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buckevantommy · 1 year

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Red, White & Royal Blue: comprehensive watchnotes + review

i want to start by saying we need more queer rep across all genres, especially romcoms because they're lighthearted and fun and depict (queer) relationships in a positive way and the world (especially america) is in dire need of that right now.

as someone who hasn't read the book, i've been enjoying the general hype for this movie. i'd love to know how much the movie differs from the book but for now i'm just going to judge the movie based on its own merits.

in this post i will share my thoughts for key moments (edit: actually it's a bit of a play-by-play and gets a little long, sorry!) as the narrative unfolds and progresses, and then end by highlighting the main hits and misses of the production.

runtime: 1 hr 58 mins

amazon prime content rating: mature 13+ (australia) [link]

plot score out of 6: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

production score out of 6: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

overall score out of 6: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

is it worth watching? yes. is it worth rewatching? yes.

note: please read all the way through my watchnotes; my opinion changes as the movie progresses. these are first-impressions so i'm at the whim of the narrative as it plays out and my closing thoughts differ from my opening thoughts.

youtube

here we go! screencaps + thoughts below the cut..

we start with a reporter voiceover; it's a nice easy way to set the scene and introduce us to each character, i really like this simple but effective storytelling technique.

full disclosure: i didn't love the scene in the car; it's the first time we hear alex speak and see him up close and it reads as a little too camp for the vibe that's been set so far.

i'm surprised the lighting/filters/editing is so muted; i expected more vibrance and richness of colour to the royal setting, it all feels a bit flat.

the line greeting is a fun little scene: we get a decent intro into alex's personality and learn that he and henry aren't strangers but don't like each other - a classic trope, a fun take on enemies to lovers.

we get a peek into henry's character too: his viewpoint on royal weddings being ostentatious - soon to be echoed by alex - reflects very real concerns in present-day uk, the wasteful and luxurious lifestyles of royals while their people struggle to put food on the table.

the cake scene could've been more fun but it seems to kick off a more upbeat narrative; bad reputation is the perfect song choice and the overlay of newspaper headlines and social media snapshots in the intro credits relates well to the modern era; i'm curious whether social media posts were a significant plot-driver in the book.

president uma therman?! with a southern accent?! what a treat.

zahra and alex's dynamic is fun; shahi is perfect in this role.

as alex is sent back to the uk we're now moving away from the almost stuffy introduction scenes with more lively characters and better pacing.

the frenemies setup between alex and henry is great: we start off with them being at odds and will likely see them slowly but surely get to know and like each other (probably with a few bumps along the way). it's like watching a fanfic come to life bc these tropes and characterisations are the bread and butter of fic (and honestly media with hetero pairings don't know how to use them properly). i'm excited to watch their dynamic shift and their relationship grow.

the photo op handshake scene, the push-pull of it all, henry calling alex 'sweetheart' in jest: the snark between them is so much fun. and this kind of faux affectionate namecalling is actually quite common in hetero romcoms and i enjoy seeing moments like these bridge the gap between hetero and queer pairings; i think if people paid more attention to the common ground of characterisation and character development we would see less worry about showcasing queer relationships, or at least see less plots that focus too much on being queer instead of focusing more on fun plot.

the underhanded swipes and passive aggressive smiles during the interview should've been more fun than they were; i enjoyed the scene but i'm having trouble attuning to the score music - it sounds like it should be backing a fast-paced kitchen scene, it just doesn't match the vibe of what the story and the actors are trying to do and it feels like stock music (which is what you get in made-for-tv and hallmark movies, bland and interchangeable, without identity).

the children's hospital scene starts out kinda cute then jumps into a minor tense situation quite suddenly without much breathing room; they're shoved into a closet (ha) and proceed to have a heart2heart and clear the air; alex brings a little levity to the moment with his pouting, henry's eloquence is a bit stilted in the dialogue but it's helping to highlight the difference in their education/upbringing; the vulnerability they both exhibit with each other for the first time signifies a turning point in their relationship from squabbling to allies perhaps.

their parting scene (for now) hints at what's to come: a NYE party in the usa. henry gets a little flustered as he shakes alex's hand (the second show of possible attraction after the closet scene; i know nothing of their sexuality at this stage but i'm going to guess henry knows he's gay) - it's a little hard to see, and feels letdown by lack of a closeup shot (the cinematography in this movie isn't great; we should be getting lots of close-ups to get a better sense of their mindsets and to capture the emotional nuances between them; some movies do well without close-ups but this one definitely needs more of them).

we're 20mins in and I'm going to make a guess based on pacing so far: we'll see them hookup soon, then move from friends to love, or friends with benefits to love. personally i prefer stretching out the will-they-won't-they a bit, but this is a movie and a romcom not a 100k fic or a several seasons-long tv show. i'm excited to see their dynamic shift and their relationship develop no matter which route they take, and i'm pleased with the plot so far; i can see so many of these scenes on the pages of a book and being excited to see them brought to life on the big screen, i just hope fans of the book aren't disappointed by the movie. i'm looking forward to delving into their backstories a little more.

miguel is definitely flirting with alex and even hints they have a history which makes alex a little nervous; when it comes to sexuality this makes me think alex has at least experimented with guys even if he hasn't accepted that he's queer - but i don't know what his deal is yet and i appreciate the narrative leaving things open for now bc too many movies and tv shows hit their audience over the head with the (specific) queerness of their characters and reveal it too soon so there's no room to wonder or anticipate.

it's montage time: the use of a text-chain is relevant and fun (graphics) as we follow their correspondence inc. commentary on each others lives as viewed by the public. their (flirty) banter is so cute. i'm not a fan of them voicing their texts as it's mixed with voiceovers and feels a bit busy, but it is engaging; the scene melds are a little confusing at first but i appreciate the visual storytelling meant to bridge the distance between them by putting them in the same room - it's clever and feels fresh in an otherwise stale directional effort, and it means we get more scenes of our boys together despite physically being worlds apart.

it's partytime: no matter what side characters surround them, alex and henry steal every scene, as they should since we haven't established any side pairing or even friendship yet (this could be good or bad depending on how the plot progresses, but i prefer the focus to be on our boys so no complaints here). get low being the song of alex's childhood is hilarious especially as henry points out the explicit lyrics; the visual slow-mo of the crowd getting low leaving henry and alex to stare at each other is a great direction and editing choice! it's little moments like these peppered throughout a good romcom that make it memorable and worthwhile because it's not just going through the motions it's inviting you to enjoy every scene, and i'm so happy to see that in a mlm love story.

here comes the first kiss: i wasn't expecting it in this moment, i thought henry was going to storm off but this works too - unfortunately both covered angles of the kiss are obscured and once again i'm grabbing a megaphone to yell 'we need a closeup!' at the director. it's pretty disappointing to not get a better view and see their facial journeys but at least i know we'll be getting many more kisses - which is maybe why this one wasn't given Thee Big Kiss screen moment, i just hope the camera catches the next ones better.

30mins in and we're over with act 1: their dynamic has shifted.

with henry giving alex radio silence after their impromptu kiss at nye, alex confides in his friend nora - it's the first time we've seen them together in a conversation since the limo at the start and the first time we see them actually talk at length and get a sense of their dynamic and nora's personality; i like her, i want to see more of her and more of their friendship. i'd like to see more from the various supporting characters and i trust the plot can do that without taking focus off our boys, the question is: will it?

we also get more explicit talk, specifically reference to the dom/sub undertones of their kiss, and nora saying alex wants henry to 'dick him down' - outstanding; the same level of sexual chatter is seen often with hetero pairings but with queer pairings you seem to get either g-rated fluff or x-rated drama (that usually ends with them dying or breaking up). i wasn't expecting this kind of language and i'm so pleasantly surprised that they went there.

we get more info on alex's sexuality: he's cool with being 'low-level into guys' but is confounded by his apparent attraction to henry, and when nora enquires about how many male partners he's had the scene is conveniently interrupted - classic - but we get our answer: he's been with 2 guys including miguel. alex knows he's queer but is still hesitant about being with more guys and specifically what to do about henry.

things start happening: another kiss at a fancy party, another member of their inner circle finding out, sexual banter, their first time together (bj) - a cut-scene, as is appropriate and expected. alex tells henry he's bisexual - it seems like this is the first time he's saying it out loud, perhaps even settling on the term in the moment, and while it might be nice to get a little more insight i'm glad they don't dwell on it - so many queer love stories fixate on the label thing and provide you with a sort of queer identity origin story, and while that's fine for a coming-of-age flik or something with less plot or more angst it's simply not necessary for every queer love story; every flavour of queer rep is yummy but it's a good thing to see media moving away from characters having to explain themselves instead of just being.

henry reciprocates by saying he's gay. it's nicely done, poignant but not stealing focus from the various other plot pieces at play; it's rare to see a coming out that doesn't get heavy so kudos to the writers and the boys here.

we get another insight into their private lives: alex wears the key to his austin home around his neck - texas ie. the state up for grabs in the president's reelection, which may recieve help from alex's proposal (this has been a recurring mention and i look forward to seeing what unfolds); henry has never owned a key which is so telling of a controlled life where he doesn't really own anything.

the bittersweet note of henry regrettably marking their dalliance as 'casual'; you can see they both want more but alex was not expecting nora's words of the closeted prince to thwart this thing between them; they both agree to friends with benefits but ofc they're falling for each other. the little addition of henry nervously fiddling with his ring is a nice character detail.

i like that whenever they make plans to see each other again the plot doesn't dither with B-plots - i don't think we've had a single scene where one or both of them weren't present and they've always been centre-stage. plans for another date are followed immediately by that date: the scene switches between a fast-paced polo match and a rendezvous in an equipment shed. we're getting as many stolen moments - sexy or sweet - as the runtime can fit and again that's so remeniscent of fanfic.

paris: 'prince henry belongs to britain. henry fox has to belong to himself or else he'll vanish' this tugs at my heartstrings and the light angst of it paired with denying alex the chance to comfort him in semi-public is the kind of understated writing that makes an angsty emotional impact without being loud about it.

there hasn't been many good cinematography shots but the europe settings are giving the directors (or b-roll archives?) something pretty to insert with parisian cafes and palace gardens.

henry @ alex: don't fall in love with me, we can't be together but we can have fun. also henry @ alex: 'we should make love tonight, here in paris'. the discussion of who will be doing what is handled with nuance instead of stuffed dialogue; you can do it either way depending on the story but they found the best way to touch on the topic without overdoing it. learning alex has never fully been with a guy is another moment of vulnerability and it should be said they both play these moments well, but even in intimate moments like this we see them being themselves in some measure of levity, reminding each other that they were friends first and remain friends still, that they can be themselves, that there's care and familiarity between them, they're safe. the direction improves during this sequence with close-ups of bare skin - but that intimacy is undercut by switching to mid-shots; the softness of the scene is handled well enough but the lingering mid-shots would be better as short close-ups.

one visual reminds me of that Kill Your Darlings sex scene:

the sex scene is oddly slow, like the boys are moving in slow-motion, and the movements are a little awkward - an easy fix for this would've been to reduce the lighting in the room; it's very bright so we lose those intimate shadows and the mystery that goes with them.

the golden lit opulence is something that's been done before with gay sex scenes, notably Interview With The Vampire (2022) and True Blood. below you can see the similarities in composition and setting, and how rwrb could've used more shadow and less light for contrast to help heighten the intimacy (they could've still kept it bright if they took inspiration from the Cruel Intentions sex scene):

as they lay together in the afterglow the wide camera angle catches two condom wrappers on the floor by the bed - a small but mighty detail in both depicting safe sex and stating in no uncertain terms that these two guys had penetrative intercourse.

it's inferred that henry doesn't want to be a royal, doesn't want to live in the spotlight. on the flipside alex loves the opportunity to help people and to be a role model for people like him to look up to.

unfortunately there's a lot of dead air in their d+m pillowtalk scene and it's not the first time this has happened; it comes down to 1 of 4 things: direction, editing, music, acting. the boys play the scene well but their emotion and vulnerability is lost in the wide angle shots - moments like this highlight how poor the direction is, but even bad direction can be helped along by editing and music, but in this scene (and many more) that's simply not what happened; the easiest post-production fix would be to add a musical score to drown out the too-long silence that just reads as awkward; adding some rainsounds and distant thunder would've also worked. but even without a soundtrack this scene could've been improved during filming: it's begging for close-ups and better contrast lighting (everything is still too bright, it looks overly lit like a soundstage not a hotel room).

we end on a hopeful but very dark scene of alex flying home: shots like this need color or light; if i saw this scene out of context i wouldn't guess it was from a happy moment in a romcom (alex's black-gray wardrobe also does nothing to highlight the hope and love he's feeling).

we're just about at the 1hr mark: i want to take a moment to highlight some important plot points about the boys' separate storylines which i'm loving not just for the depth it adds to their characters but for the important subject matter in the present-day: alex's family history, background and ethnicity and what it means both to him and to his country, as well as his passion for wanting to be more involved in politics in order to help people is uplifting. we haven't seen henry's passion explained just yet but the childrens hospital visits and condemning exorbitant royal spending show that he has a heart, conscience and sense.

we're finally getting some politico plot: president uma, the sneaky flirty journalist miguel, alex's plan to help turn texan voters - yes this is a romcom but i've been hoping they would delve into political matters on both sides of the pond and now here we are; it doesn't come out of nowhere, these narrative threads have been woven in from the start, but it's taken an hour for us to get a dedicted scene (the partial scenes with miguel were overshadowed by his flirting and imho skeevy vibes so i'm glad we're getting other characters in on this plotline).

rather than draw out the drama of mother vs son the plot chooses to skip over the filler and go right to a resolution via mom believing in her son; alex is off to texas to implement his campaign strategy. adventures surely await.

1hr mark: we're halfway done and onto act 2 (3? we're in a new act).

points for the cinematography: the landscape shots are striking and gorgeous and they ground the visuals in a way that the fake snow (nye party), greenscreen DC skyline (white house balcony), and greenscreen paris skyline (through a hotel window) simply didn't. real locations, even pretty b-roll, have been lacking. the campaign office feels real not staged - it may seem like a small thing but it's actually crucial to aid believability, which is also helped along by a backing score and voiceovers from the boys reading their emails to each other (it's almost too busy but they forgo the graphic overlays so it works).

montage time: campaign office and real locations backed by a somewhat rousing musical score and email voiceovers - which seem to overlap towards the end but something is off with the sound layers because one is almost too soft to hear while the other one stays loud. we get a bunch more locations and scenes outside with real sky and sunshine which helps the believability; all the scenes in the white house feel fake so real locations are a win at every turn.

i don't like miguel. his first interaction with alex was kinda fun and intriguing but the more scenes he's in the more i wish screentime was being made for other characters; i don't know if it's the character or the actor or both but i'm just not digging his vibe. if he turns out to be a dbag then it works, but if the plot intends to turn him into a friend i hope his vibe is tweaked moving forward.

alex storms off and henry is suddenly there - the movie has so many shots that linger too long and feature dead air, but it also has a lot of these scenes that aren't given room to breathe; alex should've run into henry in an outer room instead of a prince walking into a crowded bar and claiming 'skullduggery' - it's poor planning and poor direction, but if it was like this in the book it definitely should've been altered slightly for believability, even if only to move them away from the main entrance and many prying eyes. alex basically whisper-shouts that he needs to get henry in his room 'right now' and whether it's sexually loaded or meant to conceal him it fails to be covert on both accounts.

another cut-off sex scene and more post-coital chatting; alex asks henry a bunch of personal things and we learn henry isn't allowed to vote - which relates to alex's campaigning and the fact he (somehow) got 1million voters to register (in an undetermined timeframe). their not-so-casual affair has reached the point of more people finding out: miguel obviously suspects, and now zahra finds herself in the know. we get a butt! and a frantic search by zahra for the 'rando girl'; fun subtext when she finds henry in the closet. there's mention of a percy and i have no idea who that is, and henry confesses he told his sister about them which gets an 'aww' from alex - which is at odds with the whole 'just casual' thing they agreed on earlier; ofc they're both developing feelings but to say them out loud (like in the emails as well) undercuts that nice little angsty moment of when the whole lust-not-love agreement was made after their first time together; did it play out this way in the book? bc right now their relationship reads like a secret romance instead of a secret fling which is fine but it contradicts what they said; pick a relationship and stick with it instead of saying one thing and doing the opposite.

oof, okay: while i love zahra's stresshead freakout i take issue with comments about who tops and bottoms - it's fine to discuss between the boys and anyone else who knows the specifics (maybe nora?) but to have a character with no proof state that she knows (by belittling alex, mind you) is not cool, not cool zahra. alex is quick to say he won't stop seeing henry and again it's playing like a romance not a fling - the least they could do here is focus on henry's reaction but we're not given the chance as the camera follows zahra as she leaves. kudos for zahra giving us 'little lord fuckleroy' and her witty rant but the scene misses several opportunities for close-ups once again.

the next scene takes place in the oval office: it feels like a scene or two are missing; alex comes out to his mom and ellen (literally just realised her name was ellen thanks to the subtitles; i thought the ellen on the posters in texas were for her representative since there were no visuals of her. she's not the only supporting character whose name i don't know) supporting alex. the couch cuddle is an awkward angle and looks more like a cougar cradling her boytoy but points for the president mentioning various queer identities as well as specific safe gay sex practice - has this ever been done? this feels groundbreaking.

it's getaway time: alex's dad, nora, henry, and henry's friend (who we met at nye and whose name i can't rememeber) make up the group. the roadtrip visuals are sad - the wideshot of the desert is drab and looks like greenscreen, there's no sunshine and no fun roadtrip vibes, then we get a road-level driving view of a dusty road with no car in sight (stock footage?) - it's mismatched especially with the greenery surrounding the modern minimalist house they arrive at. alex's email voiceovers are starting to annoy me: his tone is that of a highschool drama student or disney channel energy - it sounds fake. oh, percy is henry's friend from nye.

this is the first i'm hearing of ellen having published a book: fiction or non-fiction? autobiography? this is relevent since henry voiced wanting to be a writer so they may find some common ground when they get to know each other.

another montage: their first day inc. henry showing off his ball skills to alex's dad and them all playing volleyball - it's a pity the weather is drab because sunshine would help lift these scenes particularly bc the production crews haven't bothered adding any filters. we were robbed of alex talking henry through the family photos on display as he leans down to look and the scene cuts away - i wish we were give more of these moments. the club pop isn't what i would've chosen for the montage sequence; there's a difference between eclectic and giving a movie its own musical identity - rwrb doesn't have one, it's a bit of a mess. it is nice to see the boys sharing a hammock in their shorts with hairy legs on display - body hair is not common in young queer media.

the bar sequence has a few odd moments: their entrance vibes make them all look like vamps on the prowl and henry is the new baby vamp; alex's comment about henry being excited for karaoke has no reference point in the narrative so far - all we know is he named his dog after david bowie and now he proceeds to sing queen - and he can sing! and does alex catch a faux kiss from henry on stage? the audio fade as alex gets all mooney-eyed could do with more switches to henry, maybe with their eyes locking - there's just so many scenes that beg for better direction and editing. we get a bit of decent set dressing, blocking, lighting and symbolism - like the shot of henry singing onstage between an american flag and bull skull in blue [re:gay] lighting with shirt to match; bisexual lighting could also be argued with the pink-purple hue or it could be ascribed to love.

i like alex and his father's dynamic, i wish we'd seen more of them together before now. 'patron saint of gender-neutral bathrooms in austin' is another win for positive queer rep especially in america's political climate right now. i'm confused over his father's advice relating to his own relationship: alex hasn't told him about henry or his bisexuality yet(?) so the purpose of 'your mom and i were a stupid idea too' is unclear.

the shots of the wooden platform on the lake: reminds me of the queer coming of age movie jongens. i wonder if it's a nod:

the shot of henry escaping alex's love confession and finding solace in the lakewater is another rare, well done cinematography moment.

alex truly is smitten and it's adorable. henry is more reserved in his affections. we've seen a lot of alex's life and family and heard about his backstory and ambitions, meanwhile henry's side is all but unexplored: 'i can take you around to all the places i grew up and you can get to understand my life a little more' - two points here: 1) i think we've seen enough of alex's life and journey; i hope the narrative shifts to the uk for a bit so we can see henry's side of things but i get the feeling we're going to be focused on alex's journey and i'm worried bc atm the narrative feels unbalanced. 2) it's painfully clear that alex sees them as a couple and i think that's about to blow up in his face bc henry isn't ready for that (as he already stated).

henry cuts alex's love confession short and we finally get a moving backing score (even though it was a little late in the scene). i do love how the story has progressed: henry instigated things at nye, then told alex not to fall in love with him, and now alex is in love with henry and thinking henry loves him too. the next few scene progressions are odd bc we get henry sad alone in bed wallowing presumably about not being able to have a public relationship, then he's sneaking off with his bags in the night - alex's shirtless state suggests they were together one last time but that feels a little underhanded for alex's sake.

we're about 2/3 of the way through at 117mins: alex's personal story had a nice arc to it and now with the boys' separation we move onto henry's personal arc which will likely carry us through to the end of the movie or at least keep focus for a decent while.

we follow henry on the plane and to his home: he's trying to swallow down his pain and move on but still obviously pining for alex. i'm keen to see his side of things and his relationship with his family and royal duties. the soft bittersweet alt-folk lovesong playing in the background is a good choice for mood and lyrics and the plane is better lit than the earlier shot of alex - we even get a pretty sunset through the window; the two scenes stand in opposite: alex was in love but in the dark, and here henry is bathed in the light of riches and a setting sun and is miserable - if that was intentional then kudos bc i love visual meta, but it doesn't immediately read that way and alex's scene still deserves more lighting and colour.

more real locations and natural light: english gardens and sunshine as henry strolls and confides in his sister. alex is fun, but he's a very different vibe to henry and i prefer henry's emotional expression more. i'm glad we're finally getting henry's side, starting with not wanting to break alex's heart, not wanting the king to find out, and resenting the presence of royalty and doubting their need in the 21st century - again relating well to the times, and bringing things back to how alex has inspired him: henry doesn't believe the work royals do has meaningful impact on peoples' lives, whereas alex is out there making a real difference.

the bittersweet lovesong from before resumes over footage of henry playing the piano: missed opportunity to have henry's playing set the melancholy tone over the montage of royal meetings and tea while reading an online article about alex's bright future in politics.

we see nora comforting alex but not percy comforting henry despite mention of him; we didn't even get anything from percy during the getaway and i'm annoyed bc he's almost a non-character, a wasted supporting role.

alex flies to henry: instead of being a grand romantic gesture it's undercut by angst which is a nice change of mood - the storm outside and a rain-drenched alex are perfect.

the palace setting is opulent and looks real even if it isn't, so well done on the location scouts or set designers. the lighting is also really good here. the angsty emotional confrontation is well-scripted but again we lose so much visual impact as the camera just loiters on alex in a mid-shot instead of giving us close-ups of his face and switching over to henry's reception and back to alex. 'my life is the crown and yours is politics and i will not trade one prison for another' - this sounds like a book quote, i love it; we learn that not only does he not want to be a royal but he doesn't want to be with alex bc of the spotlight that he lives in. henry tells alex he doesn't know the real him - fitting for a narrative that has heavily favoured alex's story up til now, the audience doesn't really know henry either; we've seen glimpses but nothing substantial. this scene is a confession, confrontation, venting, resigned acceptance, and fight for love - once again a segment lifted right out of fanfic; it's a little cringey but it's heartfelt, delivered well, and for once the setting feels real - the colors are rich, the lighting contrast is spot-on, and there's a gentle hopeful musical score in the background. this is the sort of love confession scene usually reserved for near the end of movies but we have over 30mins left - i hope they fill that time with alex in henry's world.

sometimes a closeted prince sneaks off to a museum in the dead of night to take in all the naked male statues - am i the only one seeing this and trying not to laugh? it's supposed to be sombre and beautiful but they put two queer characters circling naked male statues and i can only take so much! also: does henry just have a key to the museum? they slowdance to a modern version of can't help falling in love with you - it should be melancholy and romantic but again the lighting fails the narrative, it's too well lit and lacks contrast. henry asks for patience and makes a promise to be brave - this feels like a goodbye (for now).

on the tarmac there's a trading of personal affects: we don't know what henry's ring means (maybe we'll learn?) but it's basically a promise ring in this moment and we've seen it be something of a comfort to his nerves, and we know alex's key is his home - which is where the heart is.

1hr 30mins: we're onto the final act.

the fade to black after the boys part ways is a very odd choice considering it doesn't happen at any other point in the movie; fades are usually reserved for final scenes so it's a weird fit as we have almost 30mins left.

henry wakes to a scandal: their emails have been hacked and shared with the media, photos of their museum haunt have leaked too but are not shown. who is to blame? a montage of news segments referencing their relationship inc. an interview with miguel which insinuates his involvement - confirming suspicions of him being a dbag.

alex's press conference becomes voiceover to henry facing the music while a gentle piano music track plays - scenes like this out of context could fool viewers into thinking the production quality is better than it is. his speech is overlain with unseen moments of their romance and ends on a hopeful note despite the interspersed scenes of henry looking miserable; this is noteworthy bc while alex is allowed to speak his truth at a press conference henry is shown with people at a table speaking for him and his brother berating him, he has no chance to speak for himself, no freedom.

zahra is supportive but still a comically semi-dramatic stresshead; she's a gem that we haven't seen enough of - and is apparently in a sexual relationship with henry's not-butler; she helps put alex in contact with henry calling them 'lovesick homosexuals' (affectionate). at last we get henry playing the piano and it seems to match the score recently played, but i have a new theory of why his music wasn't used as the backing track: bc not doing so plays into his story of living a controlled life not being allowed any expression of self beit in word or song. alex calls henry 'baby' for the first time on the phone and i wish we'd gotten it sooner.

alex flies to henry to comfort him, support him: the stairwell hug is a little awkward but sweet and one of few good direction choices. henry plays piano for alex, expressing himself freely in his own home - they even play a few notes together of my country tis of thee, expressing their love freely.

king stephen fry as i live and breathe! they cast an iconic, out and proud gay man to play the king and he plays the role so well. in fact this entire scene is so well done not just in how the plot plays out but in the direction: the room is opulent and real and suits wide-shots but we also get close-ups, and switches between the various characters in ways we haven't seen for the majority of the movie; perhaps such a turnaround is a visual choice: to see people individually and up close as henry is freed - but it's a flimsy excuse for the otherwise poor direction we've been subject to.

henry watches as alex fiddles nervously with henry's ring he now wears; it's a reminder of their shared promise and how close they are to being together no matter what happens.

crowds gather in the streets: queer identities have gained a lot of ground on equality in the past few decades but they still experience backlash and hate both in the uk and america. to see thousands of people turn out in support of their queer prince, rainbow flags flying, as the king himself tries to bumble through the indefensible claim that only traditional values will be welcome by the people.. what a sight to behold. 'starting today the world will know me for who i am, not who you want me to be'.

back to usa: texas is the turning state that ends up winning ellen reelection. in her victory speech she talks of representing everyone from 'auto workers to transgender students', another win for queer rep. the entire election sequence is directed well and edited well - with inserts of news footage and ellen's voiceover with nothing getting muddied; production is stepping up their game for the home stretch.

alex and henry visit alex's austin home using the key henry now wears; the camera shot of the street is striking and more proof that the crew can give us decent visuals when they try. 'we won' is the shared sentiment as they enter the house - tbh i'm not clear on why: do they plan to live there? is it a matter of sharing more of alex's roots, or the simple symbolism of home is where the heart is? the key ties it together but the meaning is lost, it feels like an odd place to end. the shooting star above the house is cliche but perhaps it has a simple meaning too: wishes do come true.

the end!

that's it for my watchnotes. below i'm going to talk a bit about plot and production highlights and drawbacks.

the trailer: i didn't watch the trailer before i watched the movie and i think doing so would've heightnened my expectations. it's really well made, sets the mood for a heartfelt romcom, and the song choice of lil nas x is perfect and the whole thing feels like a high quality fanvid - which honestly is what i want in queer trailers because it means the focus and tone is where we want it. but it does spoil a few key moments that i wish were omitted, so i'm glad they weren't ruined for me.

overall plot impressions: i've mentioned a few times that rwrb plays like a fanfic and i stand by that. i think most viewers will see the plot progression and know it's a book adaptation - it has a flow and a busyness that almost doesn't work but they handled the pacing really well. i enjoyed the story! the romance and cute humour balanced well and all the plot points were resolved. i particularly liked that the book didn't make alex a bitter politico baby but instead excited to use his platform to help people - and we see that wish reflected in henry's bitterness and misery over his royal standing bc he also wants to help people. their characterisations and relationship was engaging enough to want to know what happens next, and production failings aside, taking a step back from my messy scene-by scene commentary i think it's a story worth watching. it's not perfect (again, production issues) but it's worthwhile.

things i would change: i mention in my watchnotes that i like the focus being on the boys and not giving us filler scenes with other characters, but as the story progresses it feels like it's missing the inclusion of other characters to help round out the narrative; scenes like talking with friends and family - and not just about their relationship or sexuality but about their lives - i want to see more of the side characters bc they have potential for supportive and tangential plot and could've enriched the story a little more.

we get barely a taste of other interpersonal relationships with alex helping with the presidential campaign, but next to nothing on henry's side; i was expecting a conversation with someone about the royals' role in modern society instead of just venting to his sister - it feels like a missed opportunity. i also would've liked to see more of henry's life. i'm glad the narrative shifted to give us his side towards the end but i would've liked to see more of his journey.

there's so many elements of henry's story we could've known more about: the hospital visit was so sweet and he usually goes without cameras so it's a personal investment - might he be interested in doing more nonprofit work? we know he can sing, play piano, loves Byron, and wants to be a writer - he's a creative boy, explore that! and what about his relationship with his mother, and when his father was alive? the plot could've switched between the boys during their correspondance showing henry's royal duties and mindset and given more insight into his character instead of focusing solely on alex. alex's story is nicely fleshed out but henry remains something of a mystery and it leaves the story feeling lopsided - time may be the issue so again, perhaps a mini series would've been better, but if it was a choice to keep henry's side unexplored compared to alex's i get it but i wanted more of him.

i mentioned my confusion over alex's key and henry's ring. i would've liked them to be touched on a little more: is henry's ring of royal lineage significance or from his father? I think his brother was wearing the same one on his finger. on that note, i would've liked to learn more about henry's father: he was an actor, so why not tell us something about his films, have henry or alex rewatching one of his films together over the phone or at least show us a family photo.

for a minute i wished we'd gotten more international relations but that doesn't really suit for adolescent princes; if it was a king and a president or heir prince and president/senator it would've called for that. the political stuff we got was a nice enough amount and I'm glad it was part of the plot.

more overlay graphics and social media inserts would've been fun - relatable for the modern era. i'm guessing they weren't prevalent in the book otherwise we might have gotten more, or it could've been a budget thing. they weren't necessary for the plot but the styling reminded you this movie is a romcom.

the main characters: alex and henry are likeable in their respective senses, but it's interesting to note that while alex occupies the majority of screentime and plot, henry [nicholas] is the one who steals every scene; he's mysterious [re:reserved] and vulnerable leaving the viewer wanting to know more about him. alex is fun and charming and vibrant and he brings henry to life, while henry shines in the more tender intimate moments. the development of their relationship works for pacing and there's enough time spent together that the viewer can witness them falling in love.

from a technical standpoint: the movie is lacking. my main issue is with the direction: the lack of close-up shots makes it seem like they didn't have the equipment - but this is fucking amazon! they can afford it! so either they didn't want to spend the money on a queer romcom - which is insane considering the times we live in and how queer rep in media is gaining traction and speed - or the director was so unskilled that they didn't think to utilise close-ups. sadly, the direction is lazy and uninspired for much of the movie with far too many mid-shots when the scenes call for close-ups; it also needs more switching between characters to capture reactions rather than just focus on one person while they monolgue (this could also be a script issue).

note: when i was skimming through a second time for screencaps i didn't have any issue with the direction; from faraway or if you're not really paying attention the direction and soundtrack are fine. it's when you're hanging on every scene that you feel letdown by the repeated missteps.

the script was a little clunky. there's a lot of monolgues - fine for a book but they come off a little cliche on-screen and often feel like a stage production. but these instances were made worse by the poor direction and editing teams. however the boys' banter and conversations are always good.

the overlay of graphics, the scene meldings where they're in the same room, and inset scene segments, are all visually appealing - but aren't consistent throughout the movie. i was expecting more social media and correspondance visuals but they get replaced by voiceovers and montages which don't have as much impact (although the execution of this style is done well).

the lighting needs work: most of the night scenes feel overlit and fake, lacking shadows for intimacy and just feel all around uncaring and drab. i swear some scenes look like they didn't see the editing room - lots of dead air, which can also be attributed to a directing issue ie. not getting enough shots. high budget romcoms are brighter and have more contrast, use better lighting and filters - and sometimes are too bright and feel too fake - but the overlighting and lack of richness in rwrb leaves it feeling drab; the plot and characters are begging for more colour, more contrast! giving the story what it needs wouldn't have adversely altered the vibe, it would have elevated it to what it deserved to be.

there was a problem with the soundtrack: the score was messy when present, but absent more than present. sometimes the score was too fast or too slow and had no discernible vibe - honestly it sounds like stock music, and while i do understand that romcoms don't need a signature sound they do deserve their musical needs met. there was a lack of musical score in many scenes which resulted in dead air between dialogue; it feels like the music track is missing, and without that atmospheric element the characters are left hanging and the vibe is awkward and unfinished. and the chosen licensed songs are fine on their own but when you cobble them together you get a lack of cohesion, no unified vibe or atmospheres that compliment one another, it feels mismatched rather than eclectic.

when these seemingly small issues pile up and are recurring it affects the quality of the movie and can lower the overall reception; people can tell that it wasn't given the care or money it deserved and then they start to ask why - and you better hope you have a good answer.

the runtime is considerably long: 2hrs is long for a romcom. it makes sense given that it's a streamer debut and not in theatres, and they make good use of the time in progressing the plot and letting love bloom, but while the focus on the boys and their relationship is what audiences are tuning in for there could've been more room for the supporting characters. you don't need side characters to make a good romcom but when the production quality is lacking like it is for rwrb side characters can help add dimension and believability - it's the actors that make up for the failings of production.

i think they could've done a 3-part mini series instead: flesh out their personal arcs more - especially henry - and give the side characters more screentime - nora, percy, henry's sister, zahra, the not-butler, alex's parents; the plot calls for more of them but they're not given the chance which results in the boys feeling somewhat isolated no matter how supportive their family and friends are.

content rating: american content ratings are strange because it skips from pg-13 to 17yo with a guardian? but here in australia rwrb is rated m13+ on the amazon prime app. teens and young adults are the target audience and going by the language used and lack of nudity it makes sense it wasn't given a more mature rating because the content doesn't call for it. basically there's nothing to be censored - which is good in a way, bc it proves you can depict a queer romance with sex without it coming off like a porno. hopefully rwrb will motivate more queer productions and invite audiences to read the book and to seek out more queer fiction.

as for the actors: it's nice to see some fresh faces - i didn't recognise anyone except uma and fry. the diverse casting is also a win with most of the side characters being poc, and a biracial poc in the queer main pairing is a double win.

alex aka. taylor, is the charmer, the enigmatic one of the pair and real easy on the eyes. at times it felt like he was falling back on his good looks, and other times his line delivery was almost farcical and reads as over the top or awkward - but this is something that should've been mitigated by better directing, better editing; it takes a village, as they say. but taylor also gives more than he gets from everyone around him - with the exceptions of henry and nora - which is a shame. i can't help but think taylor would've been better suited to a brighter more energetic vibe for rwrb - the production around him falls flat including most of the side characters (with a few exceptions) who did nothing to brighten the atmosphere let alone elevate it to a standard that shows how much love and care should've gone into creating rwrb.

henry aka. nicholas, may play the more reserved character but he doesn't shy away from taking us on an emotional journey. he has greater emotional range and knows how to use his face and body to convey those emotions whether they be small and private or an outburst of passion. imho nicholas was the shining star of this movie despite getting less screentime; he brought his a-game to almost every scene and i'm sad this was a romcom not a dramedy or drama bc from what he shows us he would do wonders in genres with more angst.

other characters: hilson was great - we didn't get anywhere near enough of her and her friendship with alex; i would've loved to see her own character fleshed out a little if rwrb were a mini series, and i was actually hoping for a friendship or fling/romance between her and henry's sister. shahi's character was a well-placed addition and she tried so hard to nail the comedic timing and tone despite letdowns from the director - and again, we didn't get enough of her. uma was perfect casting in a power postion but she was a little stiff in the motherly role, namely the physical aspects - maybe she's like that in the book but for on-screen it was a little awkward. as for the other side characters we barely saw - percy, shauun, alex's bodyguard and henry's redheaded sister whose roles were so minimal i don't even remember their name - they all held potential for relationships with our boys and their own storylines and are another vote in favor of rwrb being better suited to a mini series.

overall closing thoughts: this one is a winner. is it a masterpiece? no. the biggest letdown is the production quality, but the story and leading men perservere well enough and deliver a decent, fun queer romcom. it plays out like a book in the sense that the narrative is layered and the plot is full, which makes it different to the average romcom which barely has plot let alone good plot. rwrb might not seem like groundbreaking content but a feature-length queer-focused romcom is, even in 2023 - you'd think we'd have more by now but maybe this is the start, maybe rwrb will prove to producers and streamers that the viewership is here and hungry for more. i know there are always issues with adapting books for the screen but with so many quality queer books out there we might be in for an era of queer reads making it onto the big screen and i for one am here for that, across all genres.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #spoilers #watchnotes #review #queer characters #queer cinema #lgbtqia #mlm #gay characters #bisexual male characters #queer reads #long post

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ncisfranchise-source · 11 months

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Acamera sweeps under Sydney Harbour Bridge, to the right is the Opera House and then we’re at Fleet Base East in Woolloomooloo. It could be an ad for Tourism Australia, except soon there’s a dead US sailor floating in the water. It’s not so much, “Where bloody hell are we?” more “What the bloody hell is going on?”

Now, it’s here. And for that, you can thank AUKUS, the contentious nuclear submarine deal between Australia, the US and the UK, which provides a great excuse for getting NCIS agents on Australian soil.

“That’s what the show is piggybacking off,” says Todd Lasance, who plays Australian Federal Police agent Sergeant Jim “JD” Dempsey who is called in to investigate the sailor’s death. The catch? Because the sailor was a US citizen, NCIS also has jurisdiction over the investigation.

Mackey (Swann) and JD (Lasance) face off over who gets to investigate the death of a US sailor in NCIS: Sydney.

Enter Olivia Swann, who plays NCIS Special Agent Michelle Mackey. “She’s a very straightforward woman, she’s here to get a job done,” says Swann. “She’s here to do things her own way, she follows her own rules. So having to join forces with these larrikin, laid-back Aussies is not her ideal way of working.”

It’s a big swing and one I have been so curious about since the show was announced last year. Back then, it seemed ludicrous – how could NCIS even operate here? Would every dead body have a major tourism landmark in the background? How many times can they visit Bondi? Would they throw another shrimp on the barbie?

NCIS: Sydney is a throwback to the kind of police dramas we used to do so well, such as Rush, starring Jolene Anderson, Rodger Corser and Callan Mulvey.

But, you know what? It works, it really does. It’s zippy and light on its feet, with a distinctive Australian twang. It’s a throwback to the type of police action dramas we used to do – Police Rescue, Water Rats and Rush. Yes, it’s still slightly absurd that the AFP would team up with the NCIS crew and that AUKUS would be the catalyst, but it’s the back end of a rank 2023, so let’s go with it.

“With NCIS, the audience comes for the crime, but stays for the characters and chemistry,” says Lasance. “And that is very true for our series. It centres around interesting and well-rounded and nuanced characters, and when they come together, it’s just exciting stuff. They’re flawed people, but also so lovable.”

‘I wonder why they haven’t done this?’

Part of the enduring popularity of NCIS is that it’s the opposite of every cult, word-of-mouth, zeitgeisty show ever made. It’s easygoing, almost daggy TV. Everyone knows how it works – mysterious death in the first five minutes, some office banter, investigation of said death, a scene or two in the autopsy room or forensic lab, a red herring, then a chase, suspect is caught, more banter and cue credits. And repeat.

“My very first reaction was: I wonder why they haven’t done this already?” says O’Neill, who created the ABC series Les Norton.

So he watched a lot of NCIS – the Washington original, plus the Los Angeles, New Orleans and Hawaii spin-offs – and realised that far from creating a carbon copy of the “mothership”, each spin-off worked because it had its own identity.

“They expanded the universe, but they never made the same show twice,” says O’Neill. “So the original show, which is now in its 20th year, is a really unique show. It has its own swagger, its own tempo, its own tonality. But when they came to make NCIS: LA, it wasn’t the same show. They really took a step to the side and a couple of steps in a different direction to make sure that it stood out as a distinctive version of a show that shares a lot of DNA, but isn’t the same.”

And while these building blocks may seem creatively restrictive, O’Neill found them liberating.

“There is an expectation from the audience that this is going to be a quirky family, where you have these archetypes that exist within it,” says O’Neill. “Fortunately, we have those archetypes in Australia, and they’re not really the same as the ones that America has.

The other ingredient O’Neill wanted was humour. Whereas the US versions are cheesy, at best – Mark Harmon couldn’t crack a smile if he tried – NCIS: Sydney burrows into the culture clash between the US and Australia. The slang for yanks, “septic”, has to be explained, as does our coffee. There’s drag queens at Bondi and mustachioed hipsters in Marrickville, while a chase through a narrow terrace house is one you won’t find in Los Angeles.

“What I think makes this show such a behemoth – someone was telling me they reckon there’s four and a quarter trillion minutes of this show that has been viewed around the world since its inception – is that at the core of its success is the fact it’s fun. There’s a wink to it, there’s a twinkle in its eye,” says O’Neill.

‘Just be still’

One of the other main building blocks of NCIS is that each episode opens with a death – the sillier the better (one recent one had hairy body chunks falling from the sky onto a child’s birthday party). But what I want to know is, how do you play a dead body?

“You know, I had the same question,” says Michael Jupp, a stunt performer who was asked to, well, play dead. “I’ve done my fair share of acting and stunt work, but I’ve never played a dead body. So the first place you go, as anyone, is Google, to have a little look at the experiences of other people. I asked a few of my actor friends, and they’re like, ‘Just be still’.”

Jupp’s character has a fairly pedestrian death by NCIS standards – a drug-induced heart attack – but it required him to stagger while running before eventually collapsing. He then had to lie on the ground for a few hours while filming carried on around him.

“You’re just still and you try not to breathe with your chest, so you don’t look alive,” he says. “And if you do need to take a breath, go deep in the belly.”

Jupp also spent a couple of days on the autopsy table. “They make you super pale, with purpley dark bits under your eyes to make you look a bit lifeless,” says Jupp. “Then, because it was an investigative autopsy, they had to put prosthetics on my chest. The first thing we did was the sewn-up version, with the big Y-shape and stitches.

“Then there was a prosthetic change, where they put the open chest on. And that was like a massive build, from hip to shoulder. I couldn’t move at all, they were like: ‘If you move, it’ll break the seams and we’ll have to start again’.”

And the best thing about being a dead body? “It was a lot of getting paid to lie down,” says Jupp.

‘All sorts of sticky situations’

If O’Neill has his way, there’ll be plenty more opportunities for actors to play dead. “I can imagine a couple of [future] episodes shot up in Darwin,” he says. “There’s a huge port up in Darwin that houses a continual marine rotation unit, of anywhere between 3000 and 4000 Marines who get in all sorts of sticky situations up there.”

What about other US TV franchises, does O’Neill see a future with Law and Order: Melbourne perhaps?

“Melbourne can have Law and Order and then we can keep NCIS: Sydney and we can just co-exist,” he says. “The world is in a pretty dark place right now. I was just talking to one of my story producers and she said it’s actually good to come to work and be thinking of stories that are slightly escapist, where you can tell a story and wrap it up and actually love the people for what they’re doing. And I hope audiences feel that.”

NCIS: Sydney streams on Paramount+ from November 10.

#ncis sydney

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teconkaals · 1 year

Text

Walking With A Ghost 10

Not knowing what to answer, John remained silent. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that he understood even if he didn't share it, but the lump in his throat was too big to let him speak. Amelia shook her head, bit her lower lip, and put her hand up to her eyes. "I'd like to be alone," she asked. "Sure, yes. I'll come see you in…" "No," she cut off, her voice breaking. "You don't need to come back anymore."

Angst but with confort, I promise.

⚠ Sensitive content: Medical hospitalization, non-explicit suicide attempt, blood, torture mention.

AO3 Chapter link: Chapter 10 - Broken Heart

Fanfic Masterlist: Here

Next Chapter: Chapter 11 - Rest

Previous Chapter: Chapter 9 - Unforgiven

Wordcount: 8020

Rating: Mature

Tags of the fanfic (some of them): hurt/comfort, taking care of each other, blood and violence, happy ending, non explicit sex

A/N: I'm sorry it took me so long to publish, life has been a bit difficult for me. I hope you are well and that you like it! In the next chapter we will return with Ghost and Soap. Take care of yourselves.

I don’t give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform (I’m publishing on my Ao3 account both English and Spanish).

JOHN PRICE - SAS BROKEN HEART SAS CAMP, CREDENHILL, UK FEBRUARY 19, 2017, 07:25

The ringing of the phone woke John up. He reached out for it, rubbed his eyes to clear them, and squinted at the screen.

It was Emma.

He sat up abruptly and picked up, his heart pounding in his ears.

"How’s Amelia?" he whispered.

"Stable," she replied. "It has cost us a lot, but she’ll survive. And no, you can't come see her. She is in the recovery unit and it’ll still take her several hours to wake up. I’ll call you as soon as she does."

"Emma…"

"No," she cut off. "You can see Simon, if you want. He's conscious."

"I will."

John hung up the call and breathed deeply. Relief lifted its weight from his shoulders and he cried again, this time with happiness. Both Simon and Amelia were fine, they would survive, and that was what mattered at that moment. Price showered again and left his room, heading to the infirmary to ask for his Sergeant's room and advanced through the building until he located it. John knocked a few times and went in when Ghost gave him permission.

"Captain," he greeted.

Simon was lying on the gurney, with an IV connected to his arm and a bandage on his head. Despite being one of the privileged few to be able to see Ghost's face, John was surprised that such a young face had such a tired expression. He knew what Simon had been through and it hurt him that life seemed to give him no respite; first what happened to Roba and Ghost’s family and, then, the death of Roach and Rebel. Price sighed, trying not to think about it, and grabbed the chair that was in the room, moved it to the stretcher and sat on it.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

Simon shrugged, though he could only move one of them.

"I'll survive. They say I’ve to stay under observation for a few days for the concussion on my head," he huffed. "I don't think it's necessary."

John couldn't help but smile.

"And the shoulder injury?"

"The bullet went in and out cleanly. It hasn't hit any tendons or bones, so I just have to let it heal."

"Glad to hear it."

"How… is Amelia?"

"She... almost didn't make it," John looked out the window. "But Emma told me that they’re able to stabilize her."

"Good thing," Simon whispered with relief.

"She's still unconscious from her sedation, so I haven't been able to see her. I'll let you know as soon as Emma gives me any new news."

"I appreciate it."

Silence fell in the room, a comfortable and familiar silence between them. Although they enjoyed talking, most of the time they kept each other silent company.

"You're not going to ask me what happened?"

Price looked at him and frowned a little.

"I wanted to wait for you to feel better."

"I'm better now."

The Captain raised an eyebrow and let the comment pass. He didn't agree with Simon, but he wasn't going to argue either. John took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms.

"Alright," he conceded. "Tell me what happened. Who was thrown down the cliff?"

"König."

Price stared at him, feeling his body tense.

"Was he the arms dealer?"

Simon nodded.

"Amelia and I followed him through the corridors," he looked down at his hands, which rested on the blanket that covered him. "He floored me down and shot me before facing her," he shook his head. "He knocked me out and I couldn't do anything to help her."

"Not your fault, Simon," Price replied, looking at him with a sad expression. It hurt him a lot to see him like that.

"When I regained consciousness, Amelia had been able to throw him over the cliff."

John was aware that Simon had avoided the comment again.

"You came out alive and did a good job."

"I'm sorry, but I disagree," Simon replied tartly. "Amelia’s near death and they haven't found König's body. I won't rest until she wakes up and he appears."

"Simon…"

"Don't bother," he interrupted. "Nothing you say will help me."

The Captain sighed and scratched the back of his neck.

"I'll tell Emma to send the psychologist on call."

"For what?" Simon growled. "I’m fine."

Price frowned and looked at him seriously.

"I don't think you're feeling well, son."

Ghost snorted.

"Do whatever you want. It’ll help me just like the last few times."

John took a deep breath, defeated. He had tried everything he could to get Simon to open up to a specialist; for him to tell them what Roba did to him, the loss of his family and his partners’ death so he could turn the page. However, it was becoming impossible for Price. Simon remained silent throughout the session, saying goodbye politely at the end and never returning. John once decided to send him on leave away from Credenhill, to see if it would help him, but it didn't. Ghost took advantage of it to go hunting in the forests of northern Norway and returned just as taciturn. It was at that moment that Price realized he wasn't going to get anything.

"Have you eaten?" he asked to change the subject.

"Not yet," Simon replied.

John stood up.

"I'll get you something."

"No need, I'm not hungry."

The Captain glanced at him and scratched the back of his neck. Although Simon was very good at hiding how he felt, Price had learned to read him and understood that he didn't need company.

"Would you prefer if I left you alone?"

Simon nodded wordlessly and Price sighed dejectedly. He put a hand on his shoulder in a supportive gesture and left the room. John left the infirmary, went to the cafeteria to get a coffee and locked himself in his office to review overdue reports. The attempt to distract himself worked quite well for a few days, resting only to eat with Simon and sleep. The Sergeant's injuries were slowly improving, although Emma had not yet discharged him because she was concerned about his mental health. She had also tried to get him to talk to the psychologist and he had recognized that he couldn't do anything with him. Both Price and Emma agreed with his suggestion about giving Simon medication, however, they were aware that he wouldn’t take it once he was discharged. Still, Price wasn't going to throw in the towel; he would keep looking for a way for Ghost to talk about his problems, with whoever it was, and try to move on. Unfortunately, during those days all he could think of was Amelia.

Emma had let him see her two days after the operation and John had never felt so heartbroken. Amelia looked awful, intubated and with several IVs connected to her arms, including one red with blood. She was covered in bruises and bandages, her left wrist was in a cast and her right leg was immobilized. Slowly, Price moved toward the stretcher and took off his hat, swallowing hard to suppress the urge to cry. He closed his eyes and took Amelia's good hand in his, brought it to his lips and kissed it.

"We had to remove her spleen and a kidney," Emma commented softly. "Her left wrist and right femur are broken, as well as some ribs that have pierced her lungs and liver. She also has a severe contusion to her head and several gunshot wounds."

"Fucking hell…" John whispered.

"It's a miracle she's still alive."

John turned to her.

"Is she... out of danger?"

"We think so," Emma acknowledged, looking at him carefully. "At the moment, she seems to be evolving favorably, but..." she sighed. "Her injuries are very, very serious, John. We're going to have to keep her under observation for quite some time."

He nodded and looked back at Amelia. If it weren't for all those instruments, and the sound of the heart monitor, she seemed to be sleeping. Just like the night before, in his arms.

Before you broke his heart.

Price closed his eyes and shoved the thought away. He turned around, put on his hat and, thanking Emma, left the room. He didn’t visit Amelia again until several days later, when they called him because she was going into surgery again. He waited five hours until the surgeon informed him what had happened; something about a sutured wound that had ruptured and caused internal bleeding, the truth is that he didn't dwell on the reason because he only cared to know how Amelia was doing. They let him in to see her for a few minutes and, although they told him that everything seemed to be in order, John saw Amelia much worse than the last time. Much paler. He tried to convince himself that it was his own mood that was preventing him from being positive and he approached her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and kissed her forehead.

John left the room and focused back on work, returning to the routine of reviewing reports, supervising new recruits and eating and dining with Simon. The Sergeant continued with the same attitude, eating just enough to stay healthy and speaking little. Even though he usually had things to talk about, Price didn't feel up to giving him more conversation.

When Emma called him again a few days later, he feared the worst. However, the doctor had good news.

"She's awake," she informed him. "We’ve done tests to check her neurological status and she’s fine. You can see her whenever you want."

As soon as John hung up, he forced himself to take a deep breath to calm his urge to cry. Price got up, putting on his hat, and headed toward the infirmary. He took out her cell phone again as soon as he entered and dialed Simon's number.

"Amelia's awake," he informed him.

Silence fell

"How... is she?" Simon’s usually grave voice sounded much lower and Price could sense a worried tone in it.

"Emma says that neurologically she's fine," he sighed. "The rest... only time will tell."

"I see."

"I'm in the building, on my way to see her, do you want me to pick you up?"

"No. I'll go later."

"Are you sure?"

Simon sighed.

"I need to get ready for it, Price."

John realized that he wasn't the only one who had a hard time seeing Amelia so broken. He felt like an idiot for forgetting.

"Of course. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything."

"I will," he paused briefly. "Thank you, Price. For everything."

Simon hung up and John frowned, a little surprised by his words. Price had a little bad feeling because it was rare for Simon to say thank you for something; However, he forced himself to shake his head. He was sure it was due to both of their tiredness combined with the relief of knowing that Amelia was awake.

He sighed and stopped in front of the door to Amelia's room and his heart skipped a beat when he heard her voice on the other side, indicating that he could come in.

"John?" Amelia said when she saw him, raising her eyebrows in a gesture of surprise.

"Emma called me," he replied, closing the door behind him and moving toward the stretcher. There was a chair next to it and he sat on it. "How are you?"

Amelia snorted.

"Alive, that's what counts," she paused and looked away. When she spoke, she did so in a lower voice. "Emma told me I've almost died twice. It's… weird. As a doctor I'm not used to being on the other side, you know?" she added with a half smile.

Unable to help himself, Price took her hand and she looked at him.

"It's normal to be scared," he commented. "You need to talk about it?"

Amelia shook her head, watching as his thumb stroked the back of her hand.

"I've been mentally prepared to die on the battlefield for a long time. And after Gary... well, you learn to have perspective."

John nodded.

"Still, you can call me for whatever you need."

"Thank you," she paused. "How's Simon?"

"Stable. His injuries are lighter than yours. The bruise on his head has healed well and the wound on his shoulder is progressing..."

"I'm not talking about his physical injuries," Amelia interrupted him abruptly.

Price frowned and looked at her blankly.

"He's okay," he replied. "I spoke to him about ten minutes ago."

Amelia frowned as she looked at him, shocked.

"He hasn't told you," she whispered, stunned.

“What?”

"König forced him to watch while he tortured me," Amelia answered bluntly. "He made him see how he shot me, how he stabbed me and how he broke my bones."

John set his jaw but kept a neutral expression. He remained silent as Amelia continued speaking.

"König told Simon that he remembered him; that he remembered killing Gary and Rebel and that he would make him see how he took out another of his partners," she breathed deeply. "I don't even know how I did it, but I managed to get rid of König and his partner before... well, before the adrenaline wasn't enough to make me forget the pain."

"He… said he was knocked unconscious," Price managed to say, through the lump in his throat.

"And you believed him?" she hissed. "John: Simon is mentally devastated because he feels guilty about what happened to me. Right now, his mind is trying to break him as he tries to convince him that Gary and Rebel's deaths are also his fault."

Thank you, Price. For everything.

Simon's words echoed in his mind and John had a bad feeling. He took out his mobile and called him. Amelia frowned before understanding.

"You left him alone?!" she almost screamed. "John, what were you thinking?!"

After the sixth ring, he got up without saying anything and left the room in a hurry. The call was cut off due to lack of response and he tried again, running through the hallways and dodging people. John burst into Ghost's room and found the stretcher empty. He looked for him, gasping for breath, and went straight to the window when he saw it open. Price sighed with relief when he saw that Simon hadn't jumped and called him again. A phone rang in the bathroom and he headed there. He flung open the door and her heart sank as soon as he entered.

"Simon, no," he whispered, approaching the shower where Ghost stood motionless.

Desperate, he looked for a pulse in Simon’s neck and screamed for help. He sat up slightly to grab a towel and wet it before pressing down on Simon's arms. John knew he wouldn't get anything, that the cuts were deep, but he needed to try. Suddenly the room was full of people and they moved Ghost to the stretcher, quickly taking him to the operating room. Price waited, his heart pounding in his fist, until the surgeon came out to inform him.

"He's stable," he said wearily. "There doesn't appear to be any nerve or tendon damage, but we’ll have to wait to confirm."

"Thank goodness…"

The surgeon looked at him carefully for a few seconds.

"Captain, as a doctor I advise you to take a couple of days off. You look like you haven't slept in a month and I think you need to get proper rest."

Price nodded, distracted, and walked away to see Amelia. He had informed her of Simon's situation and, now that he was out of surgery, he preferred to speak with her in person. He entered the room after knocking and felt an iron fist strangling his heart when he saw her expression.

"How is him?" Amelia asked in a whisper, eyes red from crying.

"Stable," Price responded, running his hands over his face and approaching her. "They believe that there will be no motor consequences."

Amelia looked at the ceiling and blinked, nodding. John felt the urge to hug her, to tell her that everything would be okay, but he repressed it because he was aware that now was not the time for that.

"I want to stop," Amelia whispered suddenly, without looking at him.

Price frowned a little, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"The army, what else?" She raised her good hand and smiled bitterly. "I'm tired, John. Tired of suffering for nothing. Tired of seeing the people I love fall."

"Amy, don't you think…?"

"I'm not going to think about it anymore," she interrupted him, looking at him with a pained expression. "I’ve lost my brother. I almost lost Simon. And I was almost killed. I’ve had my spleen and a kidney removed and my dominant hand is broken. I’m not fit to be on the battlefield and I refuse to be locked in an office," Amelia looked away and snorted. "I don't want to know anything more about the army."

"I'd like to be alone," she asked.

"Sure, yes. I'll come see you in…"

"No," she cut off, her voice breaking. "You don't need to come back anymore."

John almost stopped breathing when he heard her. He felt his heart break into a thousand pieces and it caused him a pain stronger than any wound he had received. He forced himself to take a deep breath to keep from collapsing right there and nodded even though he knew he wasn't looking at him. After opening his mouth a couple of times, he managed to find the words to respond.

"Alright," he murmured. "If… you need anything, you know where to find me. I'll always be available, Amy. Always."

She didn’t answer and Price left the room and the infirmary. He walked towards his room and sat on the bed, staring into space. Although he felt like crying, John was unable to do so and it made him angry. He needed to cry. He needed to let out everything he was feeling, however, his body seemed to be blocked. He closed his eyes and took out the phone.

It was a good time to listen to the surgeon and take a handful of days off.

JOHN PRICE - TF 141 AMELIA SAS CAMP, CREDENHILL, UK DECEMBER 3, 2022, 01:05

John woke up with a start, blinking and rubbing his eyes tiredly. He’d fallen asleep in his office chair, in front of the laptop, and took that as a sign to go to bed. He turned off the computer and lowered the lid. With a sigh, Price got up, put on his hat and left the office towards his room in the barracks. As one of the Captains, Price had the small privilege of having his own room. It had always been like that, to keep the commanders close in case of need. In the end, he used it when he worked too hard and he was too tired to drive to Hereford. Days like today; however, John didn’t want to go home.

Price opened his room’s door, carefully, and entered in silence. The small lamp on the table was on and covered with one of his hats to dim the light. He smiled fondly when he saw Amelia, who was sleeping soundly hugging his pillow, and leaned against the door to watch her.

She wanted to go home, but Price convinced her to stay there, in his room. Price knew Amelia would be exhausted because she, like him, hadn’t slept well for days. And he certainly wouldn't be the one to allow her to drive while sleep deprived. Luckily, Amelia was a sensible person who was aware of her limitations and that's why he easily got her to stay. Neither of them wanted her to fall asleep at the wheel.

On the other hand, convincing her to sleep in his bed, instead of on the couch, had been another story.

With a light sigh, John walked over to one of the closets, opened it, and pulled a blanket out of it. Careful not to wake her, he covered Amelia and she snuggled into the contact. She had lain down without covering up in the middle of December in an army barracks, Price would be surprised if she hadn't caught a cold. John tilted his head and caressed her face before grabbing another blanket for him and sitting on the couch. He took off his boots, lay down and covered himself, closing his eyes to try to get some sleep.

John woke up several hours later, with another blanket on top of his own and the bedside light off. He blinked, looking at the clock, and stretched himself, sighing with resignation as he saw the empty and well-made bed.

Of course she left without telling me, he thought bitterly. Why would she?

Price shook his head and gathered up the blankets, took a shower to clear his head and left the room in search of a strong coffee. As he left the cafeteria, he crossed paths with Amelia and they both looked at each other for a long moment, in silence, until John broke it.

"We need to talk."

She frowned and looked at him with concern.

"Is Simon okay?"

He sighed and nodded.

"He's fine. It's not about him."

Amelia's eyebrows parted a little in surprise and she took a deep breath.

"Okay... let's talk in your office?"

"Of course."

He let her lead the way and they walked until they reached the office building. Amelia entered first and Price closed the door carefully behind him.

"Okay, what's up?" she asked, crossing her arms and resting her hip on the table.

John looked at her and took a deep breath. Throughout all his years as a soldier, he had faced all kinds of situations, all kinds of decisions, and nothing made him as afraid and insecure as talking to Amelia.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out bluntly.

She frowned blankly.

"Why?"

“For what happened five years ago.”

Amelia opened her eyes and mouth, clearly surprised, but John hadn't finished speaking.

"I was an idiot and I got scared. I thought neither of us would be able to leave the army and I knew it was something very important to you, so I didn't want you to feel obligated to leave it either. I... I felt too young to form a family and I was afraid that the higher-ups would find out. Nothing would have happened to me but to you..." he sighed and shook his head. "It doesn't matter, in the end all of this are just excuses" he looked into her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Amelia. Truly."

She stared at him for a few long seconds before huffing and rubbing her hands over her face.

"You're an idiot," she remarked.

"Sorry?"

"You're forgiven. I know you, John, so I already knew all that," she looked at him with some sadness. "And that would’ve been solved if we had talked, but… sometimes things are beyond our control," she looked away. "Fear paralyzed you. Pain paralyzed me. We couldn't do much more."

Price felt his heart break when he heard Amelia. Life played with both to prevent them from speaking after what happened and made them wait five years so they could do so. John took a couple of steps towards her, watching her carefully. Although Amelia kept her arms crossed over her chest, her body posture had changed and he knew that she was now trying to protect herself. Price wanted to hug her, tell her that everything would be okay, but he held back. He didn't know if Amelia wanted any physical contact with him. In fact, he didn't know if she wanted any kind of contact.

"So, now what?"

Amelia looked up and frowned a little.

"What do you mean?"

"What… do you want me to do?"

She seemed to understand.

"I don't need you to do anything. Actually, I never did. I just… wanted an apology and I already got one."

John nodded, still, there was one more question he needed to ask.

"And... do you want me to keep staying out of your life?"

Amelia's expression softened.

"Of course not. Although it doesn’t seem like it, I’ve missed you."

Price's heart warmed when he heard it and caused a small spark of hope to light in his chest. Even after so many years, and despite all the difficulties they’d suffered, he was still in love with her. He came even closer to Amelia and dared to hug her. To her surprise, she returned the gesture.

"I've missed you too," he whispered and Amelia held him a little tighter.

"I'm sorry, John," she whispered, her voice strangled.

Price kissed her hair and held her for a long time, enjoying her presence again, the warmth of her body, until she pulled away with a sigh.

"I think I better go," Amelia whispered. "I promised Simon I'd stop by and… I need to think about a lot of things."

John let her go, feeling the emptiness of her presence, and nodded.

"Anything you need…"

"I'll call you, yeah," she interrupted with a smile. The same one that had stolen his heart so many years ago.

Price smiled at her and she left the room. Silence fell on him like a slab of concrete and he forced herself to get back to work. There would be no point in standing there feeling miserable, and it would do him good to distract himself.

John paused at lunchtime. He stretched out in the chair and looked at the ceiling to rest his eyes. He was considering visiting Simon to ask him about the results when his phone buzzed with a notification. He looked at it with a frown and the phone vibrated again, briefly illuminating the screen. Price took it and unlocked it to see what it was.

There were two messages from Amelia.

The first was a link to a location, a pub that was near her house and that they had gone to once, a long time ago. The second message was quite concise: "See you at seven." Price cocked her head and breathed deeply.

Although Amelia was a very important person to him, he felt torn again. Of course she would keep the appointment, however, she had to put peace between the two wolves that lived within him. One of them, he wanted to hold on to that little spark of hope; the other, he preferred to maintain a negative attitude. And, even though they had talked and fixed things, neither of them had made it clear if they still felt the same way about each other. John was clear about it, but he wouldn't put his hand in the fire for Amelia's feelings.

Although Amelia was a very important person to him, John felt divided again. Of course he would keep the appointment, however, he had to put peace between the two wolves that lived within him. One of them wanted to hold on to that little spark of hope; the other preferred to maintain a negative attitude. And, even though Amelia and he had talked and fixed things, neither of them had made it clear if they still felt the same way about each other. John was clear about it, but he wouldn't stake his life on Amelia's feelings.

Price shook his head and stood up. He stopped by the cafeteria to grab some food and headed towards Simon's room. The Lieutenant was eating and greeted him with a nod.

"I'm just in time," John commented, sitting in the chair next to the stretcher.

"You've always been very precise in making triumphant arrivals," Ghost replied.

Price burst out laughing and Simon looked at him curiously.

"I see you in a good mood."

"I am," John replied. "What have they told you about the results?"

Simon shrugged.

"They're all fine. My wounds are healing as they should, so I'll be discharged in a couple of days."

"I highly doubt Emma is going to clear you to work."

Ghost snorted, grumpily.

"They discharge me from this place, but I’ve to be off work for two months."

"I thought so."

Simon paused and glanced at the small table, where a bottle of water and a bunch of keys rested.

"Johnny wants me to stay with him. He even gave me a copy of the keys to his house."

Price raised his eyebrows in surprise, but quickly smiled.

"That's good news. It'll be good for you to be away from work so you won't be tempted to start early. You'll also be able to rest without any pressure. Plus, civilian life can be fun."

Simon looked at him and smirked.

"You haven't gone out to enjoy civilian life in years, Price."

He laughed.

"But I've lived it, son. Besides, Christmas is coming up; MacTavish might want you to come with him."

Simon snorted again.

"Christmas isn't for me. Also, Johnny’s probably going back to Scotland around that time."

John nodded without losing his smile.

"Maybe he won't do it alone."

He saw Simon frown a little before understanding what he was suggesting. Ghost cursed and shook his head.

"That's not my place."

"I think it's up to Soap to decide, don't you think?"

The Lieutenant took a deep breath and looked at him carefully.

"Amelia told me that you've finally talked."

Price smiled kindly at the radical change of subject. He knew Simon wouldn't dwell on it, but he was also aware that MacTavish wouldn't let Ghost spend Christmas alone. Of all the things that had happened in the last few months, that was the one that made him the most happy: that Simon seemed to be opening up to John. Maybe, with any luck, they would help each other.

"It's only taken us five years," he nodded.

"I still find it hard to believe that I had to give you the push."

John laughed.

"Ironic, yes, but grateful," he commented and paused before adding, more quietly. "She wants... to meet tonight."

"Don't screw up."

"Don't worry," Price smiled and stood up. "I’ve to supervise the training of the recruits, so I should be going."

"Why don't you send Garrick?"

"As silly as it may seem, it makes me feel young," John laughed. "It reminds me of when I discovered you. Or MacTavish."

"You're not as old as you think, Price," commented Simon.

"The years weigh more on someone like me," he placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder and pressed gently. "I see you tomorrow."

"Thanks for stopping by."

John grinned and left the room. He headed to the training ground and spent the rest of the day there, watching and correcting the recruits. It was true what he had told Simon, it made him feel younger. Since he was Captain, John barely had time for it and he missed it. Teaching them how to do things had always been something he really enjoyed. In general, he enjoyed teaching and was sure that he would have been a teacher if he had not entered the army.

Maybe that's not a bad idea either, he thought, leaving the camp after showering and heading towards the car. Retire and become a teacher.

Price began to laugh helplessly. He didn't see himself in a class full of kids willing to learn, but on the other hand, he wanted to try. Maybe be a physical education teacher, help his students exercise properly. Maybe he even taught them self-defense.

He parked the car and walked to the pub, still smiling and widening his smile when he saw Amelia waiting there, her hands in her jacket pockets. She turned around as soon as she spotted him and looked at him with genuine curiosity.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"I was thinking that, in another life, I’d have been a teacher."

She burst out laughing.

"Seriously?"

"Totally. In fact, I think I’d make an excellent physical education teacher."

Amelia chuckled again and nodded.

"That’s true, the typical strict but fun teacher."

"I'm not funny," Price huffed, cracking a half smile.

"You’re when you put your mind to it," she laughed and he followed suit.

John cocked his head as he realized she was wearing a beanie. One that looked very familiar.

"I think that's mine."

"It is," Amelia smiled mischievously. "Or it was because it's mine now," she chuckled and Price smiled. "Come on, let's go in. I'm hungry."

"And when you're not hungry?" he replied, following her inside.

Amelia nudged him gently and they both burst out laughing. They sat at a table, ordered something to eat and drink, and talked for three hours. They caught up properly and Price learned that, although Amelia was working at the university as a medical lecturer, she had acquired a pub that seemed to be doing quite well. He also discovered that neither had changed, that it was as if everything had resumed after that day in the hospital, as if nothing had happened.

"I've managed to play again," she smiled, finishing the dessert. "I'm not as good at it as I used to be, but it's something."

John looked at her with a mix between sadness and joy. He felt sorry for her because music was something very important to her, on the other hand, the fact that she had been able to play again was very good news.

"I'm glad to hear that."

Amelia nodded, distracted as she looked at her hand.

"Rehab was very hard," she murmured and picked up the glass to swirl the liquid inside. "I wanted to throw in the towel more times than I'll admit," she smiled and looked at him. "But, eh, in the end I managed to be left-handed again."

Unable to help it, Price smiled slyly.

"The world has felt a disturbance in the Force," he commented, sipping some of her whiskey.

"Hey!" Amelia tossed him the napkin and they both laughed. She took a deep breath and played with her glass again. "You know, sometimes I miss the army. The training, the raids, the conversations in the cafeteria... But then I think about everything else and it goes away," she finished the wine in one gulp. "Holding on to how we were at a specific time is a mistake I don't want to make. None of that will come back."

"It's a very wise stance."

"I've always been an intellectual. I'm a doctor, remember?"

Price laughed.

"How can I forget. Many of the scars I’ve are from your work."

"My suture’s perfect," she replied, drinking some water, "it's not my fault your wounds were always serious."

John smiled and looked at his glass of whiskey.

"The truth is, I owe you more than one."

"Totally agree."

They laughed and finished dinner. John insisted on paying and, after arguing a bit, Amelia finally relented. He took a deep breath as they left the pub and lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke and releasing it slowly.

"You should stop smoking," she chided gently, putting on her beanie.

"I’m trying. Actually, I smoke less than before," he admitted, watching the flame consume the cigarette, "but there are certain situations where I can't help it."

"That's called stress," Amelia pointed out with a half smile.

Price chuckled.

"It's possible."

A comfortable silence fell over them as the snow escaped from the sky. Amelia smiled and reached up to pick up a flake, putting it in her mouth, and John smiled. No, she certainly hadn't changed at all in all those years.

"Do you want me to walk you home?"

He almost whispered it, loud enough for her to hear. Amelia looked at him, surprised, and looked away, focusing on the street before them.

"No, there's no need," she replied and Price's heart broke a little. Then, she smiled and tilted her head. "But you may need someone to come with you. You've been drinking, maybe a doctor should supervise you."

He laughed and put out his cigarette in the ashtray next to the pub entrance.

"You're sure?"

Amelia shoved her hands into her jacket and took two steps forward before turning around to face him. She smiled and walked backwards.

"Of course. I'm a doctor, remember?" She burst out laughing. "Tell me, where did you park that relic of yours?"

"It's not a relic, it's a classic," he replied, walking behind her.

"It's older than you," Amelia laughed. "So it's a relic. You should buy a newer car. A safer one."

"I'll change it when I can't fix it.”

"Fix it? I'm sure there aren't even spare parts in the scrapyards," Amelia started to laugh and John smiled a little more. "Not even imports. The brand stopped making them in, dunno, seventeen hundred?"

"The first car is from the late eighteen hundred, smartass," he responded, stopping next to the vehicle and opening the passenger door. "My lady."

Amelia chuckled and got into the car. Price got behind the wheel and drove to his house, dodging what little traffic there was at that hour. He parked in the garage and, as they took the elevator up to his apartment, he felt the same insecurity as five years ago. The kind of doubts that a fifteen-year-old has about his first love. The two wolves stirred inside him again and he tried to convince them that this meant nothing, that the fact that Amelia had agreed to accompany him home did not mean that she wanted anything more.

We'll have a few more drinks, she'll sleep in the guest room and I'll take her home tomorrow, he thought. Nothing else.

He held back a sigh and opened the door, letting her enter first. Price closed the door and took off his jacket, leaving it on the coat rack. He was about to enter the kitchen when her voice caught his attention.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You still keep it!"

He followed her into the living room and saw Amelia go to one of the shelves to grab something. John smiled when he saw the stuffed quokka dressed as a soldier and touched its synthetic fur with his finger.

"Of course," he replied, "it's the first gift you ever gave me. 'You smile like a quokka,' you said."

"And you still do," Amelia smiled. "But… I thought you threw it away."

"Why would I? It's important to me. In fact, I keep everything you gave me," he added, looking at her.

Amelia opened her mouth slightly in surprise and smiled. She looked down, biting her lower lip, and looked closely at the stuffed animal.

"I keep them all too," she admitted softly.

"Actually, I thought so," John commented, reaching for the beanie she was still wearing and pulling it gently.

Amelia started to laugh.

"I think that's more of a theft."

"It is, yes," John tilted his head and smiled a little wider. "Now that I think about it, it's true that you’re a little thief. You've already stolen several things from me."

"Excuse me, but it's not theft if you let me take them," Amelia replied, reaching out to retrieve the beanie.

Price moved it out of her reach and looked at her fondly.

"You're right about that," he offered it to her and Amelia looked at him curiously. "I give it to you."

"But… it's your favorite," she said, picking it up without being entirely sure.

"That didn't stop you from taking it from me five years ago," he chuckled.

"It was to spite you," Amelia admitted.

"Are you implying my beanie isn't pretty enough to steal?"

Amelia looked at him indignantly and smiled slyly.

"What I'm saying, Captain Price, is that you’re a complete idiot."

John laughed and looked at her for a few seconds before focusing.

"Well, what do you want to drink?" he asked, walking into the kitchen. "I’ve whiskey, bourbon, vodka and beer," he opened the fridge to check if he had any cold ones. "Actually, I still have a brown ale left. I think that was your favorite, right?"

"It is, but I don't want to drink anything with alcohol."

John straightened and looked at her over the refrigerator door.

"But… you've only had one glass of wine," he commented, confused as he remembered her as someone with a good handle on alcohol.

She burst out laughing.

"I remind you that I’ve one kidney and that limits the amount of alcohol I can drink."

"Right, I’d forgotten," he smiled, a little embarrassed. He put the beer down and took a deep breath. "Well... I’ve water, if you want. Or would you prefer a glass of milk?" he added, mockingly.

Amelia rolled her eyes, still smiling, and closed the fridge door softly.

"It's amazing that you're still such an idiot."

"And you're a nonconformist," John replied. "You don't want anything I offer you."

She was silent and took a deep breath, looking at the magnets on the fridge.

"The truth’s that there’s something I fancy."

"Tell me, I'll go buy it."

Amelia looked at him and John's heart skipped a beat when he saw the love in her eyes.

"You," she replied briefly. "Unless you don't feel like it, in which case I think I'll accept that bottle of whiskey."

"Didn't you say you couldn't drink any more alcohol?" John asked, unable to contain himself.

"That I don't want to, not that I can't," Amelia pointed out and sighed. "A day is a day."

She turned around and walked toward the kitchen door. In that instant, John was aware that Amelia had interpreted his question as a refusal from her and he hurried after her. He swallowed and intercepted Amelia before she left the room, gently pushing her towards the wall.

"Where are you going?" he asked quietly.

"To get that bottle of whiskey," she whispered, smiling.

Price moved one hand to place it on her waist and leaned over her a little so he could speak into her ear.

"I don't think you need it."

"You're sure?" sighed Amelia, placing her hands on his abdomen. "I'm afraid I'll need proof, or I'll be forced to raid your minibar."

John smiled and kissed her below her ear, just at the edge of her lower jaw. Amelia pressed her hands a little more on his abdomen, sighing, and Price continued to her mouth, leaving soft kisses along the way. Amelia's bottom lip trembled as he brushed it with his, waited half a second, and kissed her. They both moaned and she opened her mouth to let him enter. Price kissed her again, pulling her to him, and Amelia clung to his neck.

"Bed… bedroom?" She managed to whisper in his ear, shuddering when John bit the base of her neck.

He grunted an affirmation and pulled away from her. Amelia smiled at him and took his hand, pulling him to the room. Unlike their first night together, they took it easy. Without fear of tomorrow, and without fear of anyone finding out, they enjoyed each other; they made each other laugh, caressed each other and moaned each other's names, trembling with pleasure. And, although John was dying to tell Amelia that he loved her, he held his tongue as looked back at her in her arms. He kissed her and Amelia turned her back on him to curl up in his lap. John pulled the covers over them and hugged her, kissed her shoulder and closed his eyes, feeling at peace.

John woke up early and, after watching Amelia sleep for a few long minutes, decided to get up and make breakfast. He knew she was a heavy sleeper and would take a little longer to wake up, so he took it easy.

"Are those pancakes I smell?"

He turned with the coffee pot in his hand and saw Amelia at the door, sniffing the air. John smiled.

"With banana, walnuts and chocolate syrup, the way you like them. It's a shame it's not strawberry season."

Amelia looked at him in surprise and sat at the table. John placed a cup of coffee in front of her and set the milk down next to her, returning to the stove to flip one of the pancakes.

"You… didn’t have to bother," she said quietly.

Price placed the last pancake on the plate and turned off the heat, pushing the pan aside before looking at her.

"You're right," he admitted. "I shouldn't be so nice to a person who tends to steal my clothes."

Amelia laughed and sipped some coffee.

"Sorry, it was the first thing I found. If you want the shirt back, go find mine."

John smiled and looked at her fondly.

"I don't think so. You look very sexy in it."

"Sweet-talker," she smiled a little more, blushing, and John was satisfied.

Price knew it was nonsense, a cliché like any other, but he couldn't help it: he liked women who, when they woke up, only wore his clothes. A sweatshirt, a shirt, a t-shirt. Any of them. And, for years, one of the things John dreamed about most was waking up next to Amelia and having her wear one of his clothes. Of course, John’s shirt was too big for her, but it left her legs exposed and boy did she have some pretty legs.

He poured coffee into a mug and leaned on the counter, watching as Amelia pulled out a couple of pancakes and poured banana, nuts, and syrup on them. He smiled contentedly as she closed her eyes, chewing the first bite of them, enjoying the flavors.

At that moment, John confirmed what he already suspected: that he would never love anyone like her. And he found himself thinking that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Amelia; to make her breakfast when he was home, to comfort her and laugh with her when she needed it and to love her every day.

"It's amazing how good your pancakes are," Amelia commented with her mouth full. "I've been trying different recipes for years and none of them are like yours. You're going to have to give me the recipe."

"Will you marry me?"

Amelia looked at him, stunned, her cheek bulging with food. She chewed and swallowed quickly, still in awe.

"What?" she whispered as she placed the cutlery on the table.

John put the cup down and walked over to the table. He rested his hands on it and leaned a little.

"Will you marry me?" He repeated in the same assured tone. Amelia opened her mouth, but she couldn't say anything. "It's okay if the answer is no," John added. "I'll survive."

Amelia looked at him for a couple more minutes before smiling and laughing softly. She bit her lower lip and crossed her arms on the table, leaning on it to push herself up and get closer to Price's face.

"I've been loving you for fourteen years," he whispered, still smiling, "how can I say no?"

John thought he would choke with happiness hearing her and he just smiled. He supported his weight on one hand to leave the other free so he could caress Amelia's cheek and kiss her. They both knew that it wouldn’t be an easy marriage, however, John was aware that Amelia would understand because she herself had been in the military and that took a weight off his shoulders.

Price kissed Amelia again and his chest burned for the love he felt, for being reciprocated. For the security that nothing would happen if someone found out, that they wouldn't have to hide it. And also for the feeling that, for the first time in years, everything was in order.

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nat-20s · 3 years

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for @jonmartinweek THE FINAL DAY prompt- Pining/Longing. This one takes place, well, you’ll see

~*~

A Study of Longing, Told in Six Parts

Part 1

Martin wonders if he’ll ever get to a point in his life where kindness doesn’t feel like a shock to the system. It’s already surprising enough when Tim and Sasha invite him for drinks in a genuine offer of friendship, but for that kindness to come from Jon? Martin has no idea what to do with being believed, let alone being protected.

And now here he is, blearily opening his eyes only to find himself staring at a mass of hair. As he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes, the shape resolves into the form of one Jonathan Sims. He had apparently fallen asleep with his head cushioned on his arms, against the cot Martin was currently occupying. It’s not an image that Martin can fully process at the moment, so instead he debates whether or not to wake Jon up or quietly get off the cot to let him get some much needed sleep. He decides on the former, both thinking that it would be hell on his back to keep sleeping in that position, and that he would like an explanation.

Hand hovering above Jon’s shoulder, but not fully touching, Martin oh so quietly calls out, “Jon?”

That’s all it takes for Jon’s head to rush up with a gasp, glasses askew, and with the texture of his sleeves pressed in red marks on his face. It is a horribly endearing look. “Hrn?”

Martin opens his mouths, closes it, and waits for Jon to get his bearings. Jon smooths down his (frankly ridiculous) sweater-vest, adjusts his glasses, and slips back on his professional demeanor. “My apologies, Martin, I, ah, must have fallen asleep.”

Glancing to the crappy little digital clock resting on a file box next to him, Martin rolls his eyes. Only Jon could be quite so stuffy at 4:32 in the morning. “No apologies needed. Though, um, was there? Something you needed or..?”

Jon shakes his head and stands up, dusting off imaginary grime. “No, no, nothing like that. I had just, er. I had heard you cry out and I- I wanted to make sure nothing was going on. It appears that it simply a nightmare,so I will be.. taking my leave. Now.”

He doesn’t know what part of himself replies, “Oh! You don’t have to go!,” but he replies it anyway. Jon does that little thoughtful frown at him, which forces him to continue, “I mean, if you wanted the cot. For sleeping. I’ll probably be awake for the rest of the night, so, you know, no skin off my back .”

“Ah. No, that’s quite alright, Martin. Try to get some more sleep, there’s still a long work day ahead.”

Jon doesn’t even wait for a response before turning on his heel and leaving. Martin sort of hates how much he wanted him to stay.

Part 2

Jon is laughing. Jon is terrified, all the damn time, and yet, somehow, he’s laughing. Honestly, he was starting to wonder if he was still capable of it. Martin is gesticulating wildly with his fork, animated in a way that Jon’s only ever seen when in they’re in the middle of a rather silly debate. He thinks this lunch’s topic was something like whether or not snakes were cute? He lost the thread of conversation about half an hour ago, honestly. Covering his mouth, he lets the giggles run through his whole body, shaking his shoulders and heating his core. He feels light, heady, like he’s reminiscing with an old friend and they’re both on the edge of having had too much to drink.

He only wishes he could trust this feeling. He wishes that he could trust Martin, that they were normal coworkers having a normal lunch, that the previous person in Jon’s position had gone into an easy retirement instead of being violently murdered. He wishes he hadn’t read that letter telling him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Martin, Martin, who took him to lunch and brought him tea and seemed so very warm in so very cold circumstances, was lying to him.

Jon stops laughing.

Part 3

Of course, the second his body hits the simultaneously stiff and weirdly lumpy motel mattress, his phone goes off. It may only be about 8 pm, but he’s tired, and he’s sore, and he’s had a persistent headcold for the past week for some unholy reason, the last thing he wants to do is talk. However, only about four people have the number to the burner cell, and they’re almost certainly have a purpose behind their call.

Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh that turns into more of a groan, he picks up on the 4th ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jon! It’s Martin, I’m not sure if you have my number programmed in that phone, or if it even has caller ID if you do. Anyway, it’s been about a week since I’ve heard anything, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t, y’know, dead or arrested or anything.”

His previously tense and aching muscles all relax, without him consciously deciding to relax them, and a sleepy smile spreads across his face, because some time in the past year he’s become a parody of himself. Yes, maybe he should be more affronted by how much Martin’s tinny voice brings him comfort, but he’s had a rather terrible time of things since...since he began work in the archives, really, and he’s worn down enough that he can admit he misses his friend.

Huh. Friends. They are, aren’t they? Wonder when that happened. (He can guess, something involving a fake CV admission, but he doesn’t feel like it right now.) “Martin, I recognize your voice, no need to introduce yourself.”

“Right! Yes, uh, ‘course..of course you can. Right. Sooo...I take it you’re not dead, then.”

“Correct. I haven’t been arrested, either.” It’s only sort of a comforting lie, so Jon thinks it can be forgiven.

“Good. Great! Yeah, that’s...that’s good.”

The conversation could probably end there. Jon could probably tell Martin good night, and they’d hang up, and Jon could get the sleep he had been so desperately craving not moments ago. Somehow, he thinks that neither of them want that. Scrambling for something to talk about, Jon replies, “Hang on, isn’t it something like 2am over there?”

“It...might be.”

“Martin!”

“What! It’s not like you have a monopoly on bad sleeping habits. Besides, I was up anyway, and I just..”

“Just what?”

“I just missed your voice.”

Oh. Heat rushes to his cheeks, and tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes, and god. He had missed Martin’s voice too. “Really? I know you’ve had to listen to a fair number of tapes lately, thought you might be sick of it by now.”

“No. I mean, I am a bit tired of tapes, honestly, but even the ones that you recorded, that not really your voice, is it? I mean it is, but it doesn’t sound like you when you’re actually, um, you. I wanted..I wanted to hear you.”

Jon’s far too worn out to deal with that sentiment, and the way that it makes his heart clench. So instead of addressing it, he says, “I am very close to being asleep.”

“Oh. Right, sorry, I’ll let you go-”

“No! No. Um. Would you mind staying on the line? Until I’m gone? I-I like hearing your voice. As well.”

“Oh! Sure, yeah, definitely. Anything in particular you want me to talk about?”

“Whatever you like. Something nice?”

“All right. I can do that. Um. Did I tell you about this little yarn shop I found the other day. It’s called ‘Puttin’ on the knitz’, and it’s…”

Jon peacefully drifts off, listening to the voice of the man who he can only admit in moments such as these, he wishes was in this bed, laying beside him.

Part 4

please come back please come back for the love of god come back I can’t believe you’re doing this do you have any idea how stupid this is come back to me come back come back come back

Part 5

There is plenty of things to long for in the apocalypse. A decent cuppa. The relief of actual sleep. Murdering Jonah Magnus. For there not to be a apocalypse. They are grateful, however, to not have to long for each other.

Part 6

Martin comes to without a knife in his hand, or bloodstains on his clothing. Those, under other circumstances, would be good things.

Martin comes to, laying in the grass, without anyone beside him. He barely has the moment to feel agony spike through him before he’s out once more.

There are no Jonathan Sims admitted to the hospital. As far as he can tell, no one was admitted into the hospital at the same time as him, and certainly no one with a stab wound.

There are thousands of ‘Jonathan Sims UK’, typed desperately into a library computer search bar, wielding mostly results about a sport manager and a romance novelist. None of the images are of the right person.

Sometimes Martin puts one foot in front of the other, carefully blank in heart and head. Surviving, even during times that he’s not sure he wants to, is one of his greatest abilities.

Sometimes Martin despairs.

On the worst nights, he tries to call the Lonely back to him, tries to be swallowed whole. It never works. He’s not sure if it’s because the fears aren’t in the reality or if they’re not established enough to have any leverage or if his connection has simply been broken. (He doubts the last reason. He hasn’t been this alone since Tim’s funeral. Even then, Melanie had thrown a few stilted condolences towards him. No one is aware enough of him to give condolences now. He misses Melanie. He misses all of them. He misses Jon like a gaping, bleeding wound misses skin.)

Seven months later, and he has enough money saved and identity built that he moves on to Scotland. The little village they had been adjacent to exists in this reality. Daisy’s cottage does not.

On a whim, he enters the yarn shop. He’s not going to pick anything up, hobbies are the last thing he can focus on, but it’s nice to look. To feel the various textures, to take in the rich variance of colors, to, hopefully be present in his own body, if only for a moment.

Martin steps in. The bell chimes. He’s there. Standing in front of him. Whole. In a cry that’s closer to a gasp, he calls out, “JON!”

Jon turns, looks up at him, recognizes him even before he’s even fully seen him. It’s his Jon, he’s here he’s here he’s here. The callback of “MARTIN!” sounds like it was punched out of him, the start of a sob and a laugh all at once.

In a blink, they’re together, their embrace a tangle of limbs, a collision of lips, a mixture of tears. Martin can’t tell which of them is saying the litany of “thank god thank god thank god” and who’s repeating “it’s you it’s you it’s you.”

It’s Jon that’s telling him, “I knew you had to be here. I knew it, because I kept thinking. Surely. Surely this new universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to allow me to live, but to make me live without you.”

It’s Martin that replies, “I didn’t know. I thought it would be that cruel. Please don’t make me go through that again.”

Jon pulls him in tighter, eliminating the centimeter of space between them. Speaking into Martin’s neck, whispered in fierce devotion, Jon promises, “Never again. Never again. You and me. Together. For the rest of our lives.”

Barely discernible through his sobbing, Martin tells him, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~*~

There are people that think that wanting is more worthwhile than having. Martin thinks, frankly, that those people have never been in love.

#jonmartinweek2021 #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #AHHH this is just over TWO THOUSAND words #i really was like for the last prompt i will not Shut Up lmao #also fun fact! part 4 was specifically designed to not be clear whether it was from jon or martins perspective

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cooloddball · 3 years

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Someone submitted something in my inbox and they wanted to remain anonymous. Since this is an extremely long essay, I will put it under the cut. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

xxx submitted: hey, i was the one who ask what do you think of Misha and Jensen's current relationship First off all thank you for your answear it means much to me cause im easy to be convice and this person who keep telling me that they are no longer friends can be so convicing, so I'm actully trying to forget what she said 😅 so I'm just writing a few. she said that since they no longer work together, they will forget about each other, and do their common things like the gay jokes, face touches ect. With other people, and neglect each other, don't talk to each other, and then meet new people who will replace the other. And and she talked about the gish thing, she said she sure they didn't talk since the end of the series, because Jensen didn't know where Misha was and Misha didn't know about the Radio Company vol 2 (but i saw people say that, they were just pretending, because Misha liked something about Radio Company Vol 2, before the gish live, so in theory he already knew then or something like that) and She said Misha wrote a poem about Darius not Jensen and now I will write down what she sent me : I saw a post about Jensen's current activities on social media, and I've come to the conclusion the only person he doesn't interact with is mish. Sadly this makes my break up theory even stronger. I feel like this is a goodbye to one of the biggest parts of my life. They've moved on from "uk what I haven't told you today? That i love u"+ from "miss my only jensen" from "i love u misha i mean it from the bottom of my heart" from "jensen has no flaws" from "misha is the funniest thing ever happened to me" from all that love and affection from everything they developed together and now they're apart leaving their lives like nothing happened and call me a dramatic but they both have the same energy now as someone has after a big break up. and Jensen comments on almost every of his friend’s post except Misha’s"+ Jenmish is genuinely the best thing that has ever happened in my entire life. I owe them literally everything. They're the reason i hold on. Unfortunately on this essay i have to start using past tense verbs for them, and i have to continue on that. I don't know for how long y'all been in spn fandom. But even if u joined one year before the show ended you'd know how close and intimate jensen and misha were. Everything about them was unmatched.+ The chemistry and how they just fit eachother. They had always been all over eachother. Like they were holding on eachother for dear life. They completed eachother and were like world's most powerful thing. They were the definition of soulmatism. No matter where, they ALWAYS kept interacting with eachother. Each possible tweet or insta post. On cons that the other wasn't there, the other one would bring up the othere's name for no absolute reason. +The looks and repeated love confessions. How invested they were both into eachother. The family they had built together cuz we know how close dee and mish are (look all the charity work they've been doing together recently). There are youtube videos to proof everything I've said so far.When i say break up, my real intention is that they've grown apart. Everything started in the the third or forth month of pandemic. Before than jensen used to interact +(comment mostly) on almost all of misha's posts. But after a while everything just stopped. At first personally didn't care that much. Bcuz I believed too much in them that I thought not even the gods above could separate them. I told myself maybe they spend long hours chatting or video calling and that's why online public interactions are gone. But as it passed it almost diminished to zero. Except some likes from jackles and eventual ones from misha there weren't anything else.+ We got absolutely no content and the show went off too. We were helpless and were sticking to everything we had Dee had a big social media shot down, so as jensen. Misha was busy with the election. We got some interviews for it with all of them. But we didn't get much.except remember both of them pulling a bff

move. and texted eachother during an online con where everyone else were dead-serious about politics? That flickered something in me. That showed me that+ they can't ever possibly let eachother go. And the times everyone else were talking and these too would just talk random things together (the one jackels had a white hat on with stacy abraham).And then Misha posted that for jensen's bday We really overlooked it. That shit was too intimate. To close. Fav march baby? U just don't go around and called ur bestie baby and when u mean it deeply. Especially not when ur friend is jensen ackles the "I suffered form internalized homophobia my whole life+ but fuck my wife's an angel and i have an angel bf too and another angel which is his wife but I'd rather die than come out cuz my asshole dad pulled a John winchester on me". It doesn't work like that. But uk how mish is. Carefree and open. I believe they got into a fight bcuz of this. He didn't even like the post. AND that was when the tiny bit of interactions we had was gone too. For a while jensen didn't even liked his posts. After a month it started again.What made me finally believe in that they had grown too+ far: I still remember the night misha posted that he and jensen were going to have a con for gish together. I remember how hard I cried. Lile the whole world was given to me. But deep down in my heart I knew that something would definitely happen. It didn't sit right with me and unfortunately my senses never lie to me. Jensen showed up at the wrong time bcuz of misunderstanding the time zones (this was HILARIOUS). That's not even my point.+ I've seen that interview 3 times so far. It always reminds me of when i saw my ex at a party and we were both so thrilled to see eachother and we still loved the other dearly, but we just couldn't work it out. Jensen and Misha's expressions were EXACTLY the same. The genuine smiles and longs pauses were they just stared at eachother. I'm so happy that it was online cuz if they actually gave that looks to eachother standing right next to the other one I would've collapsed. Misha didn't know that jensen's album+ was out. And he got so embarrassed when he found it out. He didn't know that jensen was on set and hadn't been home for 8weeks. Jensen had no idea where misha was. And this means that they hadn't talked in a long long time.When you're that close with someone for more than a decade, i mean THAT close, even if u're separated from eachother you'd at least check on the once a week, or at least once in two weeks. But it was vividly clear that they hadn't. I hate how this world works. They would always be in my heart.+ I would be thankful from them for everything. It hurts, and it won't stop and im so sure I'd be carrying this pain for a long time. They mean too much to a lot of us. Sometimes I think to myself that god i love them so much. Remember in 2019 when we used to get SO many jenmishdee interactions? That was LIT. It was THEE year for us. I hope they're doing good. I really do. I hope we don't get more proofs and I won't have to update this thread. Cuz my heart won't be taking it very+ well.Something i gotta add U may say that Jensen's busy and that's why he doesn't comment. But he comments on a lot of jared and his new costar's posts. So that's no excuse. So yeah that's it. I don't know what am I supposed to think. english isn't my native language, so sorry for the mistakes

Here is my response:

I don't know who this person who has been talking to is but I have to say they seem to be project their previous relationship experience on cockles.

I believe Jensen and Misha are okay and are together. Social media likes and comments don't mean anything. I mean it's not like Jensen or Misha used to comment on each other's posts before. Jensen didn't even wish Dee Happy Mother's Day this year, does that mean they are not together anymore? Nope. He has other best friends he has known for over 20 years like Jason Manns, Steve Carlson etc that he doesn't wish happy birthday, does that mean they are not friends anymore.

Please let's not put value on social media likes. I don't even follow my own family on sm and I don't always like or comment on my bf's or bff's posts on sm. So it doesn't mean anything.

As for the Gish Panel, I have talked about it before, the time Jensen was slotted to attend the panel, he was meant to answer fan questions. I honestly believe they decided to not do it at that time because they knew the questions would be about Destiel and not their new projects. If you watched that panel, Misha knew that Jensen's album was out as I pointed out. He was just trying to promote the album and soldier boy. He knew Jensen had also buffed out. It was all to promote Jensen. Anything else you hear is trolls and antis just being loud. Also don't forget Jensen called him "babe".

If Jensen and Misha weren't okay, he wouldn't have attended or participated all those panels Misha organized especially for Gish. Danneel also posts a lot about RA and likes Misha's posts. I am 100% Misha visited the Ackles when he went to Colorado last month.

Stop listening to trolls and/or antis or just people who are projecting and look at facts.

#submissions #cockles

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child-of-the-danube · 3 years

Text

Can we please talk about Drag Race España? Cause I have so many emotions.

This season literally ticks all the boxes of what a great reality show is supposed to be while also keeping it healthy.

1. The Queens are all so loveable and talented and each has a unique expression and way of doing drag. All the classics were there: The young fashion queen, the experienced comedy queen, the drag differente queen, the wholesome supportive one, the social media famous one, an old Hollywood glamour pageant type queen etc, yet none of them felt overproduced to fit a category or like they were desperately trying to emulate the image of the US queens, not even Sagittaria who stated she started drag after going to Werq the World and whose name is directly inspired by a US queen (Aquaria). Also, come through 4 non binary queens and an Indigenous queen! We love to see the representation!!!!

2. They were all very "human", if that makes sense, without having to forcibly yank sob stories out of them. When they got emotional it was clear it was the queens' choice to speak on their emotions and not forced trauma porn.

Inti's moment of speaking about body dysmorphia and trans struggles, Killer taking about why she actively chose to always be kind, Pupi talking about how her coming out and doing drag affected her relationship to her family, Dovima letting down her guard, Carmen speaking about her parents, the letter from Hugaceo's brother... It all felt very genuine and important and I love that!

3. Shooketh moment: The judging was fair with maybe two small exceptions. And the judges gave valid constructive critique always followed by immense support and praise. There was no unnecessary bullshit or forcing people to change their signatures. They only asked Vulcano if she will always be on those platforms but it was part of a valid critique and not just the usual of "we've seen your signature now throw it away". In the acting challenge the Javis gave useful critique and advice, even throwing ad lib ideas for the queens in, Supremme tried to give Dovima some ideas when she blanked in the Puppet mini challenge, Ana gave Killer advice about making a better silhouette for herself and as the runways went by you could see Killer was improving, and so on.

That's how you make your contestants feel comfortable and validated. Even Inti who had a somewhat dramatic exit seems to still be very grateful and close to the judges.

The judges were enjoying everything to the maximum. There's so many shots of the Javis and Ana fangirling, all of them hyping up the queens during the lipsyncs, Supremme dancing to the lipsyncs, all of them dying of laughter or crying when things got emotional. They're all so precious!!

And don't even get me started on the guest judges:

Bad Gyal, Paca la Piraña, Alaska, ENVY PERU! Legends!!!

Please invite more winners to the judging panel!!

4. THAT'S HOW YOU ACT AS A HOST!!! Roople take fucking notes. Supremme was so entertaining, loving, kind and supportive. It is so clear she loves both drag in general and the girls so much. Hell, how many times did she cry or almost cry in the span of these 9 episodes? I already said that, but you know damn well Ru would not have handled a situation like the one with Inti with such grace and kindness. He wouldn't even enter the werk room to check on someone if that happened on a season he hosted. Same with Dovima. In a US season they would have made it as if Dovima was ungrateful and a quitter. Here they tried to encourage her to fight and listened to her reasons without shitting on her afterwards.

The final talk with the queens was lovely as well. She didn't try and spit out some spiritual guru bullshit. She let the queens talk and gave advice and support when it was called for. She made it about them and not her.

There was no anger or rudeness or unnecessary harshness towards anyone. Supremme was nothing but kind and supportive to all of them. Her energy and smile are so infectious - a total class act!

5. The rightful winner was chosen. Congratulations Carmen Farala!!!! She also managed to do something everyone is unsuccessfully trying to emulate since Sasha did it with the rose petals - she pulled an unexpected reveal that was relevant and fitting for the song with her wet wig making it impactful. And the fact that she never watched drag race before doing it herself and ended up winning?? That's some proper legend shit. So well deserved!!

And I think a big part of why we ended up with the rightful winner is that DR España didn't adopt the lipsync for the crown format and stuck to the finale format of earlier seasons.

(Small rant and that's just my opinion, nothing more: the lipsync for the crown format invalidates the purpose of the rest of the season as it makes all 4 finalists, who never have the same trajectory and track record, go basically to 0 again. It's circumstantial and not just in the way that someone who happens to be a better lipsyncer with a less fantastic track record will beat someone with a way better performance throughout the show who isn't as good a lipsyncer as them. Sometimes that doesn't even matter and it comes down to song choice. To me, that format makes the rest of the season unnecessary. If it just comes down to the circumstances of lipsyncing, then they might as well just randomly pick 4 queens, shoot just the lipsyncs and call it a day.)

This season entered the holy company of s6, all stars 2 and UK s1 as one of the best seasons of the franchise to ever exist!!

#drag race espana #drag race spain #I tried but I truly cant express just how much I love this season #congratulations to Spain's first drag race superstar miss Carmen Farala #so well deserved #carmen farala #sagittaria #killer queen #pupi poisson #dovima nurmi #hugaceo crujiente #arantxa castilla la mancha #inti #drag vulcano #the macarena #supremme de luxe #ana locking #javier ambrossi #javier calvo

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ashfae · 3 years

Note

i request that u do go on at length about how most of the united kingdom of great britain and northern ireland does not understand chocolate chip cookies. u are welcome.

All right, you asked for it. I will preface by stating I have lived in the US for 23 years and Scotland for 19 years and as such my knowledge and opinions are not so much informed as very mixed up. (see also my spelling)

So. Biscuits and cookies.

The common statement is that in America it's a cookie and in the UK it's a biscuit. This is both true and misleading. Let us define our terms.

Generally speaking, cookies in America are about the size of your palm, usually soft and chewy rather than hard and crunchy. Some will even call them a bit cakelike. (Trivia: the word 'cookie' comes from the Dutch word 'koekje', or 'little cake'.) Sure, there are exceptions, especially if you're making them at home and have added too little flour or butter that's too soft or baked them so long that they've turned into charcoal briquettes. But the best type of cookie has a little bite to it (al dente, like pasta!) and then turns into softness on the inside. Also, they're inevitably sweet. They're best when fresh out of the oven and a smidgen gooey and if you take chocolate chip cookie dough and refrigerate it and then eat it it's divine. Cookies are a dessert.

The UK's biscuits are not cookies. They are smaller, easily half or a third the size of an American cookie. They are definitely crunchy. Also they are not necessarily sweet. It is difficult for me to describe the concept of the digestive biscuit because after almost two decades of living here I still find them to be these bizarre neither sweet nor savoury neutral things that seem pointless and pleasureless. Biscuits are lighter and less dense than cookies and not at all cakelike. They are not a dessert so much as a thing designed to be eaten alongside a hot drink, and also to be dunked into it. The hard crunchiness that at first seems a sad reminder of lost cookies from across the pond is actually very practical as it helps keep the biscuit from falling into your tea/coffee/hot chocolate and becoming a sad mess of soggy crumbs ruining your drink. They are not cookies but they are delightful in their way. They are usually not very satisfying without a hot drink to accompany them, though there are notable exceptions such as custard creams. (Also the chocolate caramel digestive, which transcends all natural laws of biscuits and digestives and has achieved a deliciousness I cannot properly explicate)

As a side note, hot drinks are not an affectation here but a necessity because everything you've ever heard about rainy cold weather in the UK is true and the cold moldy damp seeps into your bones in a way it just doesn't anywhere in the US and there's a reason we're all so religious about our hot drink of choice and getting regular access to it. I still don't like tea and expect the immigration authorities to discover this and kick me out of the country at any time.

So far, fair enough. For the most part the US and UK acknowledge each other's cookie/biscuit differences, and even regard them with affection. There is some overlap. You can find US style cookies in UK supermarkets, and they will be proper cookies, chewy and delicious and not really suitable for dunking. Best of both worlds, yes?

Alas, there are a few catches.

First off, too often when you are offered a chocolate chip cookie, you are not given a cookie. You are given a chocolate chip biscuit. It will be small and hard and have teeny tiny chips and be okay if it's dipped into a hot drink but not really appealing otherwise. This is fine if it's what you expect but sad if what you wanted was a chocolate chip cookie. My theory is that the phrase "chocolate chip cookie" is so ubiquitous that even if in a biscuit assortment everything else is called a biscuit, the chocolate chip thing will be called a cookie despite manifestly not being one.

But second. Second is the difficulty of buying chocolate chips for baking with.

In the US when baking chocolate chip cookies, you get a bag, usually 12oz. My heart belongs to Tollhouse semisweet chips and I bring back several packs every time I'm in the US. These added to a recipe will make a roughly 40 cookies. A 12oz bag is heftyish, not at all hard to lift but awkward enough that you couldn't juggle it easily.

I can only guess that no one in the UK bakes more than six or seven chocolate chip biscuits at a time and no one at all bakes chocolate chip cookies, because for years all I could find were titchy little 100g bags of substandard milk chocolate chips, where the chips were as small and uninteresting as the bag they came in. TITCHY, I tell you. 100g = 3.5oz (roughly), so I'd need four of them to make a US style batch of chocolate chip cookies. There are better ones available now (thank you, Dr. Oekter) with much better chocolate plus the chip size is large enough that you can actually taste it, as opposed to it just ending up as a tiny smudge that once saw chocolate from a distance. The bags still tend to come in only 100g amounts. I've never bothered figuring out how to make a small enough batch of cookies that 100g of chips would be enough, there hardly seems any point. I think they're sold to be used as decorations more than chocolate chip cookie essential ingredients.

There are exceptions, of course, places that sell larger bags of chips for those of us passionately determined to bake chocolate chip cookies as opposed to biscuits (looking at you Lakeland, thanks). But on the whole chocolate chip cookies are not as big a thing in the UK as in the US, and most of the UK does not know what it's missing and thinks small hard chocolate chip biscuits or grocery store made preservative-laden cookies are sufficient, and have never had fresh baked melty chewy chocolate chip cookies with decent chips, and that seems a pity to me. I am amending this where I can, however. My most enthusiastic converts are my in-laws, and I have been known to pay for goods and services with chocolate chip cookies. Fortunately I have an excellent recipe (the Tollhouse one, but with some minor tinkering and a secret ingredient). They are delicious but dangerously addictive, which is excellent for my plan to convert those around me to their service and gradually turn the whole of the UK into my own chocolate chip cookie empire. All hail Ruth Graves Wakefield!

This concludes my babbling about chocolate chip cookies for today. Tune in next time when I'll reveal my other nefarious plan to force the UK to understand and accept pumpkin pie.

#in which I babble #don't say you didn't ask #chocolate chip cookies #damn I really want some now #chocolate caramel digestives are ineffable

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blueeyedgeorgie · 3 years

Text

Scandalous(1)

An infamous Influencer that is known for getting into drama befriends ImAllexx, George doesn’t trust them one bit.

Gif cred. @sdmngifs

Pairing: George Memeulous x Reader

WC: 2.2k+

Pronouns: They/Them

____________

For the entire day, Alex seemed to constantly be on his feet. At first, George really didn't pay much attention to it, after all, sometimes people just have busy days. Usually for George, his days weren't anything special. He'd just wake up and lay around the house. He'd make sure to film a video every couple of days and could be found playing a bit of FIFA or COD.

George didn't have much of a reason to leave his shared flat. He'd usually go over to one of his friend's places to hang out or film a collab, every now and then he'd go out shopping to get a couple of things for a video or just the flat. Still, George wasn't the type of person to find reasons to rush around or try and get as many tasks done as possible, it was one of the many perks that came with being a YouTuber.

It was normal to see Alex running around once in a while. He'd like to go out and do things like playing football with a few of his mates or just going out and being around people. But today seemed different, as though he was planning for something important to happen.

At first, George didn't feel the need to ask his flatmate about what was going on. But while the day rolled on and Alex seemed to only go back and forth from making phone calls to typing away on his computer, George's curiosity had begun to eat himself up from inside.

As the afternoon rolled around, George found himself seated on the couch. He had been wasting a good portion of his day watching whatever he could find on the TV that was actually interesting. Earlier he had filmed a few videos for his second channel, he looked at the Reddit page for usual funny content and then proceeded to go on a Twitter page and look at nostalgic videos and photos for a second video.

Usually with some luck, George would be able to find something good to put on TV, but today just seemed like one of those days where you couldn't find anything good to watch. So as a final resort, he had turned on some Spongebob cartoons, it seemed like he only had enough luck to have the old cartoons from the early 2000's play.

While watching the yellow sponge on TV, George had checked a few of his social medias, wondering if there was anything else that was going on that could possibly hold his attention for longer than ten minutes.

Maybe he just needed a new hobby, something to keep attention for more than five minutes. FIFA was fun, but you could only play it so many times.

"Hey George?"

The sound of his flatmate's voice had pulled him out of his thoughts. Standing behind the couch, Alex was typing away on his iPhone. He had taken a quick look to make eye contact with George before returning to his text messages. Turning around, the brunette man gave his attention to his flatmate, "What's up?"

"I don't know if you remembered, but I'm having someone come out to the UK to spend a couple of days with me to film some collabs and just get to know each other," sliding his phone in his back pocket, Alex shoved his hands into his pockets. "Hopefully this turns out all good."

How did this slip his mind? Alex had been mentioning he was planning to do this with someone for the past couple of weeks. As the days rolled on, when he became busier and busier, it all made sense. Alex was only making sure everything was going to go smoothly when whoever was going to come to the UK.

"Shit, that totally slipped my mind, sorry," George brushed a hand through his hair with a short sigh. "Are they gonna stay with us or are they staying at a hotel? Maybe they're doing something completely different."

"Hotel," as he responded, Alex began to rock back and forth on the heels of his feet. "They're gonna get here in two days and when they show up me and a couple of our friends are gonna go out and get some drinks, just to get more comfortable with one another. You coming with us?"

"I don't see why not," giving a shrug, George leaned his head against the palm of his hand, supporting his head to sit at a certain angle. "Are you interested in this influencer or something, you keep saying you wanna get comfortable with them."

"Well, they aren't really my type. Also, they're gonna be hanging around us for a few days, so of course I wanna be comfortable around them."

"Who even is 'they'? Does this influencer have a name?" George let out another sigh as he looked up at his flatmate.

"They're Y/n L/n."

Y/n L/n, George had heard that name a few times in the influencer world. One thing he knew for sure, Y/n was much bigger than both Alex and George's channels combined. So why was Y/n planning to come and hang around them for a while?

That wasn't the only question rushing through George's mind, from what he had heard about Y/n (which was very little) he knew they were a very scandalous person. Having them around didn't seem like too bright of an idea, maybe Alex just wanted to collab with them to gain a bit more in subscribers... George knew it'd be smart to keep Y/n at arm's length while they'd be in the UK. After all, they'd only be here for a couple of days, so how hard could it be?

"Oh."

"Just 'oh'?" Alex raised a brow at his flatmate, "What is it?"

"Nothing, I just took me a moment to realize who they were," George turned back to face the TV, implying the conversation had come to an end.

"Alright, I'm gonna get back to making sure the flat isn't a typical mess," Alex sighed, taking a step back from the couch.

"Cool," George mumbled as he watching the yellow sponge on TV run beside a pink star.

If Y/n got Alex caught up in anymore drama, he'd have a fit. He had seen his flatmate come so far since the last time drama was in his life. There'd be a chance that would grow bigger and bigger everytime they hung out that Alex could get caught up in a scandal.

Even though Alex's a grown adult, sometimes he could make really stupid decisions. But that was the thing, Alex is a human being, he's allowed to make mistakes. All George wanted for this whole collab to into come back around and bite Alex in the ass. But it was too late, Y/n was going to be here soon and whatever happens, just happens. There wasn't much George could do besides distancing himself away from Y/n.

"Alright, I think I have enough shirts, I better go double-check to see if I have my toiletries all packed up," Y/n had mumbled under their breath in the midst of packing. Even though they were a big YouTuber and could simply pay someone to pack for them, Y/n had decided to pack for this one trip.

"Y/n, where the fuck are you?"

The sound of someone's voice had become louder, Y/n could tell their friend was entering their bedroom.

"I'm just in the bathroom, Bret!" They had responded while looking underneath their bathroom sink for a few more toiletries.

"Are you seriously leaving?" The one and only Bretman Rock stood in the doorway of the bathroom, looking down at his friend.

"Well yeah, I've been planning this trip for the past couple of weeks," Y/n looked up at the makeup influencer. Bretman and Y/n had been friends since forever, they had gone through so much together.

"You're gonna miss James's party next Saturday," he moved aside, letting the other influencer in the room past by.

"It's just one party," they had let out a short scoff while working on packaging their bathroom items properly. "James always throws parties, I'll go to the next one."

"Fine bitch," Bretman had tossed himself onto Y/n's bed, making their suitcase jump a little with everything else that had been laid out on Y/n's bed. "Why are you even going to London?"

"Well, I'm planning to meet up with a friend to make some videos together and just hang out," Y/n shrugged as they tucked away a few more items into their suitcase.

"Who?"

"He goes by ImAllexx on YouTube."

Bretman shook his head as he watched his friend, "I have absolutely never heard of them... ever."

"Yeah, his channel is smaller than either of ours."

"Lemme tell you now, if you're secretly doing some long-distance relationship with him and haven't bothered to tell me any tea yet, I will literally kill you," the raven-haired man laid on his back, beginning to fidget with the rings that sat on his fingers.

"I'm telling you now, Bret. Alex is only a friend, he's like a brother," they tsked at their friend as they zipped up their suitcase, finally finishing packing.

"Fine, but if I find out you end up hooking up with some British boys over there and don't tell me... like I said, you'll be dead bitch."

"Calm down, you know I can't keep secrets from you," Y/n flashed a cheeky grin at their friend while sliding the suitcase off of the bed. "I had two hours before I head to the airport, what do you wanna do?" For the past couple of weeks, Y/n had been counting down the days until they would leave for London. No doubt about it, they were excited. It wasn't often for them to make friends with other Influencers or people in general. So when they got the chance to make friends with a small commentary YouTuber that went by the name of ImAllexx, they had made sure to be as kind as possible.

At this point it was truly hard for Y/n to make friends, most people didn't like them based on the rumors that had spread about Y/n. Others that usually tried to be Y/n's friends were merely using them for money and fame. It became hard for Y/n to trust people and get close to them. So how did Alex pull off gaining Y/n's trust?

Y/n one day had been scrolling through YouTube, looking for something to watch. At this point, they had seen almost everything, vlogs, challenges, makeup, drama, and more. But one video had popped up into Y/n's recommended videos that had caught their eye.

'We Need to Stop Y/n L/n.'

It was normal for Y/n to see these types of videos, usually they'd come from Drama channels trying to cancel them. But this one had come from a YouTuber with the name, 'ImAllexx'. It was normal for Y/n to scroll when they came across these types of videos, but the video seemed a bit intriguing considering the thumbnail was only a simple picture of themself against a blue background. So of course, Y/n clicked on the video only to hear; "Hello everyone, I'm Alex..."

Y/n found the video quite funny, when they'd watch videos made on them, the videos were typically quite harsh and mean. With Alex, he seemed like the type of person to be able to take a joke. His whole video was on an Instagram post Y/n had made a week or two before Alex had posted his video, he had just been taking the piss out of the photo as a joke.

And after finishing that video and having a laugh, Y/n continued to watch more of Alex's videos, just to see if he was seemingly a decent guy. And somehow, they got hooked on Alex's videos. And by the end of the day, they had binged a good amount of his content.

A few days after discovering Alex and his content, Y/n had decided to check out a few of his social medias. That's when Y/n had found out he was already following them on both Instagram and Twitter.

When Alex checked Instagram a while later, he was surprised to find that @y/nl/n was now following him. Y/n was almost four times(if not more) the popularity size of Alex, so how had they noticed him? He was a bit nervous at first, why would someone like Y/n follow him?

Instead of anxiety getting the best of Alex, he had decided to do something to try and figure out why of all people, @y/nl/n had decided to follow him. So he had been careful with sliding into Y/n's DMS, only to ask why they had followed him. ANd moments later, Y/n responded to him.

'I've just been binge-watching your content lately and I thought that you were funny so I followed you. :)'

At first, Alex felt like it could possibly be a trap, but he continued to message back and forth with Y/n. After a while, Alex had realized that maybe Y/n wasn't as scandalous and dramatic as people made them out to be. As the days rolled on and they continued to talk, they had ended up developing a friendship.

After a couple of months of talking and coming closer and closer, Alex had asked if Y/n would want to fly out to the UK from LA to film a couple of collabs and hang out in person. Y/n had easily accepted his invitation, and just like that, A date was set for Y/n to fly out to London.

Taglist: @ivory-raptor @breakfast-cereal @snowcones404 @golden-hoax

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ghostbustermelanieking · 3 years

Note

i'd like to hear some headcanons for your "georgie can see dead people" au! :0

oh thank you so much!! this is probably going to be a little messy, since i haven't actually started the fic, but!! here is something!! :) (also i am so sorry for all the sixth sense references. the actual fic will undoubtedly be worse.)

1. So the basic premise of this AU is that the end result of Georgie's encounter with the End is that, instead of losing her ability to feel fear, she gains the ability to see the dead. Everything goes the same otherwise: the protest, Alex, the dead woman, Georgie waking up days later at home, the months of strangeness and unfeeling. The difference is that when Georgie wakes up, she can see the dead woman, too. Never too close—only in corners, behind doors, in the window. And never always, but only in the moments that feel crucial. The moments where she's searching for something of herself. Her mother hugs her and she sees the dead woman over her mother's shoulder.

Georgie sees Alex, too, sometimes. Closer and more head on; she is always looking back. But she never speaks, and neither does the dead woman from the room. It isn't until she begins to see other ghosts that she realizes they can talk, if they want to. If they choose.

(Six months later is when Georgie figures out how to lock the dead woman out. She stops seeing Alex shortly after, except on occasion. Sometimes she'll see a flash of those familiar eyes in the mirror, over her shoulder, and they always seem to be apologetic. But Alex still never says anything. Georgie gets good at pretending that this doesn't hurt nearly as much as losing her.)

2. Jon is the first one that Georgie almost tells. Almost. They're honest with each other in a way that Georgie usually isn't, when they first meet, and she almost thinks he'd believe her. They talk about ghost stories all the time.

She mostly thinks about it when she sees Jon's ghosts. It isn't often but she sees them. He'll talk about what little he remembers of his parents, or pull out some old, faded pictures, and she'll see the faces reflected in the kitchen, the bathroom mirror, Jon's bedroom. He never talks about the apparition of a strange teenager that appears, once, when they both wake up sweaty from frantic nightmares and he refuses to explain, and Georgie doesn't press. He doesn't tell her about Mr. Spider and she doesn't tell him about the ghosts. Much as they love each other, they do still have secrets.

Georgie goes to his grandmother's funeral years later, even though they're barely talking at this point, and almost tells him then. Seeing him stand mostly alone at the grave, looking monumentally alone, and then a flicker of his grandmother behind him—she almost does. But still she doesn't. She's never told anyone before, and she and Jon aren't really in touch, so she just hugs him and tells him she's so sorry, and doesn't meet the eyes of the woman watching behind the fresh grave.

3. Melanie is another person Georgie almost tells. They still meet through their connections—Ghost Hunt UK, What the Ghost, and Georgie's power is (probably unsurprisingly) very useful for the paranormal podcast business. (All her episodes aren't pulled from real life, from her own experiences—that would be irresponsible, and there's more clout in retelling familiar stories. But sometimes when Georgie runs out of episode ideas, she'll visit a spooky place, write down what she sees, do a deep dive on the history, and fill in the gaps by attributing her sightings to "unnamed" witnesses.) She's met a lot of people in the ghost hunting business, but Melanie stands out, because they hit it off so immediately. Start hanging out outside of work drinks, at parties or pubs or research stints. Melanie starts inviting Georgie to consult on the show, or to collaborate, and Georgie uses what she sees to point Melanie and her team towards real sightings. Why not? Might as well have the horrible power be useful for something. Haley Joel Osment solved his problem by helping people, and this isn't the same at all (and that's a movie, anyways), but it is something.

So she and Melanie become fast friends, faster than Georgie is used to, and Georgie genuinely thinks about telling her. She trusts her, and she doesn't think Melanie would laugh, or call her a liar. (Melanie's got stories about not being believed, too; it's common in the paranormal business.) She thinks Melanie might be the right person, maybe. Just maybe.

(She doesn't end up doing it. She's still a coward when it comes to that. But it isn't because she isn't tempted.)

(The idea to tell Melanie comes before she starts seeing Melanie's father. But that fact doesn't help her decision, either. In quiet moments with Melanie, Georgie starts seeing the man in Melanie's framed photos in the shadows, looking at Melanie with sad eyes, calling her little moth. But Melanie can still barely talk about her dad, and the accident, and it feels even more wrong after he starts showing up, to tell her. Georgie worries Melanie might think she's making fun, or making something up to make her feel better, and she doesn't see this going well.

Instead she says, sometimes, I know your dad loved you a lot. Melanie says, Yeah, I know, too. Georgie says, And I bet he misses you, even though it isn't a bet; she knows. But she can't tell Melanie, and that's as far as it can go.)

4. The most significant time Georgie wants to tell Melanie, but doesn't, is the one she'll end up regretting the most in the end. When Melanie gets out of the hospital, first, and then when she comes back from India; when Georgie is basically the only friend Melanie has left from her old life, and therefore is probably the person Melanie goes to the most. The person Melanie confides in.

So Georgie is there to see it all. She'll be sitting across from Melanie in a pub, or beside her on the couch; she'll brush Melanie's hand with hers, or their knees will knock together, and Georgie will see flashes of blood, violence. Hear screaming. She'll see haunted faces out of the corner of her eyes: soldiers, doctors. Muzzles of guns. Once, a stained hand gripping Melanie around the leg.

She'll regret it, later, but Georgie doesn't say anything; she doesn't know what to say. She's never seen anything like this, even with over a decade of seeing ghosts. How is she supposed to explain it? She doesn't really know what it means. Melanie talks about war ghosts, and Georgie listens, and she rationalizes that Melanie will have to be okay. (She was okay, when it was her, and if—if this is something serious, something worse, than… then Georgie will be there. Melanie will have someone who understands.)

5. One night in February of 2018, Jon shows up back in Georgie's life, looking shell-shocked on her doorstep. He stands in the hall looking mildly terrified, when Georgie opens the door, and behind him stands a dead woman, looking desperate and furious all at once.

"Georgie," Jon says weakly. "I-I know it's been a while, but…"

"Jon! Christ, what happened to you? Are you all right?" Georgie says, trying to take in Jon and the dead woman all at once. (She is new—Jon must have had someone else close to him die.) She focuses on Jon, puts a hand on his shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

"I… I'm fine." Jon's hands twist in front of him. "I… didn't know where else to go."

Georgie swallows hard and says, "Are you in trouble?" The dead woman is looking right at her. Georgie keeps looking at Jon.

"I… yes." Jon chews on his lower lip. "If… I know it's a lot to ask, b-but I… could I… possibly stay here for a little while?"

Georgie swallows hard. She has a dozen questions—what's happened, why he needs somewhere to stay, why he looks like this—he looks like he's been through emotional turmoil, through hell—and worse, why a dead woman has followed him here. But she doesn't know how to ask these questions. And she can't just turn him away. Jon helped her heal during one of the worst periods of her life, even if he doesn't know it. And she can do the same.

"Yeah," Georgie says, and leans forward to pull Jon into a hug—tentative at first, and then stronger, when Jon latches on like he needs it. "Y-yeah, Jon, of course."

Jon rambles out a frantic thank you, layered in with apologies and copious promises to pay rent, but it becomes harder to listen. Right over Jon's shoulder, the dead woman is staring right at her, her mouth hanging open. She's got long hair and glasses, and she looks exhausted, and it isn't immediately obvious how she has died, which is unusual. And she's looking right at Georgie. She says, suddenly, "Can you—can you see me?"

It isn't the first time a ghost has spoken to her, but it's a rare enough occasion to be shocking. Her throat is thick with surprise, and she can't say anything in front of Jon, so she just sort of imperceptibly nods. Holds the dead woman's gaze for a moment.

"Fuck," says the dead woman. "Thank—thank god, thank Christ, I…" She pauses and looks at Jon, then back at Georgie, still numbly hugging Jon there in the hall. "My name is Sasha," she says, and Georgie thinks of the scene in The Sixth Sense where the sick little girl under the blanket asks for help. "Can you… can you help me?"

(send me an au and i'll give you 5+ headcanons)

#*pushes my Sasha and Georgie becomes friends agenda* yeah.... (so this is like the concrete plot points from this au lol. i havent decided #on an ending)#wtgfs #tma fic #sorta #tma au #jon & georgie #i wrote this #georgie barker sees dead people

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years

Note

Goldy,

Kind of off topic, but a little on topic. Have you seen the band Maneskin from Italy? They won 2021 Eurovision Song Contest. Beautiful, beautiful people.

I have no idea of their sexual orientation or preferences, but they wear a lot of makeup on and off stage , and smooch on each other a lot on stage. Nobody bats an eye. They are a Metal band and they dress accordingly. I wish that everyone around the world was as accepting as all their fans are. They are super androgynous as well and they are SEXY as hell

Their charm and sexuality is so fluid and just so natural. They are who they are and they are beautiful and fun to watch. Their comfort with each other is how I wish ALL of us would be

Rock bands rock period

I wonder what they look like in brand ads. I wonder if they are given or are required to have a much tamer look with little to no rings and funky clothing or hoop earrings you can barely see.

Where are the dangly chrome earrings?! WHERE ARE THEY?!🤺

I like my BTS the way they are. It's what I bought in. I want to see men in corsets, waist snatched, dark eyeliners selling alcohol to men. Is that too much to ask?! Is it?!😒

This is what happens when they treat queerness as aesthetics and have no qualms drawing on- if not appropriate- gay culture and lifestyle. Y'all just ditch it for your hyper heteromasculinity whenever y'all want😒

Their ability to divorce themselves completly from certain looks at certain times is what gives me whiplash. When that happens, it creates the impression queerness is just a look, gender fluidity is not real and establishes traditional definitions of masculinity as the norm. You do not have to 'look like a man' to sell alcohol 🤺

I was literally waiting for this Kloud, Klout beer ad to drop ever since Winter Package at the end of last year because we all know what most people think about Alcohol and men. I was curious to how how BTS would market to men as compared to women and teens. I feel there is so much room for them to break norms and set new trends in the advertising world. I'm disappointed so far.

For contrast, look at how they look selling a nonachoholic beverage as compared to how they look selling alcohol. Can I weep? Can I?! See how they look like they just stepped off a set for a music video? They look like themselves. Their everyday selves but you look on your left and it's like huh??????

And in case the message and intent is not clear, here is a photo of different models modeling for the same brand.

Their girls look like "girls" and their boys look like "boys." I'd say BTS in those ads look much more similar to the male model here in terms of looks- that clear cut box labeled men- which to me is a problem.

I'm sorry but this is just lazy advertisement. Nothing at all ground breaking. The models look great. Taehyung looks tasty, heteromasculine and perfect.

I feel used to male oriented brands breaking boundaries and participating in the gender discourse in recent times I think my expectations for BTS on this topic in advertisement was this high.

If heteromasculinity is all y'all can tap into to sell a can of drink I'm sorry but that's misogynistic and sexist and homophobic.

If Jimin or any of these boys come out a few years down the lane in another documentary to say these kinds of shit affected them in any way I AM STARTING WORLD WAR III.

I'm tired of seeing Jimin and other Asian men be emasculated and treated as if they aren't men enough just because they look to them 'feminine.' You don't have to fix their masculinity or tweak it to suit your idea and ideals of masculinity. There's no one way of being man.

Don't get me started on the desexualization of Asian men and it's subsequent effects on Asian men. You hear Asian men are not sexy, they do not sell the fantasy, they are not this, they are not that blah blah blah and yet we sit here and wonder why someone like JK, who had probably internalized that shit, would say he wants to be seen as sexy too and perform sexy choreos and shit.

And no, it's not an American Asian problem, it's a global Asian problem. BTS are on the world's stage being socialized by the global community and they do face almost every microaggression prevalent within the regional communities. It's the American's take on them, Canada, UK, Africa, Asia, Europe, all of them. Everyone is projecting on to them their ideals and understanding of gender and who they should be. Did we not see BTS BIOT trending from the Philippines lately? Gay because WHY???? They wear make up and earrings and love androgynous?

Naa, I'm actually getting gassed the more I think about it🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺

The notion that Asians aren't sexy sits on the opposite end of 'Asians are too soft and good looking they are not masculine' all on the something is inherently wrong with Asian men spectrum.

I keep saying Jikook are the two members who've faced and have perhaps had to defend their masculinities the most- from BTS themselves effeminating JK and always bringing his masculinity to question- you know they once said JK is the most feminine within the group? I think so too but that's besides the point chilee.

Then for Jimin, he's always been either over feminized or defeminized, masculated and treated as if his femininity is wrong and invalid. Didn't a certain Karmy call him a fake woman or something like that? It's almost the same microaggressions transfems and gay men steroetyped as bottoms recieve on a dialy basis in this shit hole we call planet. It's all so ghetto.

Ass holes like to masculate and invalidate fems and masculine femininity, it's appalling. And people like to gaslight and pretend these microaggressions cannot have Freudian effects on these people- he is too strong to be bullied, oh he worked so hard on himself he can't crack so easily, oh it's nothing they're just being sensitive, it was joke, they're reading too much into it, and my personal favorite- y'all are over analyzing when you point it out😌

Some people are legit serial gaslighters, they will gaslight you before you can say the Jay in Jesus.

As a black woman growing up in a community that view black women as strong and incapable of being mentally attacked and traumatized by certain experiences- black people don't get depression or mental health issues because they are black and they are strong- being masculated and defeminized on a dialy basis, I tell you- shit is torture.

All of this, and we sit here and wonder why Jimin wants to go to the gym and build muscles and blend in with the boys etc. Could be nothing, could be a response to the over feminization of Jimin, the emasculation or it could be he is internalizing some things. We will never know.

Personally, I feel JM is on the precipice of something and may be its something, may be its nothing but imma put my foot on these companies' neck and keep it there 🤓

Because it's not just about Jimin. It's about all the people who look up to him. All the people he has influence over. For every queer child who sees themselves in him and these men.

Any who. I think I've said everything I want to say on this topic. The weight on my chest is lifted. Asian men are sexy, their masculinity is VALID. Queer masculinity is valid too and they need to be inclusive of it. If you don't wanna include it leave BTS as they are. We get the representation as they are. Don't tweak them in y'all's brand campaigns. Don't fix Jimin's Jawline and make it more chiseled. HE IS PERFECT THE WAY HE IS.

Now please, let's talk about BigHit and the recent shipping agendas.😐

Signed,

GOLDY

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mxrcayong · 3 years

Text

part of @nct-writers’s cafe resonance collab!

genre: fluff, a more UK-based pov of university

summary: jisung, a college student now looking for a job, has decided to apply for a job at the local café. he thought being friends with the manager and its employees has it perks; from unlimited free coffee to whatever pastries haven’t been eaten by the end of the day. needless to say; the perks must end somewhere.

word count: 2317 words

note: i didn’t make the divider!!

College students practically live by coffee shops. If university was a religion, the on-campus coffee shop would be the bible. Daily, college students’ breath in the coffee beans like oxygen, feel the permanent imprint of coffee mug or a ‘to go’ cup on their lips. They’re surrounded by the smells of different fruity pastries and savory snacks, and the sounds of students either chatting or typing away on their computers.

It’s no wonder that the university coffee shop was practically a hub of activity. When you sit down to work at Café Resonance, it’s feels like you’re a part of a bigger and collective community, stressing for assessments or just taking a break from their hectic university schedules. It’s especially hectic when you’re a full-time student and work part time.

“Do I really need to get a job?” Jisung sighed, scratching his head as he leant against the barista’s counter. His six closest friends were working behind the counter: using the coffee machines and decorating the pastries. “Can’t I just use your employee discount on everything?”

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows. “You know I want to, my little mouse.” He teased as he placed another order on his tray, “But I can only put the café employee discount on so many things.” He practically sung as he left, heading to a table to bring another set of students their own cups of their own ambrosia.

From the cash register, Haechan had just finished taking the orders of the last bunch of the line and immediately replaced Jaemin’s place next to Jisung. “You can always just become a sugar baby.” He suggested, coming over to the display case to grab one of the pastries to heat up per the customer’s order. “Or a pole dancer… aren’t you a good dancer?”

Jisung immediately protested. “Firstly, no. Secondly, is it even legal? I literally only became an adult this year.”

“Actually…” Haechan started to counter, only to be interrupted by Mark approaching with a raised hand and a dirty mop.

“Stop telling everyone to become a sugar baby.” Mark chided as he ducked to get back behind the counter, drudging the cleaning supplies with him. “You do realize that if someone does become a sugar baby, they aren’t entitled to paying for your shit either.” In response, Haechan grumbled under his breath as he gave the bewildered customer overhearing the odd conversation their fruity treat.

Jisung has visited his closest friends enough to know that working at the café is like a beautifully choreographed dance. It moves like clockwork; with the six doing their roles diligently and without question. So, it’s not unusual for his friends to come and go during the conversation – all taking part whilst separating themselves at the same time.

“Why don’t you just ask Chenle if you could work here?” Renjun suggested, coming out from the back room where he started baking some more pastries – obvious through his powdered apron. “We all work here already, and we can go through the ropes with you.”

Jeno immediately stepped in and basically rejected the offer. “Do you remember the last time we hosted an event and Jisung wanted to help?” He prompted, before chuckling. “He tried to wash the food with dish soap…and he broke the broom when cleaning!”

Almost as if the thought of teasing Jisung summons him, Chenle came out of seemingly nowhere. “Didn’t he leave the broken broom on the floor and just started playing video games?” Jeno, Haechan, and Renjun nodded – remembering the mess the 00-line apartment was that night.

“Not the best party we hosted.” Jaemin commented, going around the counter to make his own drink now that the list of waiting customers is gone. “But, still, Jisung learns fast. I think he could work here.”

Chenle let out an introspective hum, before leaning over to whisper to Haechan. With a questionable look on their faces, Chenle decided to call Jisung into the back room and in his makeshift ‘managers office’ (a perk of being family with the owner of the university café). “I’ll consider your application, but I can’t do any nepotism.” He started, “so, you must go through the whole application process.” He paused. “You must come up with your own recipe.”

With a rule to not discuss recipes with his ‘potential future co-workers’ – which Chenle weirdly specified as everyone but Haechan, Jisung had to get straight to work. In all honesty, he had no baking experience nor ever made a drink without a guiding recipe.

While his six closest friends were out of the equation, he had another friend he could reach out to; Y/N.

You were in his freshmen orientation group earlier this year. Not going to lie, you initially thought of each other as familiar faces who you’d occasionally wave at or nod in acknowledgement when you walk past each other. However, you later found yourself eating in the same hall cafeteria…and then the same hall pantry…and then, it clicked. You two lived only four doors away from each other in your university hall.

Needless to say, you two ran midnight McDonald trips basically on a weekly basis. You became integral to Jisung’s daily routine; from waking each other up for breakfast to storming into each other rooms, armed with complaints and rants about the shitty professor who made you read 300 pages for one night. Even on your busiest days, you two would always pick each other up for the hall provided breakfasts and dinners.

So here you were - Jisung was slouching down on your desk chair while you were resting on the bed, your back against the wall and a pillow in your lap as you tried to help Jisung solve his current problem. “Well…did Chenle give you a prompt or anything?”

Jisung shook his head, groaning back. “It’s not like we have a kitchen to try and bake either! We only have fridges and a microwave and a….” He tried to recall what was on the floor pantry.

“Just a fridge and a microwave.” You added. “That means pastries are off the table…how about a drink?”

Jisung groaned again. “I have a hard time making pre-made coffee!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle; you remembered that day. It was a scary time for you; your credit card company sent you a text about a fraudulent use of your student account. Not only did you end up stressing to the point of crying, but you also learned it was a false alarm. Luckily, while still reeling from the anxiety inducing news, you ran into Jisung as he was leaving his room. He then took you to the pantry to try and cheer you up with coffee…however, a fire alarm went off and practically deafened the whole university housing cohort for hours.

And poor Jisung…Jisung was just an awkward little mouse, trying to look innocent as he saw his exhausted neighbors clamber out into the park due to his attempt of making pre-made coffee.

“Well…you have me. This isn’t hopeless.” Climbing off the bed, you pretended to dust yourself off. “So, let’s go to the pantry? Another one of our…”

Jisung quickly furrowed his brows, interjecting while you still spoke “I don’t think this can be considered snacking…”

“Pantry-time dates.” You stuttered, obviously unsure of the title. Usually, you call them ‘cup noodle dates’ or ‘popcorn dates’; a joke that ran through your small group of friends as well as the resident advisors at the university hall.

No one likes being in the pantry. Especially the second floor. For one, things always get stolen; from cutlery to a six pack of coke. Secondly, the few times people use the microwave to heat up their meals, they tend to leave the leftovers to rot on the windowsill. But you and Jisung sit there together; maybe because something about it feels open and comfortable, despite the terrible smell. Plus…the two of you placed bets on who could be the thief when people awkwardly clamber on by, and if on one of these ‘dates’ you catch the thief obviously taking something that isn’t theirs? Even better.

But today… you two will have to be the forsaken thieves.

“So someone put chocolate powder in the fridge…” You commented incredulously, especially as this fridge is known for freezing things into ice in minutes. “There’s some…expired milk.” Jisung watched as you searched through the fridge for any hidden treasures; feeling more and more unsure of himself as you listed more and more ingredients. “Oh, okay, some non-expired milk. That will be useful.”

“We can make a latte?” Jisung offered, now on his phone searching up popular café drinks.

“Yes!” You enthused, finally feeling like this trip to the pantry isn’t useless after all. “But…we should probably write an apology note to the people we’re stealing from.”

It’s been almost five hours in the pantry. Countless of people came in (however, this time you tried not to place bets as you knew who the real thieves were tonight) and would just stare at the two of you, arguing over a kettle of milk. Even your neighbor Victor came in; having sat and watched you two for a good while (which made Jisung extra cautious; he’s had a theory about him being the forsaken pantry thief for a while). Victor, however, said you two should have a cooking show, to which you scoffed while Jisung basked in the compliment. This very same compliment crossed Victor off of Jisung’s “potential criminals” list.

Eventually, you had a drink in front of you. A chocolate latte that Jisung insisted on putting salt in, as “Modern Family said it was a good idea”. Admittedly, the first ten versions of this drink were absolute failures; making you go to the bathroom numerous times to vomit out the thick and almost flour-like texture.

So, for your final check, the two of you grabbed the non-eaten pastries Jisung brought home from the café. Hopefully, this will act as a palette cleanser; especially since tasting all of the failed drinks probably have messed with your taste buds and lowered all sorts of expectations.

After taking bites into the Suh-ndwitch and Henpretzel, you two finally took sips of the drink you attempted to make since 10pm – with Jisung making far too many references to the Powerpuff Girls opening theme.

Alas – the taste that flooded their senses wasn’t at all bad, no. Nor was it ‘a little bit of sugar and everything ice’, but it was something you’d expect from Starbucks. You two immediately squealed out of excitement, ignoring the fact that you probably woke the neighboring rooms up at three in the morning. Jisung immediately went over to hug your waist, spinning you around as fast as he could; before something unexpected happens.

You felt his lips on yours; tasting like chocolate and leftover ingredients that were remnants from his palette cleanser of a sandwich. The feeling was foreign; you never expected to kiss Jisung. He was your best friend, your neighbour; but his lips were soft…and something about this felt right.

But then the door slammed opened. A zombie-like RA came in and you two immediately jumped to different sides of the room. “I know you two always do your pantry dates, but…” The RA started, obviously sluggish from being woken up at 3am. “We got noise complaints.”

Jisung awkwardly coughed, apologized, and ran away; leaving you confused in the corner of the pantry.

Café Resonance were never busy Friday evenings. People were most likely out pubbing or preparing for their weekends of antics. So when Jisung stormed in with a recipe in hand, he wasn’t afraid to celebrate as loudly as if he had just won the Olympic World Cup. “I got the recipe! Can I please have the job?” He practically pleaded, dropping the piece of paper with messy handwriting and the sample drink you two whipped up again the night prior. On top of the page with chocolate colored stains were the words; “Hamji Choco Latte” with (served hot or cold) at the bottom.

“A recipe?” Everyone but Haechan and Chenle looked confused; with the latter two smirking in the corner of the room. But as soon as Haechan cracked and let out a loud laugh, Mark turned around and immediately recognized the culprits of this misunderstanding.

“Bruh,” Chenle let out throughout his charming ‘dolphin laugh’, “You had the job – I was just messing with you.”

Haechan pouted, approaching Jisung to ruffle his hair. “My sweet, small, dumb idiot…how much I love you.” He placed a sloppy kiss at the corner of his head, making Jisung immediately try to scrub it off.

Jisung scowled, upset he let himself get fooled by his best friends. “At least I got a girlfriend from it…” He mumbled, more to himself, but forgetful of how Jeno’s ears can pick up on anything. It was from my ASMR stint, Jeno would say.

“WHAT!?” He exclaimed, as if Jisung getting a girlfriend would happen the day pigs would fly.

“I sent you to make a café recipe, not a love potion!” Chenle cackled even more; while his fellow friends made him explain what happened.

By the time the store closed, Jaemin gave Jisung the ‘talk’ and warned that although they spent nights in each other’s rooms before, Jisung and you must be ‘safe’ and ‘protected’.

People always say the first people you become friends with at university don’t always stay friends for life. People tend to clash, find their hobbies, and go different ways. But Jisung was lucky. He met you; his best friend and now his other half. And despite the annoying prank Chenle made that wasted hours of your time, Chenle was right; the Hamji Choco Latte was basically a love potion as it brought the hidden infatuation you had for each other to light.

Now, every time he picks you up from your lecture hall, he brings one extra-large chocolatey drink to share.

“Email sent out to residents of NCU Hall:

Dear residents of the second floor,

The person who has been stealing cultlery and food has been identified. Victor Cho will be coming by to return any items that may have belonged to you.”

Jisung screamed at the top of his lungs when he got this email. “I TOLD YOU SO!”

#nct-writers #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jisung fluff #jisung scenarios #jisung imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream #nct #nct scenarios #jisung drabbles #nct dream drabbles #nct drabbles

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alldayangst · 4 years

Text

gold rush (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift. Everybody wants Tom, but you don’t like a gold rush. WC: 2.7K words.

“Y/N, I just wanted to say again, thank you for coming in today and doing this for us.” Tom’s dad, Dominic, said as he displaced papers across desks, earl grey swaying like an angry lake in his mug. Approaching footsteps hinted that the star of the show was soon to be hold. In other words, Tom was running behind.

The door creaked and light from the corridor crept through like Sun peeping through curtains of the Night. It refusing to shut after Tom budged and pushed was maybe divine punishment for him being so late, and maybe provided the bit of laughter you needed after rolling out of bed at 6am for this, for him. When the door eventually did close, Tom turned around and saw you in all your glory; much taller than he remembered, more assured than he’d imagined, and more gorgeous than drowned out and half forgotten memories of you could ever fabricate.

You and Tom ran in the same social circles, but hadn’t seen each other since Tom’s career imploded when you were both nineteen. As much as Tom felt he owed his heart and soul to the UK, he maintained an almost permanent fixture on the States. It started to feel like his trips back to England were in fact actual holiday. At one point, you were in love with Tom, but meeting became a constant battle of ‘here, not there’ and your heart grew tired of the duck and goose chase. The gravity of the situation was too much for you, whom hadn’t even tasted their twenties yet.

“Y/N!” Tom launched at you and held you in tight embrace. You let go of the hug, but he didn’t. And his dad watched on in momentary awe as you wrapped your arms around Tom once again, who breathed in every part of you with unwavering adoration.

“Tom!” You rubbed along his back as he hummed. “When I was told we were gonna have a ghost writer, I had no idea it was gonna be you.”

Tom and his dad (being an author) were collaborating on a book, a million dollar idea that’d been years in the making. Tom had stalled it, his dad told you out of simple insecurity. Now that the world was a stage, he was worried people would criticise his dyslexia with every line he wrote, that every stroke of his pen would reveal him as a rare type of monster that lacked intellect, he pondered that he wasn’t insightful enough in some way. His dad may have written a book about Tom outfaming him, but Tom felt like he’d always live in Dom’s shadow in this respect. Fresh from Oxford with an English Bachelor’s degree, Dom employed you to get grease on the gears to commence writing. Tom had always come out of his shell when you were around.

Your writing session lasted from 8 til noon, when Tom had promo with LadBible or Entertainment Weekly or whoever had bid the highest from his presence that day.

The door swung open and three men in all black and mics saddled around their waists called for and led Tom out of the room.

“Tom, session’s over. We need to get you to your BBC promo in 30 and we’re already running behind schedule.’ One cloaked Tom in a jacket you were sure was more expensive than your own home and another whispered something into a walkie talkie: “Holland is on the move. Check the back entrance is clear.” With that, Tom rose to his feet and left completely opposite of the way you came in. Without a word, no goodbye.

You and Dom left the building together around ten minutes later, where ten men with large cameras stood, lenses focused on you, glaring at you, not sure what to make of you. One of the men screams “Hey! You dating Tom Holland” and after that all you hear is clicks and all you see is bright flashing lights and Dom clenches your hand and leads you to your taxi cab.

The next time you see Tom is sooner than expected. The Hollands were hosting a last minute dinner party and you found yourself sitting opposite Tom, feeling his hard, hot and heavy gaze on you. The tension in the room was so thick not even a chainsaw cut through.

“Next topic,” You picked up a card from the deck and read it aloud. “Politics!” You said devilishly as you sip on what was left of the white wine in your cup, and now that your thought process is blurred; Tom’s longing gaze puts you at dismay.

“Fuck!” Harry exploded, and you hear their mother hiss. “Fuck I hate politics, there’s no making it out alive!” he remarked as he drummed on the table cloth, drunken excitement brewing a new energy in the room.

You go on like this for hours until dinner party is dinner party no more. And while Dom, Nikki and all of Tom’s siblings have chosen to exit stage left, it’s 1am and you and Tom have yet to leave the scene.

Tom sets down your deck of debate cards in favour of a genuine moment.

“What are you doing these days, Y/N?” Tom’s not looking at you, he’s looking at your knee as he rubs circles on it. You want to look down there too, see what he finds so intriguing; but you decide against it in fear you might spontaneously combust. You don’t know if this moment’s supposed to be intimate or innocent and you’re not sure if you want to find out.

So you put up a wall.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Holland.” You say sarcastically. “What have you been doing these days? I haven’t seen you around.” Your eyebrows scrunched up together but you’ve got a big, idiot grin on your face that’s more than telling. Tom giggles at your facetiousness.

Tom scratches his head in mock thought. He never clocks out, always putting on a show. “I don’t know - uh.” You’re laughing before Tom has even told the punchline, ‘cause I guess anything’s funny when it’s said by the one you love.”I’m kind of -” He snatches an old Spiderman comic off the floor. “I’m kinda doing this acting thing at the moment. Playing, y’know, this guy.”

“Well I wish you better luck in the future.” Tom has stopped rubbing circles but instead places his two hands on your knees as you rock back in laughter.

“I’m serious, Y/N. What do you do now?”

“Um.” You suddenly forgot your entire career as Tom, with no shade of subtlety, stares right into your soul. “I got my degree. I write like little stories, y’know? Have you ever heard of folklore?”

Tom shook his head.

“They’re like these little, old beautiful myths. And I write them for a living. And if I’m lucky, they get published in The Times. If I’m even luckier, I get to work with my old best friend - ” You feel your world stop temporarily as you call Tom your ‘best friend’ and you pause for all of 0.3 seconds to register Tom’s reaction but his face doesn’t flinch. “-Writing a book with him and his dad.” And that makes Tom smile. So he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you, you just know.

‘Undivided appearance’ and ‘undivided attention’ don’t necessarily mean the same thing in Hollywood as they do in real life, and you learn that the hard way in your writing session.

Tom may have been sat right next to you, but he was miles away. He was doing press with Cosmo, who hadn’t stopped tagging him with blue hearts on his Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat stories, causing his phone to go off every two seconds. You looked at the phone and then at him who then got the hint and put it on silent. Then there was a knock on the door. Tom rushed to open it, expecting that Dom had sent down a food delivery to egg you on finishing this chapter. You rehashed his childhood like a million times - in fact, you were part of it - so when it came to writing the parts that hurt, where you took a more supporting role in his life, you needed his help. The fact is, the knock at the door had come from one of Tom’s men (Tom liked to call him Man In Black no. 3) who hadn’t said as much as a ‘hi’ before he made his announcement. “Tom, you’re on the line with Cosmo in 10.” The man stepped back and pulled out his walkie talkie, “Holland knows he’s on the line with Cosmo at 10.” And then continued to pace around the hallway.

Cosmo called as he said they would and you almost felt for. second like tom might enjoy an entertainment magazine’s company more than yours. The interviewer made glaring comments and passive flirts at Tom who just blushed and chuckled and sipped his water like the woman on the phone calling him ‘hot’ was just too much to handle. At one point, she says: “What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, Tom? With your hair falling into place like dominoes.” You’re not expecting it when Tom tilts the phone so you’re in view. “Well I’m with the most beautiful being on Earth right now so..” Tom looks at you as if to ask ‘is this okay?” and you know it’s too late for these kind of questions, because that moment is headline fodder, so you smile not to make him feel bad for opening Pandora’s box. But Tom is merciless and likes to rub salt in the wound. “This is Y/N! Y/N’s helping me write the book with my Dad! We go way back.” He covers his mouth as soon as he says it. “Shit! They’re not supposed to know about the book yet.”

This is the moment, you think, where you believe when they say your first love is the one you never let go.

And you can’t think of anything purer than the love you have for him.

Tom thinks being on land is boring. He likes being strung from chords 30 feet in the air, and drowning in despair through scenes of emotional turmoil. You want to tell him you’re an arrow from Cupid’s bow about to reach him, but you couldn’t recover from the splinters if Tom shut you down. After all, Tom was a gold rush. A treasure that everyone had discovered but nobody owned. How precious is a jewel that anybody could take home with them?

Tom had invited you to a visit to Brighton with him, a city near the coast, for some inspiration on writing his section of the book.

You accepted. And because you did, you found yourself at the beginning of the end, on Tom’s boat in Brighton. “We don’t have to talk about the book right now.” Tom throws a stack of blue tinted paper on the floor. His dyslexia meant that spelling and reading was so much easier when done on blue pages, and you could only guess that was the reason the body of water around you brought him so much peace. So when you saw that something might compromise your best boy’s happiness, you point it out. To give Tom a little bit of time to exit before things got ugly.

“Tom, I see someone in the bushes.”

“Yeah. It’s a pap.” Tom mumbled nonchalantly.

“They’re here to get pictures of me,” He turned to face you. “and you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the fans ship us. Think we’d be a good couple after that Cosmo stunt. We would have been a good couple when we were like, 18.” He laughs.

“Huh, yeah.” You look down.

“The best one around.” And you can’t tell if he’s serious.

You rip off one of his blue sheets. “I’m coming. I got hit with inspo.” And you trail to a different section of the boat. A very obvious click of the camera from a shrub nearby coaxes your pen to write without a second thought, How is he so accustomed to this? Fake private moments, protected by sheer glass curtains?

You scrunched your paper, well his paper, into a ball.

Your mind had turned his life into folklore. You weren’t sure if that was crossing a line, so you just put the ball into your bag and hide it until he hits you with the spark again.

“Let me see it.” Tom says.

“No.”

“You ran off to write it and won’t let me see it?”

You held your bag at your hip in defence. “No, Tom. Drop it.”

Tom’s face drops a little bit, but then he reaches into his own bag and reveals a deck of your debate cards. “I know what will cheer you up, good ol’ Y/N.” He sets a card on the wooden table between you two.

“Do you believe in a higher power?”

You toyed with the pendant around your neck which revealed your faith. “Do you?”

“I don’t. But I believe in soulmates.”

You look to the left to really ponder on what Tom is saying, and a paparazzis captures another photo of you in the corner of your eye.

“And you don’t think there’s a higher power that manufactures our souls to make our soulmates?”

Tom feigns a scowl. “That’s ridiculous.”

You scoffed. “How very contrarian of you.”

“What the fuck does that mean.”

“It means you contradict yourself, Thomas.” You laugh as he holds his chest in fake hurt.

“Are you implying I’m anything less than perfect?”

“Never.”

Never. Because you didn’t believe that to be true.

“Good. Cause you’d have to be punished.” Tom picks you up and throws you in the water below before jumping in with you.

On your way home you stop at the yours and Tom’s writing booth, scavenging through your bag to drop off Tom’s notepad, some scrunched up blue and white papers you and Tom thought could still help you write his book. You’d made an addition to your love-hazed scribblings about Tom and reckon you’d die if he found it. You managed to throw the other in the water, excusing yourself with “It’s utterly awful.”, to which you and Tom agreed you wouldn’t throw any more paper in the ocean cause the poor fish already had it hard enough.

You and Tom had a session the next day. Tom was excited for the day, and you could tell because he’d given his phone to one of his big babysitters for the time he had you.

“I think that’s all of yours.” You and Tom made a business out of unscrunching your paper balls to see if they had any useful ideas. You were certain you reached the end of Tom’s. All of his notes had ‘T.H’ written on the back in big and were scribed on blue paper. When it came to your little ‘secret admirer’ notes you weren’t worried - you had an English degree and were quick to think on your feet and was ready to make something up when it came to opening it.

“No, this one’s mine.” He’s confident, so you let him have it. He goes to pick up your tea and then realises it’s nowhere near warm, and was the one you made for yourself when you crept in yesterday evening. Tom has a smile on his face, and then he doesn’t. Before he goes to read it aloud, his eyes tell you he’s reading it again and again and again. “At dinner parties, I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit, and the coastal towns we wondered round will never see a love as pure as it.”

The look on Tom’s face gives you the splinters. He tries to look at you but you know he can’t. You don’t blame him. You can’t look at him either. “I really thought this was a good friendship.”

You hum and nod your head in agreement, pull your lips into a thin straight line as streaks of tears abandon your eyes. This was worse than Tom rubbing salt in your wounds. He’s rubbing dirt in your painful fucking gashes and you are reminded of why this didn’t work before, why it will never be.

And you wouldn’t dare to dream about him anymore.

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theasstour · 4 years

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𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟐𝟎.𝟐𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

A/N: Thank you so incredibly much to each one of you angels who voted for ST in the 1D Craft Awards 🥺 You continue to take my breath away with all your kindness, support and love 🐚🌊✨ ENJOYYY CHAPTER 7! x

Saturday, 25 July

The phone vibrated against the wooden table, jolting Y/N out of her focus. She blinked a few times, looking over at Fatima who turned the timer off and looked at Y/N with expectant eyes. Y/N shook her head and Fatima’s face visibly fell.

“What you mean?”

“I didn’t finish, did I?” Y/N groaned, running her hands over her face, hiding it from view for a few seconds before she sat back in her chair and looked at her laptop in front of her. The two were sitting at Olive’s Café on Island Square, seated on lime green chairs outside, the morning sun beating down on them as each of them tried to do work; Fatima looking through the curriculum she was going to teach this coming year, and Y/N doing her UCAT work. Fatima was a teacher for fourth graders, so she knew how to make things easy to understand, how to pull things apart and study properly. When Fatima had suggested that the two of them take a day together to just study, Y/N had jumped at the opportunity. Now, they had met to do exactly this a few days in a row and Y/N was really starting to feel the effects.

The thought of the UCAT exam coming closer and closer made her want to hurl. September 10th didn’t seem that far away anymore, something that absolutely terrified Y/N. Not only did she need to be out of St Ives by then, leaving her entire life and friends here behind, but she didn’t know where she’d even be. Would she even have enough money? Would she still be in Cornwall? Would she have crawled with her tail between her legs back to Winchester, asking for forgiveness for leaving them all behind?

Fatima pursed her lips, tapping her pen against the top of Y/N’s laptop. “Is it ‘cause you’re stressing too much?”

“Probs.”

“It’s hard not to when it’s important to you.”

Y/N sighed heavily, nodding her head in agreement. “This practice exam… well, it was hard.”

“They usually are, the practice exams,” Fatima explained. “Not necessarily so to scare you, more so that you’ll be aware that this will be hard, but the actual exam isn’t that bad. They never are.”

Y/N gave Fatima a little smile. “Taken the UCAT before?”

“Obvs, I’m the smartest bitch in all of the UK, if not Europe.”

Y/N laughed, quickly sighing again as she looked down at her laptop again. This was the first practice exam she had ever taken; Fatima had timed her to see if she’d make it in the estimated time it took to complete the UCAT, but Y/N hadn’t managed to. She supposed she still had a lot of time to study and prepare herself, but it still made her feel like all her studying had been for absolutely nothing. One failure, even if it didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things, always seemed like the most important thing in the world. How had the world not shifted? How was not everyone around her crying like she felt she should be doing?

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Y/N. I promise you’ll be fine.”

She nodded, knowing deep down that Fatima was right. The universe would balance itself out eventually, everything would be alright in the end even if her current world was crumbling right before her eyes. Maybe she was just being dramatic, maybe it wasn’t that deep and she had just not been focused enough, but Y/N felt like giving up now.

“When I feel like I’m failing at life,” Fatima started, sitting up a bit straighter in her seat. “I pick up a pillow and I just scream into it.”

Y/N blinked.

Fatima grinned.

“You just scream? How?”

“Just like you’d normally scream,” Fatima chuckled, demonstrating by pretending to pick up a pillow, burying her face in it, and silently screaming. “And after that, I feel better.”

“Like a proper scream?”

“Like you’re being chased down the street by a man in a clown costume holding an axe.”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head some. “I’ll do that when I get back to the Inn. Immediately.”

Fatima laughed just as someone came up beside them, asking the man sitting beside them if the chair opposite him was taken. When the tiny, short-haired blonde sat down beside them, she beamed from ear to ear. There was something about Ellie’s presence that just made everything better. She was so round, so small, so joyous all the time that it felt wrong to be in a sulky mood when she was around.

“I heard you’re studying,” Ellie said, perching her yellow sunglasses on the top of her head. “And by the looks of it-“ Ellie mimicked what Fatima had just done with the scream. “-It’s not going so well.”

“Y/N’s studying for that dentist test and she tried one of them practice exams, didn’t go so well.”

“Aww.” Ellie pouted. “I’ll buy you a cupcake to cheer you up. I always eat tons when I’m sad, especially sweets. Especially, especially cupcakes.”

“Thanks for the offer, but-“

“-Ima, you want a cupcake as well?” Ellie put her purse down on her chair as she got up, holding onto her card. “Or a new iced latte?”

Fatima brought a hand to her chin, pretending to think about it, making exaggerated thinking noises till Ellie blurted a “today!” that made Fatima chuckle and say, “Both please, babe.”

Ellie smiled. “Girls, you know what I think we should do after this?” She waited for a few seconds for either of them to say something, but when they didn’t Ellie went on. “Go to the beach! You can’t be sad when you’re at the beach! We’ll sunbathe, have a bit of a swim, and then go for a Cheeky V at the pub after.”

Fatima smiled a little, looking at Y/N to see if she’d be into that.

Though all Y/N wanted to do was go back to the Inn and scream into her pillow, she smiled up at Ellie. “Yeah, why not? Have a bit of a girls day.”

“Oh, my gosh, that’s exactly what it is as well,” Ellie gasped, grinning from ear to ear. “BRB, ladies, I’m getting us something sweet.” Ellie was off into Olive’s Café greeting an acquaintance loudly before she went over to talk to them. Fatima only shook her head some, turning back to the book in front of her.

“You’ll figure it out, Y/N.”

“The UCAT?” she asked, looking at her laptop again, feeling her stomach drop at the sight of the practice exam again.

“Everything,” Fatima answered with so much conviction that for a moment, Y/N almost believed her.

“Alright, crew,” Dax called as they pulled into the farm, its lush and green landscape opening up around them. “Just warning you now, I’m gonna absolutely crush you tonight. I go for the title of champion even if it means I’m gonna have to lose some friends.”

“Sad, that,” Fatima sighed. “Seeing as you’ve never won before, what makes you think you’re gonna win this year?”

Amir turned to look at them from where he sat shotgun. “Dax, you may try to win, but we all know the former singer and frontman of Astronaut Lions will go home champion tonight.”

“You are a terrible singer, Amir. Dunno why we let you even sing,” Jo groaned.

“’Cause I’ve got a silky-smooth, delicious, fantastic-“

“-Shut up, mate!” Ellie groaned, making Jo laugh and give her a high five.

Harry stopped his van, killing the engine before Dax got up and opened the door for everything in the backseats. Y/N made sure no one could see her bum as she descended from the car, keeping her hands by her buttocks to keep her pleated lilac skirt from showing too much of her skin. She put her purse on her shoulder, letting it hang over her white crop cardigan. Music could be heard from the large barn, some awful singing streamed out from the open entrance as people walked out, laughing and carrying empty plates. The farm was just as beautiful as Y/N remembered it, now smelling of delicious barbeque and sounding of hens, chatter, and the occasional failed high-note. The karaoke night seemed to be under full way, the courtyard brimming with people, the same went for the inside of the barn it seemed.

Y/N, Fatima and Ellie fell into step beside one another as they walked over to the gate, Harry opening it for the rest, gesturing for them to walk in before him. When Y/N reached him last he gave her a little smile, eyes falling to the gravel under his feet.

“Harry!” Grace yelled, running from the grill where Uncle Tim, Jessa, and lolo stood looking at the food. “Harry, Harry, Harry!”

“There she is!” Harry bent down as Grace came running, wrapping his arms around her and spinning her around, her feet dangling in the air.

“Alright, Mr Flores?” Dax asked as he walked up to the grill, putting a hand on lolo’s shoulder. Lolo grinned up at Dax, saying something that Y/N didn’t catch as Amir let out a loud groan hitting his chest with both hands.

“Let’s go! Gonna belt Material Girl in approximately five minutes, everyone come watch to have your life changed!” Amir ran into the barn, shouting something as he met a few familiar faces inside.

“After a few pints he’ll try Gentleman,” Fatima sighed. “Someone should cover Gracie’s ears then.”

“That SL song?” Jo asked. “Nah, he better do Wiley Flow, or else I’m gonna have to challenge him to a rap battle.”

“Amir’s got no chance of keeping up with any of Stormzy’s songs,” Ellie pointed out matter-of-factly, scrunching up her nose. “Anyway,” Ellie stopped Jo before they started talking. “We’re doing Sugababes, yeah? About You Now?”

“Obvs!” Fatima exclaimed, offended that Ellie might’ve thought otherwise. “And Y/N’s joining us.”

“Oh!” Y/N raised her eyebrows, chuckling a little as Fatima wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard a Sugababes song.”

“They’re immense, aren’t they?” Ellie grinned. “I used to listen to Push The Button on repeat when I was like 12.”

“Was more of a Too Lost in You type of girl,” Y/N said, making Fatima gasp and Ellie bring a hand up to her chest.

“We’re doing Too Lost in You!” Ellie clapped her hands frantically. “Oh, my life! Legendary!”

“Of course,” Fatima smiled. “You wanna sing, yeah?”

“Let me down three ciders and I’ll be good to go.”

Jo laughed, gesturing for Y/N to follow them over to the main house where the four of them helped themselves to something to drink. Y/N glanced out of the kitchen window at the Styles-Flores family where they stood by the grill, sipping her cider. Grace sat on Harry’s shoulders, hands in his hair as she giggled at something. Harry had both his hands wrapped around his little sister’s ankles, holding her in place. Jessa was grinning at the two while Uncle Tim stood talking by the grill, asking lolo if what he was doing was alright, not having grilled this specific type of Filipino dish before. Dax stood chatting to one of Harry’s aunts, if it was Rachel or Abby, Y/N could not for the life of herself remember, but she noticed Harry’s aunt’s kids running around the grill, shouting at one another and laughing.

Y/N had never experienced a dynamic like this before. This family was so welcome, so big, so loving, and it made her happy to just watch them and know that, for a split second in time, she had been part of it. Maybe not a real part of it because this was not her family after all, but she had been touched by their warmth and been their guest for a time being. She would forever be grateful for that. Love tasted like Jessa’s lumpia, radiated like lolo’s approving smile, smelled like Grace’s hair after she had been out plucking wildflowers, and felt like Harry’s arms wrapped around her. Nothing would ever be quite like this.

“Let’s go to the barn,” Ellie said.

“I’ll just go say hi to Jessa,” Y/N announced, giving them all a smile before she walked outside and over to the grill where everyone was standing.

“Y/N!” Jessa exclaimed, opening her arms for her. Y/N grinned, walking over and doing the mano po on both Jessa and lolo. “How have you been? Don’t feel like I’ve seen you in ages.” Jessa swatted Harry’s arm, making him flinch away. “He’s keeping you all to himself, isn’t he?”

“I’ve been busy, nanay!” Harry said, furrowing his brows at his step-mum.

“Karaoke is huge in the Philippines,” Jessa explained, as she linked her arm with Y/N’s bringing her over to the grill where lolo and Tim were standing. “It is an understatement to say that Filipinos love karaoke, I daresay. Almost every Filipino home has a karaoke machine, Harry’s dad bought ours when we first moved here, but we put it out in the barn ‘cause we don’t really use it unless there’s a karaoke night, like tonight.”

“How nice, this is a tradition then? Each summer?”

“Yeah, we have a karaoke barbeque night every summer, everyone’s invited!” Jessa beamed. “It’s a fantastic way to just relax, forget about everything for a little while, belt your heart out to some of your favourite songs.”

Y/N smiled, eyes landing on the grill.

“Alright, Y/N?” Tim asked, smiling at her. “We made some tempeh for you, some Filipino barbeque sauce on it that’s out of this world. Not surprised, though, when Jessa made it.”

“Oh!” Jessa waved her hand as if to dismiss the compliment, but squeezed his shoulder. “I’m excited to see what you think. It was either tempeh or baos, thought you might like this a bit more.”

Y/N took a plate and a fork and watched as Tim put some food on her plate, thanking him once it was done. She picked up the tempeh and blew on it before she took a bite out of it, chewing it thoroughly and smiling at Jessa after swallowing.

“That’s brilliant.”

“Ahh! You think?” Jessa grinned, looking from Tim and back to Y/N, then at lolo. “Amá, Y/N liked the tempeh we made.”

Lolo smiled at Y/N and looked at her plate, nodding slowly. “You have to come and make some food with us once. You are part of the family now; we can show you our secret recipes.”

Y/N chuckled some before swallowing her bite of tempeh. “Wouldn’t say I’m part of the family, but thank you-“

“-Nonsense!” Jessa exclaimed, shaking her head furiously. “You are here, you’re making Harry happy, and since you’ve come to St Ives, the world’s been a brighter place. You’re where you need to be.”

For some reason, Y/N couldn’t quite believe what Jessa was saying. She knew it was coming from a good place, that she meant that it was nice to have Y/N there, but her family was in Winchester, she couldn’t possibly come into a new one and then ruin that one as well. This family she was visiting in St Ives would do just fine without her when she left in August. No one would miss her once she had been gone for a week, that was just a fact. Y/N was so bloody lost, she did not know what to do once her and Harry “broke up”, but she knew she would not disappoint and make any of the people around her sad, she refused.

Instead, Y/N smiled as she took the last bite of the tempeh, chewing and swallowing before she said. “Harry said something about an end of summer party.”

“Yes! I wanted to talk to you about that! Because, on the topic of food,” Jessa smiled back. “If you could give me some of your favourite vegetarian dishes, I’d love to make them for you! It would be amazing for many others to try something new as well.”

“I’d be more than happy to help out,” Y/N said, looking over at Grace as she sat on Dax’s back, the blonde man running around in circles as Harry ran after them, growling and acting like a disformed monster of sorts. She smiled a little at the sight, he looked absolutely ridiculous. How was he still cute? “I’ll bring the veggie food and I’ll show you how to make those, and then you show me how to make some Filipino dishes as well.”

Jessa placed a hand over her heart, beaming at Y/N. “You are an absolute treasure, me lover.”

Y/N smiled, eating some more of the tempeh. “When should I come and help out?”

“Are you free Tuesday?”

“Yeah, I don’t have any plans as of now.”

“Great! Harry will drive you here then. It’ll just be me, amá, Gracie, and Harry, and now you.” Jessa put her hand on Y/N’s arm, squeezing her lovingly before she turned to answer a question Tim asked her about the food he was currently grilling.

Y/N looked in the direction of Harry, Dax and Grace again, now walking towards the house. Jessa must have noticed Y/N staring in their direction because she linked her arm through Y/N’s and the two walked in the direction of the house as well.

“There’s more food inside,” she explained, grinning from ear to ear. “We do grill a lot, but Tim’s not really the best with the grill and he always insists on grilling at these gatherings, I don’t really have the heart to tell him no.” Jessa led Y/N into the dining room where she remembered all the food had been served at Grace’s birthday party. Again, casserole upon casserole stood spread over the dining table, covering it completely. Most of the dishes were all dug into, some almost completely wiped from the casseroles.

“Here,” Jessa said as she led Y/N over to the table. “I made your lumpia, there’s a few other vegetarian options as well.”

The fact that Jessa thought of this, thought of Y/N’s preference and made life a little easier for her, was so greatly appreciated that it nearly brought tears to Y/N’s eyes.

“This is biko,” Jessa explained, pointing to a casserole filled with banana leaves, a brown dish resting in it. “It’s a rice cake made from malagkit, or sticky rice, coconut milk, and brown sugar. Like other rice cakes, it is referred to as kakanin, taken from the word kanin which means rice, and is often eaten as a dessert or meryenda, meaning a mid-afternoon snack.”

“It looks lovely,” Y/N said, reaching for the spoon to get herself a slice before it was all eaten up. “Know we’re probably not set for dessert just yet, but I might just need some.”

Jessa laughed, smiling as Y/N took a bite of the biko. “What do you reckon, darling?”

“Heavenly, Jessa.”

Jessa clapped her hands together in delight, grinning from ear to ear as Y/N went in for another bite. “You have to try the buko pie next.”

“Which one’s that?”

Jessa pointed to a golden pie, not waiting for any sort of reply before cutting Y/N a small piece, placing it on Y/N’s plate. “It’s a sweet and rich pie made from young coconut meat.”

“Oh?”

“Buko pies are mostly sold in southern parts of Luzon in the Philippines. There’s this specific store down there called Collette’s that serves the best buko pie. I will never be able to replicate it, but I will try my hardest, every time I make a buko pie,” Jessa smiled. “We need to take you to Luzon, Y/N, you’d love it. Once we’ve saved up and all that.”

“This is the best buko pie I’ve ever tasted at least,” Y/N said, and Jessa laughed again looking out through the window only to sigh deeply.

“I need to go out there, it seems Tim is struggling and amá cannot be asked to help him out.” Jessa sprinted out, shouting something at Tim that Y/N didn’t catch but by the look on all the relatives standing around and Tim’s face, it couldn’t have been good. Y/N smiled a little, eating the rest of her pie before she realised she heard music. This wasn’t the type streaming out from the barn, this was coming from inside the house. And it was coming from the piano.

Y/N walked into the kitchen and placed her now empty plate on the kitchen counter before walking over to the dining room again, walking over to the doorway leading into the living room. With Grace on his lap, Harry was sitting by the piano, playing a tune Y/N had never heard before. It was both hopeful and very sad, unlike anything Y/N had ever heard before. There was no note sheet in front of him as he played, his eyes were only on the keys in front of him. Grace sometimes leaned forward and pressed a key she wasn’t supposed to, looking up at Harry while she giggled before leaning into him again, listening to the rest of the song.

“Can you play that other one?” Grace asked as Harry continued to play.

“What other one? There are quite a few, Gracie.”

“She means the one about me,” Dax grinned, standing beside the piano with his arms crossed, a massive grin on his face. “Go on, Hazza. Play that one inspired by Sexy Back.”

“Watch your mouth,” Harry hissed through gritted teeth, making his best friend laugh.

“Noooo!” Grace laughed. “The one you wrote after you, me and Y/N went to St Austell. The one about that trip.”

“Ahh, haven’t heard that one before,” Dax said, walking over to sit on the sofa beside the piano, watching the two siblings as they settled in again. Grace pressed one of the keys, looking up at Harry who smiled down at her and shook his head. He took her hand, bringing her finger over to the correct starting note, pressing it down for a long while so she’d get the feel of it. Then, he brought her to the next one, slowly playing the melody out before Grace motioned for Harry to take over for her.

What Harry produced just pressing a couple of keys at just the right moment was so breath-taking that Y/N almost felt dizzy. There was something to this melody that words weren’t ready to properly convey yet, something that was too powerful for a simple human brain to comprehend. Y/N understood why Harry wrote songs now. This melody captured that day perfectly. Her heart knew that melody. It had played that melody itself that day; it had been there with Harry while he came up with it as well.

She was thrown back to walking along St Austell, spending the day in the sunshine with two people that she had come to care so incredibly much for. Thrown back to standing side by side with Harry, talking about music, walking along the market, eating ice cream, laughing till her sides hurt. A lump suddenly appeared in her throat.

“What the fuc-“

“-Dax,” Harry said, stopping immediately. “No.”

“I’ve heard that word before, Harry,” Grace said.

“What, when?!”

“Harry, that was insane,” Dax said, grinning as he stood up from the sofa again. Before Y/N could be noticed, she stepped away from the doorway and walked outside again, feeling every inch of her chest hurting.

“Y/N!” Jo called. “Come in here!” They stood by the grill with a plate filled with food, waving her over so the two of them could walk in together.

She grinned over at Jo as she made her way over, them walking in the direction of the barn together. She waved at people she recognised – Florence from Bessie’s knitting club and Dax’s mum, was one of them. The inside of the barn was decorated with plenty of fairylights, giving the old interior a yellowish and homely glow resembling candlelight. There were small tables and chairs all around so people could sit down to eat, drink, and chat, while a huge screen was positioned by the furthest wall, two microphones attached to what looked to be a high quality karaoke machine of sorts. Jo showed the way and they sat down with the rest, it didn’t take long for Harry, Dax, and Grace to join them. Y/N got out of her chair and tapped Grace on the shoulder.

“Haven’t gotten a hug yet,” Y/N said and Grace jumped off the ground, throwing her arms around Y/N’s neck. She laughed, hugging the little girl to her for a few heavenly seconds before she stepped away. “You look nice today.”

“Nanay told me not to spill anything on it,” Grace said as she gestured at her pink, sparkly dress. “I told her I can’t promise that.”

Y/N chuckled. “You’re doing well so far, I’d say.”

“Thank you!” Grace beamed. “Anyway, Harry’s drinking that drink that makes his breath smell awful.”

“Gracie,” Harry warned from where he now sat beside Ellie, but the little girl did not appear to want to hear what he had to say.

“How can you kiss someone with bad breath, Y/N?” Grace asked and Y/N’s heart dropped at little as she thought about kissing Harry again. How they weren’t going to kiss again. How she wanted to kiss him, but not because they were fake dating. It took everything in Y/N not to look in Harry’s direction, because, judging by his little utterance of his sister’s name before, she knew he must’ve heard this as well.

“You don’t care if they’ve got bad breath if you really want to kiss them,” Y/N answered, giving Grace a smile.

Grace grimaced. “I would never kiss someone if their breath stank.”

“Don’t talk about kissing, you’re seven,” Harry said, sipping his pint.

Y/N raised her eyebrows at Grace and Grace did the same back. At Grace’s instructions, Y/N sat down in her seat so Grace could sit in her lap. Grace watched the people singing intently, sometimes singing along and nodding her head along to the music like she couldn’t help it. It was impossible not to smile at the sight of it, Y/N simply cared for this little creature so much it was hard for her to fully comprehend it. Grace, though young and Harry’s little sister, was the closest thing Y/N had ever come to a sister. They didn’t have a deep connection through thoughtful conversation, but they just understood and went along. There was an emotional and meaningful connection that, though not talked about, had appeared because they enjoyed and appreciated each other’s company.

Grace ran over to a nearby table to get herself some water, leaving Y/N sitting in the chair alone, her lap feeling oddly cold. On the other side of the table, Amir was talking loudly over the karaoke battle that had just begun.

“When I go back up to London for work in two weeks’ time, I feel like I’m just gonna make a right fool of myself, yeah? Normally takes a week for me to turn my weird off after I’ve been home.”

“Gonna be weird when you and Jo are off again,” Ellie said. “Why do you two have to work in London? Why can’t you just stay in St Ives?”

“Bit liberating to leave this place for another one every once in a while, not gonna lie,” Jo admitted, sipping their beer.

“Makes you realise all you’ve missed,” Fatima nodded. “Was the same when I came home for uni breaks, now I’m just really happy I ended up here. Might be underpaid as a teacher, but-“ Fatima shrugged her shoulders. “-I love living and working here, it’s home, after all.”

Y/N hated that she had never experienced that feeling; of coming back to something you had missed. Of coming home.

“Bum that,” Dax said. “I want my mates home at all times! I don’t care you’ve got a job!”

Y/N chuckled, the conversation around them commencing as she looked down at the table, picking at a stain on the table. Grace came back just then, but she didn’t get to sit down before Dax said her name.

“Wanna go up and sing your heart out?”

Grace squealed and took Harry’s hand. Harry downed the rest of his beer and stood up, walking with Grace, Dax, and Amir up to the karaoke machine. Y/N rested her chin in her hand, smiling as she watched the four of them discuss what song to do. It had to be an easy one that Grace already knew, it might be hard to find the correct one. They took some time to decide, but suddenly, the drums to a song Y/N recognised from Harry’s favourite’s playlist started playing. She remembered how Grace really loved that playlist.

“Uptown girl,” Grace sang into the microphone as she perched on Harry’s hip, sharing microphone’s with him. “She’s been living in her uptown world.”

Dax and Amir joined in as well, singing along with Grace who was still unsure of the lyrics but tried to read them as best she could on the screen in front of them. Harry moved them to the music, Dax throwing an arm around Amir’s shoulders as they started singing their hearts out. It was simply impossible not to smile as you watched the four of them, dancing and singing along to Billy Joel’s song.

“God,” Fatima sighed as she scooched her chair closer to Y/N’s. “I wish someone looked at me the way Harry looks at you.”

Y/N halted a little at Fatima’s words, looking in her direction as Amir, Dax, and Grace sang “And now she’s looking for her downtown man, that’s what I am”.

“Pardon?”

Fatima grinned. “Oh, you know-“ She placed her chin in her head, looking off into the distance with exaggerated doe eyes, a dreamy look on her face. For a split second, Y/N’s heart seemed to lurch out of her chest. Harry… Harry looked at her like that? He glanced at her? Surely, Fatima was not being serious and she had simply caught Harry smiling at Grace when she sat in Y/N’s lap.

Y/N laughed. “You’re taking the mick, that’s not how he looks at me.”

“Wouldn’t know, would you? Always happens when you’re not looking.”

“Harry,” Grace said, not even bothering to hold the microphone away as she spoke to him in the middle of the song. “You need to sing, the song’s for Y/N, remember?”

Y/N glanced beyond Fatima and at the group in front of the screen, a rush of adrenaline streaming through her veins. Laughter could be heard throughout the room at Grace’s words, many turning in Y/N’s direction to look at her, all with smiles and curious looks on their faces. At once, Y/N’s face seemed to be too hot for its own good. She bit her bottom lip, continued to watch the gang, ignoring the heat in her cheeks.

Harry seemed to take a deep breath before he started singing with Amir and Dax, both of them doing a miserable job of doing the song any sort of justice. Neither were impressive singers, but Y/N knew Harry was.

“Uptown girl, you know I can’t afford to buy her pearls,” Harry sang, voice so effortlessly breath-taking that Y/N felt like she was doing a pretty good job of imitating the dreamy look Fatima had demonstrated earlier. “But maybe someday when my ship comes in, she’ll understand what kind of guy I’ve been, and then I’ll win.”

Grace joined in then, wrapping her arm around Harry’s shoulder and leaning her head against his. They all continued to sing along to the song, Y/N not paying any sort of attention to the conversation between Fatima, Ellie, and Jo. She watched as the four of them cheered once they were done singing, bowing to the small applause they got before returning to the table.

“I need to go tell nanay!” Grace shouted, running off outside to Jessa and the rest of the family.

Y/N smiled at Harry as he came back, getting a tight-lipped smile back before he picked up his, Dax’s, Amir’s and Jo’s empty beer cans, walking over to get them all a new round. Grace came back with Halo Halo, placing herself on Y/N’s lap as the two ate, talking non-stop. The little one disappeared after a little while, Y/N suspected it was because it was getting rather late. As the night went on, Y/N realised that the only two that would be able to stand by the end of the night were her and Fatima. The others got very drunk, talking loudly about everything insignificant and nothing they would remember in the morning. Harry kept looking at the watch on his wrist, clearly making sure that they got back to his at a good hour so he could report at 3am. When Harry’s speech got a bit more slurred and his eyes a wee hooded, Y/N started looking out for him. Using the time on her phone, she kept an eye out, making sure that Harry returned to his cottage before then so he could sleep off most of his intoxication.

Talking amongst themselves as the rest chatted loudly, Fatima and Y/N agreed that Fatima would be the one to drive everyone home. It would be easier to drop Harry off last as this was his van, and Fatima didn’t live too far away from the lighthouse, the two then decided Y/N would sleep at her place that night, it would be nice just being the two of them. She loved how closed she was getting to Fatima and Ellie. There hadn’t really been a time before when she had made proper good friends, but everyone around that table were currently climbing very fast and very high up on her list of favourite people in the entire world. She genuinely appreciated Fatima’s help with the UCAT reading earlier that week, it had really helped her along, even though the result hadn’t been the best. That was Y/N’s fault though, not Fatima’s teaching skills.

At one point, Dax got all of them up from the table, bringing them over to the screen, telling them over and over again how they needed to do this. Y/N was unsure if they really did, but she didn’t bother telling a very drunk Dax that as he handed out microphones, telling people to share. Y/N scooted up next to Ellie, watching Harry as he put an arm around Jo’s shoulder, patting them as the two of them along with Amir watched Dax search for the song.

“We need to know what song we’re gonna embarrass ourselves to,” Amir exclaimed as Dax was taking his time typing.

“I’m not about to do a Union J song, mate,” Ellie said.

“Alright, I liked one of their songs ten years ago, Ellie!” Dax looked over his shoulder at her, a deep furrow to his brow. “Carry You is a belter!”

“It’s not.”

“Jo, back me up here,” Dax said, turning back to write something into the laptop standing there.

“Dax… don’t make us sing Union J or The Wanted or JLS or anything like that, we don’t need that,” Jo sighed.

“The fact you’re embarrassed about our boyband period in 2013 hurts.” Dax glared at Jo.

“Right, then, what’s the song we’re singing?” Harry shot in, nodding at the laptop again. “We’re just standing here lookin’ stupid now.”

“Looking stupid?” Amir tutted, shaking his head. “Couldn’t be me, mate. Model material, this is. Look like I’m straight off the runway.” He gestured at his body and Fatima feigned throwing up, making the five drunks howl with laughter.

“Ultraviolet, Stiff Dylans.”

Y/N gasped at Dax’s words, bringing her hand up to her chest as the others around just looked at her, afraid something had happened. She grinned at Dax. “That used to be my favourite song!”

This seemed to be shocking news to absolutely everyone.

“What?” Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging was revolutionary.”

“Too right,” Harry said. “But… were you…” He blinked a few times. “Were you even allowed to watch it? Not a film I reckon would’ve been allowed in your house.”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say, I used to be a rebel.”

“Yes, Y/N!” Dax grinned, giving Y/N a high five. “Now, bum God Save the Queen, this is Britain’s national anthem! Someone record this, history in the making!”

The familiar music started up and Y/N was taken back to a time when she had a massive crush on Aaron Taylor-Johnson, hiding her obsession with this film from her parents, and listening to this song on repeat. The whole gang started singing, Amir doing a horrible job of keeping up with everyone else, but it was fun to watch him get annoyed with himself for not getting it right. Involuntarily, Y/N’s eyes fell on Harry. He was singing his heart out, sounding better than everyone else, but in his drunken state he seemed to have forgotten some of the lyrics. However, everyone knew the song and it felt very good to be with people she adored, singing a song all of them knew and loved, together. She felt part of something bigger than herself in that moment.

Maybe that was why she did it. Because, looking back, Y/N did not quite know what came over her in that moment, but she loved herself for it. As the song started nearing the end, Y/N took the microphone out of Ellie’s hands and started singing at the top of her lungs, taking absolutely everyone by surprise but she did not care. Ellie started laughing and the rest joined in again towards the end, matching Y/N’s volume.

As she turned around after the song, grinning from ear to ear as she glanced at her friends, basking in their applause and cheers, she caught Harry’s eye. That crooked smile of his was on his face along with a look she wasn’t sure she had ever really seen before, maybe only once. Amusement tangled up with adoration, forming a sort of emotion that had yet to be given a word; someone on the cusp of surrendering themselves completely to the overpowering concept of love, yet still holding back in fear of the unrequited. As soon as their eyes met, Harry looked away, scratching at the back of his neck as he walked back over to their table, everyone following suit.

The time came for them all to leave and Harry gave Y/N the car keys, claiming that he was not fit to drive, though she had not needed him to tell her that. Y/N gave them over to Fatima and all of them made their way over to the van. The night sky was black, brimming with glinting stars and the moon hanging big and yellow over Cornwall, wishing them all a good night. Y/N walked over to Jessa and thanked her for her hospitality, asking her where lolo and Grace were. She explained they’d gone to bed a long time ago, lolo had probably read Grace a bedtime story and fallen asleep himself, he sometimes did that when he stayed the night at the farm.

Y/N ran over to the van, opening the passenger door to see Amir sitting there, a bag in front of him in case he should throw up on the way home. He gave Y/N a peace sign before she closed the door and opened the door into the backseats.

“There you are,” Jo said through a yawn. “Let’s go, Ima.”

“Y/N!” Harry called from further back in the van, making Dax groan and mumble a “shut up, mate” that Harry did not hear. “Y/N! My flower! Come back here, I saved us the whole back backseat!”

Y/N glanced in Fatima’s direction, only to see her friend raise her eyebrows at her, nodding her head. “He made a big fuss.”

“Y/N, come here, I want to tell you something,” Harry said, words slurring a bit. Y/N stepped into the van properly, closing the door behind her before she walked back to Harry, sitting down in the seat right beside him by the window, even though there were three seats in the far back of the car. The car jolted a little as Fatima started driving, steering the car up the gravel round and towards the centre of St Ives.

“What’d you wanna say?” Y/N asked Harry in a hushed voice, hoping he’d mimic her.

“I… I wanted to say something that’s been on my mind for a while now,” he said, whispering back to her, his face mere centimetres from her own. She felt hot all over, adoring their close proximity but also remembering the rule they had made some days ago. As they drove by the white fluorescent streetlights, Harry’s face lit up for a few seconds, making him appear almost angelic. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Okay.”

“It’s got to do with you.”

“Figured as much.”

Harry giggled, looking down at his hands where they rested between his legs, sliding his thumb along his other. “You’re very smart.”

“Thank you.”

“Smartest person I know.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. “I doubt that.”

He pursed his lips as he thought. “You do that a lot.”

“What?”

“Doubt yourself.” He stared back at her, moving a little closer so their sides were flush against one another. “I think you’re great. I’ve never doubted you.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, neither knowing what to say as the world around them seemed to disappear completely. For a single moment, it looked like he was going to tilt his head to the side, almost as if he were getting ready to study her like he had done at Porthgwidden. He stopped himself, staring back at his hands.

“I don’t have any cucumber left,” Harry mumbled, this made Y/N giggle a little. “This ain’t gonna end well for me tonight if I don’t get that cucumber.”

Y/N giggled some more, bringing her hand to her mouth as Harry looked at her again, his crooked smile appearing on his face, dimple showing.

“What?”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re talking about a cucumber when you say it like that,” she said.

“What then?”

“Well… what’s kind of shaped like a cucumber?”

Harry furrowed his brows, thinking hard.

“You have it, I don’t.”

“A cock?” Harry mouthed, looking absolutely gobsmacked that Y/N would suggest such a thing, which made Y/N laugh again.

“Yeah, dildo or summat.”

“Y/N Bernadette Angelica McKay,” Harry gasped, shaking his head as his eyes fell on the road through the window beyond Y/N. “Saucy git.”

“You started it.”

“Well, you made it sexual.” Harry crossed his arms, pretending to roll his eyes to make Y/N laugh, which worked effortlessly. “Wouldn’t mind a dildo, not gonna lie.”

“Harry!”

“What?! It’s the truth!”

Y/N laughed again, watching as Ellie and Jo jumped out of the car once Fatima stopped it, waving at everyone before they started walking in the same direction. Fatima started the car over again just as Jo stumbled and almost face planted, making everyone in the van – including the two outside – crack up. Y/N settled into her own seat, looking down at her thighs as they drove off again, giggling a little to herself as she replayed Jo’s near-death experience in her head.

“I…” Harry started, and when she glanced up at him, he was smiling that very small smile back at her. It was barely there, making his dimples show ever so slightly, and it made every single butterfly in Y/N’s tummy flutter their wings madly. “I love the sound of your laughter.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat.

“It makes me happy.”

She knew that if she continued to look at Harry and he continued to look at her, she would just start feeling more for him. Though she knew it was inevitable, she would fall in love with him sooner or later, she wanted to slow the process out so that she didn’t end up spending too much time with him while she loved him.

“When you said you watched Angus, Thongs earlier, it kinda shocked me a bit,” Harry admitted, talking as if it was all part of his stream of consciousness. “Not that I think you’re innocent or anything like that, you don’t seem innocent- and when I say it like that it sounds weird.”

Y/N bit her lips together, trying not to laugh.

“From what I’ve heard your parents were very strict so…” Harry shrugged his shoulder, looking away from her again. He tilted his head a little to the side as he caught eye of Amir in the front. “Amir! Oi! If you throw up in my van I’m gonna murder you!”

“Shut up, Haz,” Dax groaned. “Y/N, why the fuck is your boyfriend so loud when he’s plastered? Bloody hell.”

“I’m not loud, I’m passionate.”

“About Amir not throwing up in your car?” Dax rolled his eyes. “Brilliant.”

Fatima stopped the car, shouting at Dax to get out and help Amir home. Dax slowly walked around the car and took Amir’s arm over their shoulder, the two walking off as Amir started singing a song that had been sung right before they left the farm. Fatima sat there and watched the two walk up the street, making sure they got inside Amir’s place where Dax would kip before she started driving towards the lighthouse.

The three were quiet for the last part of the drive, Harry seemingly about to doze off all of a sudden, humming Ultraviolet under his breath as they started driving up the gravel path to the lighthouse. Y/N just barely saw the light of the lighthouse before it disappeared, but did not pay any more notice to it as Harry leaned over her, glancing out the window as if to see his house. Once Fatima stopped the car, Harry reached for the seat buckle, fumbling for it in the dark before he finally got free.

“Help me inside?” he asked Y/N, making her lose her words a bit at first in surprise, but she quickly loosened her own seatbelt as Fatima turned around, about to jump out of the van as well.

“Just gonna help him get to bed, it’ll take five minutes,” Y/N told Fatima as Harry slid the backdoor open, getting out of the car.

“Ten if can force a cuddle out of her,” Harry said, chuckling a little to himself as he watched Y/N get out of the car and close the door behind her. She only raised her eyebrows at him, holding her hand out for his keys, which he gave her eagerly. She wanted nothing more than to cuddle him for ten minutes, she’d take cuddles for one minute if that’s all she got, but she knew he was only saying it in front of Fatima to make her believe them even more. He took his time walking to the front door, as if to drag the time out, while Y/N walked on inside, turning the lights on for him. It took some time for him to get his shoes off and while he did that, Y/N looked through his fridge, not seeing any cucumbers but a few tomatoes could maybe do as post-party food.

Harry put his rucksack with his camera down by the sofa, strolling over to the bathroom to do whatever he needed to do. Y/N put the tomato on the counter, making Harry a glass of water like he had made her last time and putting that along with the tomato on the dining table. Once he walked out of the bathroom, he rubbed at his eyes, giving Y/N a smile as their eyes met.

“Are you staying?”

“No, I… I’m going home with Fatima.”

Harry nodded. “You two…?”

Y/N chuckled some, feeling her cheeks get a little hot as she shook her head. “No, we’re friends. I’m kipping at hers.”

“Okay, good.” Harry nodded, biting the corner of his upper lip as he said, “I don’t like it when you’re alone.”

“Why not?”

“Because of what you said about your dad, that he was a bad man and all that.”

Y/N felt a sort of panic rise in her chest and she looked out the still open door, seeing Fatima sit by the stone fence circling the lighthouse, watching its lights. Harry yawned, lying down in his bed and glancing over at Y/N, his eyes trailing down her body. She felt herself blushing, both because Harry was staring at her like that and she did not want to talk about her dad, especially not while Harry was drunk.

“Can you stay?” His voice was soft, speaking with a meaning that went beyond the cottage and tonight.

“I’m going with Fatima.”

“I want you to stay, flower.”

She wanted to lay down next to him, slide her hand through his hair and watch as he closed his eyes, smiling ever so slightly and humming in total and utter contentment. Fall asleep next to him, feel his breath on her skin again, know that he was there to protect her if anything were to happen. She suddenly remembered how safe she had felt waking up here, how she had never slept as good as she did that single night she spent at Harry’s cottage. Never again would she feel like that, Y/N realised. Once she left St Ives in a couple of weeks, all the safeness and the sense of belonging would be ripped away from her. It would surely be like someone ripping off her arm.

Harry sat up in his bed as if he sensed a shift in the air around them, looking up at Y/N with slight worry but also a sort of desperation, silently asking her to please consider his offer. God, in that very second, it was very hard to resist him. Because when he looked at her like that, so attentive, so devoted to everything she did, she simply wanted to do nothing but lay down next to him and do what he asked. But she couldn’t, and with each passing second where they just looked at one another, the tension between them grew and she felt goosebumps up her back. She cleared her throat some.

“You wanted to tell me something earlier, was that it?” Y/N asked, wanting to get them talking about something else.

“What?”

“In the van, when I entered it, you said you had something to say, what did you have to say?”

“Oh,” Harry said as if suddenly remembering. He glanced away suddenly, scratching at the back of his neck. “No, it was… I wanted to tell you that… I know we haven’t spent much time together since the whole… since Terraland… last Saturday- so like, a week ago…”

She nodded, encouraging him to keep going.

“I’m sorry for that. I don’t… The last thing I’d ever do is hurt your feelings or make you uncomfortable.”

“I know, Harry.”

“I just…” He watched her, taking in every single one of her movements as if he would forget what she looked like when she left. “You and me, you know… we were sitting there together and… you were so pretty when we sat there at Porthgwidden, I couldn’t… I had to kiss you. Spur of the moment kind thing, I suppose.”

Y/N did not want to look at him, did not want to hear him say anything else. Had all the nice things he had said at the beach also been just “spur of the moment” then? So nothing was real? Not that she had thought it was, but that kind of just underlined it, didn’t it? She didn’t know what to think anymore, everything was so blurry, nothing seemed to really make sense. Everything was for the fake relationship, it always was.

“Y/N!” Fatima called from outside, Y/N glanced at her. “Say goodbye so we can leave!”

When she glanced back at Harry, Harry seemed to get a little desperate, not wanting her to leave just yet. But Y/N couldn’t stay.

“Y/N,” Harry said, maybe realising that what he’d said might’ve been a bit much. “I-I didn’t mean it like that.”

She gave him a smile. “We’ll talk soon, yeah?”

Harry just nodded, and she walked out the door and toward Fatima who was smiling at her. With one last glance over her shoulder, she saw Harry in the window over his dining table, looking out after Y/N and Fatima as they walked along the gravel path toward town. His hand was resting by the tomato she had laid there for him, hoping that it could somehow be a good second to his usual cucumber tradition after nights out. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest as a slight cold breeze blew past them and Fatima audibly shivered.

“Yeah, would you look at that,” Fatima said as Y/N glanced her way. “Left me out in the wind, you did. Now I’m freezing.”

Y/N laughed, nudging Fatima’s shoulder with her own. The two friends went on back to Fatima’s place, acting as two old friends would.

Monday, 3 August

This was the first time Y/N had ever witnessed rain in St Ives since she arrived in June. It was not pouring down as one would assume after a long drought, a slight pitter-patter fell onto the grass around her as she walked along the gravel path, falling onto the hood of the yellow rain coat she was wearing. The sky was a dull grey, not something one should be worrying about, but there were a few darker clouds hovering somewhere in the horizon and she was sure that with this high of a temperature and the promise of pouring rain later on, lightning would occur as well.

Once she reached the lightkeeper residence, she knocked three times, waited a minute for Harry to open, then peeked her head in when he didn’t. Harry was sat by the dining table, looking through an instruction manual in front of him, frowning down at the pages as if he was reading a language he did not understand. At the sound of the door opening, he looked in Y/N’s direction, giving her a little smile.

“Saw you approach just now,” he said before looking down at the manual before him again.

“So you didn’t bother opening the door for me?” she asked, smiling over at him, but Harry did not answer. This was what she had been afraid of.

Ever since the karaoke and barbeque night at the farm, Harry had not met her gaze. Whenever she had come over to study, he wouldn’t spend too long in the cottage with her and he would rarely make her tea as he usually did. There was something not subtly cold, but different. He still welcomed her to sit in his windowsill and would still talk to her, but he wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t stay around for long enough so they could talk properly. Y/N had tried, even suggested they go down to the Bakery to buy a pasty and walk around St Ives, go to the Candy Shoppe, or to the pub to have a few pints, but Harry had turned down all her offers, told her they could do it another time. He never really gave an explanation for why he didn’t want to hang out and Y/N was afraid of asking for one. But they had to talk. She didn’t want to go on like this, especially when Harry had come to mean so much to her.

“What’re you up to, then?” She took her coat and boots off, walking over to where Harry was seated by the dining table.

“I’m about to change the bulbs before it starts getting dark out and the lamp’s turned on,” he explained, furrowing his brows as he ran his finger over the page, concentrating on reading a specific line. Y/N stayed silent as not to disturb anything. He got up from the chair, sipping the last of his tea before he shoved the manual down in the back pocket of his denim shorts. He slipped his red knitted jumper over his Elton John tee shirt, the same one he had given to Y/N to wear after Dax’s birthday party when she slept over for the first time.

“Can I help?” she asked, giving him a smile she hoped he’d lay his eyes on her to see.

And he did, lips parting a little as if he was surprised by the suggestion. This puzzled Y/N as she had always expressed her willingness to help him, no matter what.

“Go on, then.” Harry nodded. “Just needed a cuppa before I started, it’s well past 6 after all.”

“You’re going to bed soon?”

“Yeah, and the lamp gets turned on in about an hour.”

Y/N smiled as he walked past her. “You’ve been procrastinating all day, have you?”

“Not all day.”

She laughed and she thought she saw the flicker of a smile on Harry’s lips at the sound.

“I’ve done other things as well, but I need this done now and quickly.”

Y/N nodded, putting her rain boots back on as Harry got his trainers on, the two then jogging in the direction of the lighthouse as not to get soaked in the rain that was starting to fall harder around them. Harry held the door open for her, then locked it once they were both inside. They started their ascent, Harry leading them past his little office floor, past the bedroom like room, up and up and up, till they finally reached the bell room. Even though Y/N was wearing a short white sundress with her green oversized boxy high-neck jumper along with her mid-calf black rain boots, she walked up the ladder leading to the bell room. She remembered how she had been reluctant to walk up wearing a dress that first time, but now she didn’t really care. Harry needed to change the bulbs and she said she was going to help.

Along the way, Harry had brought a toolbox with him, placing it up on the floor of the bell room before he walked up the ladder, letting Y/N go on up after him. For some reason it shocked Y/N when she came up to see that the lamp – the only thing inside the bell room – was not moving. She had imagined that the light in lighthouses moved around, and though Harry had explained what offshore and shore-based lighthouses were, the pattern of a lighthouse and the like, he hadn’t really explained how the lamp worked.

“It doesn’t rotate,” she said, walking up to the relatively small lamp in the middle of the room.

Harry was rummaging through his toolbox, stopping momentarily as he glanced over his shoulder at Y/N, unsure what she was referring to first, then let his eyes fall to the lens. “It flashes.”

Y/N furrowed her brows, walking around the lens to get a good look at it, studying the ridges and different colours of it, blank and red. “flashes?”

Harry pulled a screwdriver out of the toolbox and started working on the screws around the lamp. “It’s to identify it when it’s dark out, sailors can’t make out the white lighthouse when it’s night-time.”

“Makes sense.”

“Most lighthouses, especially shore-based ones like Clodgy, rhythmically flash or eclipse their lights to provide an identification signal. The particular pattern of flashes or eclipses is known as the character of the light, and the interval at which it repeats itself is called the period.” Harry tipped the plastic lens to reveal the five lightbulbs under it; Y/N was surprised to see it wasn’t made of glass. She supposed it was more convenient. “Essentially, a lighthouse may display a single flash, regularly repeated at perhaps 5-, 10-, or 15- seconds intervals. This is known as a flashing light. Clodgy is one of them.”

“What are these then?” Y/N asked, pointing to the red streaks.

“Basically, if someone is on sea and they are driving in the direction of sharp rocks or land, they’ll see a red light flashing instead of a normal, yellow one.”

“Danger, danger.”

Harry reached into his pocket, pulling out a box and putting it on the little space underneath the lamp.

“How many bulbs are there?” Y/N asked, looking at the different ones all attached to a round object in the middle of the lens.

“Five, they usually don’t have to be changed out. You gotta do so every 15-25 years, depending. This little thing-“ Harry pointed to the small bulb between them. “Lights up 15 miles using these lenses. It’s incredible.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, seeing a tiny and amused smile on his face as he talked. This was the most she had heard him talk in over a week; it made her heart do a silly fluttery thing.

“When one of these five bulbs go out, the apparatus knows that the bulb no longer works and it will rotate and-“ Harry placed his finger on the side of the bulb, rotating it to the right so that the apparatus turned, clicking as another bulb fit into place at the top. “-Click to a new bowl, it’s on automation and all that. So, we rarely change the bulbs.”

She bit her bottom lip as she watched him, not able to help herself. It was just so endearing to watch him like this, so amazing to hear him talking so unfiltered to her again. Right then, talking about bulbs and apparatuses and what not, he was so engulfed, so eager to tell her everything, that he did not care how he sounded. He was comfortable. She could tell.

He must’ve noticed how he rambled off, because he cleared his throat and stood up straight again, running a hand through his hair as a slight pink colour appeared in his cheeks. He quickly started to change the first bulb, putting a new on in its stead. Y/N just watched him, finding the sound of Harry working, the slight clicks, the quiet patter of the rain against the windows surrounding them, very relaxing. He seemed to be relaxed as well, so she thought this might be the best time as any.

Inhaling slowly, she leaned her hands on either side of the slight counter the lamp was standing on. She looked over it at Harry, his bottom lip between his teeth as he put the second bulb in its new place.

“Harry, we…” she started, swallowing thickly. “We need to talk about… things.”

Harry sighed. “Yes. Yes, we do.”

Knowing he felt the same way about that made it easier to breathe for a reason. At least she wasn’t going into this the same way she had been going into the Emilia situation after Dax’s birthday.

He started on the third bulb as he started talking, beating Y/N to it. “I, uhm… I want to tell you about my dad.”

This came as a shock to Y/N who was left raising her eyebrows at him for a second or two before saying, “Yeah, alright.”

He glanced up at her over the lightbulb. “You didn’t see it coming?”

“We’ll talk about your dad first,” Y/N gave him a reassuring smile. “We have time. We’ll always have time.”

“But that’s the thing…” Harry trailed off, switching out the fourth bulb, not meeting her eyes. “We don’t. If there’s one thing we won’t always have, it’s time. There won’t ever be enough time spent with your loved ones, there just won’t. No matter how much time you spend or how much time you spent with someone, you’ll always want more time. Always. What you got is never enough.”

The rain outside fell a little harder against the windows of the bell room, the wind a little harsher.

“Two years ago, my dad went on a fishing trip. He usually did this, took a few of his mates and then set off out wherever. They were never gone for more than a day tops, they always returned at night with tons of fish and I remember how Jessa would be so delighted and then invite our whole family over for barbecues and the like.” He paused as he started on the fifth and last bulb. “One day, September 4th to be exact, he didn’t return. Jessa and I sat up for hours waiting for signs of him. She started calling the spouses of the others on the boat, no one else had returned either.”

Y/N absolutely hated that she knew where this was going but she hadn’t told Harry that yet.

“Dax ended up sleeping at the lightkeeper house with me for a month and some after that, just didn’t want me to be alone, you know? He’s sound like that.” Once he was done putting the bulb in place, he reached for the lens and put it back where it belonged. “I think most of my mates and the people in my family’s life tried to keep our minds off it, ‘cause the more days went by, the more likely it was that… you know… he was dead.”

Harry sighed, reaching for the screwdriver, taking a little pause in talking as he screwed everything back into place. Y/N took a few steps back, watching him do his job and make himself ready to talk again.

“The boat was found October 14th, no one and nothing was in it.” Harry still wouldn’t look at her, put the screwdriver back in the toolbox and kept his back to her for a few seconds before turning around again. The bell room was starting to get relatively dark; she supposed the light would turn on soon, and she could barely make out the slight glassy expression in Harry’s eyes.

“I went absolutely mad. There are big chunks of time that I don’t even remember from that time, my brain has just… erased it from my memory, it was the darkest period of my life. They didn’t find any of the passengers’ bodies, there were three of them as well. It had been a turbulent and stormy night, so a sea storm took them out, drowned them all. But I… I…” Harry inhaled hugely, breathing shakily. “I didn’t… I still kinda don’t want… want to believe it. My dad is laying somewhere, far away from me, far away from Jessa, Gracie, from… from home…” He looked down at the ground, blinking rapidly. “It doesn’t fucking feel real. It’s not supposed to happen. This… He was a good sailor; he didn’t drown at sea.”

Y/N felt something starting to sting behind her eyes, she bit her bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. The storm outside seemed to pick up, sounding rougher than a minute before.

“I took over after him because I thought… I thought that, if no one else could, I could help him find the way home. I could shine that light; I’d take care of the lighthouse till he came back home. I’d show him the way, I’d light up the path for him, and he’d come home to me again. Where he belonged, where he should’ve been all along.” He took a deep breath, slowly looking up again, eyes falling to the lamp in the middle of the room. “It was a way for me to ignore the fact that he was truly dead. He wouldn’t come back. I didn’t really… I didn’t realise how… I didn’t realise how true it was that my dad, my constant, was gone, until Emilia left as well.”

Y/N furrowed her brows, a sort of rage filling her again. She had never been this angry before. There was something burning inside her, a sort of desire to protect Harry from everything evil in the world. No one deserved to hurt, but Harry least of everyone.

“I met Emilia at one of Astronaut Lions’ gigs the year before. I remember standing at the bar and she came up to me, asked me if I was Amos’ son – that’s my dad’s name, by the way - to which I said yes, and she told me her dad used to lend my dad and his mates his fishing boat sometimes. My dad and hers knew each other. So, we got talking, and, I want to say it’s ‘cause our dads knew each other, we got pretty close, pretty fast.”

Talking about Emilia brought Y/N’s gagging reflex into full force, but she composed herself.

“When my dad died, she was around, but not as often as Dax, Amir, Jo, Fatima, Ellie, or my family. She visited and stuff, kept me occupied, but the gang spent a lot of time at my place, occasionally rotating. It was nice, I didn’t want to be alone. I love being alone, but I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts then.”

Harry leaned against the window, eyes falling to the floor. Y/N continued to stand where she had, watching Harry carefully.

“We had been together for a year and some then. We hadn’t really fought much, I don’t really like confrontation, it makes me very uncomfortable, so I usually just let her say what she wanted to say if she was annoyed with me and didn’t bother arguing. Fatima kept telling me how unfair it was on her and our relationship, and also on myself, that I never really stood up for myself when we fought. It’s, like… I wanted it to work out so much that I wanted to ignore the things that didn’t. I didn’t want to do something that might cause us to break up.” He sighed heavily. “We were good for each other, we did have some good times, and she was my first ever proper girlfriend that broke my heart, but… but these last few weeks I’ve come to realise that she never really wanted what was best for me the way all my mates did.”

Y/N wanted to walk over to him and hug him. She wanted to console him; tell him she was there if he needed anything.

“I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about that part of my life, you know? I’m aware that breaking up with someone ‘cause they’re bad for your mental health is valid, but what she did really affected me. It made the grieving process worse. I had never really felt truly alone till then.” He furrowed his brows some. “I didn’t have dad; I didn’t have Emilia… I knew I had my mates, but… Emilia and dad meant so much to me, losing them both in such a short period of time… broke me.”

Y/N swallowed a lump in her throat, hoping he couldn’t hear how sad his story made her. “Harry, you don’t have to elaborate if it’s hard for you.”

“No, you deserve to know. Emilia’s back, you’re my… my supposed girlfriend and you… I want you to know.”

Y/N nodded, clutching at the hem of her jumper.

“I know it was a naff move on my part when I went with her to get her that cup, I know I should have understood why you were rightfully upset right away, I know I shouldn’t have been too friendly when she came to Terraland…” Trailing off, he balled his hands into fists at his sides. “The reason why I’ve been so reluctant to push her out of my life is… I know it’s fucking mental; I know I sound right mad, yeah? But… I figured that if she could return, then maybe… then maybe dad…” Harry didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to.

Y/N shook her head as the only thing in the bell room that was audible was the sound of the rain and wind outside, sounding eerie and strong against the top of the lighthouse. “It’s not mental. It’s a very valid and normal reaction to grief, clinging onto the last shred you have of someone, hoping that one day they might come back to you.”

Harry looked at her feet, not ready to meet her eyes yet.

“My dad and I have never been close. I used to love being around him when I was little, I remember associating him with goodness and warmth. He would play with me and make me laugh, do things that my mum hated him for.”

“Like?”

“Throw me in the air, let me jump from a bunk bed and onto the mattress on the floor below, that sort of thing.” Y/N almost smiled at the memory. She hadn’t thought about that in ages. “However, as I grew up, my dad just got colder. He was still nice to me, was still protective and a dad, but he wasn’t the same.”

Y/N could tell by the slight breath Harry inhaled that he wanted to ask what changed but stopped himself. She was grateful he did. She could not go that far just yet.

“But… though it’s not the same as you, I respected my dad’s wishes to stay in Winchester and do as my mum; become a stay-at-home mum who didn’t need education or anything like that. He wanted me to marry well and learn how to be a mum; learn how to be safe at home and mostly indoors at all times.” She furrowed her brows some. “I believed him when he told me I wouldn’t be fit to become a dentist.” She paused for a moment. “You know when you’re scared, and you believe every word your parents say to you ‘cause you don’t know what else to do? They’re older, wiser, got more experience, so of course they know better than you, they know the best thing to do in any given situation.”

Harry nodded slightly.

“Before… Before I came to St Ives, I hadn’t really parted from my family at all. It wasn’t really like I had a choice. They were just always there, and I was expected to be there, too. I was terrified when I left; not only didn’t my parents know I was leaving, but I had just disappointed them in every way possible anyway, so I… I couldn’t stay there.” Her eyes fell on the lamp that yet hadn’t turned on.

Harry cleared his throat, eyes still on the lens in the middle of the room. “Your parents don’t know you’re here?”

“They do now.”

“You told them?”

Y/N felt her heart pick up its speed, she swallowed thickly, continuing to avoid Harry’s eyes. “What I’m trying to get at is that I haven’t, and probably won’t, tell them about the UCAT, or the fact that I’m trying to become a dentist. Part of me wishes that I did, but I know the reaction I’m gonna get… And the other part of me… That part is longing for that loving and warm father to return, the one that helped me fly when I was little.” She leaned against the window. “It’s not the same as you by any means, but it’s-“

“-It’s just as valid, Y/N.”

She shook her head some, looking out at the tall waves below. “You ever get the feeling that, no matter what, you won’t really be good enough, and you settle down with that thought? It’s not this hopeless feeling, but rather you’re just… content with that. You’re average so you’ll get average back.”

“You’re not average.”

She looked over at him, and for what seemed like the first time that day, their eyes met.

“Did your parents make you feel that horrible about yourself?”

Y/N crossed her arms. “In what way?”

“That you were average? Not destined for good things? That you didn’t deserve proper happiness?”

“I was satisfied with life in Winchester.”

“Satisfaction and happiness are two vastly different things.”

It seemed like he wanted to take a step forward but stopped himself, taking a deep breath before settling against the window again. Y/N pushed slightly away from the wall, standing closer to the light.

“It’s like the whole thing with me and Emilia again, innit? There were times when I was happy with her, but I think that’s more to do with the fact that I knew she was there. I could always rely on her. But bottom line is that being with her didn’t bring me instant and constant happiness like-“ He stopped himself, as if remembering there were things he wasn’t supposed to say. “She didn’t make me happy like she should’ve. I was satisfied.”

“Isn’t being at peace good? If someone or something brings you peace, isn’t that good?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders some. “There are different kinds, though. Your life and the people in it should be able to make you feel something, you know? Not being excited to see someone or to be somewhere or to do something, it does nothing. You don’t grow if you’re satisfied ‘cause you’re not moving, you’re not evolving.”

“Being happy isn’t a constant, though. You can’t always be happy, sometimes you’re just… not.”

“How boring would life be if you felt the same way, did the same things, saw the same people every single day? How boring would it be without change?”

Y/N felt herself smiling. “You’re a lighthouse keeper, you do the same things every single day.”

“I don’t, though,” he said. “I might be stuck here in St Ives most of the time, but I never do the same thing every single day. And besides…” He trailed off, biting his bottom lip some. “Besides life’s been anything but ordinary lately.”

Y/N glanced at her arms in front of her. “I… I hated change.”

“You don’t anymore?”

“To a degree,” she said. “I’m happy with the decision I made to leave my old life behind, but now… now I don’t really know what to do. I’m going to apply for University, but what if I’m too old? I’m 25, way older than everyone else there will be, and I… I dunno. I feel like I have to figure myself out all over again now that I don’t have my parents around me anymore, it’s like I don’t know who I am. Once this summer is over and I leave St Ives – ‘cause St Ives, you, and everyone here, are genuinely what’s keeping me together right now – I… I dunno how I’m going to survive. Will I have myself when I don’t even know who I am? Is it too late for me to get a fresh start? Who- Who will be there to help guide me in the right direction if I have no one in my life?”

There was no trace of hesitation as Harry said, voice deep and low, “You’ll always have someone.”

“Will I? I feel lost, Harry.” She blinked a few times, hoping to prevent possible tears from falling. “I’m so lost. Where do I even go from here? I don’t and can’t go back to how life used to be, where do I go?”

“Don’t go.”

She glanced up at him, the lamp beside them suddenly coming to life with a massive blink. Though the suddenness of the light had scared her, Harry’s words had been what got her heart racing. The light blinked in the direction of the sea, the other side from where they stood so Y/N couldn’t see it directly, only the dark back that was facing the mainland. However, she could not care less for the light as Harry stared back at her, right into her eyes, for the first time in what seemed like forever. She felt herself relax at the sight of him, but his words still reverberated through her head, making it spin slightly.

“What?”

“Don’t go,” he repeated, stepping away from the window. “Stay.”

Her arms fell to her sides. “You… You want me to stay in St Ives?”

It took a few seconds, as if he was building up the courage to say something he thought was obvious, but, seemingly, not so obvious to Y/N. “Yes.”

“But I…” She trailed off, blinking a few times as if she were trying to regain composure. “You’ve never said.”

“’Cause I’ve always been afraid of your reaction.”

“My… my reaction?”

“If it would scare you.”

“Why would that scare me?”

“’Cause someone telling you they care for you more than… more than they care for anyone else, and you not feeling the same way… I don’t want to scare you.”

Y/N was sure she had not heard him right. And if she had, she must have misinterpreted his statement, because surely he had not just said what she thought he said. The light blinked its usual pattern, lighting up the darkening bell room as the two just stood staring at one another.

“I thought you only felt like that for Emilia.”

Harry frowned, shaking his head as if what he’d just heard was absurd. “Emilia?”

“Well, then… then that you used to feel like that for her, that you two used to be close. I’ve been jealous of that, after all.”

“You’ve been jealous?” Harry’s eyes were wide, intently staring at Y/N as she continued to explain. “How do you mean?”

“Dunno…” Y/N said, knowing that she probably sounded like an absolute plonker. “You’ve always seemed pretty caught up on her. That you still have feelings for her.”

He studied her, mouth falling shut as he let his eyes scan her face, saying a soft, “I don’t.”

“But- But why do you blush when she’s around, then?”

At the mention of him blushing, a red colour appeared in his cheeks and he glanced away for a few seconds, running his hands through his hair. Y/N could not help a small smile on her lips, biting at the corner of her mouth to stop herself from doing so.

“I get flustered, don’t I? It’s not like I can help it,” Harry explained, gesturing at his face as he took a few steps forward. “She’s my ex, it’s weird being around her.”

“You act so shy, though. Isn’t that how you are around people you’re nervous in front of?”

“I acted like that with you as well, did you notice?”

Y/N felt a breath hitch in her throat, something about Harry admitting this made her entire body hot. Part of her did not believe this could be true, it was just too good, while the other urged her to keep going, see what happened next. She shook her head slightly. “I-I dunno.”

“I was so bloody nervous,” Harry said, chuckling a little to himself. “It was genuinely hard for me to form sentences ‘cause I didn’t want to make a right twit of myself, yeah? I just… I wanted to impress you so bad, but it was so hard.”

She pressed her lips together, heart hammering hard, hands feeling clammy with anticipation.

“I’m not nervous around you anymore, though.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I feel safe with you now. I don’t care that I make a fool of myself ‘cause you won’t mind.”

She smiled a little. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He gestured around him with a soft jerk of his chin. “You’re a light room.”

Y/N wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but stopped herself when their eyes met again. She wanted to walk to him, to be near him.

“It’s like…” Harry started, pausing for a few seconds before he went on. “It’s weird being around someone you thought meant a lot to you and you realise they didn’t. But with you… that’s…” He glanced at the ground again, tugging at the hem of his red jumper. “It’s different.”

She continued to just look at him, afraid that if she said anything he would stop.

“It’s… it’s like I… like-“ He cleared his throat, suddenly blushing uncontrollably, and it was as if he knew how ridiculous he must look because he let out a small laugh. “You were the prettiest woman I’d ever seen and I wanted to impress you, I didn’t want to embarrass myself and have you not want to be around me anymore.”

His eyes fell to her feet, moving up over her bare legs, landing on her tummy as he continued to find the words lost somewhere within him. He took a deep breath.

“I’m not good with words, so explaining how much you mean to me is hard, but I know that I… that you…” He drifted off again, meeting her eyes. “You were the person I wanted to be in the arms of at Terraland, when I was all shaken up ‘cause of that ride, not Emilia, no one else but you. And you’re the only person I want to be in the arms of right now, tomorrow, and probably every single day after that. I like it when you hold me, when you’re around. That’s all I know.” His eyes fell to her lips for a second, meeting her eyes as if he remembered that was forbidden territory. She had said as much. “I like it when we touch, everything seems at once much simpler but also so much more important and grander because of you.”

Biting her bottom lip, Y/N walked closer to Harry, and at the sight, he took two more steps closer as well, meeting right beside the lamp that was still occasionally lighting up the bell tower and the entire coast along with it. Standing right there in front of one another, something that could only resemble magic passed between them and circled around them, drawing them closer to one another. They were meant to be close, meant to be right here, with one another. It was wrong to be anywhere else than with Harry. She didn’t feel as lost when he was here; there was a sense of reason, of purpose, when they were together that was so great to the point of invention, there was no other way of explaining it. This, what was between then, was beyond anything. Limitless, unfathomable, immeasurable; infinite.

“I want to touch you,” Y/N said, her voice almost a whisper as she, once again, glanced at his lips.

“Touch me. Please.”

Slowly and gentler than she had ever been before, she placed her hand to his cheek, thumb stroking over the slight stubble before she slid the tips of her fingers to the back of his jaw and then forth again. He closed his eyes, leaning into her.

“Please, touch me,” he repeated, the breath of his pleading words falling against her hot wrist. “Never stop.”

She studied his face, loving the calming effect she had on him because it matched the one he had on her. Though he made her heart race and had her overthinking everything, he calmed her down and made her feel at peace. Exhilarated her and confused her; overwhelmed her and elated her. He made her feel everything all at once, and Y/N thought at last, wasn't that what love really was? When you felt like the feelings inside your body transcended everything, made you see everything around you in a new light? When it changed your world for the better?

Y/N’s hand slid down Harry’s cheek and his neck, and at the change, he opened his eyes to look at her again. She took another step forward, leading him toward her as her eyes fell to his lips, meeting his eyes as they hovered dangerously close to one another. The light blinked on and Y/N pressed her lips against Harry’s. They melted into each other instantly. Harry placed one of his hands to her neck and the other one to her hip, bringing her closer. She breathed against him, the rest of the world around them disappearing completely as they drew out the kiss.

His tongue traced her bottom lip, making a shiver run up her spine. Gently, she slipped her tongue into his mouth, making sure she did not overwhelm him, that it was okay. He instantly complied, stroking his against hers, swirling his around hers sensually, lighting Y/N on fire. She moaned into him, gripping at the hair at the back of his neck as their mouths opened wider, welcoming more of the other to enter and entrance them completely. She ran her other hand over his chest, wrapping it around him, while Harry’s slid down along her back, stopping just before he reached her bum, squeezing her a little as if he wasn’t mentally ready to go down there just yet tonight. The bell room continued to illuminate up, shining its guiding light out across the ocean, helping sailors home and to their final destinations. However, neither Y/N nor Harry could even remember where they really were as they continued to kiss one another. She felt his moan on her tongue, a slight whimper that he had not been able to hold back as they deepened the kiss. They instantly got more frantic; desperate, harder. She pushed against him more forcefully, wanting to taste and feel all of him.

For an instant, and what felt like for the first time since they had known each other, Harry took control. He pressed her against the bar with the lamp, keeping one hand on her neck, thumb at her chin, and the other on her waist. She gasped at the suddenness, her entire body aflame as Harry kissed along her jaw, tilting her head as to get better access. She could not help the contented sigh that left her lips, pushing him even closer to her, wrapping her left leg around his right one as to ensure he did not step away from her.

He whispered her name against her neck, leaving wet kisses along the skin that was exposed and that he could reach without removing the high neck of her jumper. He kissed the tip of her jaw, sucking lightly, and she could not hold back her whimper. It seemed to have had an effect on him that she herself had not anticipated, yet absolutely adored. Between them, pressed against her tummy, she could feel him. It seemed to have startled him as well, maybe not having anticipated it to happen that quickly, but he kissed along her neck again, seemingly not really caring anymore. He wanted her to know just how much power she held over him. He came back to her face, lips hovering above hers. They panted against one another, not letting each other go as the rain outside picked up, thunder rumbling in the distance, and the light that Y/N was pressed up again kept lighting up the ocean ahead.

“I, uhm…” Harry stared down, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry ‘bout… that.”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head slightly. “Don’t apologise for that.” She brought her leg further up, twining it more around him to bring him closer. As if it was instinctual, Harry reached for her thigh, helping her bring it up to his waist. She let out another sigh, loving how he drew closer to her in the process of yanking her leg up higher. Their eyes met again, and she leaned her forehead against his.

“I thought we agreed on a ‘no kissing rule’,” Harry mumbled, lips brushing against hers as he spoke. “I thought you didn’t want to kiss me.”

“I want to kiss you; I just don’t want it to be part of our fake relationship.”

“This has nothing to do with that.” He moved to kiss her again and spoke against her lips. “I need to ask you, though, before anything more happens.”

She watched him, the sight of him slightly blurry but she did not care.

“There’s… There’s a bed… downstairs if you'd be interested in… you know…”

She smiled.

“In what?”

Harry smiled, giggling a little as he leaned his forehead against hers again. “I don’t want there to be mixed signals, so I’m just… I’m just gonna fucking say it.”

“Say it.”

He gripped her knee tighter. “Do you want to have sex with me? ‘Cause I… I mean, it’s not the sexiest way to go about it, just asking like that, but I… it’s very obvious that I would like- very much like to… you know, if you’d like. I don’t want to-“

She chuckled and Harry stopped talking, smiling at her. “I think asking is very sexy. Mixed signals aren’t sexy.”

“You’re right.”

She leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his lips.

“Flower,” he mumbled, voice rasping ever so slightly, making heat instantly pool between her thighs. “Would you let me make you feel good?”

“Do you think you can?”

Harry met her eyes, a crooked smile coming to his lips. “I’ve had no complaints before.”

“No complaints from Emilia?”

A slight furrow appeared between his brows before it lifted, his smile came back and it got wider. “You really were jealous of her.”

“She got to be close to you.”

“Well,” Harry said, eyes fluttering to her lips. “You’re close to me now. You’re closer to me than anyone’s ever been before.”

Y/N squeezed him closer, biting her lip before she said, “Yes.”

“You… you want to go downstairs?”

“Yes.”

Harry’s smile grew so wide it was hard for him to fight just how giddy he was getting at her words. He stepped away from her, taking her hand in his. They left the blinking bell room, climbing down the ladder, Harry securing the hatch before he turned to face Y/N again. Once they were in the near darkness of that room, they kissed again, desperate to feel one another again. This happened almost on every single floor – pressing each other up against a wall, needy to feel, to taste, to be close – as they could simply not help themselves.

Once they reached the floor, Y/N instantly recognised the door and where they were headed. On her first trip to the lighthouse, she had seen a bed in that room, the door had been half open, but Harry had closed it on their way down. Now, Harry opened it for her, letting her inside. It was tiny. A twin bed stood at the far end, its white sheets made neatly over it, while the desk – which stood perched right under a small window that was being attacked by harsh rain - was filled with photographs of Harry’s family. Him, Amos, Jessa, and Grace. There was a dresser with a vase on top, a bouquet of dead flowers in it that it seemed Harry had forgotten completely about.

Harry closed the door behind them. “This used to be my dad’s room. When it was stormy, he’d stay in here. The door sometimes opens on its own, logically I know it’s just a draught, but…” He shrugged his shoulders and Y/N knew what he meant.

Instead of focusing on that – because they could talk about this in the morning – Y/N said, “Kiss me.”

Harry wasted no time. He marched over to her, pressing his lips hard against hers as he started walking her backwards toward the bed. He let her lay down first, taking her rain boots off before she wiggled up to the top, watching as Harry crawled his way up to her, hovering his lips over hers as to tempt her. She tried to lean up to kiss him since he was taking too long, but he moved further away.

“Twat.”

He chuckled, grinning down at her. “How long do you think you can stand not kissing me?”

She brought her hand up to his neck, bringing him down towards her lips. They kissed again – finally. She felt Harry smile against her lips.

“Needy.”

“You were taking too long.”

“You just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

She wanted to roll her eyes at him, but he was correct. She wrapped her legs around him, bringing his core down onto hers. Harry groaned into her; his erecting cock pressed against her heat. He melted into her instantly, burying his hands in her hair.

“Neither can you,” she whispered back, making Harry let out a breathy chuckle.

“I also just want to make it clear,” he said against her lips. “If anything I do is not working, doesn’t do anything for you, doesn’t feel good, or if you want to try something new, a new position or anything like that, tell me, yeah?”

She smiled, nodding her head as they kept kissing. “Yeah. Same goes for you.”

“Do you have a favourite position?”

Y/N froze a little, thinking to herself and blushing when Harry looked down at her.

“What?” he asked.

“I’ve… only ever really done two.”

“Two… positions?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fine, did you enjoy them?”

“Yeah, I did. Sex was never really been about enjoyment as much as it was about closeness.”

Harry furrowed his brows. “You should enjoy sex, Y/N.”

“I know, I know. I just… I used to set fire to myself to keep others warm. I realised that was not what I should be doing, which is why I ended up in St Ives. With you. Here.”

Harry leaned down again, pressing a lingering and deep kiss to her lips. “You will enjoy yourself and feel real fucking good tonight, yeah? We’ll find something that works for both of us.”

She smiled. “Time will tell.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I’ll feel real fucking good.”

Harry halted a little as he heard that word slip from her lips. He had never heard it before. She felt the effect it had on him against her. “I’ll show you, flower.”

He reached down to the hem of her jumper and the two got it off her, throwing it to the floor before they started kissing again. She wrapped her legs around him again, resting her heels at the top of his bum, urging him closer to her. Slowly and deliberately, Harry grinded against her, revealing them both of a small fraction of pleasure, increasing the anticipation that was building in the air around them. Hard against her most delicate spot. She felt a desperate need to reach for him, to feel him right there, as ready for her as she was for him, but she liked this much better. Feeling him moan against her, the slow waves of his hips as he stroked his growing erection against the heat between her legs that was aching. His promise lingered in the back of her head, making her nipples perk at the thought. You will enjoy yourself and feel real fucking good tonight.

Harry’s hand slipped down the front of her white summer dress, lingering over her breast where he felt her already hard nipple. He squeezed her breast, bringing what he could of the nipple between his index and middle finger, squeezing lightly as he started kissing down her jaw. An uncontrollable moan left her mouth as he kissed her neck, chest, between her covered breasts. She felt hot all over as he kissed his way down, leaving no spot untouched by his swollen lips. He reached her thighs, kissing up her right one, leaving wet spots that got cold in the crisp air of the lightkeeper room.

“Turn over,” he said, sitting up on his knees to make the process easier for her.

She did as he told her to without hesitation. Again, he leaned over her, nose nuzzling her hair as he kissed her exposed shoulder. Each one of the kisses he trailed down her shoulder place, and back felt like a declaration of love; felt like a promise of forever, of safe keeping. Right in that moment, she realised she had never felt more appreciated or more turned on. She felt so seen, so important, as Harry kept kissing her back, sucking on her skin, humming moans of absolute delight into her that made goosebumps appear all over her. He reached for the zipper of her dress, kissing her shoulder before he whispered, “Okay if I undress you?”

“Please.”

Harry unzipped her dress, leaving a lingering kiss to her shoulder as he shoved both the straps off her shoulders. She took them off, letting the dress hang loosely over her breasts. Just because she felt like it, she lifted her arse off the bed, pressing it against Harry’s hard-on. It took him off guard and he gasped a little into her ear, but quickly took a grip around her waist. He pressed down hard on her, parting her bumcheeks as his protruding cock could now be seen, and felt, outside his denim shorts.

“Fuck,” he breathed as he grinded against her. His hands slipped down further, hovering over her centre, laying a slight pressure on her over her dress and knickers that was exactly what Y/N needed right then.

“Harry,” she whimpered, feeling him moan at her utterance.

“Dreamed about you saying my name like that,” he mumbled, kissing her shoulder again. “Sound even fucking better than I could’ve imagined.”

He placed more pressure on her, making her gasp and throw her head back slightly, leaning it against Harry’s beside her. They grinded against one another, absolutely lost in this seductive dance that they would have no problem doing forever. Panting a little, Harry kissed her shoulder again, knowing that they could not go on like that, no matter how much they wanted, because he would surely not be able to handle much of it before finishing. The heat between Y/N’s legs was excruciating, she could barely take it as Harry pulled her dress completely off her, exposing her naked back to him.

“On your knees.”

She did as he demanded, getting on her knees in the bed as Harry positioned himself right behind her. He ran his hands over her wet knickers, wanting to properly feel all of her now that he finally had her there. It sent a lightening up her spine, making her moan as he reached her bud, flicking it slowly. He kissed the outside of her knickers before he ran his tongue over her, the hot wetness of him on her made her gasp, sweet torture that she both welcomed and hated. Hooking his fingers under the hem of her knickers, he slid them over her bum and down her legs, and. Again, she felt cold as her wet skin was exposed to the chill room they were in, Harry’s ragged breaths didn’t exactly make it better. She whimpered slightly as she felt his breath go from cold to hot, she could feel the heat of his body radiating against her cunt and bum. With help of her hands, she raised, looking over her shoulder at him to see him there, only his eyes visible as he hovered in front of her.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered, planting a kiss to her bum before he went back to the place she had just been. “I’ll make you come, flower.”

“Actions speak louder than words,” she said, panting slightly in anticipation.

Harry smiled at her, she thought she saw a slight wink before he hovered back over her centre. She was about to tell him to just get on with it when she felt his tongue, hot and wet and hard, between her folds. She gasped again, closing her eyes at the impact. He licked up between her folds first, making sure to taste every last bit of her as he had thought about this for so long. He started off with a light pressure on her clit, licking around it, sometimes over it, driving Y/N absolutely insane. He slowly built up the pressure, making sure he did not overwhelm her, staying focused on the clit the entire time. He wrapped his lips around it, sucking lightly, something that made Y/N throw her head back, letting go of a loud moan that had Harry humming into her.

“Yes,” she gasped, fists buried in the white sheets under her.

He let go of her bud, licking up around the clit again, then over it, flicking it quickly while tipping his head to the side. She bit her bottom lip, looking over her shoulder at Harry as he continued to eat her out, eyes closed as if he was eating the feast of his life. Once again, he wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking lightly at first and building his pressure. Whimpering and panting, Y/N kept looking at Harry, the sight of him behind her like that, doing everything in his power to make her feel good – and succeeding – was so bloody hot.

When she had made her way up here today in the rain, she had never in her wildest dream this was where she would end up. On all fours, Harry seated behind her, eating her out. She had thrown away any hope of him even feeling a smudge of what she felt for him, but tonight, up in the light room, everything changed. Everything they said, and how they opened up to one another. She felt quite literally euphoric; static with adoration and completely engrossed in everything he did.

Harry moved up, slipping his tongue inside her hole, hands sliding down her thighs as he penetrated her. She swallowed thickly, biting at her bottom lip before she met his eyes.

“Doesn’t do anything.”

“Hm?” He moved up, eyes wide as he licked around his lips. “My tongue in you?”

“Yeah. Feels like you’re mushing mash into me.”

Harry laughed, resting his forehead against her bum as he shook, she chuckled as well.

“Don’t hold back,” he said.

“Sorry.”

“No, I’m glad you told me, flower.”

“Also,” she said as he started licking her again, she gasped slightly. “Can we switch? I want to watch you properly.”

Harry blinked slowly, smiling at her as he emerged. “Gladly.”

She turned around, placing herself on her back, Harry stopped to take her in, eyes gliding over her naked body in front of him. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deeply as he ran his hands over her tits, squeezing them just hard enough before he lowered them and himself. He positioned himself exactly where he’d been, spreading her legs wider for him.

He sucked on her clit again, this time pushing a finger into her. She instantly moaned loudly, burying her hands in his hair. Harry wrapped an arm around her thigh, holding her in place as he continued to lick at her clit, curving his finger ever so slightly as to make her feel the best she possibly could. She squirmed under him, her orgasm coming on much faster in this position than the last, streaming down her legs, her torso, towards the centre between her thighs where Harry was sucking at her most sensitive spot, pounding his finger into her. She tugged at his hair as she could feel it coming on closer.

“Harry,” she moaned and at once he reached up outside her thigh, cupping her breast in his large hand.

He ran a thumb over her nipples as he flicked at her clit, finger still buried inside her, watching as she started moving and panting and whimpering more and more. He moved his finger faster and sucked her bud, which was exactly what Y/N needed, she cried out, moving her hips with Harry’s fingers. He squeezed her breast, and she met his eyes, seeing his dark green eyes under his long lashes, drinking in the sight of her. He suddenly hit a spot that had fires erupt in her lower tummy. Y/N gasped and let out another loud moan, whimpering under Harry as he licked and fucked her through her orgasm. She did not take her eyes off him and he did not look away from her, ordering her to keep watching till she was completely down from her euphoria.

Y/N was sprawled out panting, smiling as Harry came up to hover above her. She took a grip of his neck, kissing him deeply. He tasted of her.

“I’ll go get a condom in the cottage,” he mumbled. “I-If that’s alright with you, of course. We don’t have-“

“-I want to.”

“Alright. Brilliant.” He stumbled as he got up from the bed in a hurry. “I’ll-I’ll be right back, yeah? Don’t move! I’ll-“ He looked over his shoulder as he stood in the open doorway, a huge sigh leaving his lips as his eyes wandered over her naked body. He shook his head slightly, letting out a chuckle of disbelief. “Fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled before running down the stairs and out of the lighthouse.

It did not take long for him to come back, condom in hand and panting as if he’d been sprinting back and forth. He closed the door again, placing the condom on the corner of the desk beside the bed, crawling back over her again.

“Been away from this for too long,” he mumbled, running a hand over her curves. “And your tits are bloody fantastic, by the way.”

She laughed at him, swatting his shoulder as he reached for the hem of his jumper and tee shirt, bringing both over the top of his head and throwing them to the floor.

“I’d been looking forward to doing that,” Y/N said.

“What, undress me?”

“Yes.”

His eyes seemed to darken a bit. “Take off the rest.”

And she did. Keeping eye contact, she reached for the front of his denim shorts, undoing the button and unzipping him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the slight pressure and caress of her fingers against his anticipating and hard prick seemed to do more to him than she thought it would. She hooked her finger around the band of his shorts and boxers, wiggling them down his hips till they were far enough down for him to do the rest. One hand supporting his weight, he used the other one to help her take his clothes off, but her eyes fell to his cock immediately.

It wasn’t like she had thought of it before. Yes, she might’ve had some dreams and daydreams involving Harry and her doing some very filthy things, but she hadn’t really let herself think about his prick. But there it was, and she felt absolutely giddy with anticipation now. She wanted to have proper sex with him; she wanted it so, so bad.

Harry reached for the condom, tearing it open and putting it on, hand sliding down his shaft and to the pubic hair at the very bottom. Seeing the slight trail from his navel and down to it made her mouth water.

“You alright?” Harry asked, that crooked smile on his lips making Y/N’s cheeks heat up. She was already flustered all over, she did not need him looking at her like that. He knew she had been looking and now he was taking the piss. As usual.

“How do you want me?” he asked, voice husky.

She bit her bottom lip, cocking her head to the side. “I dunno.”

He groaned, hovering closer to her lips. She felt him against her sensitive spot, making her gasp. “What can I have?”

She tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. “I want to be on top.”

That crooked smile came forth again, his dimples deepening. “Yes, ma’am.”

Taking a grip of her waist, he rolled around, making her lay on top of him. His head was on the pillow, right where hers had just been, so Y/N sat up. She took a grip of him, making Harry’s lips part at the impact. He gripped her thighs that were straddling either side of his hips, squeezing her lightly as encouragement. She sat up, bringing him to her, sliding him over the wetness he had caused. He let out a shaky breath, looking to be just as nervous as Y/N felt. She slid down onto him slowly, Harry’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and Y/N gasped again.

“Harry,” she said, a little breathless already. “I’ve… I’ve never been on top before.”

He smiled. “That’s fine, here-“ He placed his hands on her hips, urging her to move. She followed his lead, biting her bottom lip hard as her clit rubbed against his pelvic area. “That’s it.”

She continued to grind against him, moving her hips as he was instructing her. Placing her hands on his chest for support, she started moving a little hard, with a little more purpose, Harry’s hands on her thighs a grounding and intense pressure.

“Keep doing that,” he encouraged, letting a moan slip from between his swollen lips. She rolled her hips, loving the filthy sounds they made as the rain kept on crashing against the window. They continued to look into each other’s eyes, not daring to look away as if it would bring them back to reality. Because this was too good to be true. Never before in her life had Y/N felt like this. She felt powerful as she rode Harry, felt a sort of strength in her that had never been present before. It had never been like this with Dominic; it had never been this intense. He hadn’t demanded she order him around, hadn’t been willing or suggested to try new things, hadn’t really done it like this. Harry looked at her as if the world revolved around her alone. As if the centre of the solar system was right here, and he was watching the sun about to eclipse, watching one of the most beautiful and magnificent moments in time. He gripped into her with feverish hands, coming with suggestions every once in a while, always letting her know just how good she was making him feel.

“That’s right,” he moaned as she moved her hips in circles. “Right there. Don’t stop.”

That might just have been the sexiest thing she had ever heard along with his moans. She continued doing exactly what she was doing, feeling her entire body heating up as she could sense her second orgasm that evening. Thinking about it, she wasn’t sure she had ever come twice in one night before. Maybe it was Harry, maybe it was the moment, maybe it was the fact that her and Harry were finally letting their guard down, admitting that there was something else between them besides their fake relationship. People who fake dated each other did not kiss like that, they did not have sex, they did not look at each other like it was all they wanted to do for the rest of their lives. No, this was more than what they had let on. Way more.

Harry sat up, making Y/N fall against his chest as he bent his knees ever so slightly. He placed one hand on her bum and the other on the mattress behind him as to help him move more swiftly. With each stroke over him, Harry thrusted back into her, rubbing at her bud each time and making everything around her seem much more colourful.

“Like that do you?” Harry asked, mouth parted as he panted into her wet lips.

She nodded her head, taking a grip of his shoulders to better move her hips. They moved together, looking into each other’s eyes as the rest of the world disappeared completely around them. The rain, the thunder, the buzzing of the light from upstairs turning on and turning off, it was all tuned out. Harry leaned down, placing one of his hands on her left breast to kneed it seductively. He kissed from her collarbone and down to her breast, sucking and nibbling lightly on her skin as he made his way to her nipple. Sucking it lightly, he looked up at Y/N who was squeezing his shoulders, telling him to keep going. Electricity shot from her tits and down her spine, heating up the fire that was building in her core. He closed his eyes as he sucked and kissed her tits, humming into her and making her moan time and time again. It felt so fucking good. Though she moved a little awkwardly, though they made some sounds together that made both of them laugh and heat up, though they were still trying to figure out what the other liked, this was still the best either had ever had.

As he was closing in on his finish, Harry wrapped both arms around her, bringing her closer to him. They kissed, desperate pleads and whimpers left each of their mouths as everything started setting on fire. Harry moved his hips with her, she tried to continue to move hers along with him, her hips shaking a little with the effort. Harry’s lips parted completely all of a sudden, a furrow appearing between his brows, and she felt it. He twitched against her and she continued to grind her hips, moving him through his orgasm. Looking deep into her eyes, he seemed to completely melt away when she kissed his bottom lip, sighing against him as she herself started getting closer to her second orgasm as well.

“I’ll help you,” Harry said. “I’ll use my hand, if you want?”

“Yes, please.”

He removed his cock from inside her, meeting her eyes as his thumb circled her clit again. Y/N gasped, gripping both sides of Harry’s neck. His lips parted at the pressure, grinning up at her. He brought his other hand forward, slipping his index and ring finger into her while his other thumb continued to flick at her clit. At once she moaned, looking into his eyes as this brought her closer to her climax, fast. She moved with his hand, moaning louder and louder as the fire inside her tummy intensified, feeling even greater than the time before. Harry curled his finger just as he leaned down, sucking on her nipple again, looking up at her through hooded eyes.

Everything exploded and she threw her head back, unable to stop herself. The sound of Harry pounding into her at a fast speed, wet and filthy, echoed through the room with her exclamation of euphoria. Harry continued till she was completely done, watching her as she closed her eyes, breathing heavily above him. Gently, he removed his fingers from inside her, bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean just as she opened her eyes again.

Y/N felt at peace. Her heart was still thundering away inside her chest, her soul was still intermingled with Harry’s, and they would not let go of one another. They didn’t need that lamp, they didn’t need a lighthouse, they could light up everything on their own. She was sure that at some point tonight, while their bodies grinded together and worked toward climax, they had lit up like the sun. What was going on between them, the cellular reaction, the emotional connection, the physical attraction, it all equated to something. It had to. What this was, was greater than either of them individually. This would forever be marked on their souls. Meeting Harry, spending this summer with him, it had shaped her into a brand-new person. That was, Y/N reminded herself, what love was all about after all. Change for the better.

Harry got a cloth not long after, helping clean Y/N up before they both slipped under the duvet in the lightkeeper room, squished together as the bed was way smaller than what they were used to. Harry ran his hand from Y/N’s cheek and up to her shoulder, his eyes following his hand’s movement.

“I fucking worship you, Y/N,” Harry mumbled, the rain still pouring outside. He caressed his fingers gently over her jawline.

She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around him. They both closed their eyes and Y/N felt sleep coming closer. She felt so incredibly content, cuddled up to Harry and with the storm raging outside. A couple a seconds away from falling asleep, Harry started whispering against her forehead.

“Play fair with my heart, yeah?” It seemed like he thought she was asleep. That it was safe to say this. “’Cause I’m gonna fall in love with you. You don’t have to love me back, but I’m telling you now, ‘cause it’s inevitable, at one point, I’ll love you. Madly, truly, completely. Just… please… break my heart gently.”

Before she was able to form any sort of reply, she fell asleep.

A/N: If you wonder what the melody Harry wrote for that day spent in St Austell with Y/N and Gracie sounds like, I imagine it goes something like this 🥰

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