looking at her again with that same bout of sincerity he had on that Memorial Day. She’s silent, the steady drum of her heart reverberates behind her ears and she feels as if the moment would slip away in a second. “I’m sure that I love you more than I’ve loved anything or anyone. And I’m sure that I’ve never felt this way before, which scared me at first, but now my only fear is losing you.” He breathes.

 He’s unaware of the way her lip quivers slightly, and her hands ball into themselves. She feels as if her chest has been cracked wide open and every fear or worry that she’s ever had dissipates. Harry’s focus is on his hands, small remnants on a smile taint his lips. He loved her. Lauren almost wants to punch herself. What was all of this for? Why had she put up so many walls just to let him worm his way through? Why had it taken so long for her to realize that maybe, just maybe, he loved her too? She thinks she can blame it on her own insecurities, but even those Harry had made feel minuscule. She was worthy of love and worthy of happiness. That was all Harry had been trying to make her realize. She loved him. More than she knew what to do with but she was content that she got to try. 

Without a second thought, she’s removing her legs from his lap and standing to her feet. Harry looks at her with shining green eyes, irises bright from the light of the sun. She moves to straddle his lap and his hands find her uncovered thighs with ease, humming at the feeling of having her close again. The smile on his face is bright, crinkling the corners of his eyes and dimpling his cheeks in the way that Lauren loved. It was the face he made when he was so ridiculously happy and needed a release of emotion. She brings her hands to the side of his face, a grin splitting across her face. The sun was almost beyond the horizon now, an amber hue encompassing their small sliver of earth. The final rays of the day caress the skin of her back, warming her to her bones. “I love you.” She hums and Harry is lost in the glow of her eyes and the crinkle of her nose as she smiles. He lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment, relishing in the way he feels right then. When she’s nudging his nose with her own, he opens them again and hums at the feeling of her skin on his. 

“I love you.” He repeats, the skin of his lips brushing against hers and she sighs. He lets his hands trail up her sides and around her back slowly, up and down until they're under her t-shirt. He leans up to connect their lips softly, humming contentedly. He takes his time this time around, memorizing the way her lips slot over his and how her fingers squeeze behind his ears. He has nothing to prove now, no flashing club lights blurring his vision, no alcohol to numb his thoughts into oblivion. Everything was out in the open, into the universe, and blooming under the sunshine. 

As his lips close over her bottom one he’s smiling softly and dropping his forehead to hers. He kisses his way along her jaw, pressing others to the lifted apples of her cheeks. Soft words of adoration fall from his mouth as he continues, and her jaw falls to her chest when he gets to that spot behind her ear. She’s mewling into his touch, raking her fingers through the long strands of his hair. He hums at the small pleas that fall from her lips and places a gentle kiss at her temple.  “Not gonna run from this, this time?” It’s posed as a question but the look in his eye says otherwise, and he’s pulling his chin away when Lauren goes to slot their lips together. “Asked you a question, love.” The cool metal of his rings bites at the skin of her back and she feels her insides swarm with the change in the tone of his voice. She’s damn near whimpering as she moves into him again only to be met with his retraction. Her breathing is shaky as she strings her words together, maintaining his eye contact. “Not going anywhere.” She assures him, biting at his chin. Harry pulls her closer then, reconnecting their lips and biting at her top one. His hand moves from under her shirt to the side of her face, fingers squeezing behind her ear when he moans on his next breath. 

She adores the way he kisses her with such fervor. Even as she leans over his seated frame, he commands her to follow his lead with every part of his lips and turn of his head. She doesn’t mind letting him work into her mouth and moans when his tongue slides over hers and finds home. He pulls her closer into his lap, a low groan reverberating in his chest when she sits on the becomings of a hard-on. Lauren hums into his mouth once again as she rolls over him and grips his hair a bit tighter. Harry pulls her bottom lip into his mouth, biting on the flesh before pulling a kiss from her. His palm is splayed across her lower back as she grinds against him and he watches her face with parted lips when he pulls away from their kiss. When he’s met with her golden eyes he can’t help but let his jaw hang slack for a moment. He takes in the small pants of air falling from her kiss swollen lips, and he doesn’t let the warm flush of her cheeks slip his notice. He almost whimpers at the sight before him, entranced with the pure unadulterated version of it. He’s vaguely aware of her hands slipping down his shoulders to his chest, fingers creating crescent-like shapes in their wake. His focus is blinded by the way she kisses across his jaw, familiarizing herself with the skin right below his chin. She nips there for a moment, sucking a deep bruise on the stretched skin and his eyes are rolling back into his sockets. 

The selfish need to have her closer racks through him, and he reckons he’d never grow tired of having her this way. Both hands are back under her shirt, desperately tugging the fabric higher up her ribs. His eyes are a gentle plea of consent and she nods, raising her arms over her head silently. He kisses at her smooth brown skin, suckling next to a freckle he’d been eyeing all week. She can feel the short pants of his breath at her ribcage as the shirt is moved up towards her arms. His touch is light as he moves the shirt over her shoulders, green eyes boring into hers in an intense stare she can’t tear her eyes away from. Their eye contact is lost for a moment when the shirt is tugged over her head and Harry’s moaning against her skin before their eyes reconnect. She hadn’t felt it necessary to put on any kind of underwear after her bath. The task itself seemed mundane as she had dwelled on her once dreary thoughts. But now as the cool air hits her skin and her shirt is tossed to the floor, she’s sucking in a breath through her teeth and her nipples are pebbling. Harry doesn’t hesitate to envelope one of the buds between his lips, humming in satisfaction when her fingers tangle through his hair once more. She lets out a wanton moan as he flicks at her nipple with his tongue, rolling her hips against his in anticipation. 

“Fuck.” That is all he can manage to breathe out when his hips rut into her on the next forward roll of her hips, and his bottom lip rests on her skin. Lauren brings her hand to the side of his face, admiring the little furrow between his brows. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He whines and pulls her back to him by her neck. He pushes their lips together in a chaste kiss and pulls away to watch her chase him. Her brow furrows and he offers a soft smile, lips slotting against hers softly.

 “Want you so bad.” Her voice is just above a whisper but he catches it and the words turn his stomach in ways that he’d only dreamt about.  He rests his forehead at the base of her throat in an attempt to bring himself down to earth. This was something that had never left the confines of his conscious, something he reserved for his alone time. “I’m yours. Always have been, pet.” He says into her skin, placing a gentle kiss where she’s swallowing harshly. Fingers cart through his hair softly, and she places a small kiss on his head. He turns his head to the side to catch her gaze, brown eyes shining in the lasting embers of the sun. The drum of her heart pounds beneath his ear and his hands find her hips to pull her closer to him. He watches the way her eyes flutter shut when his erection slides against her soft center. The material of his swim trunks is thin enough for her to feel the slight curve of his member and she can’t help but want to feel him completely. She seldom thought about him this way, the thought of it always got her too worked up to continue. But when she had, she had imagined every detail.

“Need you.” She exasperates, her head falling forward on her neck. He captures her lips between his own then, tracing his tongue along the curve of her, and sighing. He can’t think of a time where she had ever been more vulnerable with him, and as much as he wants to satisfy her every need, he wonders how much she’s willing to share. He hums against her mouth when she tugs at the roots of his hair, a whimper falls from her mouth when he pulls away slightly. 

“Where do you need me, lovie?” His bitten lips brush against hers as he speaks, the low octave of his tone spurring her on. She turns her head, groaning against his cheek and he chuckles deeply. He moves his hand up her side, gliding over her rib cage and gently cupping the swell of her breast. Her breathing is shaky, mind muddled with nerves and desire. His fingers tweak at her nipple, pulling just enough to elicit a moan from her pouty mouth. “Harry-” She whines, her jaw hanging open as she tilts her head up towards the ceiling. “Need me to help you feel good, babe?” He hums and trails his nose against the length of her neck. She nods meekly, turning her head to capture his lips in a swift movement. Her hand finds the side of his neck when she feels him about to pull away, sucking his lip into her mouth before offering him her tongue. He grunts, kissing into her and letting her take control of his mouth for a moment.  She moves her mouth against his quickly, a feeble attempt to distract him and he’s groaning as he submits to her. His other hand moves around her back until he’s gripping her ass, sliding her back into his lap with a sigh.

 “Got to use your words, sunshine.” His grip is tight on her, stilling her movements and making her whimper desperately into his mouth. He was so hard, harder than he thinks he’s ever been in his life but he loves her this way. Needy, clinging to his shoulders and whining against his temple. “Make me feel good, H. Please.” She barely recognizes the sound of her own voice. He’s humming against her skin, tonguing his way along her throat. The hand that had played idly at her breast makes its slow descent down her stomach and in between their bodies. He plays coyly around the hem of her shorts, dipping his fingers in slightly to run across the smooth skin of her stomach. “Right in here?” He asks absentmindedly, watching her face as he pushes a single finger into the front of her shorts. They moan together, Harry in the realization that she wasn’t wearing any underwear at all. 

“Fuck, yes.” She whines as the tip of his middle fingers collects her wetness before running up to her clit. She exhales a shaking breath, her hips grinding down on his slow-moving digit. He’s moving so slowly in a way that makes her brain fuzzy, and her eyes dilate under the shifting sun. “Want me here or do you wanna go to bed?” He breathes, soaking his finger in her as he pushes into her. Her back arched into his chest, fingers scratching at his scalp and she’s unsure if she could breathe let alone tell him what she wants. He’s pulling his finger away slightly when she doesn’t answer, green eyes peering at her as her eyebrows furrow. 

“Here, love. Please, feels so good.” Her mouth hangs open as he’s pushing two fingers into her on his next go, groaning at the feeling of her squeezing him. His fingers reach places she could never reach on her own and she pants quick breaths as she rocks against his hand. His hand at her ass guides her with his rhythm, soft pleas fall from her lips when he curls his digits and scratches at the spongy spot within her. 

“Look so fuckin’ pretty riding my fingers like tha’.” He moans, voice gravely with his own arousal just from watching her. His words rang through her ears, spurring her hips to come down on his fingers with every thrust. He had managed to get her so close to the edge rather quickly, and the familiar tingles shot down her spine as she neared her finish. 

“So close, H.” She whines, dropping her forehead to focus on his eyes. What she sees instead has a deep guttural moan ripping through her chest and it takes everything in her not to screw her eyes shut. Harry had a hand down his swim trunks, squeezing and pumping at his length. When his eyes meet hers again, his mouth falls open in bliss his eyes a gentle plea for her to come for him. With his next thrust into her, he pushes his thumb against her clit, rubbing slow steady circles until she’s crying out his name in a way he decides that he loves. 

“Make a mess on my fingers, baby. Wanna feel you.” He groans before pulling her nipple between his teeth and his fingers reach for that spot that he knows will bring her over the edge. Her hands claw at his shoulders as he sucks a deep bruise into the underside of her boob. When her legs begin to shake against his thighs he pulls his hand out of his trunks and cups her jaw to pull her mouth back to his. Their kiss is all brushing lips and deep moans as her orgasm rushes through her, tensing her body and he works her through it. “So fucking good for me.” He says against the corner of her mouth as she comes. His thumb slows its movements at her clit until she’s grabbing at his wrist when it becomes too much. 

She places a soft kiss against his lips when she comes to, slotting her lips against his. His bottom lips rest between her parted mouth as she pulls kiss after kiss from him, eating every moan and whimper that falls from them. He’s pulling his fingers from her then, cupping his hand until he’s out of her shorts. She watches with wide eyes as he brings the digits to his mouth, sucking his middle finger into his mouth and humming at the taste of her. He keeps his eyes open, watching the way brown eyes focus on the way his tongue laps over his finger. When he’s had his share he taps his ring finger against her lips, sliding it through when they part with a groan that has his hips in search of her center. A slow fuck reverberates from his throat as he watches her through a lustful gaze. Her eager mouth sucks him in slowly, putting on a show for him, licking around his digit in a way she had only imagined she’d suck his cock if given the chance. 

“Need t’be inside of you.” It’s a desperate whine, really. An airy plea that falls from rose-colored lips, tickles her insides and fills her with a warmth that blankets her soul. With a nod of her head and a whisper of, please he’s standing to his feet with her in his arms. He puts her down before spinning her in his arms, grabby hands caressing her skin as he nips at her neck. He’s pushing his hips into her as he grabs at hers, pulling her back to his chest. Her head is lulling against his shoulder facing the opposite way as he sucks a deep mark where her neck and shoulder meet. 

“Just can’t get enough of you, bug.” His hands slip up her sides, cupping her breasts in both palms. “Pretty under the sun, like it was made for you.” He murmurs, voicing his thoughts into the open. She whimpers when his hands tug at her shorts, fingers dipping below the waistband.  “Take ’em off.” She breathes above a whisper, placing her hands over his and pushing the tight fabric down her legs. He turns her around in his arms when she steps out of them, hands running aimlessly over her naked body. She’s pushing his swim trunks down his legs, keeping her eyes fixed on his. He watches her with a parted mouth as she drops to her knees before him and steps of out his shorts with a sigh. 

Lauren can hardly keep her hand still as she wraps her fingers around his length, groaning at the feeling of him in her hand. His skin velvet smooth, the weight of him resting in her palm nicely. She kisses around his thighs, whimpering along with him as she spreads the precum around his tip with her thumb. A muffled shit falls from Harry’s lips as he tilts his head back on his neck, blowing a puff of air towards the ceiling. Her heart pounds behind her ears as she takes him into her mouth slowly at first, humming at the taste of him on her tongue. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, savoring the way he felt in her mouth, how heavy he felt laying against her tongue and she can only imagine the way he would fill and stretch her. She holds the base of him as she circles around his tip, familiarizing herself with every curve and indent of his cock. Harry’s hand finds its way to her hair, bunching at the nape of her neck and she lowers her mouth on him with a satisfied sigh. 

“Yes, baby suck me off like tha’.” He moans as his chin rests on his chest, which was beginning to glisten with a sheen of sweat. She places her other palm of his butterfly tattoo, nails creating crescents in his skin as she peers at him through her lashes. Harry knows that this can’t last for very long, not with the way her small hand stokes at his cock and her mouth swallows him deeper. He knows that if he doesn’t want to cream down her throat he should pull off soon, but the way her hand meets her mouth right under his tip when she’s rearing back has him shifting his hips forward towards her pretty mouth. 

She finds a rhythm of stroking her hand and sucking him off, squeezing at the base of him when she got there. Harry can’t contain the sounds that fall effortlessly from his mouth, whimpering her name like a prayer as he watches her take him down her throat. She lets her wrist twist as she pulls upwards, releasing her mouth from him with a pop in an attempt to gain some air. He nearly loses it when she taps his swollen tip against her stuck-out tongue before she traces the vein that runs along the underside of his length. She kisses at his thighs as she wanks him, leaving small marks on his skin as she sucks. Her thumb swipes over his slit periodically as she keeps her rhythm, twisting her wrist and squeezing slightly when she reaches his tip. Harry’s curling his toes against the hardwood flooring, his hand feeling limp in her hair as he succumbs to her touch, chanting her name as she pleases him. He lets her go on for a moment longer before he’s pulling his hips away from her and meeting her eyes with a breathless pant. 

“Got kinda close there, hm?” She asks as she stands to her feet again with a smile. He nods sheepishly, the words lost on his tongue and he presses his forehead to hers and she grasps at the fleshy part of his hips. She presses her mouth to his again, pulling up on his shoulders and he groans at the taste of himself and the stale remnants of her on his tongue. He brings her back with him as he sits on the alcove bench once more and she straddles his thighs, making a point to sit directly over his hardened length. 

“Gonna be a good girl fo’ me and ride my cock?” He murmurs against her jaw, placing soft kisses to her skin. She nods as she lifts her hips, reaching a hand between them to grab his dripping length. She holds him there for a moment, letting him slip against her folds and brush at her clit, eliciting a moan from her lips. Harry groans at the feeling of her wetness coating his cock and anticipation swells in his chest because he knows his fate. He had dreamt of it more times than he could count. Thought of the way her walls would stretch open for him and squeeze against him as he sheathed himself within her. But nothing compares to the way it actually feels when she sits down on him, drinking him in inch by inch and whimpering a soft cry of his name. Her nails dig into his shoulders and he hisses, watching with wide lust-blown eyes as he disappears within her. 

“Fuck, I love you.” He cries, bringing his eyes to find hers once more. Lauren finds his lips again as his chest heaves up and down against her own. “I’m so in love with you.” She whimpers against his lips when he bottoms out, filling her to the brim. God, was he big. Lauren thinks she has never felt so full in her life, never had she taken a dick as big as his and she needs a minute to just feel him. He kisses her slowly as she adjusts to his size, his thumb caressing the soft skin of her cheek as he lazily moves his tongue with hers. The initial roll of her hips has him moaning a filthy sound into her mouth, his other hand taking purchase of her ass. Her jaw unhinges and their kiss is lost as she does it again, lifting up slowly and rolling her hips forward when she comes back down. The hand on her face joins his other hand, his forearms resting underneath her thighs and holding her ass to guide her. The support allows her to rock her hips faster, bouncing along his length and scratching at his scalp. 

“Taking me so well, baby.” He snaps his hips up to meet hers and all the air is lost from her lungs as she cries out. Harry’s lips find her neck, sucking evidence of the way she was making him feel into the clammy skin. She tugs at the roots of his hair as she moves faster against him, feeling the pit in her stomach knotting itself once more. 

“Feel so full, H. Need you to fuck me.” The words sound so sinful falling from her lips, coated with an intense need for him. She knows there was no way she’d ever let go of this now, no matter what it took to keep it. He was hitting all the spots within her that made her legs shake and knees buckle, murmuring words into her skin that were only ever meant for her to hear. 

He flips them over quickly, resting her head against the arm of the bench with his hand underneath to keep her safe. His other hand pulls her leg around his hip as he kneels over her and pushes his chest against hers. A loud cry of fuck expels from her lips as his hips come down against hers, deeper than he was in their last position and her fingers claw down his back, leaving marks in her wake that she was sure to admire later on. One hand tangles in the damp tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck while the other grabs aimlessly at the apex of his ass while he fucks into her, drawing himself out completely before pushing into her again. 

“Need a proper fucking, yeah? Need me t’show you how much you mean t’me?” He pants against her ear, sliding his arm around her waist to hold her closer. His words further intensify to knot in her stomach, sparks tingling in her spine once more. She rolls her hips up into his, finding his rhythm and crying out when his patch of hair brushes against her clit. “Shit, Harry. I’m gonna come.” Her voice raises an octave towards the end and he’s picking up the speed of his hips. 

“Can feel you squeezing me, bug. Hold on f’me.” The kisses he’s pressing on her skin are a stark contrast from the steady roll of their hips, his tongue tracing behind her ear before sucking on her ear lobe. The pulse of her walls around his cock has him twitching within her, the familiar feel of his orgasm building at the bottom of his spine. He’s not quite finished with her yet, wants to be enveloped in her warmth for as long as he can. He knows he’ll be spending the rest of their stay buried inside of her in every room of the house because he just can’t seem to think about a scenario where they aren’t doing this. And he’s mad at himself for not saying anything sooner because this was what he had been missing. He should’ve been making love to her repeatedly way before they even got to this point, but he figures that it made it better. 

“Fuck, love want you to come.” He breathes against her mouth, hovering over her parted lips as his eyes stay locked on hers, supposing he’d be damned if he closed his eyes and missed the way her face turned when she comes undone. The snapping of his hips is relentless as she chants his name, willing her eyes to stay open as she fucks him back, welcoming the warmth that rushes over her. She tugs at the roots of his hair while simultaneously pushing him closer to her, breathing his name in airy sighs as she feels her orgasm peaking. 

“I’m coming. Fuck, baby, I’m -” 

“Come on my cock, love, need you to come.” He groans along with her as her legs shake and her orgasm ripples through her, squeezing the length of him tightly until his hips begin to stutter and he knows he can’t hold out for much longer. He holds her close as he works her through it, whispering sweet words against her cheek. “Tha’s it, love. So good for me.” The furrow between his brows is deep as he feels the start of his own orgasm building and numbing his legs. He grunts against her mouth as she holds him to her, working her hips as best she can as he rocks into her, bottoming out and staying there for a moment. 

“Come on, H. Want you to come inside.” She whimpers, the fluttering of her walls enticing him to do just that. “Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my come? Gonna take it all?” He rambles behind a wanton moan, his muscles tensing with every word that fell from his lips. She’s crying out his name, begging for his load in a way that makes Harry never want to stop coming. With three more thrusts, his body tenses on top of hers, and she continues to roll her hips as ropes of come paint her insides. Her name falls from his lips as he empties his balls within her, and she watches the way his face contorts, his mouth making an o shape. She kisses his face softly as he comes to, heavy grunts leaving his mouth and his chest heaving against hers frantically. 

It silent for a moment as they catch their breath, the sun has set beyond the horizon and a purple hue covers them. All that can be heard is their labored breath and Lauren carts her fingers through his hair as he softens inside her. She doesn’t want him to move, quite honestly. She has never felt closer to him than she does now, and she fears that if he moves that feeling will go away. Her heart pounds within her chest, her legs beginning to ache and she knows that she should clean the mess between her legs. Before she can move Harry’s slipping from her fold with a moan and grabbing her discarded t-shirt from the floor before bringing it between her legs. Harry laughs at the way Lauren scrunches her face as he uses her shirt to clean her up and he knows it’s only because it’s hers. 

“Didn’t wanna move too far from you just yet.” He laughs and presses a kiss on the side of her mouth. She hums, wrapping her arms around his neck before bringing his mouth back to hers to kiss him slowly. When his tongue enters her mouth she sighs, relaxes into the cushions of the bench and all of her worry dissipates. There was nothing to worry about. Harry loved her and she loved him and time had proven that the only thing that had gotten between that was themselves. She was certain she wouldn’t let that happen again and as their kiss deepened, Harry’s thoughts mirrored hers. 

“Love you, you know tha’?” He hums when they pull apart for a moment and she smiles softly, brushing the fallen hair away from his forehead with a nod. She repeats the sentiment and sits up, stretching her legs with a wince. Harry’s pulling her into his lap, unable to keep his hands off of her for more than a second now that he knows that he can, and Lauren sighs as she rests her head against his shoulder and watches out the window.

“We should take a bath, H. Think you broke my back near the end there.” A loud laugh pulls from his chest and he’s standing up with her in his arms. “M’sorry, love. Let’s go get you all put back together again.” He kisses her forehead tenderly and she can’t fight the smile that splits across her face. “Love you.” She sighs, burying her face into his neck as she crosses her ankles against his ass. 

“Love you, sunshine.”

2.14.21

Masterlist

#so into you #hs #harry styles fic #harry styles x ofc #harry styles smut #harry styles x black #harry styles #harry styles fic rec #thehoclibrary #best friends to lovers #bestfriend!harry

[flyinglotus777]

Netflix’s Squid Game

SPOILER ALERT! If you are interested in watching the series, I HIGHLY suggest you do so. This article will be an overall synopsis and my review of the show. For an in-depth analysis of the symbolism of the show and ending, scroll down to the fourth to last paragraph.

The Netflix show, “Squid Game,” written and directed by Hwang Dong-hyuk is a phenomenal Korean drama centered around our victor, Seong Gi-hun, played by Lee Jung-jae. Contestants were recruited to play in a life or death competition due to their lack of luck, financial knowledge, and influx of impending debt they have accumulated throughout their lives. We first meet Gi-hun as he is down on his luck. Living with his elderly, overworked mother (which in countries outside of the United States is not strange nor uncommon) Gi-hun was a friend to gambling, but that toxic love caused him to be in debt to a gang of (what seemed to be) loan sharks. When luck finally strikes him on the race track, life simultaneously decides to take an excrement on his reality. His debt seekers catch him on his hot streak and involuntarily sign him up to be a participant in the Squid Game.

Similar to many other of the 456 participants, they all shared a common denominator of being in situations it seemed only money could fix. Upon arrival the contestants were asked to voluntarily sign wavers in order to participate in the game, while unknowingly risking their lives, for the opportunity to win 456 billion won (which would be roughly over $3.5 million in US currency). The challenges were mostly based on nostalgic childhood games, both based in the United States and South Korea.

Now I knew due to the explanation in the introduction of episode one that if any player were to lose, they would die. So during the first challenge of red light green light, when players were bulletly penalized for losing I was not surprised. After the game, the players decided to rally together and quit playing. The influence of the cash prize split the decision down the middle, leaving the old man, player 1, to be the final decision. To my surprise he actually chose to decline, freeing all of the players. During the voting, many players screamed at each other as to why they would choose to stay in the hell hole as other players responded that the outside world was not any better if not the same as the harsh environment they were already in. This reality struck many contestants as they returned back to their reality of debt, dependents, and for some bounty hunts, thus resulting in them returning to the game.

During the whole season, I was trying to find the purpose of these games. We knew why the participants felt motivated to play, but I wondered what was the purpose of having them fight for their lives in the first place. When the PlayStation faced soldiers forced the doctor (player 111) to dissect the bodies for organs to sell at the black market, at first I thought that it was what the original game maker wanted which I thought was genius. Soon to learn that it was actually a violation to a code of equality that was placed inside the arena applying to all of those who existed, soldiers and participants alike. Which struck me as odd due to the soldiers being able to tote guns and wear masks based on their own hierarchy and the participants being collectively isolated and given numbers as if it was a remake of the Stanford Prison experiment. Nonetheless many soldiers faced the same fate as the players, and my pondering would meet the solution come the finale.

Let’s discuss players. I only favored Gi-hun because he was the protagonist, but throughout the story he grew on me as his big heart prevailed through the madness. I knew Choo Sang-woo, the embezzling business man and hometown friend of Gi-hun played by Park Hae-soo, was a psychopath when I saw him in a fully filled bathtub with his suit on. Running from the police, in debt or not, that’s just as much of a red flag for serial killer tendencies as sleeping with socks on or having too thin and highly arched eyebrows. The episode that he crossed Ali, the father of one from Pakistan with the missing fingers, made me hate Sang-woo for the rest of the series. I was infuriated and frustrated with Ali for being that naïve to believe that they could escape the round as a duo, but understood his perspective since up until that point Sang-woo was a dependable, trusted ally to Ali. However after that episode I didn’t care who won, I was just ready for Sang-woo to die.

Kang Sae-byeok, the skeptical and beautiful warrior from North Korea played by Jung Ho-yeon, deserves her own paragraph. Along with her beauty, her presence and demeanor was so bad ass. She was thrifty and intelligent, as her talent being pick pocketing. I was waiting for her to just be so bad ass. As the punk disguised to be gangster, Jang Deok-su, pushed her around which seemed to be normal behavior between the two, I was ready for Sae-byeok to twist his arm, send a plunging round house kick to his nuts, and cut his snake tattoo right off of his face. Although her exterior was tough, her heart was made of malleable gold which we got to see as she opened up to her female companion during the marble challenge and sobbed from her loss afterwards. Although she was not the killer bad ass queen I had wanted her to be, I still call her a warrior because of her resiliency throughout life’s and the game’s many obstacles and her drive to provide her younger brother with a better life.

Thankfully Deok-su got what he deserved as Han Mi-nyeo poetically decided to take both of their lives during the glass challenge. “You said we would be together till the end,” she said before diving into her inevitable death with her short lived lover. Mi-nyeo was incredibly annoying as I would often pinch the inside corners of my eyes and scratch my eyebrows when she would appear. However that crazy bitch served justice, and I love her for that.

I was highly disappointed by the demise of the detective Hwang Jun-ho, played by the handsome Wi Ha-joon. I was rooting for detective Jun-ho, as I’m sure we all were, on his pursuit to find his brother. I was not surprised that his brother was Front Man, as I had suspected that his brother must’ve died or been apart of the game making due to his absence in real life and the current game. After discovering his brother was the victor of his year, to me it only made sense that he would be apart of the game enforcement. As we saw from Gi-hun, a normal life is impossible to live after experiencing something so traumatic as a series of death ridden children games. However I was saddened and surprised that detective Jun-ho was unsuccessful in closing down the whole operation. I mean the man was close to performing forced, aristocratic fellatio in the name of serving and protecting the law. I truly thought because he had gotten so far and was so close to exposing the operation that the only choice he had was to be successful. At last he was shot and killed by his own blood, the one he had been looking for; providing us with a cinematic and heart jerking ending to detective Jun-ho.

Lastly lets discuss the old man, player 001 named O Yeong-su, whom I also nicknamed Poppy during the series. Deceivingly innocent and weak, I genuinely liked Yeong-su throughout the game play. I thoroughly enjoyed his relationship with Gi-hun and saw him as a valuable player in most instances. I believe he was one of the main reasons that Gi-hun continued to lead with his heart. Gi-hun claimed that Yeong-su was the reason he returned to the games and later found out that Yeong-su was the reason there were games in the first place. The climatic episode of the marble challenge was when their relationship had been defined as “gganbu” (which is a term for trusted, close friends in Korean, as explained in the series), thus Yeong-su establishing a special place in Gi-hun’s heart. During the challenge, Yeong-su begins to have an episode of what we all assumed to be dementia as the arena they are playing in is designed like his old neighborhood and he abandons the game to take a trip down memory lane. Gi-hun screams in frustration at the old man to play with him only to end up losing in their even and odd game and resulting in deceit, tricking the old man to let him be the victor. Now if I was Gi-hun, I would’ve convinced Yeong-su to let me hold his marbles for safe keeping and let him have a fun time reminiscing on his life while he ran down the clock. Then when it was time, I would’ve turned in all 20 marbles just as Sang-woo did and went about my business. It would’ve only been right for the old man to forfeit as he was already on his death bed, or so we innocently thought. Before I get into the ending, I want to talk about the last match between Sang-woo and Gi-hun.

Finally, the last game to see who would be victorious in a highly anticipated game of Squid between Gi-hun and Sang-woo. It seemed as if it were a battle between good vs evil; Gi-hun representing a more benevolent side as he would often optimistically look to help other competitors and extend the kindness he had been shown versus Sang-woo who represented a more vindictive and ruthless side, determined to hurt anyone in order to receive his highly coveted and long awaited prize in an arena that erased any foundation of morals or ethics as soon as the light turned red. Luck was on Gi-hun’s side as he had the opportunity to play offense. With a cunning mind and a vengeance for Sae-byeok’s death, Gi-hun delivered a can of whoop ass to his opponent. As the saying goes, the good shall always prevail. Perhaps his heart was too pure as Gi-hun halted from crossing the finish line and offered Sang-woo a chance to live, thus forfeiting the prize money. Needless to say, I applauded when Sang-woo committed suicide as it was the only right thing to do in his position.

A year passed by and Gi-hun seemed worse than before. Physically his style was bummy wealthy, a look pioneered by Bill Gates, but mentally he was in shambles. How could you blame him? Gi-hun discovered that the responsible party for these horrendous events was none other than his ggangbu, old man Yeong-su. The biggest, jaw dropping plot twist of the entire series. As they were joined on Christmas Eve and Yeong-su on his death bed, they placed one final bet on an assumed to be drunken, homeless man who sat on the streets as it snowed and waited for help to arrive. Yeong-su explained how he actually wanted to help people and give his money to people who needed it, but wanted to do it in an “entertaining way.” As Gi-hun flared with outrage towards the old man for finding amusement in killing people, the old man rebutted using horse races as an example of people’s amusement. Yeong-su also said he participated in the games because it was more fun to play than to be a spectator, which I had noticed him treating the competition as if it were adult summer camp. I had just assumed since he was old, he didn’t care if he had died or not.

I think most people will think that this show was a metaphor about how money and rich people are evil. However I think it can be seen as commentary on society as a whole, not just the wealthy. Yeong-su says on his death bed that it’s a test of humanity, and asks Gi-hun if he still has faith in humanity after what he has experienced. Although money was the luring motivator to win the game, people still chose to return to the competition to escape their problems. Sure, money was apart of their problems as all of the players (excluding Yeong-su) were in debt, but that was due to choices that they had made. Whether it had been through embezzling, gambling, lack of luck, or financial ignorance, it was the people who had gotten themselves into those situations. Money doesn’t have a personal vendetta against anyone nor does it have an inherent quality of good or evil. Money is a neutral energy used to be exchanged for goods and services. It’s people who designate that energy to their humane or inhumane desires.

Leading to the next point of the wealthy and how they are seen to be evil due to having wealth. Although I do believe that there are some wealthy people who act as villains, money didn’t create the villain inside of them. Those people were going to behave maliciously whether they have money or not. The VIPs, who were spectating the finale of challenges, were tied to a bank devoted to the wealthy and gambled on the competitors who played (and most likely helped subsidize the events). We place judgement on them, but as Yeong-su said, people gamble on horse races. Although people are not animals and by my knowledge I don’t believe most or any horses die during these races, it is still the principle of watching an entity being tortured for amusement, which is not only confined to the wealthy population. When the concept of killing and tormenting living breathing beings for amusement is normalized within society, the lines begin to blur on who is okay to perform and who is not. Take the audience of this show for example, we all watched a show where hundreds of people were mercilessly killed for the desire of winning a cash prize for our own amusement, thus making “Squid Game” the number one show on Netflix at the moment. Although the show is fictional and brilliantly written, this Hunger Games concept is not new. We come in contact again and again with the idea of people who are disadvantaged given an opportunity to better their lives through inhumane means, including risking their own lives or actively sacrificing the life of another, and being spectators on the edge of our seats who can’t seem to look away. It is no different than a Roman gladiator match in a grand colosseum, which in modern day would be a MMA fight at the MGM hotel. We blame it on the rich who are ridiculed for creating these events, but at the end of the day it is the people, rich,poor, and everyone in between, who continue to still go along with it and to some extent desire it. Which makes me question, what does that say about humanity, and do I actually have faith in us? Although Gi-hun went through hell and back, he still remained pure of heart and used his wealth to enhance his life and those around him; proving that wealthy people can still be benevolent and desire righteous good. Similar to Gi-hun, the optimist in me wants to believe that there are still people in this world with good hearts, but I guess we just have to wait until the time comes to see.

Ultimately the show was phenomenal, and definitely sparked a desire inside of me to watch more Korean dramas. I don’t think the show will have a second season. Simply because I think the story line would be better cut off there, thus leaving the audience always wanting more. However if season 2 ever comes out, I’m ready for Gi-hun to take a Liam Neeson approach to ending the Squid Game and hopefully with a beard. Thank you for reading my article. I know it was incredibly lengthy. I have just finished the season after a 2 day binge watch, and have a lot of emotions and thoughts ruminating in my brain. Let me know what you think of the show and what you think of the article. Did anyone else notice the paintings of the games on the walls of the dormitory?

God bless.

#squid game #netflix #review #korean drama #kdrama #series review #web series

[danhoemei]

Fandom questions:

2, 4, 7

Thank you for the ask amazing person 💚💚💚 (Ask game)

2. Fanfic trope you like?

SO MANY. But if I were to choose just one it'd probably be slow burn. I love seeing the progress of the relationship, live through it together with the characters, want it more and more as I learn about the pair and crave their happiness. And it all gradually accumulates until the tension reaches its peak, then everything untangles and clears out, and I finally experience catharsis. It just makes me so immersed in the story and gives so much more satisfaction than a short and obvious progress. Especially when it prompts the author to create an interesting background and events, because if the relationship takes long then there is usually something else happening as well.

4. Three dramas/shows you’d recommend?

Oh so many but it depends on what you search for. Also worth mentioning that I haven’t watched many dramas yet. I already tried to sell What We Do in the Shadows or The Good Place, so a few other shows I’d recommend: 

MindHunter to see FBl detective cases in the setting of 70s, when psychology was still not considered science and was laughed at. Follow the main characters who want to prove that with psychology we can understand criminal minds - or maybe even prevent tragedies - instead of assuming that people are born evil and it’s inevitable that they will commit crimes sooner or later. A very psychological and interesting story featuring actual interviews with serial kiIIers 

for a short supernatural story - The Haunting of Hill House if you’re okay with horrors and want an incredibly well made story full of rich characters and uncovering secrets of the past and present

for laughs - Misfits, to see a group of completely different people sentenced to community service, who get tangled up together because of an accident which gave them powers. Watch how they try to fit back in and tackle more supernatural occurrences around them, all the while learning about themselves and each other, growing and changing, and finding a family in each other despite all their differences. Warn about gore, expIicit content, crude humor xd It’s been many years since I watched it but I remember it as a fun and light show, I hope it’s not just my teenage self being into weird stupid stuff xD

7. Three songs you listen to?

Hhhh I don’t really listen to anything connected to the fandom (maybe except wuji piano+flute version bc that grabbed my heart). So let me throw a few songs which reminded me of some characters or events.

Brave New World by Kalandra (yt / sp) - xie lian during xianle war in the Cursed Book Four :’) I so would like to make a video with that x0 Would start at the beginning of the war while xl was safe and out of it, then continue to how he joined and tried to save everyone, then his breaking point, and would end with “You woke a fire inside of me / Fanned the flame and made it breathe” with xl @ wu ming who's just a second away from being consumed :’’’) The lyrics just HIT and the music stirs my soul so much, I love this piece and can fit it to so many places xd

Youth by Daughter (yt / sp) - jing qi @ helian yi, at least before his seventh final reincarnation :’) (I’m still reading) or Riverside by Agnes Obel (yt / sp) also kinda made me think about jing qi in the Yellow Springs by the River of Forgetfulness

Landfill by Daughter (yt / sp) - qijiu vibes (shen jiu @ yqy) OR alternatively bingqiu (lbh @ sqq after the abyss, during all the misunderstandings and sqq’s running away).

Darkest Hour by Low Roar (yt / sp) - wwx @ lwj (and partly jc) at the burial mounds siege:

I hope it hurts :’)

#ask #ask game #ask opinion #mdzs #cql #wangxian #tgcf #xie lian #svsss #qijiu #bingqiu #qi ye #jing beiyuan #qd archives #thank you for your asks love 💚 I will get to the other one soon shjcbsdj #long post #recommendations #music recs #ideas free to use if mentioned ✨

[iheartbookbran]

1/ Okay, this is going to be a bit of a long reply, but do you honestly think Jaime is comparable to Cersei? Cersei has never done a single good thing in her life, has been murdering kids since childhood, and hardly regrets a thing. But Jaime? Like, pre-AGOT, what great crimes has Jaime committed with Cersei, besides incest? It’s pretty clear from Cersei’s POV that she’s been acting autonomously on everything besides conceiving Joffrey. Jaime hasn’t been involved.

2/ Getting into ASOIAF, Bran: yes, totally unforgivable, but a classic trolley situation in which GRRM states most people would do the same. And Jaime has said he’s ashamed in-text, more on that later I presume. Arya: his absolute lowest point, and he acknowledges it as such. It comes at a time when he’s practically out of his mind following Bran, and disturbs the hell out of him later. But hold him to account for sure, this is the closest he ever gets to being like C.

3/ Baby Tully: personally, I think it’s pretty clear in-text that Jaime isn't going to do this. If you look harder at Jaime’s whole relationship with bluffing, the way bluffing is being discussed in these chapters, and Genna, an insightful character, saying Jaime is NOT like his father, it becomes obvious that this is just an ugly attempt at imitating Tywin, complete with trebuchet. It’s dark to threaten this at all, sure, but Edmure is expecting dark so Jaime serves it.

4/ Slut-shaming Cersei - I mean, his thoughts are pretty fucking unpleasant, but… he’s human? This woman has cheated on him, multiple times (and not just as a means to an end, see Taena) whilst asking him to throw away his entire life since he was 15 to remain loyal to her. But sure, let’s just call it slut-shaming lol, Jaime should obviously be proud of Cersei and support her in fucking whoever she likes?

5/ Jaime and consent: GRRM is appalling at writing consent, I totally agree (look at Asha and Qarl)… but he has outright said that the twins’ sex is consensual, whether it looks it or not. You are going to have to use death of the author here if you want to argue that it’s anything otherwise, but by all means call GRRM out for his bad portrayal of it. Tysha: Jaime already knows he was wrong, and it’s plagued him his entire life. But let's not hold him accountable for his dad's extremes.

Oh boy, ok, let’s unpack all this, shall we? Honestly if someone had told me even yesterday that I’d be reciveing Jaime anons out of all the characters, I wouldn’t believe them. Because, again, I’m no renowned Jaime expert and my investment in him extends to... he’s interesting alright, I hope he stays alive long enough so that Bran gets to fling some shit at his face at some point or another in the next two books, but that’s really it.

1. So on the “Cersei has never done a single good thing in her life, has been murdering kids since childhood, and hardly regrets a thing. But Jaime?” part of your ask. I don’t believe there’s much difference on when someone starts committing crimes and it makes it somehow less bad of you don’t begin in your childhood, Jaime could have been attempting to kill/maim children at 13 or at 33 and guess what I would still believe he’s an asshole for it. He’s made choices that involve harming others in the name of maintaining his precious affair with his sister and upholding his family’s crimes, and it doesn’t matter to me when he started on it. This is not a fucking “evilness” point accumulation and Jaime doesn’t get a pass just because Cersei got a head start.

2. “Bran: yes, totally unforgivable, but a classic trolley situation” Sorry, nonny, but did you just compared Jaime pushing Bran from a window so he could continue with his toxic relationship... to the fucking trolley problem? WTF? Jaime, a goddamn adult with critical thinking skills, chose to continue that affair for years and years while having full knowledge of what the consequences of being discovered could be. He chose to be reckless and take his chances anyways. He was between the sharp object and the hard place because he chose to put himself there, and he doesn’t get to say “well I had no other choice” now because he fucking did, for years, he had a choice, and he went ahead with the most selfish one and when the consequences of his actions almost caught up with him, he again choose to be a selfish jerk and harm an innocent bystander, a child, that had no part in any of it. And you could argue that he did it to protect his own children but lmao, Jaime really doesn’t care that much about his children, lbr; just remember how he thinks of Joffrey. Cersei never gave him the opportunity to connect with them that’s true, and he only starts to bond a little with Tommen during aFoC, but I just think that if Jaime truly, sincerely, cared that much about his children’s well-being he could’ve oh idk stopped having sex with his sister??? Instead of being in a position in which he has to ruin a little boy’s life so that he can go on his merry way, even if he feels bad about it, that will never be good enough for me. Jaime had a choice, Bran didn’t.

3. “Baby Tully: personally, I think it’s pretty clear in-text that Jaime isn't going to do this.” I mean, given Jaime’s track record of shoving children from windows so that he can cover his and his own family’s ass, I’m not so sure about that, but fine, that still doesn’t mean that threatening someone with killing their baby so that they will submit to your will any less of a jerk move. I also think you’re kind of missing the point: Jaime here wants to have his cake an eat it too. He tells himself he’s upholding his oath to Catelyn (he really isn’t) while at the same time siding with the fucking Freys and aiding them, he’s basically giving legitimacy to the Red Wedding, the one thing most people agree was a hideous unforgivable act. I just think that if I make the active choice to defend and side with criminals, then I’m not less of a criminal myself.

4. Lol, I made that slut-shaming comment with a clear tongue-in-cheek intent, I obviously know their relationship at present is far more complicated than that, and I do think Jaime has the right to feel betrayed, I just also think that Jaime has this tendency of glorifying Cersei without actually truly seeing her for what she is. At times I almost feel like he considers her the fair innocent maiden to his noble knight, and that’s a big farce to both of them. When Cersei inevitably fails to live up to his expectations he’s shocked, as if he hasn’t known her all their lives.

5. “GRRM is appalling at writing consent, I totally agree” yes of course, he’s the same guy who considers Dany/Drogo consensual, that doesn’t mean I can’t still call it out and see it as a flaw. But even more than that, as you say next: “Tysha: Jaime already knows he was wrong, and it’s plagued him his entire life. But let's not hold him accountable for his dad's extremes.” like, again Jaime recognizing something is wrong and feeling bad about it doesn’t magically absolves him of it. Of course he’s not responsible for his dad’s fuckery but he’s guilty of withholding the truth from his little brother, whom he claims to love, with the full knowledge that it was an extremely traumatic experience for him, and that it had plagued him all his life, while patting himself on the back thinking that’s the right thing to do, and Jaime rationalizes it believing that of course Tysha couldn’t possibly care for Tyrion, so she was doing it for the money, which makes her no better than a whore (because Jaime, too, can be a misogynist UwU). You know, Tyrion has a lot of bad going on for him, but my god he’s 100% right in being furious with Jaime in this situation.

Like as you said, Cersei’s big problem is her lack of empathy, but Jaime’s is his apathy. With some big exceptions like when he killed Aerys and protected Brienne, Jaime’s apathy towards what he fully well knows is wrong and yet choses not to do anything about it is my biggest qualm with him. It’s something I believe GRRM is working with his development, but so far as the story goes, he hasn’t really made any significant turn, so I’m not giving him a gold star for participation. I mean, I realize that I’m the minority here when it comes to my opinion of Jaime, and maybe, nonny, how you and other fans interpret him is how he’s meant to be interpreted, but I don’t care lol. Writing this made me remember what GRRM said...

“Sometimes he felt like showering after writing a chapter about Cersei, though, as her world-view is quite unsympathetic.”—In this article.

I honestly wonder why he had to take a shower for Cersei torturing people (who yes, is a horrible evil person, I’m not trying to defend her), but not for Tyrion strangling a woman or Jaime crippling a child for life, but oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#well now let’s stop talking about jaime i’m sick of him #better tell me about ur day anon babe #ask #Anonymous #ask pam #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #a song of ice and fire #valyrianscrolls #meta #my meta

[maxwell-grant]

I hope you don't mind me dropping asks on you every day? Anyways, a general question on modern-day attempts at using existing Pulp Heroes; do you think there is value in setting such tales in the modern day, rather than being period pieces? And if one does do so, do you think the best approach is to go full setting update, or to somehow translate the characters into the modern day, or to go the Legacy route?

I eagerly look forward to answering all kinds of questions, so don’t hesitate to send any my way!. Any feedback or excuse I get to go off on a subject is extremely appreciated. 

Okay so on to your question: 

...Man, that really seems like the billion dollar question when it comes to the pulp heroes, isn’t it? The one at least that every conversation regarding adapting these characters, giving them reboots or new stories, seems to inevitably get stuck on: Should these characters be left as is, or modernized? Is there any point to trying to modernize them when often, at least in the public view, the only thing that separates them from being diet superheroes is their time period? Can these characters even survive as anything other than historical footnotes if they don’t move past the trappings of time holding them back? I’ve been very firmly on both sides of the question at different points and I think every answer inevitably brings up solutions and problems of it’s own. 

For the moment, I’m going to start by saying that it’s something of a case by case basis. For example, The Scarlet Pimpernel is a timeless archetype, but one who’s specific characterization and history is so tied up to it’s time period that it’s far better to just reimagine the Pimpernel into a different character set in a different time, than to try and remove the Blakeneys from their time period, likewise with characters who cross into historical fantasy like Conan or western characters, where they have such strongly defined settings and playgrounds that you’d be losing much by removing them from it. 

But on the other hand, you have characters like The Phantom, or The Avenger, who very clearly could exist at just about any point in time and don’t have any specific complications holding them to the 30s (in fact The Phantom was arguably designed for this, being he kickstarted the whole legacy superhero concept). A lot of the times, people seem to think or insist that certain pulp characters cannot be separated from their time periods, even when they were well on their way to doing so before some unfortunate cancellation. The Shadow, for example. Gibson had no problems updating the character’s adventures to the 60s for the Belmont series, and if The Shadow had maintained the kind of continuous publication that Batman and Superman had, I have no doubt whatsoever that nobody would even peg him as a character that belongs to the 30s and the 30s only, even if a lot of important aspects of his character are tied up in 30s America and The Great War and whatnot. 

To try and streamline this response into something more general, I’m going to state that, yes, I do think it’s a case by case basis where some characters don’t work as well outside their time periods, and others should have left them ages ago, but in general? I think most of the pulp heroes would stand to benefit much more from being set, not just in modern times, but outside of time. Or at least, outside of a specific time period being something that defines and entraps them. Pretty much none of these characters, outside of historical fantasy examples like Conan or characters whose genres are locked into specific past time periods like cowboys, were intended to be period pieces, and yet that’s what they became, because time has been extremely cruel to the pulp heroes in many ways. 

To bring up superheroes briefly, while I maintain that I think the real secret to making pulp heroes work and achieve success again is to distance them from superheroes, or at least the popular blockbuster superheroes, as much as possible, the superheroes have been around running the show for a while now and experimenting a lot as an inescapable facet of pop culture that's worked out monstrously well so far,nso clearly there’s a lot to learn there. The superheroes by and large belong in shared universes held tight by copyright where the weight of accumulating timelines inevitably forces them to either undergo reboots every couple of years, or endure constant quiet retcons snipping away at continuity so the cohesive “Superhero Universes” can function. But there’s no such thing as some big “Pulp Hero Universe” existing anywhere near the same capacity, there’s works gesturing to the idea like the Wold Newton Universe and LOEG and Dynamite’s shared author works largely scrapped together from separate sources all drifting apart, and most of these characters have largely fallen through the cracks of copyright law and into outright non-existence, or are halfway there. Very few modern instances of "cinematic universes" outside of the MCU work, so what we do instead is go the opposite route, closer to DC's "throw anything at the wall to see what sticks" approach.

What I’m getting to is, I could flip through the pages of Jess Nevins’s Encyclopedia of Pulp Heroes, pick about 3 or 5 random characters, put them in a story regardless of whatever time period they used to be a part of, and make something out of it, without anyone stopping to question “Hey, hold up, why is Joel Saber not on Victorian England? Why are Uirassu and Tom Shark in a loving relationship when they don’t even belong in the same decade? Why did you turn Allan Crystal into a talking sparrow? You are betraying the source material, these characters don’t work outside of it”. Because nobody has any idea who those guys are, they might as well be just original names I made up (I didn't, btw), and nobody has any reason to care, they will only care if they read good, engaging stories with strong characterizations that give them a reason to be invested. And if achieving that requires ditching adherence to the source material (which doesn’t even exist anymore for at least a third of these characters), I cannot see that as a bad thing. 

He's nowhere near the ballpark of pulp heroes but I'm going to bring up King Arthur as an example because he’s been on my mind today. 

All of these, and countless others, are King Arthur. I’m no expert in Arthuriana, but from what I’ve gathered, I’d make a pretty good guess that one of the main reasons why King Arthur has been able to endure so strongly, and have so many variations that we have an entire area of study dedicated just to untangling those messes we call Arthuriana, has less to do with his historical or mythological importance (you hardly see that many stories about Cú Chulainn), but because the lore and imagery and events surrounding King Arthur have so utterly transcended the source material that people still dispute what the source material even was, or if he was a real person, or if he was created by the Welsh and stolen by Brits, and etc, and because he's completely free for any writers and artists to mold and use to anything they see fit.

King Arthur is not so much a character as much as he’s a sandbox that literally anyone can play in and reshape as they see fit, with no shortage of existing events and characters and magical items that you can treat as either essential staples, or guidelines and suggestions at best. I have three separate ideas for King Arthur as a big shark man in a greaser outfit who yields an oversized hair comb with fishhooks attached as Excalibur, one where he’s a monstrous dragon who sleeps in the ruin of his former kingdom guarding the only remaining memory of Guinevere left, and one where he’s a disembodied consciousness inside a giant mechanical bear. I could pick any of these and make a story out of them, or insert these into a story, any time I want, and nobody could stop me.

Point is, I think a lot, even most, of the pulp heroes would benefit from having some kind of “no-holds-barred, just do anything you want out of whatever you find interesting about the original” approach, a lot more so than the superheroes already do, because if there’s a single group of characters nowadays that best embodies an “anything goes” approach, a group that is almost entirely in public domain nowadays save for it’s biggest icons and therefore is already available for people to take and spin any way they want, it’s the pulp heroes. These characters have been in stasis for so long, or all but faded into nothingbbut mere footnotes in encyclopedia or records in libraries not even available online, and sometimes not even that. Most of their fanbases have largely died off and they are nowhere near close to gaining new ones, and our changing media tastes call for contrasts as much as it calls for profit. No sensible person would invest in most of these properties as they stand now, which is precisely what ultimately gives them the freedom to be anything at the conceptual stage. The only thing that really, really holds them back is time, which, again, has really not been kind to them. So why adhere to it? Screw time and whatever power it’s long held over these characters, let’s get weird with it. 

So if I have to choose between “full setting update, translating the characters to modern day, or the Legacy route”, all three of which are perfectly viable depending on the character, I think the best option, generally speaking, is full setting update, if only because the setting should never be the main priority in the first place. The setting, like everything else, is there to serve the story and the author’s needs and wants, and I’m of the opinion that the setting should always primarily exist in service of the characters, as my writing and my favorite writings are all character centered above all else.

I think putting the pulp heroes in radically different time periods and settings could even yield interesting results. Genndy Tartakovsky’s Primal stars a caveman Conan/Tarzan type protagonist interacting with dinosaurs, Alan Moore’s V for Vendetta is a Shadow-esque character set loose in a dystopian future, Grendel is the Fantomas of 1980s New York, and so on. The precedent is there and I think it can be taken much further.

Really I think a lot of the problems and arguments that have arisen over the years in regards to adapting the pulp heroes often result of people overthinking things, lord knows I do enough of that all the time. I really think it’s just something that only seems impossible because it hasn’t really been done yet. Of course, in regards to The Shadow I obviously have a whole different text as to whether I’d want him to be adapted or not, but in general, my ultimate response to what you asked is just do whatever you think is gonna make the story better and the characters more interesting. A.K.A, do whatever you want. 

[spicyhoneyheart]

Cycle

Hi! I hope you're all doing well! I've been quite busy this week with my own projects but I also helped with a fundraiser event with my printmaking collective. It went very well and some of my donated prints went home with such lovely people! It was a very nice evening. Another wholesome thing: while the Commissions for Cause was a bust, I had one person follow up after the event in hopes of a commission. I told him that he could wait until the next charity event (so the proceeds could go for a cause), or pay directly to me as the artist, which he ended up deciding without hesitating. I kept the rate as it appeared on the charity event though; I had hoped the lower-priced items would invite more to donate but it did not! So I will adjust the list to directly reflect the materials and labour. This one was fine though, aside from translating the difficult pose it wasn't any trouble. As thanks for being the first to commission at all, I gifted him a complimentary print to choose from. I really enjoyed the experience! News aside, it's time to dive into another section of my concepts: Narrative. More specifically, the narrative of Hope and Despair. I was first invigorated to pursue this topic from one of my favourite video games, Shadow of the Colossus. It's been through a few remasters but it's been an influence of mine since its first release in 2005. Fumito Ueda, the creator of the game, tells a story of cruelty through abstraction and minimalism, dubbing his approach as design by subtraction. This approach is a method he developed to ensure that the idea or “feeling” of his concepts are unclouded by overt substance and clear narrative, oddly reminiscent of Romantic sublime qualities. To be more specific, the size of the monsters the player is faced to kill, the picturesque landscape spanning countless leagues, and the instances of overwhelming saturations of light fulfill some of Edmund Burke's guidelines. The narrative one can derive from this game is one of cruelty and senseless sacrifice, as illustrated by this quote: “when you have killed all sixteen colossi, you feel loss rather than triumph”. I feel that the basis of Shadow of the Colossus' narrative lends to the relationship between hope and despair, in which the confrontation of certain consequences results in further sacrifice, but this time in the form of reconciliation. In literature, Paradise Lost is a great example that explores this narrative. John Milton's epic poem recounts the fall of humanity through a more elaborate retelling of what occurred in the Garden of Eden, starting with Satan's own fall from heaven and ending with Jesus' resurrection. It is through the consumption of fruit from the Tree of Knowledge that original sin is birthed and final death is introduced to the world, the consequence for disobeying God: “Greedily [Eve] engorged without restraint, and knew not eating death” (Milton, Book 9: 791 – 792). When further investigating the significance of the gardens that exist in Christianity, consequences of Adam and Eve's actions are thus noted: “No longer would Adam and Eve enjoy a flawless environment. Instead, among other things, childbirth pains would intensify and man's labour became toilsome and less efficient as thorns and thistles would infest the ground – the ground to which they would ultimately return in death.” ​It is this mistake taking place in Eden that creates a deep despair in which neither Adam nor his ancestors can ever personally repent. However, the poem expresses that this ordeal may have been somewhat fortunate. According to Christian belief, it is in the coming of “the second Adam”, Jesus Christ, that humanity can also experience salvation. Jesus suffers in Gethsemane and dies in Calvary, absolving the sin Adam and Eve committed under Satan's advice. The story of Paradise Lost provides a much more personal conceptualization of Christianity's pursuit of redemption and everlasting life by explaining the birth and conquest of the final death, which relates to my interest in post-mortem beauty and a beautiful death. Which we'll get to later!! In my process document, I go into a very quick explanation of what hope and despair contribute to our lives. Experiencing a balance of both in your life contributes to the growth and maintenance of the human soul. A surplus of either entity will result in overconfidence and complacency (hope) or debilitating anxiety (despair). Nobody chooses to experience tragedy, nor do they enjoy it, but it's important not to live life fearing it or treading delicately through life to avoid it, because it's inevitable. It's going to find you at any point and in any form, and what you can choose to do is be open to it and its presence. Address it as what it is and come to an understanding. I feel the most prevalent despair that we share as a sentient species is the fear or dread of death. Romanticist artist Francisco Goya, in the later years of his life, composed the Black Paintings. These murals displayed horrific scenes on the walls of his living room, dining room, hallways... I believe these to be results of Goya coming to terms with his fear of death and mental state. Frescos such as The Drowning Dog and Saturn allowed Goya to release all tension accumulated during his lifetime. He was able to explore themes of sorrow, pathos and panic with complete freedom. I argue that this form of expression is a way of confronting despair and crafting hope for self-care. Experiencing close encounters with death, he bought a property away from the city and chose to express himself in ways that no patron would have the mind to request. These paintings were meant for his own private viewing, in which he expelled these morbid scenes from his mind and onto his walls. Upon given a form, despair and death seemed much more manageable.

Other instances can be a bit more subtle in terms of addressing death. Vanitas still-life acted simultaneously as a comment on Dutch citizens' vanity for their material possessions and as a prompt that mortality is temporary. Memento mori, the reminder of death. The presence of certain iconography, like skulls, timepieces, or cracked walnuts imply something or someone that no longer exists elsewhere exists in the painting. The commissioning of such pieces connotes a belief that paintings immortalize the presence of whomever the vanitas is referring to. Artists often inserted small self-portraits of themselves for this reason, given that any of the objects have a reflective surface. I believe that this idea helped artists and patrons alike with handling the idea of death, reminding them that their worldly possessions will not serve them in the afterlife. The idea that there is an afterlife at all strips death of its finality, making it more easy to accept.

But we don't know what lies in the realm of death. A garden, a kingdom, or pure darkness. We can believe what we've been taught or believe the accounts of those revived when they flatline. Or call it all lies. We believe what makes us feel better about it because we know it's inevitable. The key, I feel, is to not be consumed with a fear for it, neither be so careless or apathetic to its existence. You know, a balance of hope of despair. Coming full circle, baby! Personally I try to take a more positive outlook on death. I focus in on the idea life goes on even when our life doesn't. I am in love with the idea that once I'm gone, some new form of life or spirit flourishes in my remains. There is something so dang gorgeous about post-apocalyptic scenery, where nature reclaims the industrial landscape. Life and death, hope and despair, are not simply cycles to me, but coils. It's gonna be different, but the same, every time. Things got a bit grim, but we'll get over it. This one has a few paragraphs from my research essay two years ago, which provided a basis for my process document and my 2019 thesis works, Anthrocopia and Self-Vanitas. Next week I'll dive into how all of this relates to the contemporary sphere and to my practice. Take care, Gosia

#death #hope #despair #art #concepts #shadowofthecolossus #franciscogoya #goya #romanticism #vanitas #vanitasstilllife #urbanruin #postapocalyptic #anthropocene

[gay4klaus]

Ben the Backbone

Because @bloodymaryninikizi couldn’t read it on AO3, I’m putting it here! :)

Alternatively, you can read it on AO3 here. [protective ben hargreeves, ben x klaus, ben is tired of the hargreeves’ shit]

The Commission’s raison d'être proved true to its bone as the Hargreeves swallowed themselves into a blue light emanating from Number Five’s powers, collecting pieces of the past so Five could throw them all into it. There was no stopping the destruction of a world meant to die by Vanya’s unknowing strength. By now, the earth would have been vaporized, no corner left untouched by the wrath of its intensity.

When the noise subsided, the Hargreeves got up slowly from the rubble. Klaus was the first to look up, counting his siblings one by one to ensure they all made it through. Surrounding them were streaks of morning light and primary-colored bars meant for people smaller than him.

“Is everybody okay?” he asked the crowd just now moving their limbs and sitting up.

Five was the last to awaken, which was unlike him. The others worried he put his body under too much stress taking everyone with him to an unknown time so they could have enough of it to “fix” Vanya, as he had mentioned earlier, and still somehow prevent what was meant to be.

When Five came to, Diego helped him up on his feet, Klaus dusting off the dirt and dust that accumulated on his suit when they travelled. “What time are we in?” he asked, looking at everyone as if he’d been drugged the night before.

“We’re not sure yet.” It was Luther who replied, eyes on Vanya and wide awake. His cautiousness around her was unwarranted, but understandable. She was still resting in Allison’s arms and ruminating on the damage that she’d done. She wasn’t ready to dive into anything significant yet, still holding the weight of her inevitable responsibility. Luther’s weariness was unfazed.

“We might be in the nineties,” Allison said, looking around and realized they were in a playground she recognized a few blocks from the Academy. Her hands continued to massage Vanya’s shoulder, hovering over her protectively.

“It’s exactly how I remember it.”

The Hargreeves turned to the owner of the voice, all but Klaus imbued with utter shock to hear such a distinct, familiar voice, but one which they hadn’t heard in years. It was like opening a box of memories after forgetting it existed. Ben.

Klaus looked at Ben, who looked at everyone else. His face also sported a look of bewilderment, and then he looked at Klaus for verification, as if asking, Did they hear me, too?

Klaus walked up to his brother slowly, trying to look through him to see if it was possible. He didn’t want to get his hopes up but couldn’t help the excitement that was churning inside of him. He reached out his hand, inching closer to Ben’s jawline. Before he could touch him, he looked at his other siblings, asking, “Do you guys see him, too?”

The Hargreeves nodded in synchronicity, even Five wide-eyed and full of wonder. They all seemed to be holding their breath, waiting to see what Klaus would do.

He turned back to Ben, who was just as still as everyone else. If he had a heartbeat, he thought, it would be beating right out of his chest. Klaus continued his hand motion, and as he was about to touch Ben’s jaw, he felt goosebumps go down his spine.

His fingertips stopped, feeling the texture of Ben’s shaven skin. The Hargreeves gasped in unison.

Klaus clasped Ben’s jaws with both his hands, relief and joy spilling over his eyes as Ben started to panic, but in a good and powerful and ecstatic way. Klaus closed in on him, embracing him for the first time since they were 17.

“Oh my god,” Klaus rejoiced.

“I’m really here,” Ben said under his breath, still trying to piece everything together in his analytical mind. “I’m back.”

Even Vanya had risen off the ground, amazed to be seeing their brother in front of her. Somehow, this seemed to make her causing the world to vanish a mere dent in her past. If that was what had to happen to ensure Ben came back to them, alive and breathing, then maybe it would be enough to justify what she did, even as selfish as it was.

Klaus turned around, relieving Ben of the tight hug he had been given. “You guys, Ben’s here. He’s alive. He’s not just in my head anymore,” he cheered in happiness.

Immediately, the whole clan moved in to welcome him back to the living, some smiling so big that tears pooled in their eyes, but they didn’t let them drop. The excitement of the moment even put Five in high spirits.

“This must mean we’re doing the right thing—we’re in the right timeline to save the world.” Five looked at his family, at the people who’ve allowed him to experience a home after decades of time-travelling and no time to think about how it felt to be loved in years. “If Ben is alive now, that means we’re in the past where he is still alive, and now we have the full force of the Umbrella Academy to band together again and stop the apocalypse from happening.”

His speech was celebrated by more cheers. Even tough-guy Diego squeezed Ben’s shoulder tight after listening to Five talk about uniting to save the world, still confused at how all of this would turn out to resolve what they know will come, but managing to look positively at the outcome with all of his siblings by his side. He couldn’t help but have Mom on his mind, his recent memory of her a dark and painful wave of emotion he couldn’t bear to think about. He could save her through all of this, too.

Ben, accustomed to years of being alone save for Klaus being the only one who could interact with him, was overwhelmed with the show of affection towards his return. He had fantasized of this moment, of someone, anyone, acknowledging him—but he worried that it wouldn’t last. He worried this may just be part of Klaus’s developing powers, that at any moment, he would turn to dust and become only visible to Klaus again.

So, he needed to take this opportunity now, before it was too late. He owed it to Klaus, to the one person who allowed him to stay in the living world, even if it meant he would be wandering it in silence.

“I’m really glad I’m here. I don’t even know how this is happening, but,” Ben started, looking into the eyes of each of his siblings, “I need to make sure things are right this time around, if we’re going to save the world.”

Ben’s eyes lowered to the ground, finding the words, then back up with resolution in his expression. “I have been with Klaus from the beginning—not that I could choose—” his eyes glazed over at Klaus “—but I know one thing’s for sure watching everyone from a close distance and not being able to interfere or help Klaus explain. His autonomy has been stripped away and none of you have noticed. You belittle him and take him for granted when he’s been through everything and more than you’ll ever experience, or want to experience, for the rest of your lives.”

His tone sounded accusatory and his siblings were taken aback by it. Vanya looked at Klaus and saw the same shock that was on their faces.

“Did you even realize that Klaus had been kidnapped for days before he came back to the Academy? No one came looking for him. No one except for that detective friend of yours,” he said, looking right at Diego and seeing his jaw clench at the mention of Eudora. “He’d been abused, and to top it all off, he’d been neglected, by all of you. Seriously. Hazel and Cha-Cha had been torturing him for hours before he was saved. They took his drugs, and you all know very well how it gets for Klaus when he’s in withdrawal. You know the kinds of things he sees and hears when he’s not self-medicating. I would’ve been just like you, thinking Klaus was just being Klaus and running off to do some despicable stuff, but have you ever thought about what it might be like for him, having these powers and not being able to find himself through it all? But I was there. I saw him endure immense pain. I saw him at his worst.”

Klaus trembled. The words Ben was saying, defending him being the first thing he wanted to express to their siblings the first chance he got; it broke his heart but filled him up with so much warmth, he didn’t know what to say. His heart pounded faster with each word.

“And did any of you realize how much he’d changed since he got back? If you took the time to notice him, to talk to him and let him speak his mind without giving him shit for it, just because he’s said the wildest things before—it doesn’t make him any less human in need of validation. You didn’t give him an ounce of a chance to express what he’s been through in the past week.”

“Klaus—what’s Ben talking about?” Luther asked.

“He travelled into the past.” Five looked down, ruminating on Ben’s words. He was right, after all. He had been so consumed with the apocalypse that he didn’t bother to ask Klaus what had happened in his ten months of disappearance. He did seem more melancholic than usual, but Five didn’t think he would have the time to hear about it. Or the patience.

Diego looked somber, only now realizing Klaus’s actions and finding meaning behind it—the veteran’s bar scene, the sudden love interest, the different ways Klaus would behave. He didn’t understand it, but it made sense now, and he was disappointed in himself how much of it he didn’t piece together.

“He fought in the front lines of the Vietnam war and came back after losing a loved one, and you—” Ben pointed at Luther, his head shaking in frustration. “He needed someone to talk to and you went around looking for an outlet when Klaus needed you. I told him that if it were him in the situation you were in, looking for trouble on the streets so you could forget what Dad had put you through, you would have done everything in your power to come looking for him. But I might have been wrong.”

He huffed, so much more to say, but feeling like a detention supervisor yelling at kids who were just now learning there were consequences to their actions and inactions. “What I’m saying is, I’m not going to tolerate the dismissal of Klaus anymore. I’ve been in his shadow now. I see where we fail as a family, and we need to do better, for each and every one of us. We’re not going to save anybody if we can’t help each other face our personal demons.”

After all was said and done, it was Vanya who stepped forward, her eyes on Klaus and filled with regret. There was so much to apologize for, so many words dripping from her tongue, but she couldn’t form the right sentences, so all she said was, “I didn’t know. Klaus, I’m so sorry.”

Klaus shook his head. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Vanya.” He looked back at everyone who had unknowingly revealed the same type of chagrin on their faces that their sister had. “It’s been a hard couple of days for me, but I’m so glad I get to spend this moment with you. With everyone.” He smiled and winked at Ben.

Ben winked back. “I got you, buddy,” he mouthed.

From then on, Klaus believed it. Seeing everyone surrounding him, supporting him—it was something he’d been urging to feel that he never realized he needed before. This was the moment that all of the Hargreeves promised to put their family first above anything else.

#fic request #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #number five #diego hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #fanfiction #tua fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 #umbrella academy fanfiction

[myfriendpokey]

Morality Play

What does it mean to have a videogame tell you you're a good person? It doesn't know me, can't see me. I don't know if you can be *immoral* in a single player game outside of some very inventive custom controls. Why should I care what a game says? Any inner moral life that a videogame or a painting might possess would be more alien to me than that of a bug or a starfish. Of course videogames and paintings are made by humans, and shaped by the moral opinion of humans.. but we might make a distinction between what the human says and the object says, we might still feel the latter is more important, somehow. 

The moral authority of an artwork or object comes from the fact that it's not quite human, that it comes to us from outside humanity to an extent, is distinguished from the unreliable back and forth of human consciousness in motion. But this distance is exactly why you might expect those moral verdicts to be unintelligible to us, or at the very best, to be untrustworthy, an imitation. So what's the appeal – that of having a human voice which speaks with the gravitas of an immortal object? The pleasant conceit that the general shape of our minds is universal, like all those Star Trek aliens that are just regular guys with slightly weirder ears or foreheads? The void speaks, and turns out to sound like a computer engineer.

But maybe not necessarily, maybe in fact it's sometimes not universal authority and moral support that we seek from the object: maybe a certain jankiness of verdict around the way these things communicate in human terms is itself part of the appeal. I think of paper fortune tellers, magic eight-balls, "love tester" machines that return a romantic prognosis based on palm temperature. The entrancing bathos of the chance-driven or mechanistic judgement that still speaks with a human voice: I’m sorry, I cannot answer right now. Please shake me, so I may try again. How different is that to the widely beloved and magnificently broken romance system in Dragon's Dogma, where, spoilers: your "soulmate" is not a matter of direct moral choice, but of variables being tracked over the course of the game including who you talked to and what sidequests you completed - which means it could arbitrarily turn out to be the weapons merchant, or a grandpa npc you found a potion for. Which is goofy, but only in a slightly more blatant way than "accidentally unlocking the romantic option in a dialogue tree from just clicking around" or "having your morality score drop 5 points because you pressed the wrong button and accidentally hurled a rock at someone's head while trying to equip shoes". 

I think something I appreciate about videogames is the kind of insectlike moral life that they tend to portray, the sense of value systems which are in some way recognisable but which have mutated in conversion to something alien and horrifying. Lara Croft shooting a wild eagle is unfortunate, Lara Croft shooting a thousand wild eagles is bizarre – but really those thousand eagles are just the one eagle, the one self-contained pulp encounter fantasy, which has been extended, extrapolated, systemised as result of being placed in this machine. The latter may be more egregious but it’s still composed of repeated incidents of the original encounter - and part of the strangeness in these games is just the uncomprehending machine effort to systemise the half-formed gunk substance of our terrible fantasy lives, which only bear a vague and halfhearted relation to any notion of ethics in any case.. We can contemplate with envy and excitement the possibilities of running more realistic, recognisable emotional and moral situations through the meatgrinderof the format in this way. How about a solemn middlebrow videogame about divorcing 50 different wives, each one larger and more powerful than the last (excluding sprite recolours)? 

All this is not to say that the casual political and moral stupidity already in videogames should simply be excused or exist outside of critique. But in addition to the body of discourse  around "moral commodities" - commodities invested with moral  or political meaning independent of any brutal labour practices they might entail or monopolistic accumulation of private  wealth they might support – I think it's also worth considering the purpose of the "moral object" itself. The alienation intrinsic to the object form can be a way to think, and also a way to avoid thinking. To project moral beliefs away from the specific context of a creaturely human existence can be a way of expanding that existence, but also of denying it. The paltriness of the human can itself be problematic next to the splendour of the object, and the reflected moral superiority of those with the means of producing such objects.

*****

There's a famous line in the Spiderman comics that with great power comes great responsibility. But it's also kind of a weird line because, while obviously applicable to Spiderman, the person it's actually delivered to is Peter Parker - who is, for all his uncle knows, still a physically awkward and friendless nerd with no immediately visible "great power" to speak of. He does like nuclear physics, though - maybe the advice was intended as a friendly intervention to keep him from turning into the next Edward Teller? Or possibly it's just a kind of unconscious, pulp-writer-trance-appropriation of the muscular liberal rhetoric of the then-current Kennedy administration. Or maybe, and stretching a bit, it's a line that relates more to the conditions of pulp culture manufacturing itself, to the awareness that the stuff you make will be printed thousands of times and sold to kids around the country, poured raw into the national subconsicous. With great sales figures comes great responsiblity.

I mention it because I think it connects to an issue with the kind of cultural criticism that emerged, like it or not, from the specific context of an age of mass media. With great power comes great responsibility - but conversely, to execute your great responsibility you also need great power. And what are you meant to do if you don't have it? Does no power mean having no responsibility? It's possible, but i feel like most people would be dubious about this as a moral lesson - and the inescapability of heavily-financed blockbusters in the culture means that an assumption of already "having great power" sometimes becomes a critical starting point. If you don't have power you should get it, so that you can then have great responsibility and contribute to the discourse. The effect can sometimes be like climbing a mountain of corpses to get a better platform for your speech about world peace.

A good essay on jrpgsaredead.fyi points out the way that certain industry conversations on "accessibility" revolve specifically around access to whatever mainstream AAA action games are currently dominating the news cycle. And the related effect where both problems and proposed solutions are particular to these games, the audience they have, and the resources they can bring bear: More consultants! More characters! More romance options! Better character creators! If you're speaking to an (essentially captive, given the marketing monies involved) audience of five million people you'd better be sure your ideas are, at least, not actively harmful, and in fact should ideally be improving - - fine. How about an audience of 50 people? Or an audience of 0? Does that mean this work is less moral than what speaks to a larger crowd - in effect, that it's worse? And what about the relationship to audience that this kind of teaching implies? i can think of several occasions where people from different subcultures or minority groups were reprimanded because something in their own experience might read differently, or problematically, when presented to a presumably white/cis/affluent etc audience - which is of course the audience that matters, because what's the value of presenting work from an alternative perspective to an audience already familiar with that perspective, to whom it has no automatic moral significance (might, in fact, merely be 'aesthetic')? Compare the complexity of a specific local audience which can think for itself to the easy win of the alternative:  a phantasm audience of moral blanks to whom rote lessons in hypothetical empathy can be tastefully and profitably imparted over and over, forever.

****

If the ethical act is that which we'd be willing to posit as universal law, perhaps we could say: the ethical artwork is that which we'd be willing to mass produce. Small or hobbyist developers are encouraged to work from the perspective of a mass-productive capacity they do not in fact possess; their successes and inevitable failures are hoovered up alike by the industry proper for later deployment in the form of cute dating sim or inspirational narrative with similar but sanitized tone or aesthetic. In essence a kind of moral QA testing, with all the job security and recompense that this implies. 

The hobbyist is, by definition, not universal: they are enclosed within the local and the material. What time do you get off work? What materials do you have to hand? Are those materials always legal? The entire western RPG Maker community exists as result of widespread bootlegging; the entirety of videogame history and preservation essentially depends on stolen copies; we find out about it through ROMs, videos and screenshots which mostly depend for their continued existence on copyright holders either not finding out or choosing not to pursue these debateable violations.  It's a complicated discussion whether this stuff can be justified on a general, universal level - but also I'm not sure we can do without it. When Fortnite uses dances from TV and music videos of living memory they're considered to be in the public domain; but Fortnite itself is not in the public domain, even though it's so inescapable that even I have a pretty good idea of what it looks and plays like despite having made a pretty determined effort to not find out anything about it. It's "public culture" in that sense, and it includes public culture within it, but both game and imagery are privately owned and aggressively policed (suing teenage hackers, etc). What does it mean for art to emerge from an ever more privatized sense of public life?

In 2007 the RPG Maker game Super Columbine Massacre RPG was added to, then removed from, the Slamdance festival following complaints; it was a minor cause celebre at the time following concerns about censorship and the lack of protections for expression in the videogame format specifically following the Jack Thompson media crusade in the United States. In 2019 the same festival retrospectively changed their reasoning: now the game had no longer been removed on the basis of questionable taste, but on the basis of questionable compliance with copyright law, since it included music from the likes of Smashing Pumpkins without paying for licensing fees (and also because the author generally "hadn’t created several of its elements" - asset flips!!!). There's some humour in the fact that a benign-sounding concern with "artist's rights" could just be swapped in as a more respectable-sounding surrogate for general prudery with exactly the same result. But also, in this instance, what does it mean about the game? As facile as SCMR is, the bootleg use of graphics and music was its most interesting element: the game was a bricolage of American pop culture at a specific point in time, as were the killers, as are we. The nearness and recognisability of that culture, the sense of not being able to get enough distance from it to properly fictionalise or think about what happened, is what stands out. An "ethical" version of the same game which used original music - Nirvanalikes, some tastefully copyright-adjacent Marilyn Manson clones - would not just be diminished, it would be actively insulting in the false distance it implied.

I don't mean this at all as a request for more edgelord-ism. But it's worth remembering that videogames themselves are not ethical; are, in fact, colonized materials assembled with exploitative labour and dumped aimlessly into public life by electronics corporations looking to make a buck. The bizarre and haphazard ways this long dump of poor decisions has manifested, warped, been adjusted into culture is part of what's worth attending to about the format – I think it's worth looking closer into all these pools of murkiness, before ethical  landlords can come drape a tarp over them as part of the process of divvying up the property.

(image credits: youkai douchuuki, quiz nanairo dreams, trauma center: under the knife, espial)

#gamechat #games criticism #moral

[maulionicious-blog]

PRENATAL

Prenatal development, this follows 2 developmental patterns are cephalocaudal pattern and proximidistal pattern. Cephalocaudal pattern growth that proceeds from the head downward. While Proximidistal pattern growth that proceeds from the body outward. The fetus is responsive to stimuli and appears to learn in the womb. Prenatal temperamental differences persist into infancy and childhood, and some aspects of the prenatal sensory environment maybe important to future development. There are risks associated with teratogenic material diseases these include rubella, AIDS, syphilis, gonorrhoea, genital herpes, and CMV. If a mother has poor nutrition, her fetus faces increased risks of stillbirth, low birth weight, and death during the first year of life.

               When I realized prenatal, I really don’t know if this past is real that I remember or not because before I come into this world I started seeing pink path flowing through the clouds of what I see it depicts that makes me travel at that time I was like watching from what just I saw passes me by. I don’t know if these are real or that was inside my head but from what i see that looks like stars maybe a nebula of some kind galaxies. When I was born I thought it was like a space shuttle which I was riding but that’s it that is how I end up either I imagine that or it was like I saw how I really travel from that part and even so I choose to forget it.

INFANCY  

In infancy, many were able to say first words or other making sounds like cooing and anything that the baby emotion has express. The humans are born with adaptive reflexes that help them survive. Automatically sucking any object that enters the mouth, disappear in infancy or childhood. Primitive reflexes controlled by the less sophisticated parts of the brain. Sensorimotor stage, infants use information from their senses and motor actions to learn about the world. Object Permanence understanding that objects continue to exist when they can’t be seen. The infant has attachment things to the parents to identify his or her parents.

I didn’t remember what I do but I experience how difficult I was since my first guardian abused me then my parents forced me to go in Tagum were my grandparents can take care of me while my parents can do their work on their own. I was lucky and happy which leads to me being naughty and I was a difficult child to handle. From that past I was never recognized who are my parents was because all I know my parents are my grandparents thought they were real to me. And from that day I was quiet and suddenly would be different than any other day.

 EARLY CHILDHOOD

           The measuring intelligence an assumption in studying differences in intelligence is that these differences can be measured. The first tests led by Alfred Binet and Theodore Simon to identify children who might have difficulty in school. This intelligence was later called Intelligence Quotient (IQ). The intelligence of child affects the influences in the family it depends how they raised their child. Parenting styles differ in temperament themselves, so, just like their children; they vary in how they respond to situations. The four types of parenting styles are permissive parenting style, authoritarian parenting type, authoritative parenting type, and uninvolved parenting style.

             When I was elementary student I was a running around person until they set new rules for me. My parents were became permissive or strict in general term, they intended to bring me after class hours in the tutorial centre to guide me through my topics and some of that I became a nuisance to others who were studying there too I suppose that I never learn anything that days. It may be different from today because I realized that studying is important and I learn through their reasons why my parents are so very strict to me. As of today I realize something that even when in difficult struggle, can be trying harder again to accomplish once goal.

      MIDDLE CHILDHOOD

           Physical and cognitive changes the way for being a middle childhood. Many children participate in such clubs like sports, arts, and etc. This has intellectual interest about their health, fitness, and academic performances were concerned. The cognitive changes which term for their language on how they initialize their potential to make it in time. Achievement tests are designed to assess specific information learned in school. The relationships of parents and also friends are important to keep the bonds together and strong no matter the problems are and their child and friends help to sustain their courage to do so in the end.    

           Middle child hood for me is about the pressure and sometimes I ignore the mistakes I did but I never well go around. I focus more on ignoring stuff playing a gadget my prioritize time that I did than studying. I never concern about my health and fitness, I always drink soda and eating junk foods. I had friends before, friends that see u one time then ignore me instantly, only cares when I am bullied by my classmate then they come and when the problem solves they’re gone. Parents can courage to their child something more and something wonderful to be great.  

 ADOLESCENCE

           Adolescence is the transitional period between childhood and adulthood. They’re puberty changes as primary and secondary sex characteristics, which their hormone as menarche which is the beginning of menstrual cycles. Adolescent sexuality can be so tempting and there are risks factor which led to sexual situation. Teens nowadays engaged in sexual activities were often seeing on television shows like the Pretty Little Liars. An adolescent learns and changes their gender identity as they confirm themselves gay, lesbians, and bisexuals. Most of the teens engaged in drugs, alcohol, and tobacco which of them bring out the curiosity of teenagers are sensation seeking.

           As I experience there are things which is evolving around me my sexual characteristics that I don’t understand which leads me to confusion. After that when I saw some television shows that romantic love scene how to proper court someone and make fell in love. Creating sexual desires in their dream longing for someone to be loved and that is how is. I tried to be gay for a contest which I had someone make up for me and quite a lot of fun to give laughter for everyone in just a nick of a time. I am into alcohol but not a strong one; I usually drink if there is an occasion going on with my parent’s permission.

EARLY ADULTHOOD      

           Primary aging occurs most of them develop gray hair, wrinkles, and changes in visual acuity. While Secondary aging is the product of environmental influences, health habits, or disease, and it is neither inevitable nor experienced by all adults. Health habits shows the detection of illness can see what kind of illness is and can determine can be prevent it or not. Sexual Transmitted Disease which the humans never use contraceptives to protect from it and they were getting from it through sexual intercourse. Most intimate partners’ abuses which due to most reasons are jealousy of having their partners seeing someone. Career development focused on adapting to the workplace, managing career transitions, and pursuing personal goals through employment.

             I may develop gray hair but I always thought of something that an illness which of the disease may try to kill me in the only way to die but I always thought the diabetes is the reason why I die. I will never know which would be so my fate will be decided which one of the diseases. I had always doubt about my lifestyle and I am getting obese more than ever. Career development for me is different, imagine where would I be sitting and seeing I help people. I really dream about not only becoming a RPm but maybe becoming an air force pilot someday.

     MIDDLE ADULTHOOD

            Most of men and women having osteoporosis resulting in reduced bone mass and more brittle and porous bones. Vision and hearing can be sudden changes for adulthood which began to decrease the retina and person’s overall sensitivity to light waves. Health and Wellness can be so devastating when it comes to illnesses which started by imbalance diet or any hobbies like smoking that lead to lung cancer. Memory function drawing conclusions about memory rarely include middle-aged people. They were being generosity is their care, give what they can give for their grandkids. They struggle long enough to survive from their illness.

             I really imagine that what could be waiting for me if I suffer an illness which is different from early adulthood of mine. I should be hardly and slowing to move my body as I was beginning to had crack bones of mine with its sound. As I imagine a lot what would be the life of me in 60 years age of me look like exactly. I can be grown old, grumpy, and sad living in home for the aged or even live with grandkids of my own. It is really hard that thinking way more about it is just never ever will happen if I just don’t let it.  

 LATE ADULTHOOD

           Life expectancy and longevity improvements in these variables among the elderly themselves over the past several decades are responsible for changes in the expected lifespans of adults in their 60s and beyond. General slowing the biggest single behavioural effect of age-related physical changes is a general slowing down. Wisdom and creativity elders might have some advantages over the young because of their accumulation of knowledge and skills. Wisdom reflects understanding of “universal truths” or basic laws or patterns. Life satisfaction or a sense of well-being is also an important component of successful aging. Religious beliefs are the component of religious coping involves people’s beliefs and attitudes.

             Life can be full of surprises when realize about something that can be precious to our love ones and we expands our life expectancy to experience more and thank God that we exist long lives today and some of old of us can be slow to stimuli. We do believe our own will to find out how our experiences can show to others how we make it and offer as a good advice to others that may help to guide others away from dangerous paths they never cross. Life of our existence is constant and I would say that it is okay for me to live this life, I owe it to the end of my last breathe for I shall die happy person. Religious gives you the morality and the spirituality which gives the inner peace of our mind and channels our prayer to our God.

[tanyaryanmusic]

Hey Lady. How Old Are You??

My name is Tanya. I am 31 years, 7 months and 25 days old. 

I was born in 1987. I grew up with Cabbage Patch Kids, Loonie Tunes, and Polly Pocket (version 1.0); and when I was 10 I wanted to be (or meet) a Spice Girl more than I wanted anything else in the whole world. 

Everything they said about your 30s is true. It’s way more gooder than the other ages I’ve experienced. (Except 7. I really loved 7.) 

I’m entering this era of my life where I feel more confident. I have better friends and deeper, more meaningful relationships. I can say no to things that need to be said no to, and I have a handle on drawing healthy boundaries. On the flip side, I’m also noticing a new-to-me trend: more and more frequently my peers, more prevalently women, are starting to become more illusive about their age. 

I can’t begin to tell you how much this bums me out. 

Don’t get me wrong, I understand aspects of this choice (which I’ll get into a little later here), but even still, I just can’t get on board with it. 

I love being 31. I have never felt more sure of who I am as a person. I feel acutely aware of my traits, for better AND worse. I have so many tools to manage the various challenges that come my way. I am wittier, my sense of humour is more developed, and I am quicker to retort in a debate. I know myself, I have opinions and I’m less afraid of sharing them. I am less concerned with being considered a threat when I share my point of view - and yet I am also simultaneously more compassionate and aware of my language when I do. I have an accumulation of knowledge and experience that has served me very well, and I have more opportunities to share from those experiences than I ever have. 

I am also under the belief that this will continue. As I continue to age I will accumulate more understanding of the world, myself, and the people around me. [Insert cliche-meme about wine and women getting better with age blahblah.] 

To those of you that choose not to disclose your age, I want you to know that I have compassion for that choice, and my intention is not for you to feel judged or called out. I understand that the culture and society we live in may treat you with certain bias based on the age grouping it puts you in. (Isn’t that awesome? How we���re all put into GROUPS. Just love that. Sarcasm-font, where are you when I need you?) I understand that this choice may make you feel more accepted. Or even more confident. Whatever your reasons may be, they’re yours. And they are entirely valid. 

It doesn’t change that I can’t help but hope that less people will make this choice. By hiding our age, we’re reinforcing and agreeing with society that our age is something to be ashamed of; and that our value is tied up in our physical appearance and youth. 

Naturally this hide-your-age mentality is ever-present in the entertainment industries. It seems there is this looming deadline; this unspoken belief that an (female) artist (or actor or dancer…or or or…) can’t ‘break’ if they are 30 or older. So naturally, staying in the youth bucket lets you a bit more time to pursue your dream. And this is exactly where you lose me. 

NO! People. BE BOLD. Be something new, and different. If you don’t think the industry has room for an artist over 30 to break. Then BE the artist over 30 that breaks. Don’t be another 20-something year old. They have a butt-load of them already. (Note: No disrespect (or ‘shade’ as you call it) to you 20-somethings. I love you. Muah.) BE YOU! Be the 40-something year old that breaks. Hell, be the 50 or 60-something year old that breaks. Try to convince me that you should put an age limit on your ambitions, it won’t work. I don’t stop working at the things that fill my heart because society doesn’t approve of my age. 

Continuing to hide our age silently condones all this societal behaviour. It silently condones that we are of more value for our appearance and others’ perception than we are for our experiences and our knowledge. It reinforces that our value is wrapped around our aesthetic, and our ability to be ‘care-free’ and ‘fun’. (Because we are predominantly fun in our twenties? Is that it?) 

Here’s what. Be aesthetic, be care-free, be fun! AND be opinionated, be deep, be expressive. Have values and morals you fight for and stand by. Use your voice, your heart, and your body. 

What a world it would be if we saw the true depth in women. These amazing beings that have vast array of amazing characteristics: Beautiful, powerful, compassionate, funny, charismatic, loving, nurturing, fierce, intelligent. What poetry and symbolism it is that these same incredible beings are the source of all human life. (Shout out to the men for your (very) small contribution.)  

Celebrate your life. Celebrate your age. You have had this amazing privilege to live a human life; each year being this beautiful gift that some don’t receive. Each passing decade offers this glorious opportunity to give less f**ks than the previous; To focus on what are the truly impactful parts of life and recognize how much choice and power you have in your own life. We GET that people. We GET to age. We GET to give less f**ks. We GET to CHOOSE our life! 

No matter how young you look, or you act; or what your job is, or if you go to school; how old your kids are, or if you don’t have kids. Whatever reason you hide your age, whatever your justification; BE your age, and teach society that your age doesn’t designate what you can accomplish or act like or become. Whatever your reason may be. Put it in front you and PROVE IT WRONG. Be brilliant. Be radiant. Be you.

Okay. Maybe I’m getting a little too #inpso here, and if I’m gunna keep this up I’m going to have to change my name to Tany Rybbins. Or something. (In case you missed it, that was a really really poorly executed joke attempting to compare my previous paragraph to the work of Tony Robbins.)

 The point of the story is - ain’ no shame in your aging game. Being that it is inevitable and completely unavoidable. So go act your shoe size; regardless of what your birth certificate says.  

#aging #thirties #forties #fifties #beoldwhatever #olderisbetteranyway #agingftw #wrinklesareBA

[katatty]

Moving In

Part 6 of my Custom Neighbourhood Guide

I wasn’t sure what to call this part of the guide, it’s very much a bunch of miscellaneous tasks concerning memories, family albums, family trees, debugging… all that good stuff which ties everything together.

If you’ve been following my steps in order (which you don’t have to do, of course, some creators will prefer a less structured approach) then at this stage you have your terrain, your lots, a bunch of families in the sim bin. If you haven’t already – move them into their houses! If they can’t afford them you can use the familyFunds cheat or SimPE to give them the desired funding.

Back up your neighbourhood at this point! Now, more than ever, you are going to want to be creating regular backups so that you can easily revert to an older version if you make a mistake, or change your mind about any of the story direction.

Once all your sims are moved in you’re going to want to set up the storylines and situations you’ve planned out. There are two main ways to go about this: actually playing the game and editing memories and relationships manually in SimPE. I’ll be covering both methods here and listing the pros and cons of each. You’ll probably find yourself using a combination of the two depending on the situations you’re setting up.

Playing the Game

This is the easiest way to set your families up! Simply play the game as normal, possibly using testing cheats and modded objects to speed things along. With these you can quickly change relationships, age sims up, kill sims, etc. 

When I set up Europa, I had a backstory in mind where a schoolteacher and a priest had an affair and a kid together – so when I created the sims I made father Theo an adult rather than an elder, played out their entire affair including the birth of their son, and their subsequent breakup. I also aged the kid up, had Viola manually teach him his skills, aged Theo up… strictly this wasn’t necessary, but it was easier than messing about with SimPE and also let me take in-game screenshots along the way which I used for their storytelling albums.

Penni talked about this too, on her commentary on my last post, and I’m going to paste what she said directly as its also insightful info:

“If you play through a full day of your old, established family, they won’t have a welcome wagon when the player starts the game, which makes sense. Play time also allows you to take advantage of the “training mechanism” to create sims with habits, and allows the sims to give you Better Ideas.  Woody’s refused first kiss with Virginia and Candy’s affairs with both Mann men were situations that came up during play - the sims’ ideas, not mine. Developmental play also doubles as playtesting time for your lots. The more real memories your sims get naturally, the less time you have to spend tediously manufacturing them in SimPE. And you can get any storytelling pictures you need.”

 As she mentions, actively playing is useful so that you can get welcome wagons out of the way, and let the future player take control at the best possible moment. Both Europa and Widespot (if I’m remembering correctly) start the game on a Friday morning so that downloaders can play out a standard week-day and then have the weekend to play about a bit more. If they start their day in their bedrooms players can also quickly tell whose room is whose! (Don’t have them actually sleeping, though. When opening a neighbourhood for the first time players will usually experience a jump-reset, so it’s best to have your sims standing idle when the neighbourhood is first loaded.)

If you want your storylines to create maximum impact, consider the timing of the events. One family in Europa contained a widower, Ronnie. I wanted his wife to have recently passed away and for the memory to be fresh when the game was first loaded so that the family would cry regularly and seem affected by her death. However, I killed off Viola right at the beginning of my gameplay, and by the end of the week the family seemed somewhat over it. I tried fiddling around in SimPE to change this later but didn’t have much luck - working with the game is a lot easier than working with SimPE, I find! I had to settle for using storytelling images and putting him in aspiration failure. Learn from my mistakes.  

One other thing to keep in mind when playing is to avoid corruption at any cost. Read the Wiki guide on avoiding corruption thoroughly and regularly check your game with Hoodchecker. Keep creating those backups!

Game guide: Avoiding corruption

In theory you could set up everything this way without even using SimPE, but it might not always be practical, especially if there are multiple generations to consider, all with their own backstories... you would have to create the founding elders and play out the entire family history! Penni details a few more potential pitfalls:

“But developmental play is time-consuming, can get bewilderingly complicated, and inevitably risks the accumulation of the grit-like minor corruption and/or serious glitches with which we are all so familiar. It might also involve the spawning of NPCs you may not want, or the creation of complications that go against the Vision, requiring quitting without saving or reverting to one of your numerous backups. Only you can do the cost-benefit analysis here.”

 Editing & Adding Memories

So, this is where editing memories manually in SimPE might come in handy. It’s good for adding all the standard family memories (toddler training, growing up well/badly, etc.) I’m going to be honest here - I found this a real pain and it took a lot of trial and error to get it right! So keep using those backups. I’ll link the the tutorials and resources I used below:

Memories - Changing and removing {tutorial} 

Game guide:Adding memories in SimPE 

List of Memories 

One really cool thing about editing memories manually is that you do stuff that wouldn’t be possible with normal gameplay, like changing the colour of a memory from the usual way it appears! Katrina Fusilli dislikes her daughter-in-law, and has a negative memory of her son marrying. Stuff like Olive Specter’s memories with the Grim Reaper would also fall under this category! Take a look at the full list of possible memories and see what you come up with. 

If you give a memory an unexpected subject instance (possibly like “going steady” with Grim although I haven’t checked this) the Hoodchecker will flag it, but as far as I know it’s not harmful to the game. There’s one of these in Widespot concerning Skye Weiss’s abduction. 

Family Trees

If your families are all set up  in-game tools with CAS or during developmental play, your family tress are probably going to look fine. But if you’re adding family relationships between households manually, you may find they don’t show up correctly on family trees. I encountered this issue when trying to make all my NPCs related. 

The only way, as far as I know, to directly edit family trees is using SimPE! It’s been a while since I did this, and I could only find one tutorial on it, but editing family tress was something I found pretty easy once I knew the correct place to look. I’ll link to the tutorial I used below:

SimPE Family Ties Tutorial

Photo Albums 

More storytelling stuff! Each household has a family album composed of in-game snapshots taken with “C”. There is also a neighbourhood album, which will pop up when a neighbourhood is first loaded! You might want to include a quick summary of each household here. 

During development play you’ll want to take pictures along the way of critical moments in the story. If you’re trying to avoid actually playing your neighbourhood too much for fear of corruption - no problem! You can stage scenes, take snapshots and then quit without saving. Your gameplay won’t be saved but the pictures will!  For Europa, I staged a few family photos using poseboxes I temporarily added to the game.

You can choose which pictures to include in a family album, which order to have them appear, and there’s also an option to include captions. I like imitating the Maxis story albums and leaving the pictures caption-less so that the player can use their imagination, but Maxon used photo captions to great effect in Polgannon! 

It’s also possible to use photos taken or edited outside of the in-game camera tool, as Maxon does above and as Maxis does! I know this is done by renaming and re-sizing the files accordingly, but I haven’t ever tried this before and can’t find a full guide on it! If anyone has any insight let me know :)

Biographies and Descriptions

Along with photo captions, you have a few other places you can write! The neighbourhood description itself, the neighbourhood story, household descriptions, and of course sim biographies! It’s up to you how much detail you want to go into on these - you might prefer to keep them vague or to go into lots of detail. 

You can also choose whether you want them similarly themed, or more varied in tone. In Veronaville, for example, almost everything is about the family feud, particularly the Juliette/Romeo love affair. Even Tybalt’s biography is about Juliette’s storyline:

The Capps and Montys have been feuding for years, but that hasn't stopped the younger generation from crossing boundaries and falling in love. Will their actions lead to ruin or bring the families together? - Veronaville’s  neighbourhood description

Juliette Capp has fallen for Romeo, golden child of the rival Monty clan. Can the Capps set aside their grudge and put Juliette's happiness first? -  The Capp household description & neighbourhood story 

Juliette loves her family and wants to please them, but her feelings for Romeo are undeniable. Can she make her family proud and make herself happy as well? - Juliette’s bio

Outspoken but surly, Tybalt is proud to carry the Capp name. Will his pride and hatred of the Montys ruin his sister Juliette's chance for happiness with Romeo? - Tybalt’s bio

For a bit of contrast, let’s look at Strangetown! The neighbourhood description is a lot more vague and nonspecific, hinting at the storylines rather than outright stating them. The household descriptions detail the family story, but character bios include fun tid-bits rather than spelling out their role in the story. 

Truth-seekers move to Strangetown hoping to discover the secrets the town holds. Do aliens live among us? Do missing Sims mysteriously appear here? In this town nothing is what it seems. - Strangetown’s neighbourhood description

In search of truth and mystery, the Curious brothers got more than they were "expecting." Can Pascal, Lazlo, and Vidcund cope with their new roles as cosmic parents? - Curious family bio & neighbourhood story entry 

No matter what happens, Pascal believes there is a logical explanation for everything. In his free time, he practices home psychoanalysis and collects conspiracy theories. - Pascal’s biography

Serious and exact, Vidcund strives to fit the universe into a nice tidy package. He has an unnatural fondness for African violets. - Vidcund’s biography

Juliette’s biography is all about family and forbidden love, but Pascal's make no mention of aliens, abductions or pregnancy. Tybalt’s bio talks about his hatred for the Montys, but Vidcund’s makes no mention of his feud with Loki Beaker or his romantic history with Circe. 

I’m being a bit roundabout here, haha, all I’m really saying is there are a lot of ways you can approach descriptions like this! Maybe you have a strong theme or storyline you want to get across to players, or maybe it’s made up of lots of little storylines. 

Playtesting & Debugging

The final stage, and most likely not a fun one. Now that you’ve finished everything up, it’s time to playtest it a little. You may do this yourself, or enlist others to help! I’m not very good at spotting my own mistakes, so I created a beta of Europa and sent it to a few playtester-volunteers. 

Things you and/your testers will want to be looking out for:

Bugs

Building issues

Playability

Signs of corruption

Spelling and grammar mistakes

Anything that seems missing or wrong

Draw up a big list of all the issues you/your testers encountered and then slowly work on fixing them. If you think you’ve solved the problem, double check it is fixed in your game, and maybe even send an updated version to your tester to verify it’s now working correctly. Don’t cross off issues as “solved” when you haven’t double checked! Some of my playtesters noticed my maid NPC had alien eyes and I never properly checked if I’d fixed it properly, so this glitch is still in the final version, hahaha. Again, learn from my mistakes! 

You may also want your testers to offer impressions of the characters and stories, opinions, & suggestions. Be sure to get across to your play-testers the sort of feedback it is you want! Perhaps you just want technical feedback and aren’t interested in any sort of critique. Being open to critique will work in your favour though, and help you make your neighbourhood as good as it can be. At the same time, don’t feel obligated to change things if they feel wrong or don’t match your vision! Ultimately you’ll never be able to please everyone, but you can certainly take their opinions on board :)

Releasing for Download

Not much to say here, really! To share it, all you need to do is compress the neighbourhood folder itself into a RAR or ZIP file. When you put it up for download you’ll likely want to list compatibility info, installation instructions, known bugs, recommended or required downloads (if applicable) and some previews of neighbourhood! 

How much information you want to give is up to you. You might want to keep things vague so that there are more surprises for the player, or you might want to give them the full facts. Pictures are always helpful, and can entice more players. Here’s Europa’s download post, for reference.

That about wraps things up, I think. I’m sure I haven’t covered everything as there is no end of stuff you can do, methods you can use and ideas you can have - you might even have thought of things I never even considered! But hopefully this guide proves useful to a few people. 

Once again, let me know if there’s anything else you’d like information on - I’ll happily edit these posts and might even make new ones if there’s demand. But for now, thanks for reading :) 

#ts2 tutorial #ts2 resource #custom neighbourhood guide

[azukibeanghost]

[long post ahead - kind of meta, kind of philosophy; I might rewrite this later but feel free to reblog]

Captain America: The Winter Soldier just... resonates with me on some deeper level, like it’s addressing a hidden part of my subconscious. There’s a tension there, something that has existed under pressure for a long time, and sometimes I forget that exists but other times it feels like it’s just bottled up, boiling over, ready to explode.

.

I think that’s why I love the main suite by Henry Jackman, the “Captain America” theme: it starts out quiet, gradually building, persistent and at times violent, breaking up into the harsh Winter Soldier theme but always keeping that forwards momentum, building up that the deep, theater-rumbling tones of helicarriers crashing into the sea and ideals shattering like shifting cracks in age-old ice, but also bringing in the higher, almost wistful strains of purity and hope, lone notes rising brightly only to die out slowly – and the human voices at the end, falling with achingly numb rawness.

It’s not an uplifting song, but I wouldn’t call it “sad” either. It feels like the rage and despair that I feel simmering under the surface, all the time, but at the same time each note feels drawn-out, allowed to cry out but then be held, suspended, until it fades away under the cries of other notes amid the ever-pressing underlying percussion. Like screaming into a void, without any of the relief.

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This to me embodies what I love so much about Steve Rogers’ characterization in this film: he is a man out of his time, struggling to adjust to the world around him, and uncertain whether he even belongs there at all.

Before, he had a mission – his whole life in the first movie was dedicated to fighting bullies, becoming a soldier, winning the war. He had ideals, and confidence in his side’s rightness. He had friends.

Coming out of that, and being thrust into the modern era with its high-tech spies and moral complexity, not being able to know for certain that the cause he was fighting for was right, or even respecting of him as an individual and not a pawn – and extending into his personal life, likely not even knowing for certain whether he wanted to continue living in this strange dream-universe of America, isolated from his friends and his sense of identity – that must have caused tremendous mental trauma, and it feels like Steve is still internalizing all of it, still struggling to pick up the pieces and catch up on all of the history and pop culture he’s missed, not really having any time or putting in any effort to make real human connections.

The way he brushes off Nat’s attempts to set him up on a date, the way he can’t trust his own team or his superior, the way he watches Peggy slowly fade away and shies away from Sam’s initial attempts to befriend him – he isn’t really grounded in the world.

He doesn’t have a place.

He seems cool on the outside, but you can hear all of the suppressed rawness at having been ripped out of his world and thrust into a new one through the music of the score.

The Winter Soldier’s theme is much more visceral, with metal screaming at the violation of his bodily autonomy and sense of humanity, at the state of his mind having been wiped and reprogrammed again and again; but Steve’s theme feels numb, drawn out in agonizing quietness, like the ice he was trapped in hasn’t completely thawed.

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I can empathize with Natasha, as someone watching another person’s struggle from the sidelines, wondering how or even if I can comfort him when I don’t have any of the answers myself. She’s had to come to terms with the nature of her job years before, and understands that the world is too complex to really get attached to a side or hold yourself to a moral standard every time.

I love Sam, who understands this too but chooses to make a difference by building connections with people like Steve, to be better than the system, rather than wallowing in alienation from it.

And I feel that duality of Steve’s numbness and Bucky’s viscerality sharply; they each fight with the instinctual need to survive, to have some sort of autonomy in that moment even though neither of them is really free in their own lives.

That terror that Bucky wears on his face, in his eyes, at not being in control, at being forced to hurt others and do things that he would regret if he could remember them afterwards – the feeling that if he could just remember, there was something important there but it’s floating in and out of view, the tip of an iceberg, and if he gets too close it might gash into his industrially-constructed shell and sink him, drowning under the horror of everything he’s done – although I can’t relate to his physical experiences, that expression of terror embodies the raw mixture of rage, fear, and shame that at times threaten to tear through my conscience, if I spend too much time thinking about the world’s injustices and my role in perpetuating them. I don’t feel in control; the problems are too big.

And even though I’m not actually committing such grave crimes as assassination, sometimes it feels like They are forcing me to drive a knife through the heart of my fellow humans, forcing me to gun down the oppressed people within our society and trigger bombs all over the face of mother earth as I watch from within, trapped inside my own body, not in control.

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The world is filled with Alexander Pierces and Nick Furys. And like Steve, I really don’t know if we can trust either. There’s a law in social science that states that no matter how good-intentioned people are, all leaders or organizations will inevitably become corrupted into preserving their own power over continuing to prioritize the organization’s goals. I don’t know how true that is, but the reality is that the world today scares me, and sometimes it feels like you really can’t trust anyone.

Sometimes it’s hard to see the people around me, and their good values and kind hearts, when the institutions and stratification loom above us like skyscrapers, casting massive shadows. How do we change all of that, within our lifetimes? How can we stop these deep-rooted problems before they destroy us? Is it even possible?

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I feel like Steve’s displacement is a metaphor for my mental shift from childhood to adulthood. As a kid, I had lots of stong-held hopes and ideals about how the world worked. I was caught in that “good-old-days” mentality of Steve’s 1940s, aware of some of the ground-level problems but still confident in the idea that we can win the war, and then come home, and at least that will be a victory.

But being thrust into the reality of today, and not just the recent problems but also the realization that these problems have been happening this whole time – like Hydra, present within the very system I thought was pure – and that the people around me, already adults, are numb to these issues and have moved on in accordance with them... that was soul-crushing.

And I started emulating them, building back the walls of my little bubble, alternating between reading the news and then hiding in a shelter of books and dreams: feeling at one moment like the world is beautiful, the ocean and the sun are beautiful, nothing can crush my unbridled happiness – and then feeling the stress of deadlines and my future looming over me the next, and beginning to unpack the problems in society and realize how they work and how they will continue, reeling with the ideas of a journal article still fresh in my head as I walk into a grocery store and am hit with the sheer amount of plastic, the food waste, the low prices that I know come from exploitation but also the pressure to save money in our capitalist society.

And suddenly the thought of the ocean and the sun feels like a distraction, because the ocean is filling with plastic and chemicals and I need to do something to prevent another oil spill, but I can’t, because They’re too powerful and wealthy and I’m still trying to grapple with student loans – and why am I even worrying about this, when we’re bombing the Middle East and no one knows why because they don’t teach us about that in school, because this is America, because our country is founded on that poisonous combination of individuality and go-go-go accumulation, and the way that you win is to exploit the land and the people and anything else that gets in your way, and we all know that deep down but it’s wrapped in that propaganda that says that hey, maybe I can be one of the winners, and we’ve dominated so much of this planet that I don’t know how any alternate system can hope to overcome.

And it’s just one long, drawn-out scream underlying everything I do. Internalized, numb. Like that rawness has been put on ice, hushed, and a glossed-over version has been put on display in an air-conditioned museum: the facts are glorified and the electricity pollutes, but I’m tired of thinking that way so I just embrace the numb Americana of it all. The carpet is muffling, in a comforting sort of way, and the air is cool and smells faintly of cologne. This is not my world, but it’s the ideal that they present to me. I can see through the veil but at the same time I don’t want to... and so I don’t. Until that underlying rage comes back into the picture, and threatens to boil over, and I feel the shriek of metal all over again.

#this is a very long post so I stuck in a read-more #(that's why the paragraph formatting is a little weird - I might edit it later) #but SHIT this really needs to get out of my system #I will have to rewrite it later into a more coherent and concise essay #mcu meta #mara writes