#it's just a shame that most of my memories are from like........august to present

[nerdallwritey]

end of the year asks!

9, 10, 14, 17!

WOOHOO!!!!!

Questions found here.

9. Best month for you this year?

Lol I'm glad you guys are so interesting in my favorite month! I answered here, but November was my fave this year!

10. Something that made you cry this year?

What the hell, are you trying to show everybody how sensitive I am or something?? (Kidding!) - I'm trying to think of something joyful that may have made me cry........ movies for sure make me cry - I cried most recently at Wicked, I think. What else............I said it in a previous post but I have the memory of a goldfish so I'm having trouble remembering any cries that weren't from the last few weeks 😅 OH! Here's an anecdote where I laughed really hard (maybe it made me cry? Can't remember, but I know it made me laugh SO hard) - I was playing Fortnite with my sister and @kermitwazowski, and we were playing music together, and we were so caught up in the moment that none of us noticed when a car pulled up and started shooting at us 😂 I'd post a video of it, but I don't want to dox usernames. But please trust me, it was so funny and we were screaming absolute bloody murder 😂

14. Favorite book you read this year?

Ah, I was going through my goodreads earlier and Khy, you know most of my year has been spent reading the dreaded Throne of Glass series, but I DID enjoy Bride by Ali Hazelwood. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but unfortunately I'm VERY into fated mates and protectiveness and all that jazz and WHOOPS! I had a blast reading this one. It wasn't a huge thinker, it was just hot and sweet and romantic which was exactly what I needed at the time. Here's the description via goodreads:

Misery Lark, the only daughter of the most powerful Vampyre councilman of the Southwest, is an outcast—again. Her days of living in anonymity among the Humans are over: she has been called upon to uphold a historic peacekeeping alliance between the Vampyres and their mortal enemies, the Weres, and she sees little choice but to surrender herself in the exchange—again... Weres are ruthless and unpredictable, and their Alpha, Lowe Moreland, is no exception. He rules his pack with absolute authority, but not without justice. And, unlike the Vampyre Council, not without feeling. It’s clear from the way he tracks Misery’s every movement that he doesn’t trust her. If only he knew how right he was…. Because Misery has her own reasons to agree to this marriage of convenience, reasons that have nothing to do with politics or alliances, and everything to do with the only thing she's ever cared about. And she is willing to do whatever it takes to get back what’s hers, even if it means a life alone in Were territory…alone with the wolf.

17. Post a picture from the end of the year

Here's a silly one: for my birthday, my roommate got me an adorable little Astarion plush that I've been carrying with me throughout our apartment for a few weeks now. I also have an Astarion scented candle from Etsy and I was like......... "And well, what if Astarion smelled like Astarion?" SO for the past few days, I've been putting my little Astarion in a pot with the open candle (which I refuse to burn) and making him smell like Astarion 😂 It wears off after a few hours, but I felt like an absolute GENIUS when I did it the first time. Nobody tell my roommate why I've had our big pot out for the past few days............

[aedesluminis]

Simonne Évrard's speech of 8 August 1793 in the National Convention

"I am not here to ask you the favors of cupidity that claims and craves for indigence. Marat’s widow just needs a grave. Before I get to the relieving end of my tormented life, I come to ask you for justice towards the new attacks committed against the memory of the most intrepid and outraged of the people’s defenders. These monsters, how much gold did they lavish! How many hypocritical pamphleteers were paid to put his name to shame! With such hateful rage, they tried so hard to give him a colossal political existence and a detestable celebrity, in order to dishonor the people’s cause that he proudly defended. This day, still stained by his blood, they persecute him to his grave; some other day, they still dare to murder his memory. They are even trying to depict the monster, who pierced his chest with the parricide iron, as an intriguing heroine. In this circle we see the vilest of them all, the Carra, the Ducos, the Dulaure, the shameless praises in their periodicals to encourage their peers to slaughter what is left of the defenders of liberty. I do not talk about the vile Pétion who, in Caen, during a meeting with his accomplices, dared to say that the murder was a virtue.

Soon enough the foolish treachery of the conspirators, who pretend to honor the civic virtues, will make the infamous publications grow, where the horrible murder is presented in favorable ways and the martyr of the patrie is disfigured by the most hideous convulsions.

But here it is the most wicked of their schemes: They bribed some foolish writers who shamelessly usurp his name and tarnish his principles to immortalize the empires of lies which he was victim of! Cowards! First, they flatter the people’s pain to get their praise, then they speak the language of patriotism and morality so that the people believe to still be listening to Marat; but all of this is just to slander the most zealous defenders who have protected them. It is to preach, in Marat’s name, the exaggerations that his enemies attributed to him.

I denounce two men in particular, Jacques Roux and Leclerc, who claim to carry on his patriotic papers and make his shadow talk to insult his memory and to betray the people. After spouting revolutionary platitudes, they encourage the people to outlaw the government. It is in those occasions that they use his name to stain in blood the day of the 10th of August, because his sensitive soul, devastated by the sight of the crimes of tyranny and the uneasiness of humanity, sometimes let out some rightful curses towards the people’s oppressors and public leeches. They try to preserve the parricide lie that persecuted him and made him look like a foolish apostle of anarchy and chaos. And who are these men that claim his place? It is a priest, who the day after the faithful deputies triumphed over their cowardly enemies, came to insult the National Convention through a seditious and wicked speech. There is another man, no less perverse, who is associated with the mercenary furors of said impostor. What is important to remark is that these two men are the same who had been denounced by him at the Cordeliers’ club  just a few days before his death as people paid by our enemies to create public disorder and, on the same occasion, they were also formally expelled from this popular society. What is the aim of this perfidious faction that fuels these criminal intrigues? It is to vilify the people who honor the memory of the one who died for their cause. It is to slander all the friends of the patrie, whom it has designated as Maratists; to deceive all the French people across the whole republic, who gather for the reunion of August the 10th, by presenting them their perfidious writings, in which they preach the teaching of the very people’s representative they slaughtered. It is to cause disturbance in these solemn days through some disastrous catastrophe.

God! What will become of the people? If these men can usurp their trust! What is the deplorable condition of their intrepid defenders if death itself cannot avoid them the fury of their murderers! Legislators, for how long would you endure it if crime insulted virtue? Where does this privilege come from, of English and Austrian emissaries to trap public opinion, to give daggers to the defenders of our laws and to know the founding valor of our raising republic? If you let them go unpunished then I denounce them all here to the French people, to the universe. The memory of the martyrs of liberty and the heritage of the people; that of Marat is the only good deed left to me, I devote to his defense the last days of a languid life. Legislators, avenge the patrie, the honesty, the misfortune and the virtue, striking at the most cowardly of all the enemies.”

Original in French

I did the translation in English myself. Let me know if I made some mistakes or if some parts need revision!

Last edit: 31/10/23

[malinaa]

2023 WRITING REVIEW

tagged: no one i just wanted to do this and i forgot about it soz </3 tagging : board of directors i'd tag u here but this is mostly fic-based so sorree... anyway if u have already done this my b.... i wld like to see ur post tho @evcndiaz | @brimay | @usignedupforthis | @seek--rest | @posallys | @dustorangeheartssnowman | @adhd-merlin | @queerofthedagger

number of stories posted to ao3: 34 ±1 bc i updated a fic from a while back <3

word counted posted for last year: 90k... a feat (i wrote more but it was ofic so add like maybe 10k to that)

fandoms i wrote for: alex stern series, merlin, house md, pjo, spidey, hunger games, doctor who, & the grisha trilogy

pairings: merthur / arwen / mergwenthur / mergana, darlingstern, hilson, percabeth, petermj, everlark, tenrose, malina

stories with the most KUDOS: jealousy, jealousy (house md) with 522 <3 BOOKMARKS: except my life (merlin) with 137 <3 COMMENT THREADS: rip current (pjo) with 38 <3 *technically the answer to all of these is tested with torment but that's a fic i updated so i don't reallyyyyyy count it

work i'm most proud of (and why): thread of gold (arwen, bbc merlin) because i don't exactly post 2nd person fic and tbh most people HATEEEEE 2nd person fic AND i got people to enjoy it. HA!

work i'm least proud of (and why): coffee drinker (gen fic, bbc merlin) because it was just a promptfic and i didn't even really feel like posting it but i wrote it so i might as well yk?

share or describe a favorite review you received: any review that quotes a line but this one from judas kiss (arwen, bbc merlin)...

THIS. IS. WONDERFUL ❤️❤️❤️ *creates bookmark with gusto* I LOVE that you dug into what it might have been like for Gwen while she was under that enchantment! It was so creative to have her past memories blurring with glimpses of the present during the enchantment. I *felt* her disorientation, and it *hurt*. I felt so bad for Gwen all over again! 😭😭😭 That aspect of this story could have been a fantastic standalone one-shot in its own right, but noooo, you raised the bar and KEPT GOING and made it even better!!! I love that you showed Gwen and Merlin staying friends after Gwen becomes queen, and I love how she confides in him and how he immediately drops everything to go look for the offending piece of jewelry. The bit about Arthur’s incredulity at Merlin’s method of testing the enchantment was a great dash of humor, and I love that you fleshed out the concept of the enchantment to be something the others could experience so that they could truly *know* that Gwen had been innocent. And don’t even get me started on how much I love Arthur’s “Forgive me.” I love how he doesn’t think twice about humbling himself in front of everyone because his focus is solely on Gwen, consumed by the urgency of doing the right, honorable, and loving thing in that moment. You write Arthur and Gwen’s relationship so beautifully. 💕 Well done; I hate you (/affectionate) for all these feels. 🥰🫂👏

a time when writing was really, really hard: august through october... idek why i was literally in agony not writing

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: writing jj in spider-man: homewrecker because i've NEVER written him before (in my memory) and i was like. Hello .

a favorite excerpt of your writing: cannae lie i have a few favs so... killing is a love language (mergana, bbc merlin) Heartbreak snakes up his throat, constricting him at the sight of her. Morgana’s beauty is incontestable even like this, but her hatred wore her down to her bones. Gone were the full cheeks and rosy lips, the perfectly combed hair, the wardrobe that would put princesses to shame. Now, her face is sunken in, her hair a curled storm, her dress is merely black rags at this point. thread of gold (arwen, bbc merlin) Your father’s presence is larger than life. Larger than love. It looms. It casts shadows long enough to hide every hope and dream you’ve ever had for yourself. the boy and the girl (malina, the grisha trilogy) Memory fractures into shards. Real or not real? There’s Mal in the meadow. Mal buried beneath the hanging tree. Mal cold in her palms. There’s a sky darker than night. Her hands bloodied. A knife lodged in his heart. Her knife. His blood. Her fault. She killed him. She loves him. Her fault. Rest her head on his still chest. Her fault. No heartbeat. Her fault. No warmth. Cold light spilling from her palms. She killed him. The Saint’s only true worshipper martyred.

how did you grow as a writer last year: my hopes from last year was that i finally finish a multichap fic.... 😭 does a short 3-shot count. besides that i wrote more consistently and i'm finally Used to my writing style. i think.

how do you hope to grow this year: hell if i know if i could write something longer than 20k that'd be great 😭😭😭😭

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): the board.... @rosesau / @bipercabeth / @stellwood fnh...... i'd tag katie but she absconded from tumblr smh. anyway hi freaks n geeks

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: oh i don't even know. nothing ig

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: bro idek the more i write the more writing becomes fundamentally so hard to talk about ... sorreeee

any projects you're looking to starting (or finishing) this year: IF I DON'T FUCKING MAKE PROGRESS ON MY PLAY I WILL BASH MY HEAD INTO A WALL. THIS CAN'T KEEP HAPPENING. ATLAS AND VIVIAN YOU WILL BE WRITTEN ON THE PAGE INSHALLAH

[drosera-nepenthes]

A Royal Recluse: Princess Clotilde

Just at the time when, in consequence of the weakness and folly of the republican government, certain French Monarchists are looking to Prince Victor Napoleon Bonaparte as the possible savior of their country, the Prince, whose marriage to Princess Clementina of Belgium recently brought him before the public, was watching by the deathbed of his mother, Princess Clotilde of Savoy, who breathed her last on June 25. The story of this royal lady is a pathetic one and, apart from the interest that is attached to her as the mother of the imperial candidate to the French throne, her personal character was one of rare beauty.

She was the daughter of Victor Emmanuel II, first King of Italy, and of Adelaide, Archduchess of Austria, and was born at Turin on March 2, 1843. Her mother died in 1855, leaving five young children, of whom Clotilde was the eldest, the others being Humbert, the future King of Italy ; Amadeo, Duke of Aosta ; Maria Pia, the queen dowager of Portugal, and a son who died in childhood. The Queen of Sardinia (Victor Emmanuel had not at that time laid violent hands on the independent states of Italy) was an exemplary wife and mother, and her orphan daughters were carefully educated by the attendants whom she had placed about them.

Never was a princess more ruthlessly sacrificed to political interests than the eldest princess of Savoy. When a mere child of sixteen, Clotilde was chosen to cement the alliance between France and Sardinia, and was promised in marriage to Prince Napoleon Jerome, nephew of Napoleon I and first cousin Napoleon III, the reigning sovereign. Princess Clotilde was connected with the Bourbons, her very name was French and was given to her in memory of the French Princess Marie Clotilde, sister of Louis XVI, who married a King of Sardinia ; but allied as she was by close ties of blood to the Bourbons, she had nothing in common with the Bonapartes who occupied their place, and a more ill-assorted couple never existed than the middle-aged, violent, cynical and free-thinking Prince Napoleon and the daughter of the most ancient royal house in Europe, who traditions and surroundings were strictly conservative and religious. Their marriage took place at Turin on January 30, 1859. The bride was sixteen and the bridegroom thirty-seven. He had a handsome presence and was intelligent and well informed and well informed, but neither his private life nor his freely expressed opinions on public matters made him estimable or lovable. His attitude with regard to his cousin, the Emperor, was one of constant opposition, and it was reported that his anti-religious views led him to take part in the banquets organized by a group of free thinkers on Good Friday. Under the Second Empire the French Government was officially Catholic, and Prince Napoleon's hostile and aggressive attitude was pronounced ill-bred, if not worse. Throughout France he was distinctly unpopular.

The young bride, married to this unsympathetic nephew of the great Napoleon, probably had few illusions as to the sum of happiness that awaited her in her new home. There are still some old men living who remember her when she took possession of the Palais Royal, Prince Napoleon's Paris house.: a slight, pale girl, with fluffy, fair hair and bright eyes, not pretty but singularly attractive. Her high breeding stood her in good stead in the somewhat parvenu atmosphere of the Court of the Tuileries, she had a royal dignity all her own, and her simplicity of heart was combined with much quiet firmness. From the first she ordered her life according to the principles in which she had been educated. An early riser, even at the Palais Royal, she gave much time to prayer and to works of mercy, but her piety, says M. Emile Ollivier, a former minister of Napoleon II, “never made her tiresome or intolerant. She believed that the most useful sermon was the practice of the virtues that are taught by faith.” Her husband, although so widely apart from her, acknowledged her goodness. “Clotilde is a saint,” he sometimes said ; “if there were many like her, I believe I myself should end by becoming devout.”

When the disastrous war of 1870 brought terror and shame upon France, the Princess was in Paris. During that fatal month of August every day came news of a fresh defeat, and the revolution that was to break out on the 4th of September was already distinctly perceptible; the infuriated and terrified people made the imperial government responsible for the reverses that so keenly wounded their patriotic pride.

Princess Clotilde was alone at the Palais Royal ; her husband was with the army, her three children she sent to Switzerland, where Prince Napoleon had an estate; but she steadily refused to leave Paris while the Empress Eugénie remained at the Tuileries. There was not much personal sympathy between the two; it was Princess Clotilde's feeling of loyalty that chained her to the post danger as long as there was a semblance of imperial government in Paris.

In vain her husband wrote imperious messages bidding her join her children at Prangins; in vain her father sent the Marquis Spinela to Paris to escort her ; the Princess so yielding in everyday life, was unbending in her decision to remain at the palace as long as the lonely woman at the Tuileries was the nominal ruler of France ; she had shared the splendors of the Empire, and it went against her noble spirit to desert the Empress.

The letter this young woman, a stranger in a strange land, wrote to her father on August 25, 1870, has been quoted by the French papers. It is a right royal letter worthy of the daughter of kings:

“I am a French woman,” she says. “I cannot desert my country. When I married although so young, I knew what I was doing and if I did it, it was because I wished to do so. The interest of my husband, of my children and of my country require that I should remain here. The honor of my name, your honor, my dear father, and that of my country also demand it. Nothing will make me fail in what I believe to be my duty to the end... You know that the house of Savoy and fear have never gone together, and you would not wish that they should meet in my person.”

At last, when the Empress was driven from her palace by the mob, the Princess considered that she was free to follow, but how different was the departure of the two women!

The brilliant and beautiful sovereign, closely disguised, was only able to leave Paris owing to the assistance of her American dentist, Dr. Evans; her young cousin made her exit as a princess. In an open carriage, accompanied by her lady in waiting, she drove to the railway station in broad daylight. The excited people, awed by her courage and dignity, saluted her as she passed out of their sight, a truly royal and saintly figure.

Princess Clotilde lived for some years at Prangins, near Geneva, where she devoted herself to the education of her three children; then, when her husband was allowed to return to France, the difficulties of her married life were such that by mutual consent she retired to the Castle of Moncalieri, near Turin, with her young daughter. Here, in the home of her childhood, she spent nearly forty years. They were years of peace, largely marked by sorrow. Four times only did she emerge from her retreat, once in January 1878, when she heard that her father lay dangerously ill in Rome. She had suffered cruelly from the spoliation of the Holy See by the house of Savoy, and the remembrance of her father's part in the matter prompted her to fly to his bedside. On the way she heard that he was dead, and she sadly returned to Moncalieri. In 1891, she again started for Rome, this time to visit her husband, who lay dying at the Hotel de Russie. Those who saw the Princess during those solemn days can never forget her sweetness, earnestness and gentle patience. What passed between her and Prince Napoleon none can tell, but Cardinal Mermillod a frequent visitor to the sick room, professed himself satisfied, after two private interviews, that the dying man was fully conscious. The Princess, whose married life, it is well known, had been a via crucis, remained near him to the end, praying incessantly for the soul that probably owes its salvation to her intercession. Again in 1903 and in 1904, she left Moncalieri to visit her sister-in-law, Princess Mathilde Bonaparte, whose deathbed she attended.

Her life, as it neared the end became more and more that of a recluse. Her sons lived their own lives in Brussels and in Russia; her daughter, having married a Prince of Savoy, was near to her, and their visits, occasionally brought an element of joy into the silent castle. Last autumn, Prince Victor Napoleon's marriage to the Princess Clémentine of Belgium gladdened his mother's heart. It was celebrated at Moncalieri, and to those who attended the ceremony the most striking figure present was the slight, gray-haired lady, plainly dressed in black, whose eyes had the far-away look of those who are nearing the eternal shore. Even in the days of her youth Princess Clotilde's spirituality struck M. Emile Ollivier. It gave her, he says a singular insight into all questions that touch on right and wrong; she possessed the gifts of the true mystics, “who judge human affairs with a clearness and rectitude born of detachment.” Her chief link with the outer world during the long, silent years of old age was her love for the poor, to whom she gave royally, with a loving kindness that made her gifts more precious. Their grief was great when they heard of her death, and their prayers will follow her remains to the royal mausoleum of La Superga, near Turin, where the daughter of the Sardinian Kings sleeps with her ancestors.

America. United States, America Press, 1911.

[theasstour]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟐𝟔.𝟑𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

A/N: As you’re all aware, the Philippines was hit by a category 5-equivalent super typhoon two weeks ago. The typhoon is the world’s strongest storm this year and has brought with it unimaginable destruction. Here’s a link to #RescuePH where you can read more about what’s happening in the Philippines right now. There are also donation links there! If you don’t have the means to donate – which is very understandable - here’s a link to a video to watch on YouTube where all ad revenue goes to those affected by the typhoon! I have learned so much about Filipino culture these last few months writing ST as well as gotten to know some incredible Filipinos along the way, and the news of the typhoon has rocked me to my core. If you feel like, you can play the video in the background while you’re reading this massive chapter! Enjoy the final chapter 🧡💛 I love you all so much!

Sunday, 9 August

“It’s a beautiful day out,” Y/N’s mother said as she looked out over Porthminster Beach, leaning her head back a little and letting a salty breeze rustle up her grey hair. “Shame we’re spending it in the shade.”

Y/N glanced up at the roof overhead that offered rescue in the sweltering summer sun. Though she loved the sun as well and wanted to spend as much time in it as possible before summer ended soon, she knew that this chat would have her sweating enough without them sitting out of the shade the Porthminster Beach Café provided. Y/N looked down at her iced lemon tea, inhaling slowly as to calm herself. All day yesterday, Y/N had been too anxious to do anything but stay in her room and think about today. While in the lighthouse the day before yesterday, Y/N had sent her mother a text message asking if the two of them could talk without her father or Dominic being present. She knew her mother would’ve told them by now where she was and what she was doing, but she appreciated the fact that she had listened to Y/N’s request and not brought them.

“Didn’t get to go to a proper beach this summer,” Mrs McKay went on, eyes on the sea and where the waves crashed softly against shore. “The family could’ve gone someplace nice, would’ve been good for us.”

Y/N didn’t say anything.

“Think we all just need a break. Go somewhere to forget about everything and reflect on our lives.”

Y/N still kept her mouth shut, knowing that she had to choose her words carefully so that her mother would fully understand.

“Do you remember when we went to that beach in Florida and you saw that sting ray?” Mrs McKay chuckled a little to herself.

“And I screamed for help ‘cause it scared me.”

Mrs McKay laughed some more at the memory, studying the beach some more. “That was truly something else. Not something you’d normally do.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that.

“Don’t you miss those days? When everything was simple?” Mrs McKay seemed to be completely lost in her own head and memories, thinking back to a time she had clearly glorified.

“I don’t…” Y/N trailed off, furrowing her brows. “I don’t think everything was that simple back then, or now, for that matter.”

“What do you mean?” Mrs McKay asked. “Don’t you think the family would benefit from taking some time off and just relax like we did back then?”

“It’s…” Y/N glanced at her iced tea. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if it would’ve been a good idea for the family to reconnect again?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not? We need to talk about everything that’s happened these past few months. And especially what happened two days ago, because your father and I agree, Y/N, that was very irresponsible of you, throwing yourself out of a moving vehicle like that.”

“I know it was, I’m aware,” she said. “But in that moment, and I think you know this deep down, that was the only solution. You wouldn’t have stopped to let me out.”

Mrs McKay sighed. “We should definitely think about that holiday I just suggested, it’d be nice.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, studying her mother for a moment before she spoke for the first time in a few minutes. “I don’t… I don’t think it would be, Mum.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wouldn be nice to go on that holiday.”

Mrs McKay finally looked at her daughter, eyes following her outline slowly with a slight tilt to her head as if she was trying to assess what was best to say in this sort of situation. “The beach is always nice.”

“I wasn’t referring to the beach. I was referring to family time.”

Mrs McKay nodded her head slowly, bringing her glass of water up to her lips to take a slow sip.

“I think… I’ve wanted to talk to you about this for a while now. I think you’ve known it would happen as well.”

Her mother didn’t answer.

“I just… I just want to talk about everything and what’s gonna happen going forward. I don’t want there to be anything left unsaid after this.”

Mrs McKay kept her eyes on the table and nodded again. “Alright. What did you want to talk about?”

“Well… a lot, really.”

“Better start then.”

Y/N swallowed thickly, taking a quick sip of her iced tea before she turned her attention back on her mother, reaching for the ball of courage she had gathered from thinking about and getting ready for this the past two days. “I think ever since I was born, you’ve put pressure on me to live the kind of life you couldn’t when you were younger. When you got me, you saw possibility to make something right that you yourself hadn’t been able to.-”

“-That’s not true.”

“Let me finish. I think, until you got me, you were lonely. Dad wasn’t exactly a fucking dream-“

“-Watch your language.-“

“-And you didn’t really have any friends, so the second I was born, you finally had someone. You could do whatever you wanted with me. Or at least, that’s what you thought,” Y/N said. “You projected this image onto me of what you thought the perfect daughter, the perfect woman, would be, and ‘cause I was terrified of letting you and Dad down, I went along.”

“You’d never do that.”

“But I have. And I will.”

Mrs McKay furrowed her brows, but before she was able to say anything else – though she’d talk over people if she so had to, Y/N knew.

“I’ve been so conflicted, mum.” Y/N heard her own voice break, and it wasn’t till then that she realised that she was close to tears. The lines between Mrs McKay’s brows deepened at the sound. “Part of me hates you.”

Mrs McKay’s face fell at that.

“It hates you so much. It hates you for the days you told me you noticed I’d lost weight and how beautiful I now looked, it hates you for never being interested to listen to me talk about what I’m passionate about, it hates you for belittling said passions and making me feel stupid for having ambitions.”

“Y/N-“

“-It hates you for making me feel conflicted when I first followed my dreams, ‘cause I didn’t know if I was supposed to follow my own or the ones you’d laid out for me just to please you momentarily. Hates you for the trauma you caused me. For the countless hours spent in front of a mirror pointing out my flaws, and taking a really long time to realise that said flaws aren’t that. For hearing your voice in my head when I make a mistake, telling me how I should’ve known better.”

Now it was Mrs McKay’s turn to be stunned to silence, just watching Y/N with a steel face, refusing to show any sign of emotion.

“But…” Y/N dug her nails into her palms, telling herself that she could cry when she got back to the Inn, but not now. “But the other part of me, one that I hate most of all, still loves you.”

Mrs McKay’s lip was a thin line and Y/N recognised that face. That face appeared when her mother was unsure of how to feel about something, but by the looks of the slight tremor in her cheeks, Y/N knew her words had gotten through.

Y/N sobbed, hoping no one around them could hear and that no one she knew were around to witness this. “It loves you ‘cause you’re my mum. You brought me into this world, and you’ve stuck by me. You made me feel loved when I was younger, and I used to look up to you. You used to be my role model.”

Mrs McKay looked away.

“That part makes me feel so horrible, ‘cause how can you love someone who brought you so much self-loathing and misery? How is that possible?” Y/N was quick to wipe away the tear on her cheek. “But I do. I can’t erase that or you from my memory. Part of me is going to miss you after this.”

Mrs McKay met Y/N’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to contact me again. None of you. Not you, not Dad, not Dominic.”

Mrs McKay looked absolutely dumbfounded. “I beg your pardon?”

“You three brought me so much torment I don’t want you in my life anymore.”

“Y/N, you’re being ridiculous-“

“-If you want to contact me or meet me, you have to ask me via text message if I am okay with that. If I say yes, that only makes it a one-time thing, we are not going to stay in contact after it. If I say no, don’t try to persuade me, manipulate me, or make me feel bad about it. I’m pushing you out of my life for a reason.”

“Try to think rationally for once-“

“-If you do not respect this and come after me again, I’ll file a restraining order against you, Dad, and Dominic. Won’t look too good on Dad’s record now, will it?”

Mrs McKay just sat there staring again.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Mrs McKay didn’t react.

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

Y/N nodded then, picking up her iced tea and hoping her mum didn’t see how her hand was trembling slightly.

“You don’t want any contact with your family? The people who are supposed to love you unconditionally-“

“-You might love me, but it’s not in a way that’ll help me grow. Which is what love is all about. St Ives and the people I’ve met here, those are my family. This is home now.”

Mrs McKay took a few moments to think before she said, with a voice so ice cold it made Y/N’s hair stand on end, “You can’t choose your family. You’re put into this world- you’re placed somewhere, where you belong.”

“No. Family and belonging are not synonymous. You are my birth family, but I can choose who I consider to be in my closest circle, the people that mean the most to me,” Y/N said. “You are not that.”

A short silence stretched out between them before Mrs McKay said, “What about your father’s business? The one he inherited from his father, your grandfather.”

“What about it?” Y/N asked. “You never even bothered to tell me what it is.”

“Oh, it’s got something to do with electronic pins. You know those you have in your phone?”

Y/N just looked at her mother.

“I’ve never bothered to ask much, Y/N, it hasn’t ever been very interesting to me.”

“Maybe it would’ve been to me if you’d just let me in on it from the start instead of assuming I was too dim to take on the role as CEO.”

Mrs McKay’s eyes narrowed as if she was about to protest, but she must’ve realised her daughter was speaking the truth because she did not object.

“Can’t Dad just let someone else be CEO? Someone who is actually good at their job instead of giving the job away to Dominic?”

“Dom is qualified for the role.”

“Sure, but he’s also a fucking arsehole.”

Mrs McKay winced at Y/N’s words.

“Mum, you never even wanted me to know what Dad was doing. Let alone want me to take over for him. It’s never been a problem before that I won’t take over after him, dunno why it would be now.”

Mrs McKay just looked at Y/N, their conversation on replay in her head it seemed because she was conflicted. For the longest time, they just stared at one another and realised what this meant. Y/N had been ready for this conversation for a while now, even though she hadn’t realised how badly it needed to be had till this very second. Mrs McKay, nor the other two that had come here, had truly known how Y/N felt before last night. What Y/N had said along with her actions must have spoken volumes. But this, Y/N was aware, took the cake. She was telling her mother, a person who had given up next to everything for Y/N in a sense, to never contact her again unless she had to. It had to sting, and Y/N knew that she would miss her mother sometimes. Those moments when they’d laugh at something together or those early years where Y/N remembered idolising her mum. She’d miss that. But she would also be so much happier without her in her life.

“Well,” Mrs McKay said, voice trembling. “I should be heading back to your dad. He won’t be too happy about the news.”

“Mum, you can leave him.”

The pitiful smile that graced Mrs McKay’s face after that made Y/N cringe. “I won’t.”

Y/N nodded, watching as her mother got up from her seat. She did as well, giving her mother a small smile to offer some peace, to tell her that it would all be okay. At least in Y/N’s world. Y/N could tell that her mother hesitated at first, but once she stepped forward with her arms spread wide, Y/N walked straight into her embrace. They hugged each other tighter than they had ever hugged before, savouring this last, this peaceful moment that they had together.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” her mum said, rubbing her daughter’s back.

“Bye, Mum.”

They stepped away from one another and her mother smiled at her again. Y/N swore she could see tears welling up in her mother’s eyes, but she chose not to point it out, fully aware that she was about to cry herself. Mrs McKay drank the rest of her water, looked one last time into Y/N’s eyes, and then walked past her, down the stairs, and out of sight.

Monday, 10 August

The teapot was empty and all the biscuits were gone, meaning that Florence, Camila, and Barb were leaving The Roaming Crab Inn. The five of them had been knitting for hours now, and though Y/N had finished her project a while ago, she wanted to spend some more time with the knitting ladies before doing what she had to do. Florence folded the jumper she was working on and Barb hummed some sort of melody while Camila talked everyone’s ears off.

“I’m telling you,” Camila said, putting away her glasses. “The sleeves on this dress are way too big.”

“No, they’re not.” Bessie got up from her seat and walked over to Camila, taking the baby doll lemon dress out of Camila’s hands. Lowering her glasses onto the tip of her nose, she took a closer look. “How many were you supposed to cast off?”

“Three.”

“But then this is correct, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Camila sighed, taking hold of the dress when Bessie gave it back to her.

“Besides, your granddaughter won’t notice if you did the sleeves wrong.”

Camila looked right up at Bessie with narrowed eyes. “So, you admit I made a mistake?”

“No, I just pointed out that if you did, your granddaughter would hardly see it.” Bessie turned back around to go sit down in her chair, meeting Y/N’s eyes and making a grimace as to say that whatever Camila had just knitted, couldn’t have been correct. She sat back down again as Y/N gathered all the cups and the biscuit tray, carrying it all back inside to the kitchen where she put it in the dishwasher.

“Bye, darling,” Barb smiled as she walked past the kitchen. “Your cardigan’s looking wonderful.”

“Thank you, Barbara. See ya,” Y/N smiled, walking upstairs to put on her green woollen jumper. It was getting rather cold out as evening approached, and though Y/N had just finished knitting her summer project, it wasn’t hers to wear. Looking out the window, she saw the glass with a bouquet of dead flowers still standing in her windowsill. She didn’t have the heart to throw it away since doing so would be like binning the last piece of this summer she still had left. Forcing herself to look away, Y/N blinked away the stinging in her eyes as she started walking back down the stairs and the back garden.

All the other ladies had gone, meaning that it was just Y/N and Bessie left. Bessie still sat knitting, smiling at Y/N as she stepped outside.

“Want me to make another brew?” Y/N asked, adjusting her white summer dress under her oversized jumper.

“No, me lover, that’s quite alright. Thank you, though.”

Y/N smiled, sitting back down in her seat and picking up the cardigan. She was picking at some threads that were poking out, some of the many flaws in her first ever knitting project, when Bessie put her vest down and glanced over at her. Y/N looked back at her, raising her eyebrows ever so slightly.

“Is something the matter?” Y/N asked.

“You tell me.”

Y/N huffed, looking back down at her cardigan. “Depends what you’re referring to, I guess.”

Bessie sighed a bit, putting the vest on the table before them. “You haven’t spoken about that chat you had with your mum yesterday.”

Y/N inhaled slowly. “It was a lot to process.”

“We got time.”

Looking up at the older woman again, Y/N was greeted with one of Bessie’s signature warm smiles.

“I told her that I don’t want her, Dad, or Dominic to ever contact me again. She got a bit defensive, but she agreed not to contact me unless necessary.”

Bessie nodded her head slowly. “Do you think she’ll keep that promise?”

“She will, I’m less certain about Dad and Dom.”

Bessie huffed, leaning back against the back of her chair. “That’s men for you, never listen to what a woman has to say.”

“The right ones do.”

Bessie laughed, making Y/N smile a little. “Talking from experience, are you?”

Y/N hoped Bessie couldn’t see her cheeks heat up, but she was sure she noticed, hearing the older woman chuckle heartily before silence settled over them once again.

“You know,” Bessie started, knitting her vest again. “When I was younger, I drew the conclusion that family isn’t always blood and who you’ve spent the most time with. No, family is who makes you feel at home, who makes you feel safe, and loved.”

Y/N looked over at Bessie, biting her bottom lip as it threatened to wobble again.

“Family is who you make it. You don’t owe your parents anything. They might’ve brought you into this world, but they didn’t give you life, you did that yourself. When you decided to leave them, when you came here, when you applied for your UCAT, when you met Harry and everyone else. That’s life. You chose life.”

Y/N couldn’t help her smile, her sight getting blurrier with each passing second, but she didn’t really care just then.

“I’m so proud of you for doing that. It takes a lot of courage to follow your dreams, especially when the environment around you tells you that said dreams aren’t worth it,” Bessie said. “But, you have to remember this, they always are. Every dream is worth it. It’s okay to feel sad after making the right decision.”

A sob escaped Y/N’s lips and Bessie looked up at once, putting the vest away to focus her attention on Y/N who was now full on crying. She hadn’t known how much she needed to hear those words till Bessie finally said them. Holding onto Bessie’s hand for dear life, Y/N looked into the innkeeper’s eyes, trying to smile again, but she couldn’t.

“Bessie, thank you,” Y/N said between sobs. “Truly, thank you so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I love you; I love how far you’ve come.”

Y/N brought a hand up to her mouth, stopping a loud sob from coming out from between her lips. “I don’t know what to do now,” she said once she had calmed down a little. “I don’t know where to go, what to do, how I’m gonna handle University when the time comes. Like, I’ll be 26 by that time and everyone who’s starting will be almost ten years younger than me. It feels like everyone’s sprinted this marathon since forever, and I’ve fallen over and struggled to get up so many times that I’ve fallen behind. I don’t know how I’m gonna get back into the race, you know? I can’t win.”

Bessie pondered over Y/N’s words, watching her intently as she wiped more tears away from her face. “You can still win, Y/N. And even if you don’t win, you still did everything you could, and that’s just as good as winning, is it not?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, looking down at her and Bessie’s joined hands.

“Life doesn’t wait for you. It doesn’t force you to do anything, it just drags you along on a journey and it’s your responsibility to do what you want with your time on earth. You are still so young, you have so much time to do whatever you wanna do. If you lost your youth to controlling parents, abuse, a partner you thought truly loved you but didn’t, if you lost your youth to mental illness, your life isn’t over. There’s no deadline for anything like that in life. If you wanna go to uni now, five-none years after everyone else you know went to uni, then that’s what you’re gonna do. Who says you have to be a certain age, or at a certain stage in your life, or be satisfied with how you look, act, feel, before doing something that ultimately will make you happy? That will make your life worth living? No, life isn’t gonna wait for you to catch up, no one will, but it’s gonna give you opportunities to right your wrongs, to do what will bring you happiness. There’s no deadline, you still have time.”

Y/N met Bessie’s eyes again and the older woman smiled at her, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“All the time in the world,” Bessie said.

“I just don’t know what to do. I just… this feels like home, but after everything that happened last Friday, I’m not sure people want me here.”

“Oh, we do,” Bessie said firmly. “People might not have been happy with you, but they won’t love you any less. This is still your home, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled.

“We are your family now, Y/N. If you need a mum, I’ll be your bloody mum.”

Y/N laughed, leaning forward and bringing Bessie into a hug. Out of everything she had done in the last few days, this was definitely a moment Y/N thought she would cherish forever. This entire summer, Bessie had stood by her. No matter what, Bessie had been beside Y/N, ready to help whenever she needed guidance, and Y/N was unsure if she had ever met someone so willing to love as Bessie. She clung a little tighter onto Bessie, feeling another tear roll down her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling,” Bessie said, a smile in her voice. “Now, all you need to do is revise for the UCAT and give that cardigan to its rightful owner, eh?”

Y/N therefore took the cardigan with her up to her room and sat down by her desk. Though she was sure Harry was home, she was unsure if she’d have the courage to actually knock on the door and give it to him. It’d be better if she just left it there for him, though she knew that would also just look very weird. After everything, she had to face Harry, she was just unsure of how it was all going to play out. It took her a while to find the right words, and once she was done with her final draft letter, she put it on the desk beside the pile of disqualified letters, getting up to find her things and get ready for the trip to the lighthouse. With her stomach hurting from nerves, she put the cardigan in the tote bag, struggling to fit it as she reached for the desk, picking up the letter and shoving it into the tote bag.

With her tote bag on her shoulder, she started on her walk to the lighthouse. She had no idea what Harry would say when she showed up, if he would even allow her to enter his cottage at all. The three days that had passed since the end of summer party felt like ten years each, time had never moved slower. Y/N had waited for this moment for a while now. She had tried to gather the courage she would need for this. But, she kept telling herself this, if she managed to meet her mum and confront her about everything and told her, her dad, and Dominic to stay away from her, then she could walk to Clodgy Point and hand Harry a bloody cardigan. How hard could it be?

However, with each step she took that led her closer to the lighthouse, Y/N felt almost just as anxious, if not worse, than when she walked to meet her mother. There was something about facing Harry after everything that made her mouth dry up. She had absolutely no idea if he would want to see her again after everything, if he could even bear the sight of her after all she put his family and loved ones through. Not only had her father showed up to Jessa’s farm, but Harry had also been violently slammed against his own car and gone into hypo not long after. The mess that had been last Friday had made them both go through emotions neither thought would be possible to endure at once and during one single evening. She wondered if Harry knew she had been to the lighthouse and done the weather reports that night and the following morning.

Walking along Fore Street, Y/N gazed into the shops on either side of the pedestrian street, taking in life in St Ives as she didn’t know what would happen after today. She was originally set to check out of the Inn that morning, August 10th, but Bessie told her it would be alright if she wanted to leave by train later that day. Y/N didn’t know yet where she wanted to go or how far that would be, but all she knew was that she had to be in Plymouth on September 10th to take the UCAT. Besides that, her future looked to be very blurry. It all depended on what happened when she arrived at the lighthouse.

But as she strolled up the hill to Clodgy Point, she didn’t see Harry’s yellow van. Though this was weird at first, she tried to tell herself that he was still home. There hadn’t been a single time that summer when she’d shown up to Harry’s cottage and he hadn’t been there. He was always there.

Knocking on the door though, left Y/N standing there in silence for a single minute, the wild wind, seagulls, and sun overhead the only things keeping her company. She knew it was none of her business looking through the windows into his cottage, but she had to know if he was just ignoring her or if he really wasn’t there. She walked to the side of the house, looking in through the window just beside his bed, the one placed right beside the dining table. The place was empty. Sighing, she walked back over to the door and took her tote bag off her shoulder. She placed it in front of the door, hoping the wind wouldn’t blow it away, and then she got up and walked back the way she came.

It had been stupid to go there in the first place. Of course he wouldn’t be completely by himself after the hypo he had just a few days ago. His family and loved ones would most likely not allow him to be anywhere out of sight till they knew he was alright. Y/N refused to let her eyes start to sting again even though she could feel it coming on. The last few days she had been crying more than she ever had before. She never used to be a big crier, but something about being in St Ives and something about everything, the atmosphere and everyone in this town made her feel much more than before. It made her feel. It made her want.

Returning to the Inn, it was getting much darker out and Cornwall would soon be embraced once again by night. Y/N tried to look for Bessie inside, but the older woman must’ve gone home for a bit because she was nowhere to be seen. Y/N walked back up the steps and to her room, rummaging through her purse for her keys for what could be the last time. It seemed to take more time than usual and she groaned at herself, finding it harder to look for anything when it was so dark everywhere. The dim lighting of the stairs made her stop for a second. Taking a second to just narrow her eyes and get a closer look, Y/N was suddenly able to make out what it was she was seeing.

Bluebells, sea pinks, and hedgerow cranesbills laid neatly right before the door to her room. And though it looked almost just like the bouquets he had made her earlier, this one was almost entirely purple and made out of bellflowers. Y/N reached for it, picking it up and bringing it closer to her face, running her fingers over the soft petals gently as she felt her heart begin to pick up speed. It was as she smelled the flowers that she realised what this meant. Her eyes shot up and she just stared straight ahead at her door as she started breathing fast. He had been here. Harry had stopped by while she was walking to the lighthouse, dropping off the bouquet.

There was no time for hesitation as Y/N shot up into a standing position, running downstairs just as Bessie came back to the Inn.

“Oh! Hello, dear-“

“-Harry’s been here?” Y/N panted, standing in the doorway with the bouquet still in her hand.

Bessie’s eyes fell to the colourful flowers before she met Y/N’s eyes again. “He has.”

“When? Was it long ago?”

“Can’t remember, my darling, I just remember seeing his yellow car outside and there he was.” Bessie tutted softly. “It’s about to fall to pieces, that car of his.”

“You didn’t talk to him?”

A small smile spread out over Bessie’s lips as if she understood exactly what was going on. “I did.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows impatiently. “And?!”

“He asked where you were.”

Y/N waved her hands frantically to get Bessie to tell her what she’d told him in return.

“Told him you’d gone to the lighthouse to find him.”

Y/N ran a hand over her face, inhaling hugely. “Alright. Okay. Deep breaths.”

Bessie watched the younger woman with amusement, cocking her head a little to the side as a knowing smile spread out over her face.

“I… I need to leave. I need to go,” Y/N said. “If he shows up again, tell him I’ll wait.” She ran over to the other side of the street as the sky overhead was a slight darkening blue, tinges of purple and pink along the horizon. She stopped as she got a glimpse of the lighthouse, finally seeing the light. A light that would guide her where she needed to be. And with that, Y/N set off. By Porthminster beach, through Fore Street, flying past slow walkers, running straight for Clodgy lighthouse. She felt the bouquet fall apart, leaving flowers along her path through St Ives in a desperate attempt to get to Harry. To get where she needed and where she was supposed to be.

Though it had been a trek walking up the stone path before, Y/N ran up it with ease this time around. She could see the lighthouse blinking its distinct pattern, could make out some light within the cottage along with the yellow van. A breath left her and her heart began to soar, that shred of hope that had been born from seeing the bouquet in the hotel blossomed. Out of breath and probably very sweaty, Y/N knocked on the door of the cottage. However, like last time, no one opened. So, Y/N tried again, but same luck this time around. She walked out onto the moors and squinted her eyes, trying to look about to see if she could make out Harry’s figure.

“Harry!” she shouted, whipping her head around in different directions to see where he was. “Harry!” She ran beyond the cottage, trying to make out anything, anything at all, against the flat moors. “Where are you?!”

“Y/N!”

It came from overhead. As if an angel was flying just high enough for the wind to carry some of his voice, but low enough so that Y/N could hear him clearly. Turning around, Y/N was sure she was seeing just that, an angel. Harry was standing on the gallery deck of the lighthouse, looking down at her. At the sight of him, Y/N felt an intense tingle go through her entire body. It was an overwhelming sort of happiness, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, and it surrounded her, made the air around her static with anticipation and adoration. The sky behind him was darkening so she couldn’t make out his face, but she would be able to do just that soon enough.

Smiling to herself, she ran for the door. She pulled it open and let it slam behind her as she ran up the steps. Past the office, past the bedroom, past everything, till she made it to the very top. Panting and thighs burning, she opened the door on the topmost floor. The ladder to the bell room stood to her right, but she turned left and walked out onto the gallery deck where she’d seen Harry.

There he stood, right under the blinking light. He was looking at her with his lips slightly parted, hair as unkempt as usual, and a look of relief and shock on his face. They were left there just staring at each other for a little while, neither of them able to voice what they had been thinking about for the last three days. Everything from her jumping out of the car to get him, to helping him with his hypo, to doing the weather report, to talking to her mum, and the cardigan. The cardigan. Y/N was ashamed of how long it had taken her to notice it, she blamed the darkening sky above them.

Harry was wearing the colourful square cardigan she had knitted him and placed in front of his door. The one she had put there not even an hour earlier along with her note. Biting her lips together, she let her eyes wander his body. She took in the Elton John tee shirt he was wearing and the loose light washed denim jeans along with his black Vans. But her eyes lingered on what he was holding in his hand. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath halted. Their eyes met again, and Harry’s jaw was now working, trying to find the right words as he so rarely did.

“What’s that?” she asked him in a small voice, gesturing at his hand.

He looked down at it before looking up at her again, holding it up for her to see. A book. And not just any book. Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. Her favourite book by her favourite author. The one she had been reading to him in the field beside the lighthouse all summer. Her eyes began to sting again and she wondered once again how many times she would find herself crying in the span of just a couple of days.

“I, uhm…” He looked at it, opening it on the page where he rested his finger. “I just got to this bit right here- I mean, the whole book is rather confusing ‘cause of the whole stream of consciousness thing going on, but…” He pointed a finger at the line he’d been reading. “This right here made sense. Very much.”

The light from the lighthouse continued to shine its pattern across the coast before and around them, making some of Harry temporarily light up. It just strengthened her argument from before, that he was an angel.

“’Nothing is so strange when one is in love,’” Harry said.

“’As the complete indifference of other people,’” Y/N finished and Harry looked up at once, taken aback by her interruption but not at all offended.

He nodded his head slowly. “Yeah.” A few moments passed before he said, with such a soft voice it felt like a caress against Y/N’s skin, “I dunno what’s really going on in that book, to be fair, but… but I understood that. That line made sense.”

“It’s not the best book to start off on if you’re getting into Woolf’s work.”

“Yeah, alright, but I had to, didn’t I?”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s your favourite. It-“ He stopped himself, swallowing thickly as he shut the book again and kept eye contact with her. “It was a piece of you. I…” He inhaled slowly. “I didn’t know when I’d see you next- if I ever would again, and… Mrs Dalloway and Woolf just… It reminded me of you. It was a piece of you.”

Y/N wanted to walk closer to him.

“It was all those moments spent out in the field listening to you read it out loud, or just watching you while you did so. I…” He shrugged. “I might not know what’s going on in the book, but I don’t really give a fuck ‘cause if reading it will somehow bring me back to that and back to you, then I’ll bloody well do it.”

Her eyes fell to the book, biting her lips together before glancing up into his eyes again.

“I just wanted a moment. Whatever moment. A single moment with you. I’ve been so… so desperate these last few days,” he said, letting go of a small, but shaky breath. “I just wanted to be. Wanted to be with you. In whatever form, whatever I could get. Just be. Just exist in a place, in a memory, where I was in your presence.”

“Harry-“

“-And if you’re here to say goodbye… I just need this one. This moment. I just need to take it in. I just need to live with you for some seconds.”

Her lips fell apart even more and she furrowed her brow slightly. “Did you not read the letter I left with the cardigan?”

Harry pulled the book up again, tapping his finger against something resting between the cover and the first page. Was he using it as a bookmark?

“So, you read it?”

“’I’ve been knitting this all summer, it looked more like something that would fit you than me. The colours reminded me of you and how you made me feel. Love, Y/N.’”

Ignoring the fact that he had memorised the letter, she groaned slightly, scratching at her neck as she kept her eyes on the letter.

“Well… then I put one of the draft letters with the cardigan.”

Harry frowned.

“I didn’t know what I wanted to say to you, I wrote like 500 draft letters before I actually landed on something like ‘I’ll be at the Inn, please come see me’, but it doesn’t seem like I put that one in there.”

“No,” he said quickly. “You didn’t.”

“But then I saw the bouquet outside my door and Bessie said you’d dropped by. And since we hadn’t talked in days, I didn’t know what you thought of me and everything that had happened.”

“Grace told me. Dax, too.”

She just looked at him.

“Gracie told me you arrived with blood on your elbow and knee, that you helped wake me up, and Dax…” Harry sighed. “Well, he said he knew there was something going on, but he realised that, though we had been faking it, he knew then, just by watching you fuss over me and run for the lighthouse, that you actually cared about me. And he knows me well enough to just see it plainly on me that I have feelings for you, too.”

Y/N didn’t really know what to say. It was true. She cared about him. So very much. But she hadn’t thought about how it would look to Grace and Dax who had, mere hours before, heard that Harry and Y/N’s relationship had been a lie since the start.

“I… Y/N, I wanted to come to the Inn. I’ve wanted to see you ever since Friday, but Jessa wouldn’t let me out of sight and told me to rest for at least a day. And then, on Sunday, I went to the Inn but Bessie said you were out. So… I tried again today, but I wanted to make sure you knew I’d been by in case you were out again, so I left the bouquet.” His eyes fell to her hand, a small smile on his lips. “With bellflowers.”

When Y/N looked down onto her hand again where there had once been a beautiful bouquet. She remembered how she had felt flower upon flower split from between her fingers as she ran for the lighthouse, they were strewn along the path up to the lighthouse now. There was only a single one left in her hand. A bellflower.

“And I made you that cardigan,” Y/N said, looking up at him again. “It’s not perfect. There some faults here and there, a few holes, it’s a bit fucked-“

“-I don’t care,” Harry blurted out. “I like that it’s a bit fucked. I like when you can see the progress, when you can tell that someone’s struggled, but it’s turned out alright. I love it.”

Y/N couldn’t help her smile. She looked down at the flower in her hand, feeling herself clutch it a little tighter, not wanting to let it go.

“Do you…” Harry trailed off, watching her as she met his eyes again. “No, forget it.”

“No, what?”

“It’s stupid, really-“

“-Nothing’s ever stupid, Harry, what’s on your mind?”

“Well…” He shrugged his shoulders, looking down at the bellflower in her hands. “Do you remember when we were on the beach and we talked about your favourite books and started to discuss whether or not destiny is real?”

There was no hesitation before Y/N nodded, remembering every single moment of this past summer in vivid detail.

“You said you believe balance and energy, that you get what you deserve based on what you’ve done, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And I believe that the universe brings us someplace or something ‘cause it’s already got this perfectly sculptured plan for us, where we’re supposed to end up.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve thought about that conversation these past few days, ‘cause…” He thought for a few seconds, finding his words. “I think we got what we deserved.”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We lied to everyone. We lied to people we love, to ourselves, and… the universe didn’t want us to lie. It didn’t want us to fake it.”

She tightened her hold on the bellflower, more wind blowing past them where they stood at the top of the lighthouse, the lamp shining its familiar sequence above them.

“Y/N, we’ve done it all wrong. We got what we deserved ‘cause we didn’t do it right.”

“What are you saying?”

“Our theories? You with your energy and balance and me with destiny? It’s all connected, don’t you understand?”

She just looked at him, too awestruck to think clearly.

“You’re right, we did the universe wrong so it got back at us by having our worlds fall apart around us last Friday. And destiny… well, we met and we did it wrong.”

“Then what would’ve been the right way?”

“To never have initiated the fake relationship at all. We should never have done it.”

A small pang of hurt erupted in Y/N’s chest and she furrowed her brows slightly. “Then we wouldn’t have really met each other, though.”

“But we would’ve. I ran into you; I shouldn’t have asked you to be my fake girlfriend. If I had just asked you out…” Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “Who the fuck am I kidding? I wouldn’t have done that; I was way too nervous around you then.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up and she hoped Harry couldn’t tell how flustered she was.

“It was wrong of us to do it.”

“It wasn’t.”

“But it was, Y/N,” Harry said. “’Cause… it was never fake. Not really. We pretended to be a couple, but… it was never fake, not for me. My feelings for you, they’re not, and have never been, fake or a lie.” He took a small step forward, lips parted for a moment before he spoke again. “Every time I’ve touched you, or done something affectionate, or acted like someone who might be in love with you, it’s because I was. I am.”

A breath left her lips and her heart beat out of her chest, a rush of ecstasy flowing through her veins so quickly it made her dizzy with happiness.

“I’m in love with you. I… I’m so immeasurably in love with you, Y/N, that every moment without you, or any moment when I don’t have you close to some capacity, is insignificant. Woolf is right about that. Everything is much more important, I feel so much more than I did before you, all my senses are heightened, but I feel the most for you. It’s been like that for a while now.”

Y/N walked over to him, eyes on his before she looked down at the bellflower between them. “I didn’t…” She bit her lip for a second. “I didn’t really know what love was till I came to St Ives. I knew what it was to kind of love someone, I know that… to some degree I love my mum. I cared about Dominic, and I even loved Dad when I was little.” She glanced up again. “But I’ve never felt love like this. I’ve never been on the receiving end, never loved as much as I’ve done this summer. I feel so full of it. You know when you fill a bucket or a glass or anything with water, and the second it pours over the brim, the water envelopes it? That’s how this summer has felt.”

Harry smiled a little, his right dimple showing.

“You showed me what it means to love and be loved in return, that is what we’re put on this planet to do. What is life if you’re not loved and you don’t love?”

He just looked at her, eyes tracing her face and taking in each one of her features.

“It was never fake, Harry. Never.” The smile on his face disappeared and a shaky breath slipped from between his lips. “I’ve been falling in love with you all summer. I didn’t even realise how hard and fast it had happened till you kissed me at Porthgwidden Beach,” she said. “Even… Even if you kissed me just for show.”

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head quickly before he looked at her again, not sure if he’d heard her correctly. “What?”

“You kissed me-“ She stopped herself, tilting her head at him. “You kissed me to show off that we were a couple… right?”

“No, I didn’t,” he said. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? Everything I’ve ever done has never been for show. Nothing was a lie. I wanted to kiss you at Porthgwidden. I had wanted to kiss you for a while.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Y/N, I always want to kiss you,” Harry admitted. “Always.”

She couldn’t help her slight smile. “Nothing was for show?”

“Nothing.”

“Everything was real?”

He looked down, finger tracing the petals of the bellflower in her hand. “We’re real, flower. Our feelings are real.”

“Then… if you always want to kiss me,” Y/N said, voice low and filled with purpose. He looked up at her quickly. “Why aren’t you kissing me right now?”

Another breath left Harry’s lips and he ended up just staring at her. The entire summer flashed before them as their eyes drifted from each other’s eyes to their lips and back up again. Them running into one another, going to Grace’s birthday, the kamayan on the beach, and everything that followed. Her reading to him in the grass, looking up every now and again to catch him watching her, a tinge of pink on his cheekbones as he looked away, doing his best to hide his smile which in turn made it impossible for Y/N to hide hers. Everything passed between them in those seconds where Y/N waited for him to kiss her. It was a whole summer of miscommunication, wrong-doings, and making up for mistakes, everything had come to this.

Harry raised his hand, slowly sliding his thumb over her cheek before he settled his fingers at the nape of her neck. They leaned into one another, resting their foreheads together and for a little moment, they just stood there. She let him hold onto her as she moved to slide her hands up his back, still holding onto the bellflower. Y/N glanced upward, the lamp of the lighthouse turning on. Seeing the light, she felt peace run through her. This was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Looking back at Harry, her eyes lingered on his lips before she met his eyes again. With that, he leaned in, and pressed his lips softly against hers. The light overhead turned on again and Y/N knew, without a shadow of a doubt, this was home. The taste of Harry’s lips, his hands on her neck and hips, his breath against her cheek; just having him in her presence, that was where she belonged.

They detached their lips for a short second, eyes meeting. “You’re staying?” he asked.

“I’m staying,” she answered. “If you want me to.”

There was a slight pause where they just looked at one another. She saw a smile form on Harry’s lips before he leaned in again, kissing her more fiercely. She felt his smile against her lips, making her smile back, unable to help herself. Harry tried to widen their lips so his tongue could trace hers, but their smiles were too wide, and their teeth ended up sliding against one another, making Y/N laugh and Harry giggle. They opened their eyes again, just looking at one another and smiling until they calmed down, kissing one another again.

This time, Harry managed to open their mouths in unison, tongues gliding against one another, and they were finally able to taste one another again. Nothing else mattered as they drew out the kiss, letting the heavenly rush that was going through their bodies in that moment take over completely. They were buzzing with electricity, shining like a star where they stood joined together. Y/N was sure that the lamp inside the lighthouse could go out, and her and Harry would light up the entire world and guide everyone who needed help, home.

She slung her arm around his neck, the hand clutching the bellflower rested on his shoulder and they deepened the kiss. It was the happiest moment of her life, standing there, at the top of the lighthouse, with Harry. There would be nothing like this ever. Everything had led to this. It was as Harry had said, everything else was so much more colourful now, but so insignificant in comparison to him, to this. How had she ever thought she’d live a life without him in it?

“You can spend the night,” Harry said once they had regained their breaths. “We don’t have to do anything; I just want you to stay here with me.”

She smiled at him, letting go of a breathy chuckle. “I’ll stay the night.”

He smiled back, kissing her temple. “I just want you as close as possible.”

She turned her face and pressed her lips against his again, closing her eyes and melting into him again. He gripped her face gently, pulling her to him and moaning softly against her, his wet lips making a hot shiver run up her spine that absolutely no one but Harry had been able to conjure. An early autumnal wind blew past them and though it was a cold breeze, Y/N felt herself radiate warmth. They giggled against one another when they realised they had completely forgotten where they were, the plans from earlier about going downstairs.

Harry took Y/N’s hand and the two walked back down the stairs, Harry carrying Mrs Dalloway and Y/N the bellflower. Once they reached the cottage, Y/N walked straight over to the kitchen and found a small glass she could put the flower in, and once it was filled with some water, she put it on the dining table, smiling a little at it. Harry walked over and sat down in the windowsill Y/N had spent countless hours studying for her UCAT, he watched her as she marvelled at the bellflower, studying it in the dim light of the cottage.

“What’ve you been up to the past few days?” Harry asked as Y/N sat down by the dining table.

“Been knitting that,” she said, nodding in the direction of the cardigan Harry was still wearing. “And I had a chat with Mum.”

Harry paused for a few seconds, letting the words Y/N had just uttered sink in. “You… You talked?”

“Yeah.”

“Did your parents and-“ Harry made a grimace as if saying the name made him ill. “Dominic show up unannounced again?”

Y/N tried not to smile. “No, I asked Mum to meet me.”

“Oh.” Harry nodded his head some, letting the words sink in. “Alright.”

“I just wanted to make it very clear that I don’t want anything to do with them again. Told her that if they came close to me or tried to meet me without letting me know and talking to me beforehand, I’ll file a restraining order or summat like that. I dunno how to do it or if the situation is, like, qualified for one-“

“-Jo will help. They work for a law firm; they’ll know what to do.”

“I’d appreciate that very much.” She sighed. “If Jo and the rest of St Ives will ever truly forgive what we did.”

Harry’s eyes fell to his hands in his lap, letting some silence settle between them before he said, “Yeah, Jessa wasn’t impressed.”

There had not been a moment prior to this when Y/N had felt angrier and more ashamed of herself. Out of everyone she had met in her life up until that point, and probably forever, Jessa was one of the most accepting and kindest people she had ever met. The fact that she had not only disappointed Jessa but also hurt her, made Y/N so thoroughly sad that it was hard not to scream out in anger.

“Did she…” Y/N trailed off, gesturing with her hands as Harry looked up at her again. “Did she talk to you about everything when you stayed at the farm with them that day after your hypo?”

Harry shook his head. “No. She barely spent any time with me, just told Grace to keep me company while she tended to the farm. She didn’t want to let me be alone, though. She can be mad at me, but she still can’t be that mad, you know what I mean?” Harry chuckled some. “Got the biggest heart out of anyone I know, Jessa does.”

Y/N smiled a little at that. “She had to know you’d be alright.”

“I heard you went up to the lighthouse to do the weather reports.”

She bit her lips together, remembering that night in vivid detail.

“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much for that.”

“You couldn’t do them, and someone had to.”

Harry chuckled. “You’re making it sound like it was dreadful.”

“It was!” He laughed even more at her exclamation. “I was proper freaking out!”

“But you did an amazing job! Everything you’ve written down is correct and I can guess then that your report was as well.”

She smiled. “I hope so.”

Harry smiled back, getting up to take the cardigan off and put it on a hanger by his dresser.

“Who did it after I left? I went back to the Inn after the 9am one.”

“Dax told me you were at the lighthouse and when he got your text saying you’d be leaving, he told me, I called Trinity House, and another lighthouse keeper off-duty came and stepped in for the day.”

“Okay, good,” Y/N said. “I was scared I just left it in the hands of no one, but I didn’t know what to do.”

“You did plenty. Thank you, genuinely.” Harry looked at the clock on the wall, letting go of a long sigh before he walked over to the lamp by his sofa, turning it off.

“I…” Y/N said, cracking the knuckle of her thumb as nervousness suddenly flooded her. She had thought about this a fair amount since the party last Friday and she felt like it had to be addressed. “The piano piece you played at the end of summer party,” Y/N started, making Harry look over at her. “It was beautiful.”

“You mean your song?”

Y/N felt lightheaded at him addressing it like that.

“It kinda just came to me throughout the summer. The first bit was just us laying in the grass and as it picks up you can kinda tell how much you begin to mean to me,” he explained. “It’s nostalgic, it’s what I was going for anyway. You don’t really know if you should be happy or sad, ‘cause the memories make you feel both at the same time.” He walked over to the foyer and locked the front door, turning the lights off, closing the door leading out there, separating them from the entrance. “Played it for Grace a couple of times and I was gonna play it for you, but… well, then everything went to shit, didn’t it?”

Y/N let out a small chuckle, looking down at her hands. “Yeah, everything fell apart all at once.”

“It did,” he agreed, turning a lamp on top of his dresser off. “But we made it, didn’t we?”

She smiled at that.

Harry paused for few seconds, looking out through the major window at the far-end wall where he had just been seated, furrowing his brows as he thought. It was as if he had just remembered something, biting his lips together as his eyes fell to the floor again. Not knowing what was on his mind, Y/N kept her mouth shut.

“I… I can’t remember much from last Friday,” he confessed, looking back up through the window. “It’s not even a blur, it’s just… it’s not there.”

Y/N just looked at him.

“Usually what happens when my blood sugar’s low. I get dizzy, start to sweat and I shake, and I’ll be very irritable, the slightest thing will tick me off.” Harry walked over to the dining table, sitting down next to Y/N. “And, if I go into a hypo, I won’t remember the hypo, or most of the moments leading up to it. I’ll just slowly jolt out of it and realise what’s happening.”

She nodded, eyes falling to his hands that were folded together on the table before him.

“I remember your family arriving and I remember being scared out of my bloody mind when I realised what was going on- when you and Bessie fucked out of the barn. I knew something was up. I kind of had a hunch as to what it was, but… I didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t.”

She wanted to reach for his hand.

“I didn’t even know who they were, you hadn’t shown me any pictures of them, so I couldn’t tell from just looking at them, but I knew. An old married pair and that… that ruddy tosser – don’t even wanna say his name – came out of that car, and I just knew. I couldn’t let you go with them.”

“I’m sorry-“

“-No,” Harry stopped her. “No, I get why you did. Didn’t wanna cause a scene, and all that.”

She nodded. “Thought it’d be better if I went, didn’t want to fight with them in front of everyone.”

Harry looked up at her. “You fought with them?”

“Not a physical fight.”

“A man can only dream.”

She laughed.

“You should’ve levelled He Who Must Not Be Named while you still had the chance.”

She grinned at him. “When I become a dentist and he’s my patient, I’ll pull all his teeth out without any anaesthetics. How ‘bout that?”

Harry smiled back. “That’ll be a right laugh.”

She giggled, looking down at his hands again.

“What happened in the car then? You had an argument?”

Biting at her bottom lip, Y/N thought about the entire car incident before looking up into Harry’s eyes again. “I told them I wouldn’t come back to Hampshire, that I wouldn’t move in with Dominic, that-“

“-They wanted you to move in with that grotesque git?!” Harry sounded flabbergasted.

She smiled a little again. “Yes, well, Mum and Dad don’t really care what I think as long as it looks good, you know.”

Harry nodded, motioning for her to continue on explaining.

“And then I told them I was doing a UCAT exam. None of them believed it or wanted me to take it, and that’s when Gracie called,” Y/N explained. “I asked Dad to stop the car so I could go back, but he wouldn’t let me out. I kind of realised that nothing would stop him. So, when I felt him stepping on the break before he was about to turn, I told them not to follow me, and I jumped out of the car.”

Harry stared at her, mouth hanging open, blinking multiple times as if he was picturing the entire thing unfold. “You…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You jumped out of their car?”

“To get to you, yeah.”

A small breath left his lips and he continued to just look, a sort of appreciation on his face that made Y/N warm with pleasure. Again, she felt an urge to reach for his hand and hold onto him, to check if he was okay. Reliving those memories in her head and talking about them, made her also revisit the feelings of dread at the news of Harry’s hypo. Just wanting to get to him, just wanting to see he was alright.

“You’re bloody mad,” he said, a breathy chuckle following his utterance. “Brilliant, but out-of-your-mind mad at the same time.”

Y/N laughed again, smiling at Harry. “Did you feel the hypo coming on?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, scratching at his jaw as his eyes fell on the dark field beyond the window beside the kitchen table. “Yeah, I usually feel them. This time around there was so much happening all at once, I didn’t really feel it till it happened. I’m usually very good at regulating my blood sugar, not had a shock like that in years.”

She leaned her elbows on the table, taking a grip of her upper arms as she watched him talk.

“I used to not want to take my insulin pens out in front of people after we had a meal out or stuff like that, it used to make me feel very vulnerable. I used to feel exposed, as if I was showing people a secret of mine that I didn’t want them in on. It was the same when I was overweight, I didn’t wear revealing or tight-fitted clothes ‘cause I didn’t want people to think I was bigger, you know what I mean? The better I could hide it from everyone else, the easier I could hide it from myself. So, I had a few hypos when I was younger.”

Two lines appeared between his brows as he thought, Y/N wanted to reach over and stroke them away.

“I think I was just so used to hiding parts of myself – big parts – that made it almost instinctive, hiding the fact that I was diabetic. I thought there was something wrong with me at first, ‘cause this would change my entire life, you know?” He let out a chuckle. “But then I went to this event thingy where I met other kids with diabetes, and I realised that it was much more common than I’d ever thought before. Not only that, but it had been stupid of me to ever hide it, to be ashamed of it. When you’re a kid, all you want is to fit in. You don’t wanna stick out or give anyone a reason to pick on you in any way. All the bullying before had really made an impact, I never wanted to experience it again, you know?” He sighed. “Some people will bully you for anything, especially those things you cannot help.”

Y/N furrowed her brows as she listened to him.

“But I was surrounded by people who made me realise that life is too short to be embarrassed, especially about things you cannot change.  People who judge others for what they choose to do with their lives, are often the ones who still struggle to know who they are themselves, constantly critiquing others for their quirks and wrong-doings as if it’ll erase their own.”

Y/N smiled a little, nodding her head. “Yeah, my thighs have always been bigger,” she said. “I used to hate them ‘cause Mum would point them out and tell me I’d be wise to lose weight, but-“ Y/N shrugged. “-I like the way they jiggle when I walk, and though thigh chafing is an absolute pain, I still find them cute. It took me some time to realise that, of course. Especially when the environment around me keeps telling me they are. But I couldn’t care less, to be fair. Though it doesn’t feel like it at times, there are far more important things in life than an insignificant opinion. Big thighs save lives, do they not?”

The frown on Harry’s face has evaporated as Y/N spoke, a soft smile left in its wake. “Too right.”

Y/N smiled back.

“I love your thighs. They just-“ Harry made to reach for them, but stopped himself. Y/N laughed at him as he blinked himself out of some sort of trance.

“They what?”

“They’re pretty.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up instantly. No one had ever said that. That they liked her thighs. It only made those butterflies inside Y/N’s tummy flutter their wings even more wildly, not knowing how to properly act around Harry anymore.

“I was about to say something that would be a bit inappropriate,” Harry mumbled.

“What?”

“No, I can’t say. It’ll ruin the mood.”

“Nothing will ever ruin the mood, Harry.”

“Fine,” Harry hissed, inhaling quickly. “I just wanted to say that I really like the feel of them against my cheeks. They’re so soft. So… so soft.”

Her entire body went hot at that, because not only did it take her off guard, but she instantly remembered the feeling of his slight scruff against the inside of her thighs. Just thinking about it made her all dizzy with a need to feel it again. It all came sneaking up on her so suddenly that she was left biting her bottom lip, just looking at Harry as she clambered for things to say.

“See!” Harry exclaimed, chuckling. “Ruined the mood!”

“It just took me by surprise!”

“Right,” he laughed, getting up from the chair.

“I’m sorry for turning the lights out, it’s 9pm and I usually go to bed then. Gotta be up in about five hours.”

“Of course,” Y/N said, getting up. “We’ll… I’ll let you go to bed.”

“You’re not coming to bed?”

She just stared at him for a few moments. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“Assume,” Harry said, walking towards the bathroom.

Y/N laughed, following after him.

The two brushed their teeth together, Y/N using the toothbrush she had used the times before when she’d been there. Turns out, Harry had never thrown it out in case they would find themselves in this position multiple times. They took their time as Y/N ended up laughing at Harry, toothpaste dribbling down his chin. He told her that always happened and Y/N thought this was odd as Harry had a fairly big mouth.

Once again, he lent her a tee shirt. This time around, she only slept in that and her knickers, not really caring that Harry saw her in them as he’d seen her naked before. Harry only wore his boxers, putting on his sleep mask as Y/N picked up Mrs Dalloway where Harry had put it on the bed. Getting under the covers, she opened it on the page where he’d left off, smiling a bit to herself as she read a few passages. With a window open and most of the lights turned out except for the lamp on the nightstand, Harry got into bed with a grunt, pulling the covers over him. He glanced over at her, studying her face as she read, how her eyes flickered from word to word, line to line, paragraph to paragraph.

“Creep,” she mumbled, and Harry chuckled a little, getting into a comfortable position on his side so he could watch her.

“Read to me?” he asked, voice hoarse with on-coming sleep and Y/N found it so endearing and the question so familiar that a tingling sensation ran from her toes all the way up to the hair roots at the top of her head.

And so she did as he asked. She read from Mrs Dalloway, so softly and carefully that she almost lulled herself off to sleep. However, Harry was clinging to consciousness all he could. He would almost drift off but come back with a jolt, eyes wide open as if he tried to fight sleep, watching her lazily and intently, not daring to take his eyes off of her in case she wouldn’t be there when he opened them again. But it was only so much he could do, and, in the end, soft snores emitted from her companion, and Y/N put the book away, turning off the last light before joining Harry under the sheets.

It took her a while to fall asleep as well. She was just left staring at Harry, not really believing that this was all real. After everything that had happened these last few days, this almost seemed like a “too good to be true” ending and Y/N was nervous. She was content just being close to Harry like this, this was where she’d always wanted to be, but there was still a lot that needed to be addressed. The two of them had to talk about what would happen next, she needed to talk to everyone else, and she had to continue revising for the UCAT because it was now under a month till she was supposed to take the exam. The many thoughts and uncertain future kept her up like it had the last few nights, and Y/N wondered when she’d get a good night’s sleep.

She jolted awake some hours later, blinking up at the ceiling as Harry got up on his elbow and reached for his phone, turning the alarm off. Y/N watched as he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face to wake himself up a bit. She knew he couldn’t turn the lights on as it would ruin his night vision which he needed when he was out looking at the Stevenson Screen, so her eyes followed him as he got up from the bed and walked over to put the same outfit on that he’d worn before; his denim shorts and a pink tee shirt over it. He glanced over at Y/N, part of him must’ve realised she was awake.

“Alright?” he asked, voice hoarse from sleep and it made Y/N wake up even more. The sound of it made her all hot.

She nodded her head. “Your alarm clock just woke me up.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Harry said, smiling a bit. “You jumped a bit.”

She smiled back as Harry gave her a small nod, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb before he walked out of the cottage and toward the lighthouse.

She wasn’t able to fall back asleep, however. She laid awake, looking up at the ceiling overhead and thinking too many thoughts all at once, her head feeling heavier than it had that entire night. It felt like she hadn’t slept at all, yet also had the deepest sleep of her life. After all, she had been with Harry this entire time, the two of them had talked everything out, they were okay, she should’ve had an amazing night sleep. But there was something that nagged at the back of her mind, something she had not been able to stop thinking about since Harry had said it just before they went to sleep.

“I really like the feel of them against my cheeks. They’re so soft. So… so soft.”

Her thighs. Soft. He liked the feel of them against him, around his face, as his head was between her legs. And then Y/N realised why her night had been so confusing and why it had been hard to fall asleep in the first place. Her body hadn’t forgotten those words. It had reacted to them while her brain had been wistfully unaware, letting it create an ache along her skin that only Harry could do something about. Taking a deep breath, Y/N closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep again.

Her mind immediately travelled back to the times before when Harry had tasted her. Whenever they had the chance to get intimate, he had always insisted on going down on her, like it was a privilege to, like he needed to. Y/N supposed it made sense, as he had told her how much he enjoyed getting his partner off, that knowing he was getting them off got him off. Seeing how hungry he truly was to make someone squirm and cry out his name, Y/N was always astounded by how true he had been to his word. He loved it. And something about that made Y/N’s entire body heat up. She found it so hot that he would do just about anything for someone else if it meant he’d help them over the edge.

Y/N’s eyes opened again, and she turned so her face was hidden in the pillow, screaming into it at how pathetic she was being. A thought had struck her, because she was sure that if she didn’t get rid of this ache now, it’d be even harder for her to fall back asleep afterward. Laying back down on her back, her eyes found the ceiling again and she rested a hand at the very bottom of her tummy. Harry wouldn’t be back for some time still, if she was quick she’d be done by the time he got back. And if she wasn’t quick and didn’t finish, she’d just excuse herself to the bathroom and finish everything quietly in there. Yes, that was a good plan.

Lifting the band of her knickers, Y/N reached down, hoisting her legs up slightly so it’d be easier for her to access all of herself. She ran a finger from her clit and down to her hole, not surprised to find wetness pooling there already. She smeared it out over herself; flicking her fingers over her bud, down to her hole again, making sure each part of her was covered in it. Continuing on like this until she basically found her core aching with a need for her to finish, Y/N started focusing entirely on her bud.

She thought of Harry. Thought of how he had looked while he ate her out from behind, his green eyes peering over at her as he looked over her shoulder at him. And then next came an image of Harry laying on his back in the bed in the lighthouse bedroom, eyes shut tight and mouth in an O-shape, forehead creasing as Y/N sat down on him, taking him into her. A low and long rumble emitted from him, vibrating through her, and Y/N gasped. He was sweaty, needy, and so incredibly hot where he laid under her, completely at her disposal, that it made the room spin around her. It all happened so quickly and it was so easy for her to almost reach a peak that she found herself inhaling sharply, letting go of a moan she had not meant to let pass her lips.

And it had been the worst possible moment for her to moan as well, because the door into the cottage opened and Harry stepped inside. Y/N stopped herself immediately, laying back down as if nothing had happened. However, by the way Harry quickly closed the door and locked it, looking over at her, she was sure he must’ve either heard or seen something. None of them spoke for a moment as they just looked at one another, at a loss for words. Y/N’s entire body felt like it was burning, but this time it was from embarrassment and not from want. If someone could transport her into an alternate dimension where she had chosen not to masturbate in Harry’s cottage while he was out doing the weather report, that would’ve been nice.

Harry’s mouth opened and closed again as he took his shoes off, still not stepping further into the cottage than the foyer. The silence was deafening, and Y/N wanted to scream. Couldn’t he just say something? He already knew partly what she had been doing according to how pink and flabbergasted he was, the least he could do was say something. Y/N didn’t mind him hearing or seeing her. In fact, she quite liked the idea. But she hadn’t intended to make Harry uncomfortable or make him not want to come back to bed.

“Uhm…” Harry said, clearing his throat as he scratched at the back of his neck. “Do you… I can…” He let his arm fall to his side. “I’ll go sleep in the lighthouse if you want some-“

“-No,” Y/N interrupted him. “I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed… I didn’t mean…” But she, like Harry, didn’t really know what to say. What was the right thing to say in a situation like this?

“I’ll step outside if you want to finish.”

“No, I-“ Y/N couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. This whole thing was so awkward and could’ve been so easily prevented. “-It’s fine. You can come back here to bed if you want to sleep next to me.”

Harry chuckled. “Don’t think there’s anywhere I’d rather be, to be honest.”

Y/N bit her lips together, wiping her fingers on her thigh before she positioned herself on her side again. She watched as Harry too his tee shirt off, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought for a few seconds. He didn’t look at her as he asked, “Did you finish, then?”

Y/N felt like she was on fire again, looking away from Harry as he unbuckled his denim shorts. “No, but it’s-“

“-Would you let me give it a try?”

She blinked, meeting his eyes. “Pardon?”

“Let me try to make you finish.” He got into bed with her, not taking his eyes off of her. “Please?”

A chill went up her spine and her centre began to ache painfully again. Not knowing what she was doing till she was doing it, Y/N nodded. Harry removed the covers from over her and Y/N got cold at once, but the sight of Harry’s eyes travelling down her body made her forget about the lack of the duvet at once. He leaned in, kissing her lips softly. It was a lazy sort of kiss, their mouths opening up for one another slowly and their tongues tangling, their lips getting wet and small whimpers emitted from their mouths as the make out session was dragged out. Suddenly, Harry started kissing down her jaw and neck, over her breasts that were covered in his tee shirt and down her body.

“What were you thinking about while you were getting off?” Harry asked, crawling further down the bed until his face rested just above the place she needed him. She was still on her side, Harry resting his head on her right thigh while she was holding up her left one as not to rest it on his head, she’d suffocate him for sure.

“You,” she answered simply, and Harry groaned against her skin, vibrating through her entire body, and especially her clit that was already sensitive from Y/N’s earlier try.

Harry hooked his fingers around the hem of her underwear, moving his head as to get it off, but he didn’t move it past her knees.

“Don’t move these,” he said, gesturing at her underwear. “Want to feel your thighs tight around me.”

“When you were under me, that first time we had sex,” she continued to explain.

“Hmm,” Harry hummed, kissing her folds that were now exposed to him. Y/N bit her bottom lip, looking down at him where he was almost hidden between her legs. “Liked that?”

“Love it when you’re needy.”

Harry kissed her again, making Y/N gasp slightly. “Then you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve thought about you, too.”

She froze a bit, looking down at him.

“Gotten off to the thought of you. A bit of a sad wank after we shagged in the car. Bloody fucking hell,” Harry said, sounding breathless. “When you wrapped your hand around my throat… so fucking hot.”

Harry didn’t wait for Y/N to say anything however because he ran his tongue over her and she immediately moaned, her left leg shaking as the impact rocked through her. Harry buried himself there between her legs, drawing out his licks over her until he focused solely on her clit. He sucked and Y/N’s eyes fluttered close. It hadn’t been far from climax when she had tried to get herself off earlier, it was embarrassing how quickly she would come now. However, as Harry continued to suck on her and make noises as if he was enjoying himself immensely, having the meal of his life, Y/N didn’t quite care. She was losing her mind as it was, feeling Harry’s tongue and mouth on her again, a sensation she had missed.

She felt Harry’s scruff against her skin and though it tickled some, she welcomed this feeling. She couldn’t come up with a number high enough if she were to say how many times she had thought about being in this position with Harry again. Before Harry, Dominic hadn’t bothered going down on Y/N much, and this hunger of Harry’s, his desire to make her come and scream while she did, was in such drastic contrast that it was almost laughable. Harry would not rest till he knew she had had a mind-blowing orgasm, while Dom had never even asked her if she finished. She often had to do the job herself with him, but with Harry, he was the one doing that for her.

“Oh, God,” she moaned as Harry wrapped his lips around her bud again, sucking her deliciously.

She reached down, taking Harry’s hair in her hands, and biting her lips as she let out another moan. He was working hard on making this one an orgasm to remember, she could feel it. As an electric shock ran through her, making her gasp for breath, her left leg fell onto Harry’s face. About to lift it again, she heard a sound of contentment from down there. Harry liked it. He liked the feeling of her thighs around him, suffocating him almost. Another thrill ran through Y/N at the thought.

“Harry,” she gasped, her grip on his hair tightening, he hummed against her in response.

She clung to him, the feeling of fire hot tension in her core was starting to reach that point where it’d burst, and Y/N was making more and more noise the nearer it drew. Harry held onto her, slipping two fingers into her while he continued to eat her out, looking up every now and again to look at her. At the feeling of his fingers, Y/N gasped again, crying out his name as hot pleasure erupted from her core and all throughout her body, making every cell aware of what was soon to happen.

“Couldn’t sleep just now,” Harry admitted between licks and sucks. “After our chat, all I kept thinking about was the taste of your sweet cunt and your thighs around me as I eat you out.”

Y/N moaned in response, dizzy with approaching bliss.

The wet sucking sounds of Harry’s lips as well as his fingers now, almost echoed throughout the room. Something that before would’ve disgusted her previous partner, but something that made her current partner, and herself, highly aroused. She pulled at his hair as he sucked on her again, picking up the pace of his fingers, and making it hard for Y/N not to cry out yet again. She felt it then. Just there. A little bit out of reach.

“Come on, baby,” Harry said against her, voice husky. “Come loud and nice for me now.”

Y/N gasped again, Harry’s words taking her off guard. However, it didn’t take long after that. He wrapped his lips around her and sucked more forcefully this time around, making the world around Y/N shatter completely. She gasped and moaned and cried out Harry’s name as she came. Fires licking at each of her organs, making it hard for her to breathe as Harry got out from between her thighs. He got up instantly to get her something to clean up with, not letting her do it himself. As she calmed down, biting her lips as Harry laid down next to her, she saw the small start of a grin. Before she could ask what he was thinking about, Harry spoke.

“I’ve been running low on vitamin P these last few days.”

Y/N was silent for a moment before she understood, then she just looked at him. Of course. “Don’t say it.”

“Vitamin pussy.”

Y/N brought her hands up to her face to hide it from view as they both laughed. It had been such a stupid joke after such a serious and hot moment spent together that neither of them could help themselves. It was exactly what Y/N had expected from Harry and she loved it, even though it was the stupidest joke she had ever heard. Harry’s phone went off, and Y/N wondered if it was 6am already, though that wouldn’t make sense as it at just been 3. Harry sat up, looking at his phone and bringing it up to the sensor on his upper arm, clicking his tongue.

“Seems eating you out didn’t work to get my blood sugar up, it’s still low.”

Y/N laughed again, feeling a pain in her ribs as she looked up at Harry.

“I’ll go eat something ‘cause your cunt’s clearly not sweet enough, and I’ll be back for cuddles-“

“-Hey!”

“I can’t cuddle now, my blood sugar-“

“-Thought you said earlier that my cunt’s sweet.”

Harry grinned down at her, kissing her forehead. “Can’t imagine myself living without the taste of you.” And then he got up, walking over to his kitchen to make himself a toast.

Next time she woke was a little after nine when Harry returned to the cottage after another report, trying to be as quiet as possible as he made a quick brew of coffee. She opened her eyes slowly and just watched him, finding herself smiling at the sight of him standing there in the pale morning sun. He wandered over to the sofa once he had his cup, flicking through the newspaper before him and taking his time before he had to start on a new day around the Clodgy grounds. Y/N let him sit there by himself for a while, understanding that he just needed to properly wake up and relax after a night of reporting and working.

Once he was done with his coffee and closed the newspaper before him, Harry glanced over at Y/N, stopping a little when he saw her already looking at him.

“Morning,” he said, voice still a bit groggy with sleep as he hadn’t talked much still. He cleared his throat. “I, uhm…” He looked at the coffee cup, mouth open as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh.” He nodded, eyes landing on her again, giving her a small smile before he picked up the coffee mug and walked over to the dishwasher with it. “You want some coffee?”

“I’m good, thanks, though.”

“No problem.”

She continued to just watch him, the tiniest of smiles on her face. Harry walked about the kitchen, looking through his fridge before he rummaged through the bowl of fruit on the counter. It seemed he was busying himself as he tried to find the right words to say, stopping a few times when he thought he had it, but then starting up his hunt again.

“How’d you sleep then?”

Y/N’s smile widened, still feeling Harry’s stubble where it had been between her thighs only hours beforehand. “Great, and you?”

Harry glanced over at her, smiling as well now. “Been a while since I’ve slept that well, to be honest.”

She giggled, sitting up in bed. She noticed his eyes flickered to her chest where she was sure her nipples were visible through her shirt. His cheeks flared and he looked away before meeting her eyes again. “Same here.”

His cheeks got redder and he couldn’t help his little smile. “Right.”

She smiled, stretching where she sat in the bed. “I feel like I need a shower. Might pop by the Inn-“

“-No, you can-“ Harry didn’t finish that sentence, instead he gestured at the bathroom with a little nod, biting his lips together. “I’ll… I’ll go outside and do some chores.”

Y/N nodded, getting up from the bed. “If you’re sure.”

“You don’t even have to ask, Y/N.”

That sent a shiver up her spine and her smile widened. “I still want to make sure. You never know when you’re stepping over a line or summat.”

“Not here, never here.”

It was incredible how much Harry made her feel at once. His words made her warm with adoration, but they also made her want to run over to him and rip his clothes off. She just wanted to be close to him, to physically touch him all over again. It had been so long since she’d felt his skin, kissed him, even though it had only been last night, and she longed for it all again. She missed being close to him, missed feeling him take over each one of her senses. The feeling of him being all around her, paralysing her and making her feel full of nothing but peace and love. Was there anything that felt better than that? Than not being able to do anything anywhere completely with someone because you were so in love with them it consumed you? Wasn’t the feeling of someone you were utterly, truly in love with feeling the same way about you, wanting to be with you like you wanted to be with them? How lucky hadn’t they been to have found each other and fallen at the same time.

Y/N walked over to the bathroom, watching Harry where he was stood by the foyer. She hadn’t expected to blurt it out like she did. In fact, in retrospect, she wasn’t sorry she had suggested it, but she knew that it had taken both her and Harry off guard. However, it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t opened her mouth either. Something they both would have regretted.

“Do you wanna come?”

Harry blinked a few times as if he was certain he hadn’t heard her right.

“In the shower?”

His mouth fell open slightly and he continued to just look at her, for a second looking like he thought she was taking the piss.

“If you’re busy you don’t have to, but the offers there-“

“-Y-You want me to come-“ Harry stopped himself, furrowing his brows. “You want me to come in the shower with you?”

“Yeah, unless you’re busy. I know-“

“-No, I…” Harry inhaled slowly. “No, I want to. I’ll come.”

Y/N smiled at him, opening the bathroom door as butterflies swarmed around in her stomach. It had been a while since she’d seen him naked, and even that had been in the dark of the bedroom in the lighthouse. Now, in the pale morning light, she’d get to see all of him. And he’d get to see all of her; chunky thighs, cellulite, and the mole on the inside of her right thigh. She didn’t mind him seeing her naked.

Y/N stepped inside, looking at the shower and the small window at the top of the wall, letting some natural sunlight stream into the bathroom. Harry followed after her, closing the door after him and standing there behind her, watching her as she studied the pale yellow sunbeams make it through the window. Slowly, she turned around, looking over her shoulder at Harry and keeping eye contact till they stood face to face. He was still watching her, studying her face and her body, taking his time and clearly trying not to make her feel uncomfortable at him taking her in like this. Reaching for the hem of Harry’s tee shirt, she brought it over her head and let it fall to the floor beside her, feeling an undeniable heat pull towards the bottom of her tummy as Harry’s eyes fell to her exposed breasts. He was paying so close attention to her as if just being here with her, getting a chance to look at her like this, was the greatest privilege one could ask for. Y/N’s body felt hot under his stare and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling a sort of powerful only Harry was able to make erupt inside her.

He tugged his own tee shirt over his head, letting it fall not far from where she’d placed hers, his broad and tanned chest exposed to her one more time. Like he had done to her, she took her time studying him. She took in the hair travelling from his navel to below his underwear, his outlined pecks and the soft tummy underneath them. Seeing him like that, glowing in the light of the sun, had something inside her scream with anticipation. Though nothing was set in stone to happen, she could still feel an instant intense electricity forming in the air between them.

Y/N reached for her knickers and Harry’s lips parted, inhaling sharply as if he’d just been brought back from an extraordinary trance. She pulled them down, revealing herself completely to him and the breath Harry had let enter his body just seconds before, left his lips in a shaky exhale once she stood upright again. His eyes moved over her, finally able to see all of her and in the light of day. Y/N’s heart beat hard inside her chest, looking at Harry look at her, feeling every emotion she held for him all at once. Once their eyes met, she let hers fall to his usual denim shorts, then meet his eyes again.

He understood right away, reaching for the button and the zipper, taking both his shorts and boxers off in one go. Y/N tried not to get visibly excited at the sight, but she could already see the hint of arousal on Harry, something that made the heat inside her own body intensify. Their eyes met again, and though she would’ve usually seen a slight blush across Harry’s cheeks, it wasn’t there just then. No, he seemed confident enough, ready enough, content enough not to feel embarrassed about anything.

She took a single step back before turning around, drawing the frosted shower door aside so she could step inside. Turning on the water, Y/N squealed a little as cold water came pouring down over her at first, taking a huge step to the other side of the shower so the water wouldn’t hit her. She was now standing in the open doorway into the shower, looking out at Harry who was smiling, chuckling some to herself at her instant reaction to the water. She wrinkled her nose at him before reaching her hand out, feeling at the water to see if it was a comfortable enough temperature now. When it was, she walked back over, standing under the shower head as she felt footsteps behind her on the shower floor, then the door sliding shut.

She turned around when she was fully wet, looking over at Harry as he just stood there, watching her intently. Biting her lip, she stepped aside, letting him slide past her and into the stream of the shower. She took his place, watching Harry now as he let the water run over him, a content sigh leaving his lips as if this was something he had really needed. Standing there, she wanted to reach forward and touch him. His back muscles, plump arse, and the scar on the back of his thigh. It wasn’t big, but it looked to have happened a long time ago. Maybe when he was little, having fallen off his bike or done something stupid kids often did while playing.

Harry picked up the shampoo bottle, letting her slide past him again to shampoo her hair. She waited for him to hand it over to her, but instead of putting the bottle back in her hand, Harry opened the shampoo and then put the bottle on the small sill beside the window. The small of fresh papaya wafted through the air, and a second later, she felt fingers in her hair and a hot sensation ran down her spine, resting at her core but heating up her entire body. She closed her eyes, letting the feeling of Harry take over each one of her senses. Humming contentedly, she let Harry massage her scalp, feeling herself relax completely for the first time in a long while. He pressed against her backside, not at all shy now that she felt him against her bum, harder than he had been when they undressed before one another. She felt like falling to the floor, the intensity of anything but the moment right now dissipating completely.

Something soft was pressed against her shoulder, then a bit further up towards her neck. Harry’s tender kisses sent shocks of great pleasure throughout her body, making it once again hard to remain standing. She suddenly heard some coughing and a small “ew”, and when she turned around, Harry was grimacing.

“Shampoo,” he explained, making Y/N laugh.

“You didn’t have to lick the shampoo.”

“It’s all over you now, innit?” he said, making both of them laugh again. “Was trying to be proper romantic, but fucked myself over with that one.”

“Nah, I liked it.”

“That I ate shampoo?”

She laughed. “Well, you didn’t eat it. At least not on purpose.”

He chuckled. “Real papaya tastes better than shampoo papaya. I’m a survivor of the papaya shampoo-“

“-Oh, don’t be dramatic.” She turned around, smiling over at him. “It was brave of you to go through all that for a shoulder kiss.”

“I’d go through a lot more than just eating shampoo to give you another shoulder kiss.”

Y/N laughed, getting the conditioner. She was about to put some in her hand when Harry took it from her. He shook his head, and she pretended to roll her eyes, even though she actually thoroughly enjoyed how much he wanted to take care of her. He ran his hands through her hair, making sure not to let any conditioner touch her scalp. While doing this, he planted more kisses along her jaw, even daring to kiss her neck and jawline, now not at all intimidated by the shampoo. There was simply no way not to smile and feel her entire body buzz with adoration as Harry did this.

When he stopped, he put his hands under the stream to get all the shampoo and conditioner off. Though she usually let the shampoo and conditioner stay in her hair a bit, she let it be this time around. Stepping under the stream from the shower head, she closed her eyes and rinsed her hair thoroughly. She ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes. She knew Harry was watching her and she loved that he was. The steam from the shower along with Harry’s not-so-subtly studying every single part of her naked body, made her hotter than she’d been in a while.

It happened so suddenly it made her gasp. Once she opened her eyes to look at him again, her hair free of shampoo and conditioner, Harry took the step toward her. He grabbed the back of her neck and brought her to him, kissing her fiercely. Though it had startled her at first, she melted into the kiss right away. Though they had kissed only last night, it still felt like an eternity ago, and she had missed him like this. She missed kissing him and knowing that it would lead somewhere fantastic, just like last night’s kiss had felt. Maybe that one had been even more intense than this one because it held the promise of a future, but this kiss felt very similar. This one was purposeful. They both knew there was a future now, but they had no idea where it’d go, only that in this very moment, no matter what, they wanted to spend this one moment with each other. And they wanted to take great advantage of that.

Harry pressed her against the wall, moaning into her as she gripped his back, bringing her closer to him. She tilted his head and kissed him harder, something that had a short breath leaving his nose, a slight twitch against Y/N’s core and lower belly.

“Open up for me,” she whispered against him and he did as she said without hesitation. Their tongues found one another instantly and fantastic bliss ran through Y/N’s body to the point where she completely forgot where she was. The kisses grew more frantic, wetter, deeper. She pulled away at one point, taking a grip of his hair, tilting his head so it’d fit better against hers, before she kissed him again. Harry smiled against her lips at that, getting harder against her as she took control of him, making him listen to her and what she wanted. The mere fact that this was turning him on turned Y/N on, and she continued to take the dominant role. Something both of them loved.

She lifted her leg and Harry took a grip of her knee, bringing it up to his hip. He instantly leaned more into her, his erection against her centre, making her grip on his hair tighten. Slowly, making a tingle of excitement run through her veins, Harry grinded against her. She couldn’t help her moan, begging him to do it again as she squeezed his shoulder. He did, letting a small whimper pass from his lips and into her mouth, desperate for an actual feel of her. Y/N adjusted her hips some, making it so that when Harry grinded against her hungrily the third time, a shot of pleasure erupted from her clit.

“Oh, my God,” she said, having missed the effect Harry had on her body like this.

He kissed along her neck, sucking lightly at the tip of her jaw. “You’re so hot.”

She smiled, closing her eyes as Harry kissed her collarbone. “It’s all you, you make me act like this.”

Harry stopped right above her heart, kissing her breast. “Don’t give me that sort of credit.”

She giggled. “Then what should I say?”

Harry kissed along her neck again, a thrill of ecstasy shooting straight for the spot between Y/N’s legs. “I’m not one to tell you, am I?”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, looking down at Harry and waiting for him to reach her shoulder before she uttered, “No, you’re not.”

She could tell Harry loved that, gripping her knee harder as he rested his forehead against hers. “Are you wet for me like I’m hard for you?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Why don’t you find out?”

Harry bit his bottom lip at that, she could feel his heart beating hard against his chest and against hers. She swore they beat to the same rhythm. He reached down between them, making sure to hold their eye contact as he reached for her centre, eyes hooded with lust. Once his middle and ring finger came into contact with her wetness, he let out a strangled moan. He slid his fingers over her, pushing them slowly into her and out again, making the ache of her core hurt with need. The teasing would surely kill her at one point.

“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he mumbled. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

“Taste me.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly, her commands making every single hair on his body stand on end in excitement. Running his fingers over her again, he pushed them into her once more, pulling them out to circle her clit. She moaned, not able to help herself, and the sound of her pleasure brought Harry his, moaning along with her. He brought his fingers up, placing them inside his mouth and keeping eye contact with Y/N as he wrapped his lips around his fingers, sucking off her juices. Finding this so hot her entire body began to ache for him, Y/N brought him to her again, kissing him hard. Once again, they lost themselves in each other’s lips, tongues, and the taste. Y/N assumed she was tasting herself on him, but it soon disappeared as the kiss deepened, becoming hungrier than any of the other kisses.

“Get a condom,” she said at last, and in his haste to do just that, Harry almost slipped on the slippery shower floor. Y/N laughed, holding onto her stomach as Harry’s life flashed before his eyes, getting out of the shower to rummage through his bathroom drawer for his condoms. He was back not long after, shielding his covered-up cock from the water as he made his way over to her, putting the lube on the windowsill.

“Think my near death is funny, do you?”

“Hilarious.”

Harry laughed at that, pressing his forehead against hers again as he got a hold of her leg, bringing it up to his hip again.

Harry’s other hand ran from her collarbone, over her chest, and down to her centre, looking into her eyes the entire time. He helped angle her right, licking his lips before meeting her eyes again, resting his forehead once again against hers. They looked down as Harry positioned himself at her opening, Y/N averting her eyes after a little while just so she could look at him when they joined together again. He glanced up at her again as well, holding onto his shaft till most of him was inside her, then gripping her hips hard. They both moaned, unable to say another word as a heavenly feeling swept over them.

A gentleness, vulnerability, warmth lingered there between them as Harry moved in and out of her at a slow pace, it was a sort of feeling that one couldn’t properly speak of, it was too powerful for that. What transpired between them as Harry pounded into her, made her arch her back, was so much more than anything that had ever existed before this. There was an emotion yet to be described, yet to be given a word, that they created as they stood there in that shower, the lazy sunbeams shining in on them and the hot shower pouring down Harry’s back. Y/N hummed in contentment as Harry’s hips met hers, loving the feeling of him there, colliding with her once again.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbled, keeping his eyes on Y/N at all times. He brought her knee further up his hips, making it easier for him to fuck her right, and while doing that, spreading her wider for him as well. At this, she moaned loudly, digging her nails into the skin of his back. With that, Harry picked up the pace a little more, their wet bodies colliding in a rough yet delicious rhythm that had the both of them gasping for breath.

Y/N felt something inside her core, something that was tensing up and making it harder for her to concentrate on much else besides the heat of it and Harry in front of her. Harry continued to rock into her, their bodies crashing hard and loud. The sound of flesh against flesh, their rapid breathing, and the occasional moan was their entire universe in those blissful minutes.

His grip on her tightened, and Y/N couldn’t help herself, letting go of a loud cry of Harry’s name, the quick strokes bringing her closer to her orgasm dangerously fast. She gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, making Harry moan loudly against her, the sort that had him gasping afterwards.

Y/N wondered how she had ever thought that Harry’s feelings for her hadn’t been genuine. She wondered how she had not seen it sooner. Not only how Harry felt for her, but how she felt for him as well. It had taken her so long just to realise that the reason why she was so protective of him, why she wanted to be near him, and why she always felt like her breath got clogged somewhere in her throat when she saw him, was because she was falling in love with him. It had crept up on her so slowly, so powerfully, that she hadn’t realised it till it was too late. But regardless, Y/N was sure that even if she had recognised that she was falling in love with Harry while it was actually happening versus how she realised after it had all happened, she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. She was where she was supposed to be. Where the kindness she had sent out into the universe had brought her; where destiny had always envisioned her. With Harry. In St Ives.

She leaned forward, softly biting onto his bottom lip and it was like seeing his pupils dilate.

“Fuck me,” he mumbled, making Y/N grin.

She arched her back, the tenseness in her core tightening. The edges of her vision blurred as she watched Harry. As they came together, as they looked into each other’s eyes, Y/N knew that nothing would be better than this. She felt Harry everywhere. Felt him, smelled him, tasted him, heard him. He was everywhere all at once, and it was exactly as Y/N wanted it. She wanted him to leave more pieces of himself inside her, feel him shape her into a better version of herself, help her along the path to becoming the person she was supposed to be. There was a piece of him in each one of her molecules, and though she was sure this was an aspect of her life that would never truly dissipate, she knew Harry would always be with her. Wherever she went, whoever she was with, he had helped her on her way to discover herself, and for that she would always be grateful.

They kissed one another one more time, Y/N moaning against him as he thrust into her, this one rougher than all the ones before. Breaking away, they looked into each other’s eyes as she dug her nails into his scalp and shoulder. She came. The tenseness in her core erupted and she felt the effect like an earthquake all over her body. She was gasping, moaning, and looking into his eyes as pure bliss washed over her. The leg Harry was holding shook and it was a wonder the other one hadn’t given out from under her. She held onto him as she came down, smiling at him as if she couldn’t believe they’d just done that.

Y/N wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders, holding onto him as he pounded into her, the veins in his neck popping out. She knew he was close, saw it and felt it. As his pace picked up some more, though she was still incredibly sensitive, Y/N felt a familiar burn herself. This had never happened before, she usually needed some time to gather herself and to not be as sensitive down there before she could go for a round two, but something about today was different. She gasped as Harry hit a particular spot and he looked into her eyes, refusing to keep them close as he had that last minute.

“Harry,” she moaned, making him grab her boob, squeezing it seductively.

Suddenly, there was a sound coming from outside. The two of them had been too caught up in one another and their little moment that they hadn’t heard the approaching car. Though Y/N quickly realised what was happening, Harry continued to fuck her, oblivious until a car door closed with a bang outside in the courtyard. He removed his face from where he had rested his forehead against hers, trying to peek out of the foggy window.

“Dax,” Harry said. “Think the rest as well.”

“Everyone’s here?!” Y/N hissed. “Everyone’s outside?!”

“Looks like it,” Harry said, turning back to her. “Just-“ He put one hand over her mouth. “Be quiet.”

“I’m not the one that needs to be quiet,” she said against his palm, but her voice was muffled by him covering her mouth. “You’re loud.”

“I’m not bloody loud, what’re you talking about?” Harry furrowed his brows.

Y/N chuckled. “Who cares? Just get a move on so we can go out there.”

Harry smiled and pressed his forehead against hers again, gripping her thigh harder as he began to make as small and quick movements as possible, trying not to make any noise. His pace, his flow, felt heavenly. Her eyes fluttered shut, digging her nails into Harry’s back. By the looks of it, this exact angle and tempo was doing it for Harry as well. He looked at her as he neared his climax, doing as Y/N said and trying to keep his mouth shut and moans to a minimum. She could tell he was struggling, and she squeezed his shoulder in encouragement as he continued to barely make any noise.

“Harry?!” Dax called from the front door, walking into the cottage. More footsteps sounded behind him and Harry stopped abruptly, looking over at the door through the blurry glass of the shower door. “Mate, where are you?”

Harry and Y/N looked at one another, eyes wide as they listened for more movement outside.

“Found him, Dax, Jo?” Fatima called from outside, her footsteps along with, what Y/N could only assume, Amir and Ellie nearing the cottage.

“No, he’s not here,” Jo answered.

“Where the fuck could he have gone? Not like he’s supposed to be anywhere else, is it?” Dax asked no one in particular. “He wasn’t in the lighthouse either?”

“No, but he just did his 9am,” Amir answered.

“What the fuck, then,” Dax said. The door into the bathroom burst open and Y/N tried not to scream. Harry pressed his body against Y/N’s so Dax wouldn’t see any of her. “Haz-“ Everything was disturbingly silent for a single second before Dax realised what he must be looking at. “OH!”

“A bit preoccupied at the moment, Dax!” Harry shouted out at his best mate where he still stood in the bathroom doorway.

“Right! Sorry!” Dax slammed the bathroom door shut. Harry and Y/N looked at one another, both giggling and doing their best not to be heard by the others outside. “We’ll just fuck off outside then!”

There was a slight silence outside in the cottage till Ellie finally asked, “What’s going on?”

“Harry and Y/N,” Dax explained. “They’re in the shower.”

“What?!” exclaimed Fatima.

“In the shower, or in the shower shower?” Amir asked, it sounded like he was wiggling his eyebrows along with his question.

“Mate. No,” Jo said.

“Would you lot mind buggering off for a bit?!” Harry shouted, making a flurry of footsteps move hastily towards the front door. They could all be heard outside, chatting excitedly and fast. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, making Y/N laugh.

“Right,” Harry said, bringing her leg higher up as to get better access. She gasped. “Where were we?”

She bit her lips, grinning at him. Harry started at the same pace as before, fucking her quickly and with small movements as not to be heard, not sure how well the sound of their wet bodies slamming together would carry. Y/N reached for the lube, making Harry let out a small breath as if he had completely forgotten about it, but appreciated that Y/N had. Once again, she had to angle herself so best to access his bum, and when she did, she slid her fingers slowly into him.

“Fuck,” Harry hissed.

He continued with his small and quick movements as to make it easier for Y/N to keep her fingers in. She curled them slightly upward, watching as Harry’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Y/N,” he moaned, voice trembling slightly. She kept her fingers like that, feeling that, with each of Harry’s movements, he ignited the fire inside, making her heat up all over again. Harry’s whimpers got more frequent and desperate, not fully knowing what to do with himself as his orgasm got closer and closer.

“Come on, baby,” she mumbled, and that was all it took. Her calling him that. Finally, Harry was brought towards climax. He came looking into Y/N’s eyes, everyone and everything else completely forgotten as he filled the condom, moaning her name and gripping her body harder. She had felt the oncoming second orgasm herself, and though she hadn’t thought Harry would’ve noticed her like that, he had.

“I can go down on you,” he offered, pulling himself out of her. “We can-“

“-No,” Y/N laughed. “They’re waiting for you.”

“For us,” Harry corrected her, getting up as he had hunched down, ready to make her come a second time. “They’re waiting for us.”

Y/N smiled at him, stroking his cheek as he stood before her. He leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips as they relished in the last of their moment together.

“I’ll make it up to you later,” he said against her lips, making Y/N’s tummy, which was already filled with butterflies, tickle with anticipation.

“I’ll just wash up.”

“Alright, I’ll wait.”

Harry dried himself off as quickly as possible, running out into the living room to get a new pair of boxers and jeans along with Y/N’s dress and jumper. He put on his underwear and jeans, then picked up the tee shirt Y/N had been wearing the bed the night before, making a note to sniff it in front of Y/N just so he could watch her laugh at him. She got dressed as well, suddenly filled with dread for what was waiting for them outside. Once in the foyer, Harry pulled her closer, kissing her one more time, smiling against her. She giggled, kissing him again before they both turned to the door and walked outside.

Everyone was sat on the grass beside the lighthouse, not too close to the cliff, but close enough so that the wind was rather harsh. As Harry and Y/N approached, Fatima looked over her shoulder, smiling at them before she alerted the others, making them all stand up. Y/N felt a tenseness in her chest, terrified of what would happen the second they started chatting. She hadn’t forgotten the look of hurt on Dax’s face, or how hurt Fatima had been, or how Jo looked between Harry and Y/N, refusing to believe what they were saying was true.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Harry asked once they were close enough to talk.

Amir’s eyes fell on Y/N, giving her a smile before he looked at Harry. Jo opened their mouth, crossing their arms over their chest. “Think you got some explaining to do. Both of you.”

Harry looked at Y/N who glanced back at him, but she quickly stared at the others, feeling her hands go all clammy.

“Well,” Harry started, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s… it’s probably what you think.”

“What’s that?” asked Dax.

“I’m in love with Y/N,” Harry said, as if it was the simplest and most profound fact of the world. “And she’s in love with me.”

Dax looked between them, studying each of their faces. “Alright,” he said, pausing for two seconds. “Why bother lying, then?”

“That’s… That’s not a lie.”

“I didn’t mean lie about that, why did you have to lie about being a couple when you were on your way to become one in the first place?”

Harry furrowed his brows. “It’s not that simple, though. We didn’t know we’d end up caring for one another like that when we first met.”

“Dax,” Fatima said, raising her eyebrows at him. “I know you’re hurt Harry lied to you-“

“-Nah, I’m not hurt. I’m fuming.”

Harry let out a huff. “Thought you were over it, mate.”

“But I’m not.” Dax looked Harry dead in the eyes. “Look, I’m happy for you. Genuinely, I am. You more than anyone else deserve to find love, especially when that someone you fall in love with is Y/N, yeah? But…” Dax trailed off, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m still hurt that my best friend lied to me. I tell you everything, Haz.”

“I wanted to tell you, Dax. Really.”

“But?”

“But you love to gossip, mate! You’re just like your mum!”

“I wouldn’t have told people about this, Harry.”

Harry sighed. “Listen, be mad, yeah? Take your time to be mad. I’m sorry.” He looked at all his other friends as well. Amir, Fatima, Jo, Ellie. “I’m sorry for lying about this. It was a stupid thing to lie about, but I was desperate and before either of us really knew what was going on, we were just fake dating.”

Ellie nodded along, smiling a little at both Y/N and Harry’s wet hairs. “But you’re not fake dating anymore… right?”

Harry smiled as well, looking at Y/N. “No.”

“Aww, you two!” Fatima exclaimed.

“We haven’t discussed it yet, she told me yesterday that she won’t leave St Ives, so…” Harry shrugged, holding up his hand to stop Fatima, Amir, Ellie and Jo from celebrating. “It’s not official.”

“But you fancy each other, yeah?” Amir grinned. “That’s enough, innit?”

“So it’s really not fake this time?” Dax asked, looking at Harry as he spoke. “You’re genuinely in love?”

“Mate,” Harry said, a red colour crossing his cheekbones. “You just saw us shagging in the shower.”

Jo howled with laughter and Ellie giggled, looking over at Fatima who was having trouble holding Amir up as he was pretending to faint from shock. Even Dax had trouble not laughing at that, a single chuckle escaping his lips as he studied Y/N and Harry who were both flustered, hair still a mess from just having gotten out of the shower. Harry took a step closer to Y/N, nudging her with his hips. Once their eyes met, Y/N was taken back to their shared moment in the shower, blushing furiously again.

“Alright,” Dax said, smiling at them. “I guess I was just offended.”

“Don’t make this about yourself, bruv,” Amir said, walking over to stand between Y/N and Harry, flinging his arms over their shoulders. “Everything’s back to normal, innit?”

“Well, a new normal,” Harry pointed out. “We still have to figure out a lot of things.”

“Ah, well, that’ll come easy,” Amir smiled. “Bottom line, for us, nothing’s really gonna change. We always thought you were together, and now you’re actually together.”

Y/N looked over at Fatima who shrugged, clearly agreeing with her cousin.

Amir patted them each on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “We came here to check if Harry was alright. Haven’t heard from you in a couple of days, mate.”

“No, I’ve…” Harry’s eyes flickered over to Y/N before he met Amir’s eyes again. “Been a bit… well, sad.”

“That’s okay,” Amir said. “You feeling better now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry smiled, looking at Y/N again. “Loads.”

“Wicked.” Amir gave Harry a pat on the back. “Pub, anyone?”

“It’s not even noon,” Fatima said, raising her eyebrows at Amir.

“Who cares? Everyone’s about to go back to their everyday lives, think we should just spend a day doing nothing in particular, don’t you?” Amir looked around the ground with his mouth agape in anticipation.

“Actually,” Harry said, looking apologetically at Amir. “Y/N and I gotta go to the farm real quick.”

Amir’s face fell. “Why?”

“We just need to talk to Jessa, Gracie, lolo, and uncle Timmy. You know…” Harry motioned with his arms before him. “About what Y/N and I did.”

“Ahh!” Amir gave Harry’s back a pat, nodding his head. “Yeah, alright.”

Y/N’s heart fell again. She hadn’t even thought of that. They would have to face Jessa and Grace as well, and apologise for what they had done. Y/N wouldn’t be mad at Jessa if she didn’t forgive her or Harry for this. After all, they had lied to her all summer, not thinking that they’d end up actually falling in love with one another in the end.

“You’ll pop by later, then? Balcony?” Dax asked, Harry nodding as an answer that they would. “Wicked! See you in an hour or summat then.”

Y/N and Harry watched as the others made their way over to Dax’s car, Amir jumping onto Jo’s back and Ellie laughing her ass off when Jo almost face-planted from the unexpected impact. Harry walked over to Y/N, raising his eyebrows slowly as if to ask

Hadn’t been there since everything had happened. This was where her family had shown up and where Dominic had dragged Harry to the ground. The thought made her sick. Her family had all been here and she had let them treat Harry like that. Taking a deep breath, Y/N just looked at the farm, feeling as if she should just turn back around and walk away from it all. She didn’t deserve to be close to Jessa, or Grace, or lolo-

“Flower?”

She looked at Harry who was watching her with big eyes.

“You alright?”

“No. Not really, no.”

Harry nodded slightly. “Yeah, it’s… I mean, it’s gonna be alright. I know it is. But Jessa… Blimey, I hate disappointing Jessa.”

“Has she given you a hard time before for disappointing her?”

“Yeah, and it was just as you can expected it to,” Harry chuckled. “She would give me the cold shoulder and make me feel bad till I finally gave in and apologised.”

“Oh, my word, Harry, we should’ve done this sooner-“

“-We weren’t on speaking terms then, were we?” Harry reasoned. “We have spent days trying to talk, and now we have. We’ve always needed to do this together. Don’t think it would’ve been completely alright till you came with to apologise as well, Jessa wouldn’t think so.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, I-“

“-Harry?”

They both turned to look at Jessa as she walked out of the hen house, lolo’s straw hat on her head and walking slowly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“Y/N?”

Hearing Jessa say her name was surreal, especially after everything. She didn’t sound mad; she didn’t sound disappointed. In fact, she just sounded confused, as if the sight before her was the most peculiar yet familiar thing in the world. Not wanting to postpone this any longer, Y/N started walking towards the farm, Harry following close behind her. As they walked through the gate, Jessa stopped walking, holding onto her basket filled with eggs as she watched them move to her. The door to the main house opened, Grace and lolo along with Tim stood there, eyes on Harry and Y/N as they stopped in front of Jessa. They were sure the others could hear them, Grace even walked a little closer as if she wanted to run to Harry and Y/N, but stopped herself as she noticed they were directing all their attention at Jessa.

“How are you feeling?” Jessa asked Harry, eyes scanning him from head to toe. “Not had any other hypo situations?”

“No,” Harry answered quickly. “No, I’ve been alright.”

Jessa nodded, eyes falling on Y/N. “They’ve gone back to Hampshire?”

Jessa didn’t have to say who she was talking about for Y/N to understand completely. The chat she had with Jessa Tuesday the week before still fresh in her mind. Y/N nodded as an answer to Jessa’s question. “They left a few days ago.”

“Good,” Jessa answered curtly. “Didn’t like them. Quite rude of them to just show up to a party like that unannounced.”

“Yeah, they’ve never much considered other people’s feelings.”

A small smile flickered over Jessa’s lips. “No, I could tell.”

Y/N smiled back a little, looking up to meet Harry’s eyes. She could tell he was about to speak, but she beat him to it, whipping her head in Jessa’s direction again. “We’re so sorry.” She glanced at Grace, lolo, and Tim as well. “So sorry.”

Harry looked away from Y/N at the others. “It’s all my fault.”

“Harry-“

“-No, Y/N, it is.” Harry let out a huge sigh, meeting Jessa’s eyes. “I’m sorry, nanay. I’ve always told you everything. Always. But you were fussing so much about how I was lonely at Clodgy, something I wasn’t. I was perfectly okay up there by myself, I like my own company. Ever since Emilia… well, I like being alone. But… But…” Harry stopped, growing red in the cheeks. “You know… I thought if I pretended to have a girlfriend, you’d get off my back a bit.” He let out a chuckle. “I should’ve known better, though. You just want what’s best for me, so you want to know every detail of everything.”

Jessa was eerily silent, not moving an inch.

“And I know it was a fucking daft move, alright? Well out of line for me to lie about something like that, a-and… and…” Harry looked down at Y/N. “And especially stupid of me to drag Y/N into it. She had no idea what she did when she went along to pretend to be my girlfriend on Fore Street that day.”

“Hang on,” Grace said, frowning. “We met Y/N on Fore Street.”

“Yeah, that was the first time I met Y/N myself.”

“That same day?” Tim asked.

“Yes.”

“And you just asked someone to me your fake girlfriend to further your lie?” Tim still sounded confused. Y/N’s palms were getting clammy.

“Y-Yes.” Harry nodded his head. “It’s entirely my fault.”

“Harry, no.” Y/N looked up at him. “I helped.”

“It wasn’t your idea, was it?”

Y/N was about to protest, said that it didn’t matter, but Harry went on.

“I went to the Inn to tell Y/N not to worry about this fake relationship of ours, ‘cause… I couldn’t keep it from you, Jessa. I couldn’t lie to you like that.” Harry sighed again. “But you had already told everyone, so we would’ve looked well stupid to just tell everyone that we lied, it wasn’t true, we weren’t a couple.”

“As opposed to everyone finding out at the party last Friday that it had been fake all this time?” Jessa asked, making both Harry and Y/N shut up.

A small silence stretched out then, when the only sound they heard was the wind blowing through the trees around them and the hens in the hen house. Y/N looked around at everyone before her, trying to see all of their reactions. No one spoke for what felt like a century, and it was hard to see what any of them thoughts because panic was starting to rise within Y/N. Did they all hate her? No one was saying anything, did they really detest her? What her and Harry had done, they’d never forgive them, would they? Y/N felt lightheaded, sure that she had never been anticipating an answer from someone as much as she was anticipating these people before her.

Suddenly, Jessa took a small step forward, her head cocked and eyes flicking between Y/N and Harry. She looked thoughtful, though no anger could be detected on her face.

“You know,” Jessa started, clutching the egg basket a little closer to her. “I never once doubted you two weren’t an item. Not once.”

Harry’s cheeks got redder, eyes falling to the ground.

“But I don’t think that’s something to be embarrassed about, Harry,” Jessa said, voice very soft all of a sudden and Y/N felt like crying. “I could tell there was something between you two that I hadn’t seen between you and Emilia, Harry. After Emilia left,” Jessa said, looking at Y/N now. “Harry was very sad at first, but I had never seen him as happy as that time after all that mourning. He was so, so happy. Just as he deserved. Wasn’t easy, losing his father… or my husband, like that.”

Y/N nodded, understanding that it must’ve been a grief unlike anything anyone would ever have the capability to explain.

“But the second you came into his life - when you arrived in St Ives, to be more specific, ‘cause you were kind of there while Harry lied about having a girlfriend – but when you came into his life… something in him shifted. He was still happy, still himself, but it comes easier to him now to articulate himself. To find his words. He had huge trouble with that before. Always had. Words, new beginnings, new opportunities, it’s all come easier to him since you came into his life. And that-“ Jessa pointed her finger at Harry’s chest as she met his eyes again. “-That is why I’m not mad now.”

Harry blinked.

“Whatever is going on between you two, it’s not fake. If you’re saying that, if you’ve ever said that or believed that, you’ve lied to yourselves, not to anyone else,” Jessa said. “Yes, you’ve lied to us about being in a relationship. Yes, it was a tragic thing to do.”

Harry winced at her words, nodding his head. Y/N knew she must’ve had the same reaction, but she didn’t know or care what she looked like just then. All she cared about was Jessa, Grace, lolo, and Tim.

“But,” Jessa continued. “I would’ve been mad if you two weren’t in love at all. I’m disappointed it took you two this long to admit it, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re both as oblivious as each other.” She let out a sigh. “You’re forgiven.” She met Y/N’s eyes, smiling. “Both of you.”

Y/N bit her lip as it started to tremble, everything she had felt these last few minutes finally leaving her. Relief and peace finally flooded through her veins.

“I meant what I said that day, Y/N,” Jessa said, taking Y/N’s hand with her free one. “You are loved unconditionally here, with us.”

Y/N nodded her head, squeezing Jessa’s hand.

“Right,” Jessa grinned, looking up at Harry. “Free for a cuppa, my lovelies?”

“No, uhm…” Harry ran a hand through his hair, smiling down at Jessa. “We’re going to the pub with the gang. Getting a quick pint in before summer ends.”

“How nice,” Jessa said. “You two will pop by tomorrow then?”

“Yes,” Y/N answered, and Jessa’s smile widened. The older woman took a few steps toward Y/N, wrapping her arm around her in a hug. Y/N hugged her back, forcing back the tears she felt pressing on.

“We’ll see you then,” Jessa said, going in to hug Harry next.

“See you!” Grace grinned as she ran over, arms outstretched for Y/N. Y/N giggled, hoping no one heard her strangled sob. She bent down, hugging Grace to her, closing her eyes as Grace’s hold on Y/N tightened. Lolo and Tim came over as well, both smiling at Y/N and giving her hugs, patting and stroking her back, as if they both knew how much she needed it. Harry and Y/N said the last few goodbyes to their family before they walked over to Harry’s van, sitting back there in silence.

Harry suddenly turned to look at Y/N, leaning over to take her face in his hands so roughly and unexpectedly that Y/N squealed. He kissed her firmly on the lips, leaving small pecks all over her face as a grin erupted across his lips. Y/N laughed, holding onto his wrists and closing her eyes until he stopped. All the way to The Balcony Bar and Kitchen, Harry held onto Y/N’s hand, clutching onto it between changing gears, never once letting go voluntarily. Y/N thought this was quite funny, but she didn’t say this. She appreciated how he wanted to stay close to her all he could, whenever he could, just as he had said last night at 3am.

The Balcony Bar and Kitchen was an old pub, but at the far end of the pub, the entire wall facing the beach was made out of tall windows. Y/N could make out their little gang sitting at one of the tables, talking merrily amongst themselves as her and Harry strolled up to the bar.

“What do you fancy?” Harry asked her, standing so close that their sides were flush against one another. Y/N suddenly wanted to be back in the Clodgy cottage again so Harry could make up for before, as he had promised her he would once they were back there later. A chill went up her spine and she smiled, loving the fact that she could stand there and imagine a future, no matter how near or far away it was, where Harry was present.

“Whatever you’re having,” Y/N said simply.

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Really sure?”

“Really, really sure, in fact.”

Harry chuckled, ordering two pints from the bartender who had come up to them just then.

“Y/N.”

Once again, Y/N felt like she could’ve done without hearing that voice again. She thought she would’ve heard it for the last time at the end of summer party, but she guessed she hadn’t been that lucky. Looking to her right, she saw Emilia standing there. Harry tensed to her left, watching as the bartender made them their pints.

“Could we have a chat?” Emilia asked, taking Y/N completely off guard. It took her a few tries to get the correct words out, but Y/N managed to utter a quick, “Yeah,” to which Emilia smiled gratefully.

“I’ll take these to our table,” Harry said to Y/N, giving Emilia a smile before he walked back over to their little group by the window.

Emilia inhaled slowly, looking down at the bar counter before she met Y/N’s eyes again. “It’s been a weird summer, hasn’t it?”

Y/N was still not sure what was going on or why Emilia was trying to make small talk. If she wanted to say something to Y/N, then she should just say it right away. Y/N had people she’d rather be with.

Emilia must’ve sensed Y/N’s confusion at what was going on, so she sighed and turned to look at Y/N fully. “I just wanna talk about everything. I could tell there was a bit of tension between us at the end of summer party.”

Y/N rested her elbow on the counter beside her. “Yeah, there was.”

“I just wanted to talk that out, ‘cause I don’t know what you think, but it’s a bit stupid to have gotten off on the wrong foot like this when we barely know each other, isn’t it?”

Y/N took a moment to study Emilia, trying to decipher if the words she had just spoken were genuine. “Yeah.”

“I came back from Munich and found out that Harry had a girlfriend, and I was delighted. He-“

“-You were?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, of course,” Emilia answered. “Harry deserves to be happy.”

Y/N tried not to let it show on her face that she was shocked by this news. “He does.”

“I was told he had a girlfriend, and the second we met, I just felt like you didn’t like me.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Was a bit hard to when you used the power you know you have over Harry to show me that you still have the ability to make him do anything you want. And I think you got the idea that I ‘didn’t like you’ when I told Harry I felt uncomfortable with this, and he stopped giving you attention.”

Emilia fell quiet.

“Am I right?”

“You don’t know what happened between us, Harry and I.”

“I do, in fact. Harry’s told me.”

Emilia’s mouth was a thin line now. “Alright. My boyfriend of one year back in Munich broke up with me and I was sad about it. It was wrong of me to seek comfort in Harry, I’m sorry.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows some. “So… my theory’s correct? You wanted to know that you still exerted some dominance over Harry, even after all those years, and have him crawl back to you so you’d feel… what, better about yourself after being broken up with? Did you want someone to make you feel better?”

“I’m aware it was wrong of me, okay-“

“-No, I don’t think you get how fucking disgusting that is.”

Emilia turned silent again, blinking at Y/N.

“You didn’t even talk to him after you left. His dad died and his girlfriend broke up with him, he was left completely broken ‘cause of you, but he’s too good to say any of this to your face,” Y/N said, taking a small step forward.

“I left because of my mental health.”

“And that’s valid, but you should also know that by doing that, you left a hole in Harry that it took a while for him to fill up himself. You don’t get to walk in and out of someone’s life whenever it suits you, especially when they’re doing so much better now than they ever did with you there.”

Emilia looked away.

“It might feel like it, but you’re not the only person in the world that possesses feelings. We all do. The way you keep treating others and neglecting the fact that your actions will stay with them forever, is a dangerous sort of ignorance that I suggest you do something about.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t want to. I’ve heard enough from everyone else.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not my decision to make, but in my opinion, you should think twice before you try and make a place for yourself in Harry’s life again. His friends and family don’t really have a great picture of you any longer.”

Emilia sighed, meeting Y/N’s eyes again. “You know, I get where you’re coming from.”

It was Y/N’s turn to be silent now.

“You want to protect Harry, make sure nothing happens to him, and I know I hurt him bad, so naturally you don’t want me in his life. But, as you said, that’s his call,” Emilia said. “I shouldn’t have gone after Harry when I came back from Munich, it was stupid of me, especially considering how happy he looked with you. Granted, it was all fake, but I know Harry and I could tell he fancied the pants off you.”

Y/N gave Emilia a small smile, trying to make some sort of peace.

“I won’t stand in the way of you two.”

“I appreciate that. I’m sure Harry does as well.”

Emilia nodded, giving Y/N a smile.

“Y/N!” Fatima called from where she sat with all the others. When Y/N looked in their direction, she simply could not help her smile. They were all chatting amongst themselves, laughing at something, and Fatima and Harry were looking her way, beckoning her over.

“Hope you have a good day, Emilia,” Y/N said-

“You too, Y/N.”

And with that, Y/N walked back over to her friends. Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her to him where he stood at the edge of the table, everyone else perched on bar stools around the tall table. Fatima clinked her glass against Y/N’s, Jo grinned in Y/N’s direction, while Ellie, Amir and Dax were in an animated discussion about something Y/N didn’t catch. Harry leaned down, pressing a small peck to Y/N’s temple, and the grin that spread out across Y/N’s smile almost hurt. A sort of restless anticipation mingled with such utter contentment that it was hard for her to think she’d ever lived, breathed, loved, anywhere but right there in St Ives.

Thursday, 10 September

The universe would always balance itself out, Y/N McKay was aware of this. She was aware that if she had faith and believed everything happens for a reason, it would make the tough times of her life easier to mentally handle. If she did good, the universe would work to give back to her in some other form. And now, after a summer randomly spent in Cornwall, she had found it in herself to believe in destiny as well.

She believed that there was a place where she belonged. People she was supposed to meet, and places she was supposed to see. These people, places, and feelings would help you along the road to self-realisation. They would shape her and make everything make sense, would make all the suffering and the struggles she had faced up until then worth it in a way. Each one of the people Y/N had met in St Ives had had that effect on her. They had made her realise things about herself and her life that she would never have figured out without them. She took that summer with her for the rest of her life; letting the sun beams of St Ives shine through in her smile, the goodness of the locals reflect in her own acts of kindness, the calming feeling of walking along the sand of Porthminster Beach show in her warmness and relaxing effect on the people around her.

Y/N had no idea when she walked out of the door of the building in Bethnal Green, London that September 10th that the summer she had just experienced would play that big of a role in shaping the continuation of her entire life. She had no idea that she would receive top marks on her UCAT she took in Bethnal Green, the following day. Nor that she would attend University of Plymouth for the next six years, graduating with a degree in Dentistry. And she had no idea that, even after all those years, she’d still be with the lighthouse keeper of St Ives. Only now that she was done with University, she moved back to her hometown, to her family, friends, and boyfriend, and would live there for the rest of her life.

No, Y/N didn’t know any of that as she walked out after her UCAT on the second Thursday of September that year. She chose not to think too much about her future at that time, realising that whatever would be, would be, and there was nothing she could change about that now.

Harry, who had driven her to London that day, was stood by his car not too far away, looking down at his phone as he replied to a text. She was sure no one had ever stood by their car like this, with no other agenda than to wait for her before this. Then again, Harry would always do stuff like this as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him, expecting nothing in return. Which had come as a shock to Y/N at first, but once she realised she was doing the same thing for the people she loved as well, she understood.

The UCAT had been awful, at least at first. The questions were difficult, she had to rack her brain properly for most of them, and she could swear she had heard someone crying at one point. She had to put a hand on her own cheek to check for tears, scared that it had been her. But then, during the chaos of everything, she remembered what Harry had said to her when they woke up in the Clodgy cottage that same morning, “It’s a beautiful day to do beautiful things,” and her nerves calmed themselves considerably. Because he was right. It was a beautiful day and she would do beautiful things. The thought of getting out of there and to Harry again was enough motivation to get her through the rest of the UCAT.

Upon hearing some footsteps, Harry looked in the direction of where they were coming. He instantly shoved his phone back down into the pockets of his denim jeans, smiling at Y/N as she approached him.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve got a good feeling,” she admitted, walking over to where he was standing. “But I don’t want to get my hopes up. I get the results back in 24 hours.”

Harry huffed, sliding his thumb reassuringly over her cheek. “You know what I think?”

“Think I already do.”

“You’ll do amazing, the results will be exactly as you dreamed they’d be, and life will be ama-“

“-Amazing,” Y/N finished, making Harry chuckle. “You’ve said that word a lot this last month.”

“Can you blame me?” Harry asked, resting his hand at the back of her neck, bringing her to him so he could plant a kiss to her forehead. “Everything’s been amazing this last month. So I therefore believe that the UCAT results will reflect that.”

Y/N giggled again, walking over to the other side of Harry’s van and getting in. The two of them got comfortable and Harry started driving back to St Ives. Y/N knew how much Harry hated London, and especially the traffic there. He had made it very clear when they had entered the capital that he couldn’t stand Londoners, something that made Y/N giggle. She never saw him have proper road rage, this was the first time she’d ever truly seen it, and it has been more entertaining than she had thought.

He was no better on their way out of the city, hissing curse words under his breath as he honked at reckless drivers or pedestrians that crossed the street without any regard for oncoming traffic. Y/N knew that no matter what, she could not end up attending a University in London, because Harry would not survive the trips to and from the capital.

It was a long drive back to St Ives and she fell asleep once they were out of London and Harry didn’t wake her. He knew she had been stressing the last few weeks to revise and get everything ready for the UCAT, and now that everything was over, he must’ve thought she deserved a small break from it all, some time to relax. When Y/N woke up in St Ives a few hours later, she smiled a little to herself, looking down at the tote bag by her feet that she had filled with books. She had been ready to read out loud to Harry, but she had simply not had the energy this time around.

“Alright?” Harry asked, smiling over at Y/N as he drove up the hill to Clodgy Lighthouse. He took her hand, kissing her palm softly.

“Just dead tired,” Y/N answered, yawning slightly. “I might take a nap once we’re back.”

“Or you can wake up.”

She blinked, looking over at Harry who was smiling a little to himself. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll show you,” Harry said, grinning now as he killed the engine.

Not really knowing what he had planned, Y/N was apprehensive at first. She saw Harry walk over to the field beside the cottage, not really caring to know what he was doing. She was too tired for that. Next, she rubbed her eyes and took her seatbelt off, climbing out of the van to join him. Harry ran for the lighthouse and Y/N followed, smiling at his eagerness to wake her up. The sun was shining brightly above them, not a single cloud in sight, and even though it was September, it was fairly warm out despite the wind.

Harry showed the way up the lighthouse, grinning back at her every once in a while. And though Y/N wanted to ask him what he was up to this time around, she didn’t bother. She knew he’d be cryptic or leave her hanging, neither option seemed very appealing now that she was slightly irritable because of her lack of sleep. Harry opened the door out onto the gallery deck, letting Y/N wander out first. She raised her eyebrows some but did as she supposed he wanted her to. Walking out onto the deck, the wind hit her hard across the face. If you stood directly facing it, it was impossible to open your eyes completely. She could see what Harry meant by this being a method to wake up some.

“Please,” Harry said. “Go along.”

Y/N furrowed her brows, but walked further onto the deck, even though she was sure Harry would’ve fit perfectly fine next to where she had originally standing.

“I’ll owe you my life if you just go along for a minute or two, yeah?”

Y/N’s frown deepened as she looked at him. ���What?”

“I don’t usually do this,” Harry grinned. “I mean, I never do this. I’ve never done this before. But, you see…” He walked closer to her, taking her face in his hands. “My mum and my sister think I’ve got a girlfriend and I don’t.”

Y/N’s heart instantly melted, and she felt herself grinning right back at him.

“I was wondering, if it’s not too much to ask, of course, if you’d like to be my girlfriend? My real, proper girlfriend.”

She laughed, shaking her head at him before taking a grip of his shirt and bringing him closer. Though she didn’t know why Harry needed to do this at the top of the lighthouse, right under the light that guided sailors home, she didn’t mind. This felt right. This felt like them. This was them. It was real, it felt silly, unexpected, and a little odd, but that was what it felt like being with Harry.

She looked up into his eyes, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll be your real, proper girlfriend.”

Harry let out a breath of relief and grinned down at her, bringing her closer to him and planting a misplaced kiss onto her lips. They both giggled against one another. It hadn’t struck Y/N until now that they hadn’t made it official like this. Too much had been on her mind, she hadn’t allowed much else besides the UCAT to take up her time prior to this moment, but how that it had finally happened, Y/N felt just as relieved as Harry looked to be. She was glad that Harry had waited until now, after the UCAT, to ask, and she was also very glad to see how eager he had been to ask her.

Harry pulled away, detaching a hand from where it had rested at her neck, and held out a bellflower that he had picked outside the cottage. Reaching forward, he placed the bellflower behind Y/N’s ear, smiling to himself as he looked at it, the smile widening as he met her eyes. Y/N felt like she could burst with happiness in that very moment, probably lighting up all the oceans of the world with how much she was radiating.

“My bell room,” Harry said, touching the bellflower resting by her ear before he brought her in for another kiss.

A HUGE thank you to my amazing and beautiful beta readers! Couldn’t have written ST without them! 🌊 @aileenacoustic​​​​ 🌊 @bopbopstyles​​​​ 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh​​​​ 🌊 @harrys-shrooms 🌊 @honeydearly​​ 🌊 @sunflowers-styles​ 🌊 @watermelonsuger​​​​​ 🌊  @withallthelove-a​​​​​ 🌊

And so it’s over 😭 Thank you thank you thank you! From the bottom of my heart, thank you to each one of you who have been reading, reblogging, come to chat, or sent any sort of love ST’s way the last few months! There is something so liberating and beautiful about creating a world in which you feel peace, and then find that others find that same peace, that same sense of belonging, within the same world as you 💖 Each one of you remind me of why I continue to share my writing on here! Thank you for making writing, Tumblr, and fic fun! You all have my heart 💘 I LOVE YOU 💞💞

As for next fic project, as I’ve gotten quite a few questions about that already !! I’m gonna take a break from writing! Maybe a month, maybe two, dunno! I’ll still be writing some deleted scenes from ST and posting onto my Patreon, but as for a full 10+ chaptered fic, which is what I want to write next, I don’t know! But, as always, I’ll be tagging my posts with new fic tags and planning whenever I get an idea !!!! So keep an eye out lmao !!!!

Besides that, here are two songs I imagine would be playing if the end credits to ST was rolling right now 🐚 You can find the rest of the ST playlist here!

As ST!Harry said, I love you immeasurably, and as Jessa said, you’ll always have a home and a place you belong, here, in the ST universe 🌊

Your bestie, Nora ✨✨

FIC PAGE | COME TALK !!!

[teamhook]

Finding Hope :: A CS August Rush AU birthday fic

Hellol! Okay, before I go on. I swear this will be the last WIP I start. I had to. This story is for my favorite dork @hookedonapirate cause I love her to death. She had asked me to write it before but at the time I was writing the Forever My Girl CS AU.

Happy Birthday!! Hope you like your present.

Thanks to my beta @ultraluckycatnd she is the best!!

FFN

AO3

A love for music unites an unlikely pair. The rhapsody they unknowingly created will give life to the hope they still have in their hearts.

Killian Jones and his older brother Liam had arrived from London with nothing more than the clothes on their back to pursue a music career. The lives of the Jones brothers had been difficult since the beginning. Their mother died at a young age and their father had decided he was not made to be a family man.

The Jones brothers had formed The Outlaws with some fellow expatriates they met along the way. The venues they played weren't the best, but they managed to make a name for themselves enough to have steady gigs.

Emma Nolan had grown up with loving parents but after an unfortunate accident, she was left alone. Afterwards, her grandfather took her in. George Spencer was an ill-tempered man. He wasn't a doting person, which caused Emma to become closed off. She focused on solace in the cello. Thankfully, the man valued pomp and grandeur so, at the thought of his granddaughter attending Juilliard, he eagerly made it possible.

On a rare night out with her best friend Elsa, they decide to go to listen to a little-known rock band called The Outlaws they saw fliers for. It was love at first sight. The lead singer mesmerized the young cellist with his voice. The girls waited for the band to finish their set to introduce themselves to them. Elsa and Emma fit in with the band perfectly. The Jones brothers had quickly gravitated towards the blonde beauties.

Emma and Killian had slowly drifted away from the group. It ended up being the most magical night for the young lovers above New York's Washington Square.

Months later, Emma finds out she is pregnant. Somehow, she already loves her kid so much. Her grandfather makes his displeasure known, however, every moment of her pregnancy.

The day her life changed was gloomy and rainy. After an argument with George, Emma had gone to the store to buy some last-minute things for her baby. The drunk driver came out of nowhere. When she gives birth prematurely, her grandfather takes advantage while she is unconscious and gives the baby girl up for adoption. The moment Emma wakes up, she is told the news that her baby is dead. The news shatters her musical dreams and any hope of happiness.

You're not special. You're just like the rest of us... alone, nothing but an orphan.

The music... Can you hear it? Listen... I can hear it everywhere.

It's in the wind ...

in the light...

It's all around us.

All you have to do is open your heart and listen.

Sometimes the world tries to knock the hope out of you.

They tried to stop me from hearing the music...

I believe in music the way others believe in fairy tales. When I'm alone it builds inside me eager to erupt into a melody. I like to believe that what I hear came from my parents. That the music I hear is the same one they heard the night they met...

Maybe that's how they found each other and that's how they'll know I am theirs and find me...

Hope Swan had grown up in foster care. As a baby, she had been adopted but returned once the couple was blessed with their own flesh and blood. After that, she bounced from foster home to foster home.

In her shared room at the group home, she's currently at, Hope records herself humming a song that keeps playing in her mind, but is rudely interrupted by her roommate who mocks her. "You are not special. You're just like us, an unwanted orphan."

The girl walks away, slamming the door.

Hope's eyes water at the mean girl's words. She knows it in her heart that she is wanted and someday she will find her parents. She continues recording her humming of the song in her heart.

Hope is now eleven years old. She stands in the back of the group as one of the younger girls is adopted by a couple. Maybe she should be bitter and want to be adopted but if she was, she would never find her parents. They're out there and she will find them.

Hope runs away once more from her group home. Living on the streets she makes friends easily, but is still guarded. She knows that someday her parents will come looking for her. All she wants is to go home.

As she wanders the streets, runaway Hope Swan is getting closer to find her home. She knows she will find her family. All she has to do is listen to the music in her heart and follow it.

A kind man, Merlin, is assigned Hope Swan's case. She wasn't a trouble maker, but she was reportedly closed off with the couples. He is notified that she has run away. She has a history of running away. The picture of the young girl saddens him. He wishes he can find her and place her in a good home. She is a pretty girl, with blonde hair, vibrant sea-blue eyes, dimples, and a slightly dimpled chin. He posts her picture on the board.

Emma Nolan had moved away after losing her daughter. Her little girl, her grandfather told her the baby was a tiny girl. The heartbreak led her to become a music teacher to kids. She was always surrounded by children and music. That was the way she chose to honor her child. An unexpected call from her grandfather's doctor makes her break a promise she had made to herself years ago. He is the only family she has left.

Once she arrives at his house, she is summoned to his death bed.

His eyes tear up. "I thought you wouldn't come."

"I don't hate you Grandpa, but my heart hasn't healed. Time will never heal this wound," she sniffled.

He closes his watery eyes. "I think I can help with that."

Emma gets closer to his bed, confused. "How can you say that? My child is gone! You didn't want her, so you threw her away while I slept. You took that away from me. I couldn't hold her!"

"Emma, enough!" he screams, then immediately starts coughing from the effort.

"I'm sorry, I made a mistake. I know now that family is precious, that image doesn't matter. Emma, I have a confession. I hope it's not too late and that you will find it in your heart to forgive me."

Emma stares at him.

"She's alive. Your little girl is alive."

"What? How can you be so cruel and say that to me!" Emma says with disbelief and tears pooled in her eyes.

"Because it's the truth. She is alive. I gave her up for adoption, and I was the one who signed the papers. I was your next of kin since you weren't married."

Emma gapes at the old man as she let her limp body drop to the chair next to his bed. "You gave my daughter away as if she was property because I embarrassed you?"

George Spencer can't keep his eyes on his granddaughter. The once-proud man weakened by age and disease casts his eyes down in shame. "In my safe, you will find the documents."

"What good will that do me?" Emma asks.

"Emma, my attorney can help you find her," he says quietly.

"But-"

"Emma, if your parents were here, they would tell you that you should never lose hope," he says.

Emma stands up. "You're right, I'm going to find my daughter."

George sighs as he falls into a deep sleep, his machines flatlining. The nurse that had given them privacy to talk rushes in as soon as the machine goes off.

Emma finds the papers and with trembling hands, calls Mr. Gold, the attorney.

The man is a ruthless slimy bastard. He tries to convince Emma that her kid is better off where she is. Of course, he would say that seeing he had helped her grandfather do this to her; he was just covering his ass. She doesn't care about that. All she wants is to get her kid. She has a daughter and she is out there. She hopes to God that she is being taken care of.

Killian Jones had moved to California not long after The Outlaws broke up. He had given up his dream of singing, but somehow had managed to gain a thriving career as an agent.

He had also distanced himself from the memory of Emma. After the band broke up, his brother and former bandmates had moved to Boston. Killian thought the further away he could get would be better, though. He tried forgetting her, but he knew he could never forget her. It was only one night, but he would belong to her for the rest of time.

Liam had called him a few days prior to ask if he wanted to join them in a reunion of sorts. They were going to play at the little place where he had met Emma. The joint was going out of business so in an effort to raise money to save it, The Outlaws had agreed to come out of retirement for one night only.

Killian had yet to agree, but 'what if' rattled in his brain. Something inside him tugged at his heart. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants gets what he deserves, Liam had told him over and over. He decides he will do it. He will fly to New York and look for Emma. He prays to every deity he can that she is not married. It's a selfish thought, but he couldn't bear it if she isn't meant for him.

Killian picks up the phone and dials his brother's number. "Liam, I'll be there."

"Brother, you'll do it? What happened to never setting foot in New York?" Liam asks.

"Liam, are you going to question my decision? I thought you would be happy," Killian says through gritted teeth.

"I am, I am. I'm just surprised. Killian, this doesn't have anything to do with her, does it?"

"Brother," Killian sighs, "Even if it was, I don't have a way to contact her." Sure he was lying, but his brother didn't have to know all his reasons.

"We are driving out there," Liam says.

"I'll fly. I will text you the details once I've made arrangements," Killian says.

"Alright, see you then," Liam adds. "Brother, it's going to be good seeing you after so long. I miss you."

Killian sighs. "I miss you too."

The line disconnects. Alright Emma Nolan, what have you been up to? he thinks as he enters her name in the browser's search engine. He had thought of looking for her before, but he had never found any sign of her online. He knows her family has money but somehow she has managed to stay hidden. The only information that would come up was of her grandfather's business deals. His heart tells him that this time, though, things would be different.

Sure enough, he finds one headline: "George Spencer dies at home after a long battle with heart disease."

Killian reads the headline carefully and his heart sparks with hope to see Emma again. The newspaper lists her as the sole survivor of her grandfather's Estate. That means she would have to be at his home. He winces at the thought. He knows that his method to approach her while grieving will be considered to be in bad form, but if it is the only chance he has, he has to make the best of the situation. He takes a deep breath and alters his flight plans so he can arrive a couple of days earlier.

Mr. Gold had changed his tune when Emma didn't fall for his manipulations and offered his services. Emma reluctantly accepted his help. He told her to give him a couple of hours and at that time, he would have information to make her search easier. He quickly found out that her daughter had ended up in foster care. He gave her the name of the caseworker assigned to Hope Swan. That was her baby's name. Emma tries to ignore the fact that her daughter is in the care of the state. She wonders what she looks like? Does she take after her or him? Killian Jones, he had never left her thoughts, but before it was painful to think of him because inevitably her thoughts would end on her daughter. Emma smiles, realizing how fitting the name Hope was for their daughter. Emma thanks Mr. Gold and goes to see Merlin Wilde.

Emma arrives at the CPS office. Her nerves are getting the best of her. She approaches the information desk. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Mr. Wilde?"

The woman looks bored. "Do you have an appointment?"

Emma shakes her head. "No, I'm sorry. I must speak to him, though."

The woman rolls her eyes. "Fill out the sign-in sheet. I will see if he can fit you in today." She gets up and heads to a door behind her desk.

Emma is about to sit down when something catches her eye. Pictures of missing kids. Runaways. She gravitates to the board. Her heart is beating so fast as her eyes land on a name, Hope Swan. Emma smiles as she stares at blue eyes that reminded her of the pair that stole her heart all those years back. The sound of someone clearing their throat startles her.

"I'm sorry for startling you, Miss Nolan. I'm Merlin Wilde." He smiles at her as he looks over her sign-in sheet and signals for her to follow him.

"Oh, no it's okay. Yes, I wanted to speak to you in private. My situation is not a common story," Emma says as she follows him to his office.

They enter his office and he kindly motions for her to take a seat.

Emma looks around the office. She tries to get a feel for the man. He seems kind, but looks can be deceiving.

"Miss Nolan, how may I help you? Is there a child in a situation you are concerned about?"

Emma nods. "Mr. Wilde, yes, in fact, that is the reason why I'm here."

"Alright," he starts taking notes. "May I have the child's name?"

"Hope Swan," Emma says. "I'm her mother."

Merlin looks up from his computer. "I'm sorry," he says as he types rapidly on his computer keyboard, before looking up quizzically. "Her case says she is in the care of Mrs. Emerald."

"I'm afraid you misunderstood me. I'm Hope's biological mother." She takes a deep breath. "I was young and unmarried when I got pregnant with her, and my grandfather didn't think having a child was appropriate." Her eyes begin to sting because of the tears. "He took it upon himself to decide that giving my daughter away while I was unconscious because of an accident was the appropriate decision to make. Until recently, I thought Hope was dead. I'm here because I need your help getting my daughter back. I understand she is in foster care, so it shouldn't be a big deal, right?"

Merlin keeps his eyes on her and laughs. "She is a good kid, the people that had fostered her before never had a complaint about her. She loves music and she always hummed a melody to herself. She was just not open to letting them in. It's like she knew she didn't belong there. I'm afraid that has caused her to run away on several occasions. I was just informed she ran away from the last home."

Emma's eyes tear up. "I loved my daughter from the moment I knew she was there. I used to play a song on the cello for her that her father sang the night we met. Until the day I thought I had lost her, I played the same song. I need to find her."

"And we will, Miss Nolan. I have put up fliers all over the city."

Emma nods. "I will look for her myself. I plan on hiring a private investigator. Could I have a picture of her?"

"Of course, Miss Nolan. I will do all in my power to help get your daughter back. I'm going to go looking for her at Washington Square Park. That is a hot spot for runaways. If you would like to join me? We might get lucky," he says as he hands her the picture of Hope from her file.

Emma smiles. "Sure, I will. Thank you for asking."

Hope is sitting on a bench at Washington Square Park and then she hears some music playing. Instantly, she is drawn to it. A boy around her age is playing the guitar. She smiles wide and sits down to enjoy the show. People surround the boy as he plays and they drop change on a baseball cap on the floor. Once he finishes playing, the boy picks up his cap and puts the money in his pocket. He grabs his guitar and thanks the crowd before leaving.

Curious, Hope follows him to an abandoned theatre.

Killian arrives on the first flight of the day. He rents a car and makes his way to the Nolan Estate. He is a nervous wreck. What will Emma think of him showing up unannounced? He hopes she will be happy to see him.

The boy Hope was following introduces himself as Henry. She likes him. He is nice and he promptly explains that all the runaway children live there. They had been taken in by Walsh Oz, the "Wizard". The man provides a roof over their head and food.

"Don't worry, Hope. He will teach you how to perform in street corners to pay for your part. If you're lucky and any good, he will let you use one of the park's spots," Henry says. "When he gets home with food, I will introduce you."

Hope thinks to herself it couldn't be that bad. This way, she won't be picked on for playing music.

Henry smiles fondly at Hope. "So why did you run away?"

Hope smiles back. "I'm going to find my parents. How about you?"

"My adoptive mom didn't love me." He shrugs. "Hope, I know you will find them."

Hope beams. "Thank you, but how can you believe so?"

Henry smiles. "I have a feeling that you will find them and then you will have your happy ending."

The Wizard hadn't always lived in condemned buildings. He once had been a success in his art but lost it due to some scandal years ago, but he could still spot talent. The young girl Henry had brought to him had loads of talent. She had played a song that most of the other kids couldn't play. The girl was magical. She appeared to be a musical genius with savant-like abilities and perfect pitch. He knows he could make a good living off of that girl. He smiles wickedly as the girl plays with his prized guitar, Roxanne. "Well, looks like we found our top earner thanks to Henry," The Wizard says to the group. He pulls Hope to the side. "Alright, you are going to be in my old spot at the park and you will be using Roxanne." He scrutinizes her. "Now what should we call you?"

"My name is Hope," she says.

He walks back and forth contemplating and shaking his head. "I know, I shall call you Odette."

Emma and Merlin arrive at the park. They split up in the hope to cover more ground.

Merlin posts missing posters of Hope on every corner he can; he even hands some to the people walking by.

Emma is walking around the corner when something catches her eye. They have some posters for an upcoming event displaying some talent from Julliard. She smiles wistfully, she misses her music. She takes out her phone to call an old friend. Elsa had ended up at their old school as a teacher.

Somehow her connection is stronger now. She has a sudden need to play. She feels it will help her connect with her daughter.

Tag list:

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera  @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615  @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713  @donteattheappleshook @reggieshamster @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes  @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena88 @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch​ @hookedonhiddles​ @onceratheart18​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @veryverynotgoodwrites​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​

[rosalies-rage]

folklore x Twilight: An Analysis

folklore's lyrics match Twilight uncannily well and here’s proof! 

my tears ricochet - Rosalie

We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And you're the hero flying around, saving face And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones And I still talk to you (When I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (You hear my stolen lullabies)

Rosalie would sing this to her murderer/fiancé at her funeral as he goes around being the ‘hero’ and ‘saving face’. She’s ‘screaming at the sky’ because he has stolen the one thing she really wanted from her ‘anywhere I want, just not home’. Even though she loved him ‘til [her] dying day’, she can never forgive and has no choice but to haunt him.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

exile - Edward in New Moon

I think I’ve seen this film before And I didn’t like the ending You’re not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town, now I’m in exile seein’ you out We always walked a very thin line You didn’t even hear me out (You didn’t even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) All this time I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind)

Edward leaves in New Moon because he believes he and his world are too dangerous for Bella, exiling himself indefinitely. They had ‘always walked a very thin line’ as he tried to be with her without harming her, and he literally ‘never learned to read [her] mind’. Now he’s left and can’t do what he wanted to do, i.e protect her (’what am I defending now?’).

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

august - Jacob

Salt air, and the rust on your door I never needed anything more Whispers of “Are you sure?” “Never have I ever before”

Back when we were still changin' for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope of it all Canceled plans just in case you'd call And say, "Meet me behind the mall" So much for summer love and saying "us" 'Cause you weren't mine to lose You weren't mine to lose, no

Your back beneath the sun Wishin' I could write my name on it Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinkin' I had you

Bella and Jacob start spending time together in the ‘salt air’ by La Push beach fixing beaten-up motorbikes (’rust’). Jacob knows Bella isn’t interested in him but lives in hope (’to live for the hope of it all’) and by the time the Cullens come back he’s convinced he could win Bella’s loyalties (’I remember thinkin’ I had you’). It doesn’t take place in summer, but it is a brief, intense fling that lifts Bella from her Edward-induced winter, and Bella calls Jacob her personal ‘sun’. In the end, though, Bella tells Jacob that there was never really a choice between him and Edward; it was always going to be Edward (’You weren’t mine to lose’). 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

invisible string - Alice & Jasper

And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire Chains around my demons Wool to brave the seasons One single thread of gold Tied me to you

Alice woke up as a vampire with no memory of her past - all she had was her psychic abilities, which were an ‘invisible string’ leading her directly to Jasper. On Jasper’s side, he was living a brutal life training newborn armies until Alice found him and ‘wrapped all of [his] past mistakes in barbed wire’, putting ‘chains around his demons’ and leading him to a better life. You could also interpret it as his journey to chaining his inner monster that wants to kill humans when he goes to live with the Cullens.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

epiphany - Carlisle

Something med school did not cover Someone's daughter, someone's mother Holds your hand through plastic now "Doc, I think she's crashing out" And some things you just can't speak about

Only twenty minutes to sleep But you dream of some epiphany Just one single glimpse of relief To make some sense of what you've seen

This song describes the experience of medical staff during the COVID-19 pandemic, and Carlisle was a doctor during the last major pandemic (Spanish Flu in 1918), which is where he turned Edward. A religious man, he searches for an ‘epiphany’ from God while he grapples with the decision to consign another person to a life of vampirism and tries to understand whether or not he still has a soul.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

mad woman - Rosalie

Do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn? Does she smile? Or does she mouth, "Fuck you forever"? And there's nothing like a mad woman What a shame she went mad No one likes a mad woman You made her like that And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out And you find something to wrap your noose around

They say “move on” but you know I won’t

I'm taking my time, taking my time 'Cause you took everything from me

Rosalie is filled with anger and bitterness over her murder. She’s cast in a bad light particularly because she’s an angry, ‘mad woman’ but she explains that her murderers ‘made her like that’ when they ‘took everything from [her]’, and in return she ‘[took her] time’ when killing them to make sure they knew she was coming.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

cardigan - Bella on Jacob

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone’s bed  You put me on and said I was your favorite  You drew stars around my scars But now I’m bleedin’

Bella was destroyed after Edward left, feeling that he’d taken most of her with him and was just discarded like an unwanted toy (’I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone’s bed’). Then she started hanging out with Jacob and his friendship (’I was your favorite’) started to heal - or at least disguise - the hole in her chest (’You drew stars around my scars’). But then he left, too, when the werewolf transformation happened, which left her ‘bleeding’. It turned out she wasn’t really healed, she’d just been papering over the gap with Jacob’s love.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

illicit affairs - Edward & Bella as tragic fated lovers

Tell yourself you can always stop What started in beautiful rooms  Ends in meetings in parking lots It’s born from just one single glance but it dies and it dies and it dies A million little times 

Leave no trace behind, like they don’t even exist

When Edward first becomes enamored with Bella and wants to get closer to her, he convinces himself he can always stop - but he can’t. The more time he spends with her, the more doomed he is. When Bella gets hurt because of him, first in Twilight and then in New Moon, he disappears in hopes of keeping her safe and hides all the presents he gave her (’leave no trace behind’). 

And you wanna scream Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby" Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby" Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else

A dwindling mercurial high A drug that only worked the first few hundred times

And you know damn well For you, I would ruin myself A million little times

This part is Bella’s response. When he left, he took away this entire paranormal world he’d introduced her to (‘You taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else’), leaving her to think she’s gone insane because not only has she lost the love of her life, all traces of an entire extra world have disappeared. She wants him to stop patronising her by saying she’ll move on like mortals do (’Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me’). Desperate to get some sense that he’s still there, she starts doing risky stunts like motorbike racing and jumping off a cliff (’A dwindling mercurial high’). Like she told him in the meadow scene in the first book, she is willing to die for him, and we see in New Moon that he feels the same way (‘you know damn well / For you I would ruin myself, a million little times’). The only way for them to stay apart would’ve been to never meet in the first place.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

seven - Rosalie on her childhood friend Vera

Please picture me in the trees I hit my peak at seven Feet in the swing over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things? Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Your braids like a pattern Love you to the Moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

Before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously Any time I wanted

Rosalie fondly recalls her human life and her best friend Vera, who had the normal life she never got. This ‘love lasts so long’ even though Vera is dead by now because Rosalie still remembers her, even if her human memories are fuzzy and she can’t necessarily ‘recall [her] face’. Also, Rosalie was always valued only for her beauty, but maybe she ‘hit [her] peak at seven’ because her beauty hadn’t yet started overshadowing her personhood and she was still able to ‘scream ferociously’ at that age instead of being the girl and young woman who had to learn ‘civility’ and be married off to a rich man.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

hoax - Bella in New Moon

My only one My smoking gun My eclipsed sun This has broken me down My twisted knife My sleepless night My winless fight This has frozen my ground Stood on the cliffside screaming, "Give me a reason" Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in Don't want no other shade of blue but you No other sadness in the world would do  My best laid plan Your sleight of hand My barren land I am ash from your fire  You know I left a part of me back in New York You knew the hero died so what's the movie for? You knew it still hurts underneath my scars From when they pulled me apart

Bella’s ‘eclipsed sun’ has disappeared and left her ‘broken’, ‘sleepless’ and believing she has no way to win him back. She literally goes and stands on a ‘cliffside’ before jumping off just to see a hallucination of his face - Edward, a mythical creature, is the ‘only hoax she believes in’. Even though he’s hurt her and broken her heart, she ‘don’t want no other shade of blue but you’. He thinks he’s saving her from harm by leaving, but the scar from James still bothers her, i.e. his leaving cannot protect her as the damage has been done (’You know it still hurts underneath my scars’) and now Edward has just added emotional scars that ‘pulled [her] apart’ and left a gaping hole in her chest.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

peace - Edward & Bella in Breaking Dawn

I never had the courage of my convictions As long as danger is near And it’s just around the corner darlin Coz it lives in me No, I could never give you peace

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Throughout the series, Edward has been afraid to get too close to Bella for fear of hurting her (’danger is near’, ‘it lives in me’). Now he finally has to accept that she’s not going anywhere and value her choice. Even after he’s no longer a threat to her directly, their life is full of challenges like the Volturi. It’s impossible to guarantee her safety, and she doesn’t want him to - she wants to be in his world as an equal. He comes to terms with the fact that it’s okay if he can ‘never give [her] peace’.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

Best lyrics on 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑘𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒.

the 1 - 

“And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow.” 

“We never painted by the numbers, baby, but we were making it count. You know the greatest loves of all time are over now.” 

cardigan - 

“And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite.” 

“I knew you tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy. I knew you. Leavin' like a father, running like water.”

“I knew I'd curse you for the longest time. Chasin' shadows in the grocery line. I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired, and you'd be standin' in my front porch light.”

the last great american dynasty - 

“The wedding was charming, if a little gauche. There's only so far new money goes. They picked out a home and called it "Holiday House". Their parties were tasteful, if a little loud. The doctor had told him to settle down. It must have been her fault his heart gave out.” 

“Filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names, and blew through the money on the boys and the ballet. And losing on card game bets with Dalí.”

“They say she was seen on occasion, pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea. And in a feud with her neighbor, she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green. Fifty years is a long time. Holiday House sat quietly on that beach. Free of women with madness, their men and bad habits. And then it was bought by me.”

“I had a marvelous time ruining everything.”

exile ft. Bon Iver - 

“I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending. You're not my homeland anymore, so what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out.”

“I can see you starin', honey. Like he's just your understudy. Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me. Second, third, and hundredth chances. Balancin' on breaking branches. Those eyes add insult to injury.”

“I’m not your problem anymore, so who am I offending now?”

“You didn't even hear me out. (You didn't even hear me out.) You never gave a warning sign. (I gave so many signs.)”

my tears ricochet - 

“We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room. And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too.”

“I didn't have it in myself to go with grace. And you're the hero flying around saving face. And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed. Look at how my tears ricochet.”

“We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean. Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring. You know I didn't want to have to haunt you, but what a ghostly scene. You wear the same jewels that I gave you, as you bury me.”

“And you can aim for my heart, go for blood. But you would still miss me in your bones. And I still talk to you... (When I'm screaming at the sky!) And when you can't sleep at night... (You hear my stolen lullabies!)“

“You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same. Cursing my name, wishing I stayed. You turned into your worst fears. And you're tossin’ out blame, drunk on this pain. Crossin’ out the good years.”

mirrorball - 

“I'm a mirrorball. I can change everything about me to fit in. You are not like the regulars, the masquerade revelers. Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten.”

“And they called off the circus, burned the disco down. When they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns, I'm still on that tightrope. I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me. And I'm still a believer, but I don't know why. I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try. I'm still on that trapeze. I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.”

seven -

“Please picture me in the trees. I hit my peak at seven feet in the swing over the creek. I was too scared to jump in. But I was high in the sky with Pennsylvania under me. Are there still beautiful things?”

“Sweet tea in the summer. Cross your heart, won't tell no other. And though I can’t recall your face, I still got love for you. Your braids like a pattern, love you to the Moon and to Saturn. Passed down like folk songs. The love lasts so long.”

“And I've been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted. Your dad is always mad and that must be why. And I think you should come live with me, and we can be pirates. Then you won't have to cry or hide in the closet.”

august - 

“But I can see us lost in the memory, August slipped away into a moment in time. 'Cause it was never mine. And I can see us twisted in bed-sheets, August sipped away like a bottle of wine. 'Cause you were never mine.”

“Back when we were still changin' for the better. Wanting was enough. For me it was enough. To live for the hope of it all. Canceled plans just in case you'd call, and say, ‘Meet me behind the mall.’ So much for summer love and saying ‘us’, ‘cause you weren't mine to lose.”

“Remember when I pulled up and said, ‘Get in the car’? And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call? Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all.”

this is me trying - 

“I've been having a hard time adjusting. I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting. I didn't know if you'd care if I came back. I have a lot of regrets about that. Pulled the car off the road to the lookout. Could've followed my fears all the way down.”

“They told me all of my cages were mental, so I got wasted like all my potential. And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad. I have a lot of regrets about that. I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere. Fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here. Pouring out my heart to a stranger, but I didn't pour the whiskey.”

“At least I’m trying.”

illicit affairs - 

“And that's the thing about illicit affairs, and clandestine meetings, and longing stares. It's born from just one single glance, but it dies and it dies and it dies! A million little times.”

“Take the words for what they are. A dwindling, mercurial high. A drug that only worked the first few hundred times.”

“And that's the thing about illicit affairs, and clandestine meetings, and stolen stares. They show their truth one single time, but they lie and they lie and they lie! A million little times.”

“And you wanna scream, ‘Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby". Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else. Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby". Look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else.’”

“‘And you know damn well, for you I would ruin myself a million little times.’”

invisible string - 

“Time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs. Were there clues I didn't see? And isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”

“Bad was the Blood of the song in the cab on your first trip to LA. You ate at my favorite spot for dinner. Bold was the waitress on our three-year trip, getting lunch down by the lakes. She said I looked like an American singer.”

“A string that pulled me out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar. Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons. One single thread of gold tied me to you.”

“Cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart. Now I send their babies presents. Gold was the color of the leaves when I showed you around Centennial Park. Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven.”

mad woman - 

“What did you think I'd say to that? Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? They strike to kill, and you know I will. What do you sing on your drive home? Do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn? Does she smile? Or does she mouth, ‘Fuck you forever’?”

“And there's nothing like a mad woman. What a shame she went mad. No one likes a mad woman. You made her like that. And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out, and you find something to wrap your noose around. And there's nothing like a mad woman.”

“Now I breathe flames each time I talk. My cannons all firin' at your yacht. They say ‘move on,’ but you know I won't. And women like hunting witches too. Doing your dirtiest work for you. It's obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together.”

“Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy. What about that? And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry.”

“I'm taking my time, ‘cause you took everything from me. Watching you climb over people like me. The master of spin has a couple side flings. Good wives always know. She should be mad, should be scathing like me, but no one likes a mad woman.”

epiphany - 

“Keep your helmet, keep your life, son. Just a flesh wound, here's your rifle. Crawling up the beaches now. ‘Sir, I think he's bleeding out!’ And some things you just can't speak about.”

“Something med school did not cover. Someone's daughter, someone's mother, holds your hand through plastic now. ‘Doc, I think she's crashing out!’ And some things you just can't speak about.”

“Only twenty minutes to sleep, but you dream of some epiphany. Just one single glimpse of relief, to make some sense of what you've seen.”

“With you I serve, with you I fall down. Watch you breathe in, watch you breathing out.”

betty - 

“You heard the rumors from Inez. You can't believe a word she says most times, but this time it was true. The worst thing that I ever did, was what I did to you.”

“But if I just showed up at your party, would you have me? Would you want me? Would you tell me to go fuck myself, or lead me to the garden? In the garden, would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing? I'm only seventeen, I don't know anything, but I know I miss you!”

“I was walking home on broken cobblestones, just thinking of you when she pulled up like a figment of my worst intentions. She said, ‘James, get in, let's drive.’ Those days turned into nights. Slept next to her, but I dreamt o’ you all summer long!”

“Yeah, I showed up at your party, will you have me? Will you love me? Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? Will it patch your broken wings? I'm only seventeen, I don't know anything, but I know I miss you! Standin’ in your cardigan! Kissin' in my car again! Stopped at a streetlight, you know I miss you!”

peace - 

“But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm if your cascade, ocean wave blues come. All these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret. The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me. Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?”

“Your integrity makes me seem small. You paint dreamscapes on the wall. I talk shit with my friends, it's like I'm wasting your honor. And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences. Sit with you in the trenches. Give you my wild, give you a child. Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother. Is it enough? But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the West, I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best. But the rain is always gonna come if you're standin' with me.”

hoax - 

“You know I left a part of me back in New York. You knew the hero died so what's the movie for? You knew it still hurts underneath my scars, from when they pulled me apart. You knew the password so I let you in the door. You knew you won so what's the point of keeping score? You knew it still hurts underneath my scars, from when they pulled me apart. But what you did was just as dark. Darling, this was just as hard as when they pulled me apart.”

“My only one. My kingdom come undone. My broken drum, you have beaten my heart. Don't want no other shade of blue but you. No other sadness in the world would do.”

[starlessmemes]

❈ ✼ ❈      TAYLOR  SWIFT’S  “FOLKLORE”  (2020)  STARTERS

the 1

‘  i’m doing good, i’m on some new shit. ’

‘  been saying ‘yes’ instead of ‘no’. ’

‘  i thought i saw you at the bus stop... i didn't though. ’

‘  i hit the ground running each night. ’

‘  you know the greatest films of all time were never made. ’

‘  i guess you never know. ’

‘  if you wanted me, you really should have showed. ’

‘  if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow. ’

‘  it’s alright now. ’

‘  we were something, don't you think so? ’

‘  if my wishes came true, it would have been you. ’

‘  in my defense, i have none. ’

‘  never leaving well enough alone. ’

‘  it would’ve been fun if you would’ve been the one. ’

‘  i have this dream you're doing cool shit, having adventures on your own. ’

‘  we were making it count. ’

‘  you know the greatest loves of all time are over now. ’

‘  it's another day waking up alone. ’

‘  i persist and resist the temptation to ask you. ’

‘  if one thing had been different, would everything be different today? ’

cardigan

‘  high heels on cobblestones. ’

‘  when you are young they assume you know nothing. ’

‘  but i knew you. ’

‘  i knew you. ’

‘  baby, kiss it better. ’

‘  when i felt like i was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said i was your favorite. ’ 

‘  a friend to all is a friend to none. ’

‘  chase two girls, lose the one. ’

‘  playing hide-and-seek and giving me your weekends. ’

‘  once in twenty lifetimes. ’

‘  to kiss in cars and downtown bars was all we needed. ’

‘  you drew stars around my scars. ’

‘  now i’m bleeding. ’

‘  marked me like a bloodstain. ’

‘  i knew you tried to change the ending. ’

‘  i knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss. ’

‘  i knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs. ’ 

‘  i knew everything when i was young. ’

‘  i knew I'd curse you for the longest time. ’

‘  chasing shadows in the grocery lines. ’

‘  i knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired. ’

‘  i knew you’d come back to me. ’

‘  you put me on and said I was your favorite. ’

the last great american dynasty

‘  the wedding was charming, if a little gauche. ’

‘  there’s only so far new money goes. ’

‘  the party was tasteful, if a little loud. ’

‘  it must have been her fault his heart gave out. ’

‘  there goes the last great american dynasty. ’

‘  who knows, if she never showed up what could have been? ’

‘  there foes the maddest woman this town has ever seen. ’

‘  she had a marvelous time ruining everything. ’

‘  filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names. ’

‘  blew through the money on the boys and the ballet. ’

‘  there goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen. ’

‘  they say she was seen on occasion pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea. ’

‘  in a feud with her neighbor, she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green. ’

‘  fifty years is a long time. ’

‘  free of women with madness, their men and bad habits. ’

‘  who knows, if i never showed up what could have been? ’

‘  i had a marvelous time ruining everything. ’

‘  i had a marvelous time... ’

exile

‘   I can see you standing, honey, with his arms around your body. ’

‘  laughing, but the joke’s not funny at all. ’

‘  it took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it. ’

‘  i think i’ve seen this film before, and i didn’t like the ending. ’

‘  you’re not my homeland anymore. ’

‘  what am i defending? ’

‘  you were my town, now i’m in exile. ’

‘  i can see you staring, honey. ’

‘  like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me. ’

‘  those eyes add insult to injury. ’

‘  i'm not your problem anymore. ’

‘  so who am I offending now? ’

‘  you were my crown, now I'm in exile. ’

‘  i’m leaving out the side door. ’

‘  there is no amount of crying i can do for you. ’  

‘  you didn’t even hear me out. ’

‘  i never learned to read your mind. ’

‘  i couldn’t turn things around. ’

‘  you didn’t even see the signs. ’

‘  you never gave a warning sign. ’

my tears ricochet

‘  we gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room. ’

‘  if i’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes too. ’

‘  even on my worst day, did I deserve all the hell you gave me? ’

‘ cause i loved you. ’

‘  i swear i loved you ‘til my dying day. ’

‘  we gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room. ’  

‘  if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? ’

‘  look at how my tears ricochet. ’

‘  you know i didn't want to have to haunt you...  but what a ghostly scene. ’

‘  when i'd fight, you used to tell me i was brave. ’

‘  cursing my name, wishing i stayed. ’

‘  i can go anywhere i want, just not home. ’

‘  you can aim for my heart, go for blood. ’

‘  you would still miss me in your bones. ’

‘  i still talk to you when i'm screaming at the sky. ’

‘  when you can't sleep at night, you hear my stolen lullabies. ’

‘  you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same.’

‘  you turned into your worst fears. ’

‘  you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain. ’

mirrorball

‘  i want you to know. ’

‘  i’ll show you every version of yourself tonight. ’

‘  i’ll get you out on the floor. ’

‘  when i break, it’s in a million pieces. ’

‘  when no one is around, my dear, you'll find me on my tallest tiptoes, spinning in my highest heels, love, shining just for you. ’

‘  i know they said the end was near. ’

‘  i can change everything about me to fit in. ’

‘  you are not like the regulars. ’

‘  the masquerade revelers, drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten. ’

‘  they called off the circus, burned the disco down. ’

‘  i’m still on that tightrope. ’

‘  i’m still trying everything to get you laughing at me. ’

‘  i’m still a believer, but i don’t know why. ’

‘  i’ve never been natural, all i do is try. ’

‘  i’m still trying everything to keep you looking at me. ’

‘  i’m a mirrorball. ’

seven

‘  please picture me in the trees.  i hit my peak at seven. ’

‘  i was high in the sky. ’

‘  are there still beautiful things? ’

‘  though I can’t recall your face, i still got love for you. ’  

‘  love you to the moon and to saturn. ’

‘  i've been meaning to tell you, i think your house is haunted. ’

‘  i think you should come live with me. ’

‘  then you won’t have to cry. ’

‘  just like a folk song, our love will be passed on. ’

‘  i used to scream ferociously any time i wanted. ’

‘  cross my heart, won’t tell no other. ’

‘  our love lasts so long. ’

august

‘  i never needed anything more. ’

‘  are you sure? ’

‘  never have i ever before. ’

‘  i can see us lost in the memory. ’

‘  cause it was never mine. ’

‘  i can see us twisted in bedsheets. ’

‘  cause you were never mine. ’

‘  will you call when you're back at school? ’

‘  i remember thinking i had you. ’

‘  august slipped away into a moment in time. ’   

‘  back when we were still changin' for the better, wanting was enough. ’

‘  for me, it was enough to live for the hope of it all. ’

‘  canceled plans just in case you'd call. ’

‘  so much for summer love and saying "us"

‘  cause you weren’t mine to lose. ’

‘  august sipped away like a bottle of wine. ’

this is me trying

‘  cross my heart, won’t tell no other. ’

‘  i didn't know if you'd care if i came back. ’

‘  i have a lot of regrets about that. ’

‘  could've followed my fears all the way down. ’

‘  maybe i don’t quite know what to say. ’

‘  i’m here in your doorway. ’

‘  i just wanted you to know that this is me trying. ’

‘  they told me all of my cages were mental. ’

‘  i got wasted like all my potential. ’

‘  my words shoot to kill when I'm mad. ’

‘  i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere. ’

‘  i ended up here, pouring out my heart to a stranger. ’

‘  it’s hard to be at a party when i feel like an open wound. ’

‘  it’s hard to be anywhere these days. ’

‘  all i want is you. ’

‘  at least i’m trying. ’

illicit affairs

‘  make sure nobody sees you leave. ’

‘  keep your eyes down. ’

‘  take the road less traveled by. ’

‘  tell yourself you can always stop. ’

‘  what started in beautiful rooms ends with meetings in parking lots. ’

‘  that’s the thing about illicit affairs, clandestine meetings and longing stares. ’

‘  it’s born from just one single glance. ’

‘  it dies and it dies and it dies a million little times. ’

‘  leave the perfume on the shelf. ’

‘  so you leave no trace behind, like you don’t even exist. ’

‘  take the words for what they are  ---  a dwindling, mercurial high. ’

‘ they show their truth one single time, but they lie and they lie and they lie a billion little times. ’

‘  don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby". ’

‘  look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. ’

‘  you showed me colors you know i can't see with anyone else. ’

‘  look at this idiotic fool that you made me. ’  

‘  you taught me a secret language i can't speak with anyone else. ’

‘  you know damn well. ’

‘  for you, i would ruin myself a million little times. ’

invisible string

‘  i used to think i would meet somebody there. ’

‘  time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs. ’

‘  were there clues i didn’t see? ’

‘  isn’t it just so pretty to think: all along, there was some invisible string tying you to me? ’

‘  you ate at my favorite spot for dinner. ’

‘  she said i looked like an american singer. ’

‘  time, mystical time, cutting me open, then healing me fine. ’

‘  something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. ’

‘  one single thread of gold tied me to you. ’

‘  cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart. ’

‘  now i send their babies presents. ’

‘  hell was the journey but it brought me heaven. ’

‘  time, wondrous time, gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies. ’

‘  it’s cool, baby, with me. ’

‘  all along, there was some invisible string tying you to me. ’

mad woman

‘  what did you think i’d say to that? ’

‘  does a scorpion sting when fighting back? ’

‘  you know i will. ’

‘  what do you sing on your drive home? ’

‘  does she smile? or does she mouth, "fuck you forever"? ’

‘  every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy. ’

‘  when you say I seem angry, I get more angry. ’

‘  what a shame she went mad. ’

‘  no one likes a mad woman. ’

‘  you made her like that. ’

‘  you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out. ’

‘  and you find something to wrap your noose around. ’

‘  there’s nothing like a mad woman. ’

‘  i breathe flames each time i talk. ’  

‘  they say "move on," but you know i won't. ’

‘  women like hunting witches too. ’

‘  it's obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together. ’

‘  there’s nothing like a mad woman. ’

‘  i’m taking my time. ’

‘  you took everything from me. ’

‘  good wives always know. ’ 

‘  she should be mad, should be scathing like me. ’

epiphany

‘  keep your helmet, keep your life, son. ’

‘  just a flesh wound, here’s your rifle. ’

‘  sir, i think he’s bleeding out! ’

‘  some things you just can't speak about. ’

‘  with you I serve, with you I fall down. ’

‘  watch you breathe in, watch you breathing out. ’

‘  someone's daughter, someone's mother. ’

‘  doc, i think she’s crashing out! ’

‘  you dream of some epiphany. ’

‘  just one single glimpse of relief to make some sense of what you've seen. ’

‘  i fall down. ’

betty

‘  i won’t make assumptions...  but i think it’s cause of me. ’

‘  when i passed your house, it was like i couldn’t breathe. ’

‘  you can’t believe a word she says. ’

‘  this time it was true. ’

‘  the worst thing i ever did was what i did to you. ’

‘  would you have me? would you want me? ’

‘  would you tell me to go fuck myself? ’

‘  i don’t know anything...  but i know i miss you. ’

‘  i know where it all went wrong. ’

‘  i hate the crowds, you know that. ’

‘  i saw you dance with him. ’

‘  i was walking home on broken cobblestones, just thinking of you. ’

‘  those days turned into nights. ’

‘  i dreamt of you all summer long. ’

‘  i’m here on your doorstep. ’

‘  right now is the last time i can dream about what happens when you see my face again. ’

‘  the only thing i wanna do is make it up to you. ’

‘  will you have me?  will you love me? ’

‘  if you kiss me, will it be just like i dreamed it? ’

‘  will it patch your broken wings? ’

‘  you know i miss you. ’

peace

‘  our coming-of-age has come and gone. ’

‘  i never had the courage of my convictions. ’

‘  it’s just around the corner, darling. ’

‘  no, i could never give you peace. ’

‘  i'm a fire and i'll keep your brittle heart warm. ’ 

‘  all these people think love’s for show. ’

‘  i would die for you in secret. ’

‘  the devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me. ’

‘  would it be enough if i could never give you peace? ’

‘  your integrity makes me seem small. ’

‘  it's like I'm wasting your honor. ’

‘  i’d give you my wild, give you a child. ’

‘  i’d give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. ’

‘  there’s robbers to the east, clowns to the west. ’

‘  i’d give you my sunshine, give you my best. ’

‘  the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me. ’

‘  is it enough? ’

hoax

‘  this had broken me down. ’

‘  this has frozen my ground. ’

‘  give me a reason! ’

‘  your faithless love’s the only hoax i believe in. ’

‘  don’t want no other shade of blue but you. ’

‘  no other sadness in the world would do. ’

‘  i am ash from your fire. ’

‘  you know i left a part of me back in ______ ’

‘  you know it still hurts underneath my scars. ’

‘  you knew the password so i let you in the door. ’

‘  you knew you won, so what’s the point of keeping score? ’

‘  from when they pulled me apart. ’

‘  but what you did was just as dark. ’

‘  darling, this was just as hard. ’ 

‘  you have beaten my heart.  ’

[westernchords]

2020: a replay & reflection

so... here we are at the near end of a very long, unsettling & strange year. and at this particular moment in time, spotify has released its 2020 wrapped feature, an annual highlight for gay people everywhere (self VERY included). since the world is very large & this is a personal blog with a limited scope, i'll talk about what i know best: the view from my corner of the musical world.

i only had two songs in common with any previous year -- i wish i missed my ex by mahalia & sugar by brockhampton (... i know, the heartache is loud already,)

4 unique rain asmr audios made it into my top 15 (they help me sleep lolol)

show tunes was my #4 most listened to genre and yet not a single one made it into my top 100. (i'm pretty sure it was all of my late night waitress sing alongs)

i discovered 1,012 new artists and 162 new genres

all very fun and interesting things! however, in looking at this year, there are two things to discuss that are most important: the amount of time i spent listening to music (111,989 minutes) and my top song, fake mona lisa. let's discuss both.

on time: in short, music means a lot to me. in long, i mean that music has been central to my life for as long as i can remember. i think of my church choir and my mother singing eartha kitt and corrine bailey rae in the kitchen, my father's surprise talents at piano when he would play in chapel, and how i like to make up little ditties to sing for my dog or while i cook or to solely entertain myself. if one was to take a look at my journals, each entry is annotated with the song i was listening to or suited my mood at the time i was writing. at any moment, i am capable of revisiting the emotional landscape of old memories all set to the very soundtrack that holds that particular past closest.

i still remember plucking violin strings at 5, how i used to stack music books so i could sit up straight on my piano bench because i was too short at 7, picking up woodwinds in highschool and letting my best friend act as conductor, and now, singing endlessly- day in and day out, because it makes me feel like i am traveling home. i think of creole folk songs that connect me to my family, my diaspora. i remember the favorite songs and artists of people i don't know anymore, but still. it stays with me. my friend cj says i have a great emotional sensitivity to music, but more so, music simply connects to every cornerstone of who i am. the creation of it, the listening, the love of it. the constancy.

music is integral to my daily routine and life. since i was 13, maybe younger, i have always believed that the first song i hear in a day sets the tone so i always try to play something i love and makes me feel joyful to start off on the right foot. i will do this my entire life. every day is permeated by sound and the data shows it. 111,989 minutes is almost 3 months straight. this doesn't even count soundcloud listens or youtube tracks or music i play on my own. this felt fitting. music, this year in particular, has been a salve to both new and old hurt. and maybe i am picking at my scabs, but 2020 has amplified so much anger and shame and fear and despite that, there is so much joy in art. music is a balm for the world, it is poetry in its own right.

on fake mona lisa: so .. i am kind of obsessed with this song. fifteen hours worth of listening, i text my friends i'll join the video call soon - i just need one more replay, i got high and played this song while lying in the middle of a meadow and experienced more emotions than i had had in a very long time, my friends lovingly tease me about it so it's sort of like a character trait now, kind of obsessed. my turning to this song was the sort of romance that i didn't anticipate, but fell very hard into and, if you know me, you know that's my favorite kind. let's get into why: when dedicated side b came out, i was heartbroken. there's really no other way to put it. i was alone, back in my childhood bedroom, and harboring a reopened wound from past relationships that maybe had never closed in the first place. i was in this strange, melancholic knee-deep-in-emotions place & if you're an avid CRJ fan, you recognize that's a place she knows and sings about well.

as a song, fake mona lisa tends to be one of carly's more lyrically opaque tracks. which is fine, i'm a storyteller at heart, i'll craft my own narrative. (and honestly, there wasn't much legwork here.) without doing a full blown analysis, here are pieces that i find important to note about the song lyrically and resonate most with me -- big or small.

(transcription at bottom)

what i'm basically saying is that this song is about risk and young love and sex. its about secrets, cheap thrills, fast & easy desires, and the fantastical euphoria of a dead-end-but-still-fun “we're young so what's the matter,“ relationship. (very reminiscent of LA hallucinations, imo) and to me, someone who has been in and out of this same subset of emotional affairs, fake mona lisa stuck with me. vegas is a city of high risk, high reward- where else to chase that superficial, unattainable someone? more so, the song gives you the understanding that the relationship doesn't last, but that was not what carly ever truly wanted out of it. fake mona lisa is, at its core, about over indulgence in pleasure as a stand in for actual love + commitment, something i am oft to do myself & only did more of after dedicated side b dropped. i latched onto the slow and simmering exposition into glittery pre-chorus, starlit imagery, shiny-faraway vocals, and frankly, there was no competition for my song of the year. the song is a dream. i love it and i know what that says about me, but i stand by it. 

dedicated side b, especially fake mona lisa, carried me through the healing process of heartbreaks that crystallized into many other things- indulgence, desire, risk, short lived romances, secrets, joy, kisses i should've kept to myself, spontaneous dance breaks, tears, etc., it is an album about love, recovery, and returning to the self. fake mona lisa is just my favorite stop on a long train ride to an okay-ness with aspects of romance (both with the self and others) that i am still figuring out the messy, rose-tinted, contours of.

and sonically? i just adore the key of d minor.

as a last touch point, fake mona lisa was only the tip of the iceberg of songs  i obsessed over about not-exactly-ideal romances. again and again and again, heartbreak anthems appeared in my top 100, a deviation from my typical warmth towards romantic sentiments that appeared in past years. instead, there is a sense of love-at-a-distance, a painting yourself as the object of desire, a severed attachment, a not wanting to commit at all (see let's be friends, heartbeat, want you in my room, all by crj ... all appearing on the list.) however, much of what appeared celebrated love and having tremendous, special, struck by cupid, feelings. it's all there. what i'm saying is that carly rae jepsen writes music for lovestruck people- both lucky and not so much, hopeless or hopeful -- you name it. she writes about how you can fall in love with almost anyone, soundtracks for the highs of the first throes of intimacy, the first (and last) kiss, the shared moments between two people when they are each other's whole world, and the palpable distance of heartache, separation, and the landscape between. 

she writes as though she is both eros and psyche, armed with arrows of cascading melodies, tipped with a salve for suppressing+healing+amplifying heartbreak, and lyrics so intimate and dreamy, you really can't help but believe in love with the way she speaks of it. love is a venture from shame, a fantasy that is more real than anything else, tender and kind, pleasurable, and escapable into. the world is better in it, the world is better because of it. in carly rae jepsen's discography, love is the defining pillar of experience. a northern star and guiding principle. it is the only thing, no matter what form. & frankly? i cant help but agree.

as a final note, in hanif wills-abdurraqib's emotion review for MTV, carly rae jepsen's public displays of affection, he says this:

thats all for now. bye 2020.

- august

///

transcription of my notes:

verse 1:

city/star light imagery

i am known for wearing a star stamp on my cheek

infatuation & attraction

paints a photo of a starlet and her lover, a fair weather affair

pre-chorus:

always waiting fro a chance the object of desire

a high from love, addictive pleasures

chorus:

sex & art & risk taking (art synonymous with beauty. + seduction)

she knows she cant handle this in a real way, but wants it

desire vs/& (in conjunction with) pain

verse 2:

an idealistic worldview, hoping for the best, always somewhere else not present. 

dreamy lyrics + dreamy state of mind, cloudy even.

specifically the words fake mona lisa:

contrast, beautiful yet fully acknowledged to be unreal/superficial

a stand in for “real art“ aka “real love“

[cherrykadeu]

The tarot tent

Lughnasadh Festival; Tarot Tent. You enter the tarot tent. The walls are a deep purple and the floor is covered with an intricately patterned dark rug. Everything is lit by candlelight and the woman who will read your fortune appears ageless. She could be nine hundred or she could be twenty, you would believe either statement. 

It was still daylight when Nari decided to enter that tent, pulling some velvet curtains apart so that she could transport herself from the loud noise of the rest of the event to the quiet interior of the tent. The young gumiho was able to notice her senses sharpening the moment she entered the tent, she could smell the slight scent of lavender, sage and other scent that she had not yet been able to identify in the air. Her head was turned upwards, while her dark gaze was observing the deep purple fabric decorating every wall, there were certain sections of it that shone, it was as if she were watching a starry sky.

Only when she stumbled over the intricate dark rug that covered the entire floor of that space did her gaze finally land on the woman in front of her, she felt her heart accelerate more from the shame of being so clumsy and having almost fallen, than from fear of the fall itself. Her ankle was finally recovered, it would be nice if she didn't get injured again, unfortunately most days she still thought her fox shape was easier to control than her more human one.

“Sorry...” the words came out too softly, as for fear of disturbing that atmosphere even more, the woman did not give any answer or if she gave one Nari was too busy straightening the edge of the carpet that had folded after she had stumbled on it to notice any kind of response coming from the other woman.

Her nose wrinkled slightly as she approached that small round table, adorned by a towel the same shade as the walls and with some golden details, the only things resting on the surface were a deck of tarot cards, a small bowl that burned the herbs that Nari had smelled when she first entered and the woman's hands clasped together, every finger adorned with a different ring. The gumiho sat on the opposite side calmly, the woman kept looking at her and Nari did the same. She had long hair up to her waist, one light blue eye and the other a dark brown, but she didn't look much older than Nari and as much as she tried to discover something about that woman's nature, the atmosphere was too thick and confusing for her to be able to focus on just one thing - maybe this was all set up like this to confuse someone like her.

The two silver coins that were hidden in Nari's fist were placed on top of the table and then removed by the woman who instantly started shuffling that deck of tarot cards. Then, all those cards were scattered on that surface, in the shape of a half moon, all facing down and at the disposal of Nari. "Choose ten" said the other woman in a hoarse voice, Nari thought she shouldn't think too much about her decision, besides all the cards looked the same and so there was no danger of preferring one over the other, just for because of its appearance. She pulled three from the beginning, five from the middle and two from the end towards her.

The smile reached the woman's eyes as she put away all the remaining cards, then sorting the chosen ones and proceeding to turn them over one at a time. The suspense kept Cherry on the edge of her seat while she waited for the other woman to explain the true meanings of those cards to her, she was sure if she had her tail now she would be wagging with enthusiasm.

"Temperance, Queen of Pentacles, Seven of Swords" as those names were being said, the woman pointed to each of the cards she was referring to, Nari's gaze following her index finger with her gaze. The first looked like an angel, the second kind of looked like a woman, the appearance of the third card did not please Cherry and even without her knowing its meaning a look of disdain had already appeared on her face. “You are a very strong woman, it gives you the will to move forward and to obtain whatever you want, both personally and emotionally, however this has also been the source of many problems in your past. But even if you’re questioning so many things in your life, you have to remember that what really matters is your desire for a better life, not the wounds from your past. Remember that and you will succeed, that attitude will give you many opportunities” this managed to make a smile appear on Nari’s lips, who seemed satisfied with these first words. She nodded several times in the form of a silent request for the woman to continue.

"Knight of Cups, Ace of Pentacles, Four of Wands, Ten of Pentacles" the same routine was done, but this time the gumiho was more concerned with hearing the explanation than with judging the appearance of the cards. “This draw shows a relationship coming your way in a few weeks” these words caused a confused expression to cross Nari's face and she finally looked at the woman in front of her as if asking if she was sure. "This doesn’t seem right" she murmured, but the other woman seemed to choose to ignore her, although by the way she smiled Nari knew that she had heard her and maybe even was having fun with her reactions. “Nothing to worry about, my dear, he is an attentive, reliable and reassuring man you know well, who is represented by those two cards in front of you: the Knight of Cups and Ace of Pentacles” Nari almost chuckled at that, she knew a lot of men and none of them fitted that description. “You are prepared for this situation and will able to seize this opportunity during the month of August. However, you will have to free yourself from some difficult memories, including a wound that is represented by the Four of Wands. Let go of your past, so you can enjoy the present and so the future can be even brighter.” This left the young gumiho feeling confused, she wasn’t expecting a relationship at all and she had no idea what that wound from the past could possibly be. She positioned her elbow on the table, before resting her chin on the palm of her hand, perhaps this had been a waste of money. "You seem to be going through a crucial period in your life during which you could build a beautiful love story alongside a loving individual." The gumiho rolled her eyes, right, that will definitely happen. “You are an intelligent, intuitive, and slightly impulsive person. When it comes to trusting a man, you think long and hard about it. And yet, the cards you have drawn evoke a relationship based on trust and sharing. This man could play a role in your life that keeps getting more important, and together you could create a constructive love story. This draw highlights an outstretched hand. The hand is his, and should you choose to take it, he could lead you to a warm and tender destiny. Remember that it is always your choice in the end”she didn’t know if she should feel bored or sad for not believing any of these words, part of her wished that all of this was true, that all of this was really possible. “In the long term, the Ace of Pentacles reminds you of the material nature of existence. Your well-being doesn’t necessarily depend on the excessive accumulation of wealth, but nevertheless requires financial stability. To feel serene, learn to define your goals.” Nari felt herself becoming distracted again, the way she leaned back against the chair and the way she looked around were all signs of her loss of interest, she didn't even bother looking back at the top of the table while the woman continued to speak.

“From a professional point of view, the Seven of Swords indicates deception. The world of work can sometimes be rough, especially when people’s interests collide. To maintain your position, you will need to remain cautious and not trust appearances. There are some things that cannot be seen at the moment, and it is quite possible people are acting behind your back. The important thing will be to be tactful enough to create safe passage through these power games.” The gumiho scoffed, crossing her arms, this much was true, however she came here expecting to hear nice, encouraging things, every girl she had talked at The Red Dragon always told her how wonderful this experience was, how good it felt to have your destiny being unraveled, to have all your questions answered, however Nari was feeling annoyed by it all. She quickly got up, cutting off the woman as she was about to speak again. “Thank you so much” the gumiho responded quickly, giving the woman a warm smile, she did not want to be impolite, but she was getting too restless to just stay put, the woman only nodded back at her as if understanding her reaction, as if she wasn’t the first person to have left so suddenly.

“What a load of rubbish” she murmured to herself as she stood at the entrance of the tent once again, the slight breeze helping her cool down as she looked around to see what she should do next, she wasn’t quite ready to head home yet. “I should go eat something”

[matildastuartsold]

hshq task twelve: a timeline

it reads as a semi lil self para’s and part news report...bc i didn’t wanna self para as a 3 year old. tw: abortion, implied drug used, mentions of underage, mentions of age differences, image issues, pregnancy, mentions of possible grooming, body image issues, possible signs of bulimia, 

december 19th, 1997

for the third time in the last four, almost five years, the town crier of edinburgh stood just inside the gates of holyrood announcing the birth of a third princess, named matilda. 

june 18th, 2001

at three years old, princess matilda made her first public appearance with her family at the royal highland show. the littlest princess made her appearance well known running off excitedly with yells of “maude-y!” following her, showing off her cartwheeling skills, and waving at everyone who looked especially those with a camera. 

november 30th, 2005 

she doesn’t know a life without the media and having to parade around them. like today, skipping through st. andrew’s day activities some of her earliest memories surrounded people with cameras desperately clicking and yelling the names of her mum and dad, her sisters and her. matilda liked it though, she could simply become the only name they yelled with a simple smile or a wave. she liked it, but she was tired of being called matilda. she didn’t want to be called matilda, she wanted to be called tilly, like her friends all called her. it’s why she turned around with a frown at the reporter who yelled matilda. “i’m not matilda! my name is tilly!” crossing her arms across her chest, she stuck her tongue out annoyed at the her full name. even with her mother and father’s scold of “matilda!” and her tilly let her father scoop her up in his arms making a face at the paparazzi as she was carried away. 

january 4th, 2010

“but i don’t want to go to gordonstoun!” not that even mattered, ever since her mother became a queen last year it was never even worth putting in her own thoughts, not that it ever had been. now though it was going against the queen, not just her mum.  tilly just didn’t want to go to gordonstoun with her sisters. it seemed so boring. still the press release was already out, trunks already in her room ready to be back. “if i have to go someone will regret it!” 

september 19th, 2011

crushes were nice, all the boys in her year, the year above her, some even in margot’s year paying her attention, she’d be dumb if she didn’t enjoy it. so what if she kept sneaking out with them to smoke cigarettes and drink beers on the roof. she likes the attention from it. what was the school going to do? make her do laps? please, she wouldn’t do it and they couldn’t make her. so she found herself giggling at whatever connaugh mcdaniels was saying and took the sip of beer he was offering, because all eyes were on her in a way that they hadn’t been before.

april 31st, 2013

“i’m the fucking may queen!” throwing her head back in laughter, tilly twirled around the flower crown a top her head never moving. sneaking out to go to beltane, was the smartest decision she’d made in a while. falling back against her favorite duke to be she’d been going almost all the way with frequently, she took the flask from her best friend, georgia, taking a far too long sip of the vodka. she was happily drunk, feeling the brisk spring air on the hill hit her. she didn’t care about the obvious presence from people taking pictures of them. it didn’t matter she was drunk and determined for her goal of the night, losing the v card. “richard,” she smirked up at him. “we should head back to the tent, your may queen demands it.” letting out a giggle she moved back going for another twirl as she reached for his hand.

july 27th, 2014

she still doesn’t understand what the big deal is, her mother pacing back and forth going on and on about propriety. catherine looking like a mirror of her mother’s upset. her father’s disappointment. “i’m sixteen, just because i’m under this bloody crown doesn’t mean i’m not gonna go out and have fun!” her eyes glanced at the various magazine and newspaper headlines in front of her. she doesn’t see the issue with it, minus the invasion of privacy, in the picture she’s just pressed against the wall making out with one of her guy friends. she’s hearing the words come from everyone’s mouths but she’s not listening. just blankly sitting there. 

february 3rd, 2015

“you’re what?! tilly you can’t sleep with your math tutor!” tilly turned at the exclamation from her friend, a look of confusion on her face. “why not? i need to pass and he apparently wants to fuck a princess it’s a win win! besides he’s not that old i doubt he’s even thirty.” besides it was better than any of the guys in their class asking to lose it with her. at least it would be good and she’d pass. she didn’t see an issue. plus it felt good to be wanted, to have someone want her and not want her to be like her sisters. who cared if he was a married man approaching his 30s? he wanted her. 

september 10th, 2015

she woke up on her bathroom floor in just the lingerie she wore under her dress before going out. not that she cared after all, she’d probs look skinnier from throwing up all the drinks from the night before. she brushed her teeth, throwing her hair into a ponytail. Wiping off the remnants of her make up from the night before she looked on at the stranger in her bed. “get out before a walk of shame is too embarrassing, for your own well being.” Watching the man leave she shook her head curling into bed ignoring her phone continue to blow up again and again, no doubt people seeing pictures of the night before. 

may 4th, 2016

“fuck! jesus fucking christ i look awful!” seeing the press release photo on the cover of the magazine sitting in front of her on the table, she picked it up and tossed it straight towards the trash can. looking back at her partner for her textile project, she gave her a look. another example of her being the worst of the family.  “tell me why you thought bringing a tabloid where i look awful in would really make a good study environment?” shaking her head, she picked up her phone seeing who could come over tonight, she might be able to convince richard to get on a flight. she’d slept with arthur a few times maybe him? there were more than a few posh boys at oxford she’d met on her visits. shaking her head she motioned at the fabric she brought. “they’re all recycled, should work for what we need.” 

january 3rd, 2017

"matilda herietta annabelle stuart how could you be so wildly irresponsible?!” her mother is screaming, her father looks disappointed. she knows she fucked up because it’s just the two of them. having her parents attention on just her, she could probably count the times that’s happened on just one hand alone. she doesn’t regret flashing the paparazzi though, the magazines printed with trainwreck tilly subtle covering where she’d lifted her top, but it was still obvious she had. “i was drunk, it was hogamany, i must have been black out by that point.” she knew it didn’t matter, watching her mother go into another rant. still, it felt nice for once to be the only person that mattered to her parents. 

 october 31st, 2017

she was didn’t know where she was really not that it mattered. she went up to oxford to party with the posh guys and all her. you could barely call the white lingerie she wore an angel costume, something she thought would an irony. she probably mixed too many liquors and too many drugs together. still she reaches for the hand of the guy she’s leaning on pulls him to a door, hoping one will be a bathroom or a bedroom. with her luck she’ll see what happened tonight on twitter in the morning. 

august 7th, 2018

they told her to be on her best behavior, that she’s technically working edinburgh fringe festival. still she thinks she’s doing a charitable deed. she’s buying these poor struggling actors alcohol and then getting into drinking contests with them. it’s all rather sensible if you ask her. she’s doing a charity besides it feels good being the center of attention. she’s sitting on the actual bar, a rather attractive actor from some play or some shit she watched today has his hand on her thigh. why would she do anything else? 

september 7th, 2019

she knew that the braemar gathering was a big deal, she’d been to it almost every year of her life. still it didn’t mean she wasn’t bored as hell after a day of it, it’s why she’d pulled richard aside at the noble dinner at balmoral later that evening. her own personal playground as a kid, she knew exactly which cupboard to push him in. it would have been so much nicer if her mother’s fucking cheif of staff hadn’t opened the door when she was on her knees. the yelling wasn’t even bad, it was the punishment. her life being packed into suitcases around her as she sat on her bed back in edinburgh 24 hours later. no what hurt the most was her mother’s last words to her before she got on the plane to dubai, “i wonder if you’ll ever stop disappointing me.”

december 23rd, 2019

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me?! happy birthday, happy christmas, we’re marrying you off to the crown prince of venezuela! how could you do this to me mum? catherine just said-” she doesn’t think she’s ever been more furious in her life. opening the bottle of vodka and lining up the cocaine she said on her. “you know what i don’t care if i was drunkenly with him once, mother it doesn’t mean i want to fucking marry him! you’re ruining my life! forgive me, your majesty. i won’t forget from now on i’m your subject, not your daughter. have a happy christmas, goodbye.” she threw the phone, then threw a shot back looking at the lines she set up. “lola!” she screamed walking towards her suitcase. “i want to look sluttier than a prostitute whose rent is due tomorrow, a christmas present to my mother given my engagement. i don’t want to remember tonight.” 

janurary 21st, 2020

she knew for days, something was wrong. she wasn’t how she always was, then she got sick, consistently, three mornings in a row. sitting staring at the line of positive pregnancy tests that were in her bathroom sink she looked at cora rubbing her back comfortingly. “i need to call or text or- there are only two people i don’t make wear a condom and i haven’t slept with richard since september.” grabbing her phone she  sent a quick ‘come over now’ text. and threw her phone towards the bed. “burn the tests tonight, get them out of her, taking them to the fucking mcdonalds to throw them away if you have to. they aren’t gonna be anywhere near me though, it can not ruin everything. my mother already hates my existance, she’d send me to the fucking gallows if i ruined her one chance at getting rid of me. not a word of this to her spy either or catherine.” 

janurary 24th, 2020

it was cold and she was crying. laying on the chair in the doctor’s office, she held onto cora’s hand like it was her only way of living and she felt so much relief knowing that if she needed it neil would carry her out of the building. “i know, i’m not the model catholic or really any religion, but i still feel wrong, i feel guilty. i don’t know what else to do though.” so she cried, letting her communications advisor and his wife comfort her like they were her parents. sometimes they feel more like parents than her own. when the doctor comes in, tells her its going to pinch and might be uncomfortable, she lets cora distract her with stories of her and neil when they started dating. while she doen’t need him to carry her out, she leans on them both the whole way to car, letting herself come to terms that she wasn’t pregnant anymore. 

march 9th, 2020

“félix, i’m going to get fucking wasted at the beach,” she wasn’t sure when she got fucking domestic. she lives with her fiancé, they share a bed, fucking wedding magazines are sent to her. it feels like she’s in a snow globe. one where she barely recognizes who she is. she still looks in the mirror and remembers that if things had been different her stomach would probably have a bump now, not be the flat as it is. so instead, she’s taken to more day drinking, trying not to think about the thing only 6 people in the world know about and why it makes her feel so empty.

[hayesit]

matt’s 2019 year in review

here it is! and it’s late because i had other/better things to do (and procrastinating), was recovering from hangovers (also procrastinating), and recovering from being sick (procrastinating).

i’ve been doing these year in review posts since 2016, so here is my fourth installment. every year i look back through my google calendar, my camera roll, and my bullet journal as a gratitude exercise and to chart my own development as an adult. 

here is my spotify wrapped 2019!

the beginning of this year was off to a good start: i met two friends that i know through the internet! i met my friend riley when she visited boston (i met her through a mutual friend and through overwatch league twitter) and my friend jimmy that i’ve known for…. 6 or 7 years (?!) through tumblr and designed the logo for me and alex’s late podcast, hardly tea, may she rest in peace. 

i moved dorm rooms in between the fall and spring semester, and once again i was not happy with where i lived. i lived with 4 rando’s that i was placed with and the 5 of us barely even talked with each other. my direct roommate i saw for only two weeks, and for the nights he slept over in the bed (that he was paying room and board for) and had the worst snoring humanly possible that not even earplugs could kill (video below). i hardly slept while he was there and roamed the halls of riverview suites like a ghost due to the anxiety i felt about my lack of sleep (we love a vicious circle)! he disappeared after those two weeks without notice and i lived in fear of him returning for the rest of the semester (which he didn’t), but returned to my normal sleep schedule. 

that semester was my first semester of full-time grad school. i got a poor grade on an assignment that had a note from the professor that said she knew i could do better and it hit me how much different grad school is from undergrad and how much more effort and dedication it requires. after crying in my professor’s office, my work ethic has improved since then, but it’s not anywhere near where i’d like it to be (more on that later). 

now to more positive things for the spring semester: i met some friends that semester both ~on and offline~ that made the semester far more bearable AND i did however truly pop off in every last one of my powerpoint presentations for class. i looooove making powerpoints and just fuckin telling jokes about my research topic and have ppl tell me that they are looking forward to my presentation & that i should teach college classes :)!

me and 4 friends had a social group in which we’d drink and play board games and forget about the board game and drunkenly talk shit called cabam after all our first initials! i always looked forward to that and dug the group chemistry a lot.

during this semester i grew a   “ beard “, otherwise known as i chose not to shave just to  “ see what would happen “ (praythatitfilledin). sorry about that!

the overwatch league was something that i had to look forward to watch every week and i had my experience enhanced through sideshow and avast’s unofficial companion streams, which guaranteed lots of laughs. i have bought tickets to two boston home games in 2020 which i am very excited about! analysts have predicted boston to be in 20th place this year (there are 20 teams) but i’m still excited for the 2020 season anyway!!

i can’t have a year-in-review of 2019 without mentioning game of thrones. due to the show’s final season being undeniably weak, i enjoyed the camaraderie with the other people that watched thrones during those six weeks. i haven’t thought about the show or its universe for quite a while, unfortunately. i truly was quite into the world of westeros, but the weakness of the end of the story cheapened the journey of each of the characters, in a way. such a shame.

while i got my diploma in december 2018, i walked across the stage of umass lowell’s tsongas arena with my bachelor of arts in psychology (and minor in theatre arts). it wasn’t as emotional or triumphant of an experience and just felt weird, considering i had already gotten my diploma and was going to remain in the clutches of rowdy the riverhawk as i am staying for my masters degree in applied behavior analysis/autism studies. i brought a ceramic monkey to graduation. it didn’t have any symbolism, but i just wanted to see if they’d stop me (which they didn’t)

 this summer was better than most summers of mine go, i hung out with alex nearly every weekend, got my very first iphone, and got a data plan. the combination of these three things got me back into playing pokemon go, an unexpectedly fun pastime! went on lots of walks!

my favorite day of summer was going to a lake with alex and our friend gianna, who i grew closer to after meeting her during macbeth last year. fond 2019 memories with gianna include: doing simulation patients with her, watching movies with her and alex, and the halloween party. what a great gd person and a great gd friend! big fan and eternally rooting for her. 

fire emblem: three houses came out on the switch in august and is, without a doubt, my game of the year. there’s truly so much to love about the game: the world, the characters, new changes made to the series, things that were gone but returned, interesting micromanaging, and best of all, how huge my brain feels when playing it. 

i got a 6-week summer job as a paraprofessional at an extended-school-year program for children with developmental disabilities at a preschool in haverhill which taught me a lot of lessons, such as: i hate cleaning shit off of children.

then i had feelings that didn’t make much sense for about a month! whoops!

my full-time job i currently have is working at my old high school as a behavior specialist. i provide consultation and work on programs to lead to more appropriate behavior in students, primarily ones with developmental disabilities. so far it’s been fairly rewarding, some days are more challenging than others, some days are a lot of sitting in meetings, and some days are a lot of running around. some days there is not much to do at all, which has its obvious upsides and downsides. working at the high school isn’t something that i want to do forever, but it’s a good place to start with. i’m definitely learning a lot and there are a lot of benefits to working here. sometimes i can work on my grad school work (which is all online until the 2020 summer semester) which is definitely huge. and my commute is either a 15 minute walk or 3 minutes if my mom drives me! 

a ~complex~ thing about working in my hometown is that it makes the most financial sense to live at home because it’s so close to work. this is my first time living at home full-time since high school and i’m not enjoying that part too much. most weekends i visit alex in lowell, but being stuck at home with no car (going to retake the license test in the spring when the ice melts!) and having to go to bed so early definitely hurts. sure, i have what is likely the lowest amount of expenses i’ll ever have in my life (no car-related payments, no rent, no groceries), but i feel landlocked. i feel like a teenager with minimal freedom, which is in part because my mom doesn’t quite understand yet that i’m a 22 year-old that should have a lot more freedom than i do now. the most i really do on weekdays after work gets out (2:30p) is go to savers with my mom if it’s tuesday (senior citizen day), maybe go for a walk if it’s nice out (which for most of the school year, it isn’t), or be on the computer watching bon appetit videos and playing overwatch, fire emblem, or pokemon, eat a bland dinner at 6, go to bed at around 9:30. sad! truly not a situation that i want to be trapped in that much that much longer!

i think the best and most important part of this year was becoming closer with alex. as i mentioned before, we see each other most weekends, to our great benefit. our living situations have flip-flopped, with me living at home and alex living in an apartment near campus, which in both similar and different ways have taken their respective tolls on us. having each other while going through changes and stagnations in our lives has been immeasurably important. thank you alex for providing a place to be myself other than my own head. thank you for being my best friend. 

now i come to the thing that i’m most excited about for 2020. not 2 suck my own horn but i have cobbled together a fuckin dream team of five friends (me, alex, chris, kelly, and molly). the two times we have all gotten together it has been so satisfying in such a wonderful and otherworldly way that i am filled to the brim of happiness being around them. the craziest thing is that i met chris and kelly through twitter! TWITTER. and they’re real-ass people and my real-ass friends! i haven’t been so pleased with something in my life like this for so long and it feels so good to have adult friends that i have chosen rather than friends by circumstance. it’s truly a crime that we can’t see each other more often, but we already have a day picked out for the next time we all do something together. feeling emotional writing this paragraph bc i love me gd friends so much!

there is a lot of uncertainty about this new year for me. i sure as fuck don’t want to live at home more than i have to but don’t know where to go, my practicum class starts for me this summer which means i’ll most likely have to change jobs (fine by me, but will be exhausting), i recently began my search for therapists and hope to find one soon to help me ~unpack things~, my thesis begins in the fall semester and i don’t know what to do for it, and i’m not 100% dead-set on working in special education. it’s been hard transitioning from living on campus and going to school full-time to the life i have now. 

[hmel78]

In conversation with Doogie White ...

Circa 1994, when it was announced that guitarist Ritchie Blackmore was reforming Rainbow, rumours flooded the music community regarding who might feature in the line-up, but ultimately it was a collective of relative unknowns who made it onto the new record, and the tour bus ...

The album, “Stranger In Us All”, was issued under the name “Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow” in August 1995, and features Paul Morris on keyboards, Greg Smith on bass, John O’Reilly on drums, Blackmore’s Night’s Candice Night on background vocals, and fronted by Doogie White, the singer was an inspired choice; a huge fan of Ritchie’s career in both Purple and Rainbow, the singer formed a strong writing partnership with the guitarist. The album includes a reworking of The Yardbirds’ ‘Still I’m Sad’, which had been recorded for Rainbow’s debut, 20 years earlier ; Ritchie’s classical flights of fancy are truly achieved on his arrangement of Edvard Grieg’s ‘Hall Of The Mountain King’, and tracks such as ‘Wolf To the Moon’, ‘Hunting Humans (Insatiable)’ and ‘Ariel’ proved themselves to be worthy additions to the Rainbow catalogue. When it came to playing live, songs from both Rainbow and Purple were revisited, and fans are lucky enough - on the re-issue of “Stranger In Us All” -  to be presented with a unique live recording from a 1995 Swedish concert, of ‘The Temple Of The King’ - it also features a radio edit of the single ‘Ariel’, plus the song ‘Emotional Crime’ that has previously only been released in Japan.

Accompanying the extensive liner notes is a personal account from singer Doogie White, plus plenty of artwork and memorabilia from Doogie’s own Rainbow collection.

Doogie White has had a pretty extensive career as a singer / songwriter since his days with Rainbow - We caught up with him whilst on a train to Mannheim to find out more ...

HR : Having been a fan of Rainbow prior to joining them in 1994, how did it feel to suddenly have such a prominent role in the band?

Doogie White : It was a huge moment for me in every way.   There I was, a cheeky upstart who had long admired all that Ritchie did, being personally asked by him to come to America and join his band. He knew nothing about me and I thought I knew all about him. We hit it off straight away from the first notes we played together. We played old Purple and Rainbow songs and some bar band standards and jammed a few ideas just for him to see what I could do on the improvisation front.

I was only supposed to be there 4 days but he asked me to stay for a week. We discussed what kind of album we wanted to make. We played football. He did some magic tricks and we jammed for hours.

We had a good and healthy working relationship and a fine friendship. I knew my place and was happy to be part of his new adventure. He shared his hopes and fears. He trusted me.

I think we made a fine album with some good songs and a couple of real Rainbow classics. There were a couple we compromised on and we did have better ideas but we never finished them so that they could not be released as “bonus” tracks at a later date. I know how much he hated the re released Purple stuff with alternate takes.

I have hours of material but it’s in the Loft ...

HR : Despite the sudden nature of the break-up in 1997, was the overall experience of those 3 years a positive one?

DW : Yes!  Even at the very end when I decided it was here and no further,  it was all good and positive. It was sad of course as I felt there was more work to do and I had given him a tape with 6 song ideas for the next album. Some ended up on Cornerstone’s HUMAN STAIN and another on a TANK album. I treated my time in Rainbow like Ali treated the Heavyweight Crown.   It was the wrong time for the kind of music we were doing but we did it anyway.

Despite what Ritchie says, or in most cases does not say, we got on well until we did not.  His choice not mine. HR : To me it has always seemed strange that it literally ended over night - like a political coup d’etat! - Especially as You seemed to fit Ritchies criteria perfectly ; with what you contributed as both performer and writer. There are many citations which suggest that through Your input, there was a wider range of material that could be performed live, and also Ritchie stated [at the time] that Stranger In Us All was the best thing he had recorded to date - does  that reflect how You felt whilst working with him and Rainbow?  

DW : I don’t think Stranger In Us All is the best thing he did. I don’t even think it’s the best thing I have done. That’s just him promoting the album. It has its place and that is for others to judge. It was a good album though!

I just followed his lead. If he wanted to go off and jam some blues of folk or silly songs I was there as were the rest of the band (Greg Smith, John O’Reilly or Chuck Burgi, Paul Morris, and others) to back him up. He knew that we knew what was required, and also knew what I could bring to the party - he exploited that to the max some nights! He has said he does not like fun and that music is a serious business, but for anyone who saw that ‘95 tour you know that there was some serious music and some serious fun on stage! We were enjoying each other and pushing each other. He’s quite talented like that.

Then others got his ear and were feeding him negative stuff, whispering’s, designed to disrupt him, for his ears only and that was unhelpful - but it suited their agenda and just made him more suspicious, which he had never been with me before.

No one in the band was doing anything other than enjoying being in the band and RAWKin on stage every night. There were no egos just a happy band doing the best they could every night,  and those who saw it knew it was good. I did say if he had a problem with me, for him to come to me and we could sort it out - But that is not his nature and he never did. So when it came down to it he was prepared to believe what he wanted and what he was being told and have things done in his name that were quite frankly beneath the man. When his management were being obstructive I wrote directly to him and he honoured all his commitments to me and made sure that his management paid what was due at the time. That’s how it should be.

HR : And that’s where it stopped  - until now ... “Stranger In Us All” has just been re-released and given a new lease of life?

DW : Yes they have pumped out the frequencies and it really sounds lot better than the flat linear sound of the original.

We should have added some of the extra tracks I have of the demos. But there are far too many hoops to jump through and it would mean new agreements between him and I. That’s not a path he wants to walk. HR : No, understood - but going back to when the original album was released - Obviously you were unaware of the fact that it would be the only recording that Rainbow would make at the time (possibly the last ever one?)  - does it change the way that you feel about it? Do you ever listen to it?

DW : I don’t listen to it at all. I don’t listen to anything I have done other than a couple of times when I get it. Occasionally something will pop up randomly on my iTunes and and a wee nostalgic smile passes my lips. But actually with SIUA - I remember every ounce of effort ; every change of lyric, key, tempo - So it has a different flavour for me than for others. I am proud of it, yet I know that we could have done better. But I was new to the big spotlight and while I stood my ground for a bit every now and again, it was Ritchie’s band and he got to do what he wanted.  Pat [Regan] was producing it and had his instructions on how to guide me.   I was just happy to be waking up every day knowing that today was going to be a new adventure.

I had so much fun all the time. Even when the dark clouds were hovering as they kinda did for the last while. His management did go out of their way to make band, and on the road, life a little less inclusive or welcoming ... But It was that 90 mins on stage that made anything worthwhile.

From what people have told me it’s a shame he now has such a distorted view of our time together. But it’s not my business and I don’t care what he thinks about it or how he feels about me.  I have seen some of the comments attributed to him that people send me. He really does re write his own history and I always have a good giggle at some of the nonsense he comes out with.   He loved it at the time, but to be fair it was a long long time ago and perhaps NOT the most important endeavour he has done musically. I look back at it slightly differently because it was VERY important to me. It was the best of times and will never be repeated for him, or for me.

HR : Well thankfully it didn’t deter you from carrying on! You have been involved with many great artists and projects during your career - have you any particular favourite memories?

DW : My memory palace is overflowing with errr memories from my times with LA PAZ  and CORNERSTONE, YNGWIE and SCHENKER, through TANK and beyond. I have a wonderful life and I am having a wonderful career - And if I am honest, really honest, my career would have been very different had it not been for that one tape I passed to Colin Hart who passed it to Ritchie Blackmore,  who made that fateful call one Saturday night in April 1994. I am forever in his debt and do you know what? He will get no joy at all from me saying that, and that is kind of pleasing!

HR : [laughs] Now I don’t mean to offend you by comparing you to a musical nomad, but you do seem to have moved around quite a bit -  If you could have settled for any greater length of time, or even permanently with one of those bands, who would it have been?

DW : I always have plenty to do recording and writing and performing. There is no dirt on the back of my shoes.

I was with Ritchie for 3 years, Yngwie for 6, Schenker now for 5. I would have been happy to do another album with Ritchie but he had a time machine and went away to his beloved middle ages with all the comforts of the 21Century.

With Yngwie we had run our course but remain friends, if not in touch much.

With Michael I hope to continue our successful partnership. We needed time away to do other things after the 4 years of intense touring/recording - Just to get some fresh experiences and know what side the bread is buttered.

HR : That’s always a bonus! What about future plans? Any more solo work or new collaborations in the pipeline?

DW : I am doing an album with a Bulgarian metal band called John Steel. (Blaze did their first) I will be finishing it when I am back from my short run of solos shows with my band WHITE NOISE (Italian Chapter).

I am always working. Sometimes under the radar sometime soaring like an eagle. Its all good and its all fun.

HR : You always look content to be on stage, and just take it all in your rock stride! Ha! What’s the strangest gig you’ve ever played?

DW : With La Paz in the 80’s at a place called ‘Roots of Cleghorn’ run by a lad called “Chicken George”. It was farming country and George was the only black guy for 100 miles. We played to a farmer in a bunnet and his sheep dog,  and George was the door man collecting the money! HR : Haha! No way!? Well from ‘Roots Of Cleghorn’ to Stockholm Circus -  If you could take a ‘dream’ band on the road, who would be your line-up, and what songs would make it to the setlist?

DW : I would just want to be backing singer for David Bowie, and cover  anything from “Love you til Tuesday” to “Blackstar”.

[marieantoine]

I, Psyche

Here Tumblr, my first attempt to write something after a lot of years. It’s a very descriptive, personal analysis I made on Psyche’s character. She is my favorite character from Greek Mythology. I need lots of painfully honest opinions guys, thank you in advance! <3

There was once a famous human beauty by the name of Psyche.  In her hair lied the melancholy of bronze shimmer, reminding of the freshly fallen leaves of late August. In the sunlight, her gentle curls shone with the kind of metallic glister that the mighty pharaohs of Egypt dreamed of adorning their bodies with. Her eyes were emeralds, and frightening was their glance, the look of those deep dark green crystals… The whole image of a flawed human soul unraveled itself into the depth of her eyes! ...with a magnitude that could make even the roughest of beings dissolve into tears. And yet, to those pure of heart, the spectacle of her eyes exuded an ethereal feeling, absorbing the whole body and soul. It was the feeling of a drop of water falling into the sea. It was frightening at first, indeed, but turned with time to be so recomforting - because, when you saw her eyes -  you knew that there was a divine existence reigning over the Universe, coordinating everything from above. You knew that the Gods had one day willingly decided to bestow such unparalleled beauty on a mere mortal - otherwise it would be an impossibility on Nature’s part to create such sublime perfection.  I could tell you endlessly of her physical virtues - her silky, white, soft skin. The symmetry of her face, the tender roundness of her arms. Her shoulders, that, just like the softly refined edges of a beach, hadn’t any real beginning or end - they were just impeccably sculpted in the way that not even a Renaissance master could replicate.  But, that would do nothing but feed into the convention that envious humans have of the creatures touched by the divine. Psyche was aware of her beauty, she was mindful of the power she held over manly instinct and she was at times disheartened by the prisma of hate & envy that other women saw her through.  She pitied them, though - she pitied them all.  ‘’What do they know of being beautiful? They are so ignorant! - they so often forget how much of a damn curse it is! Yes, indeed, it’s pleasing for one to look perfect, doing absolutely anything, not having to worry about being seen from an unflattering angle or a bad side. But what do they know about the pain of seeing divinity in the mirror, and hating, dreading the face looking back at you? What do they know of the rejection, of the emptiness, the loneliness ?’’ she thought Despite her beauty, Psyche was a indeed a lonely person. She had a sociable life, invited at every party, meeting all kinds of people, enchanting and/or scandalizing them only by being kind to them, by lacking the arrogance that was expected of her - for most of us have an internalized belief that people blessed with physical beauty must lack in some other much more important department, like intellect, emotional intelligence or humour.  But it was exactly this quality that took her above the standards of human beauty.  She was not the only beautiful girl in the world, but she was the kind of girl words like radiant are reserved for.  Yes, she had an ecstatic bodily figure and a grace in her movement that made her look as if  walking on thin air - but that was not what made her a divine beauty.  She was a genuinely kind person, not lacking in intelligence, both emotional and logical. And, if  her father had allowed it, Psyche might have been a mathematical genius and a prodigy of the fine arts, for she had a born instinct for the exploration of mathematics & logics. She was born with such longing for novelty and scientific discovery; a longing so intrinsically essential to the human nature. Or, at least, essential for her happiness and clarity of thought.  As well as a mathematician, dear Psyche was a painter, and a very skillful one at that. She had the ability of replicating what she saw almost to the accuracy of a picture, but almost, indeed. She could copy every detail of nature on her canvas - but to what end? Art is not replicating what you see, art lies in the manner of presenting nature in a whole new way, Psyche believed.Therefore, she always sprinkled her canvas with a nuance of magic & surrealism. Why was she - such a nice, kind, intelligent person - why was she so tragically lonely? It’s because she intimidated everyone around her. The women she met started conversations with her out of pure curiosity, after whispering dirty rumours about her in the corners, and they all walked up to her with the powerful conviction that something must be wrong with her - with the intention of revealing for themselves and all others that this beautiful girl was just that - a beautiful nymph that someday will succumb to age and fade away as gently as a rose dying at the first snow of a late autumn.  They tested her in every possible way - in their conversations some women would bring up some of the most intellectual subjects that they could think of and expect her to not understand and be able to respond to their remarks. They would tempt her to act disrespectfully, unkindly and even tried to make her angry & mean. But the more they dived into her thoughts and feelings, the more they tried to break through the surface of her personality - the more they discovered that there was nothing scandalous, immoral or shameful in this girl. Her soul & mind matched the grace of her outer appearance. She was a being that had successfully balanced her outer and inner self. She was kind and did good deeds out of the pure conviction that she would hate to do anything to provoke sadness and suffering in the world - with a pure belief that all people deserved someone there to at least try to prevent their suffering. She understood that everyone’s life is a little tragedy of their own - and if, for only one day you would be allowed to feel what they feel, to have their memories and walk around one day in their life - you would feel how each and everyone of their actions was completely justified. Psyche believed that every person in this world was worth crying for, in one way or another, and sometimes she cried at the thought of people not understanding the tragedy, the pain behind a person’s apparently hateful actions. She would sometimes be angered by humans’ inability to try understanding one another and seeing things from the other’s perspective. She believed with her whole soul in the idea that understanding one another would bring about a golden age of fulfillment to humanity. She was sometimes angry at herself for being angered by the hatefulness and envy that people directed at her through words & actions. She would get angry at herself for being shallow and selfish, not understanding the actions of the people around her and seeing herself as the victim, when, really, everyone was a victim of simply being alive. ‘’They are hateful because they are hurting inside.’’ she told herself. She wanted to understand them, to forgive them all, and she did, but some days she just wished the continuous tests and interrogation and envy would just stop. Even men, visibly aroused at the mere sight of her, were too intimidated and afraid to approach her.  They venerated her as the reincarnation of Aphrodite, and, in truth, didn’t see her as much of a human. They could not believe that Psyche would ever fall in love with an ordinary person, someone like them - and it was indeed a bit impossible to fall in love with a man that could not even hold a decent conversation. Some tried to talk to her, sometimes, but the visible nervousness in their voice and continuous fidgeting made her uncomfortable and nervous as to how she could possibly reassure and calm them down. It was a rare thing for a man to approach her, though. And so - our Psyche had never experienced the fiery passion of love, in a society where at 17 most girls were married and were usually having their second child by then. Of course, the people who broke through the surface of her beauty and got to know her personally discovered extraordinary qualities. They could find no fault in her - except maybe the naiveté of a young girl that she at her 17 years of age was fully entitled to possess. She was at times naive, she tended to live in the past too often and she would be trapped by her passion to build a better world, not being able to properly express herself due to the power of her feelings. These were very human faults, that no one could ever really condemn her for.  Because indeed, with her divine beauty and faultless personality, Psyche was far from a Goddess. She was a human being, just like you & me, with dreams, passions, thoughts, worries, feelings and an unstoppable curiosity. Given the chance, she would’ve loved nothing more than to build herself a ship and go out on the open oceans, just to see what’s on the other side.  We humans are tirelessly ambitious - and as youngsters we try to attain perfection in all that we do, until, someday, we stop trying. After suffering, crying and working laboriously in the name of perfection - without an expected result - someone comes by and tells us perfection is a myth. Or that perfect is imperfect. All people who have once been young and ambitious have undoubtedly experienced this, once.  And that is why people were afraid of her - they saw in her the kind of perfection & completion that they had told themselves was impossible to achieve, and therefore not worth chasing after. They saw that perfection taking form in the human flesh, and ran tirelessly, away, the second they pinched themselves and saw that it was not a dream. Ran away from the suffering, tried denying their human instinct of perfection… all to preserve their current consolation in life, the alleviation of living in a world where perfect is impossible

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 2X19 - Lacey

I don’t know what this episode LACED itself with, but I’m tripping over how good it is!

Read below the cut and find out why!

Press Release

Mr. Gold enlists the aid of David to help him try to jog Belle’s now cursed memories and get her to love him again; and when it is revealed that the magic beans Anton and the dwarves have been harvesting have begun to grow and could possibly transport everybody home, Emma is torn over whether she would want to live in fairytale land or stay in our world. Meanwhile, in the fairytale land that was, Rumplestiltskin forces Belle to accompany him on a hunt to kill a thief, whom she had freed in the name of mercy. General Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness Past I love this flashback. We get to see the first chronological bit of good that Belle sees in Rumple, and it feels pretty earned. The structure here is good, showing Rumple reveal more and more of his goodness as it progresses while still not shying away from the more monstrous aspects of his personality. I’ll talk about that shortly, but that is so important to do when making a Rumple centric. And Belle is fantastic here too! While believing that Rumple can change, she’s true to her desire to be a hero and isn’t afraid to dole out vigilante kindness, something she does later on in the series! Present LACEY IS MY QUEEN! Look, I know that she’s little more than a one off in a lot of respects, but fuck it. I love this character. She’s part Valkyrie and part Cruella, a total boozer, but a wickedly fun time, too! Lacey is not just the anti-Belle, but she’s someone so fun and distinct. She drinks and plays pool and listens to rock music and is okay with beating the crap out of people! But what makes her so great in my eyes is how strong she is in her convictions that she’s not Belle and that Rumple has to respect her identity. I just love how she refuses to be projected on!

For as much as I like Emma, I feel because barely any time was dedicated to her subplot regarding returning home (Apart from giving Regina her first inklings of suspicion about the beans, which she could’ve learned through other means, honestly), it would’ve been better off being cut in favor of some DESPERATELY needed Rumple/Neal screen time. That having been said, I liked two and a half of the three scenes that the subplot revolved around for the stellar character interactions. All Encompassing More than anything, I appreciate this episode for how it handles Rumple’s character in both realms. Rumple is a difficult character to do because he cannot nor should be Woobie-fied. Here is a great example: Rumple has a monstrous nature. It’s not one that can’t be overcome and the narrative sets out to show that much, but it, even more than his cane, is his crutch for when he feels like the people in his life let him down. When outside influences of good can’t be depended on for a moral dessert, Rumple will default back to that nature. And when they can (Or at least give him a good ole pep talk), he proves himself capable of taking it down. What works about this episode for me is how that mindset is not framed as a good thing. Rumple’s reliance on his more monstrous nature as a crutch may have earned Lacey’s affections, but that aspect of the ending is not framed positively (Everything from the music to the lighting to the parallels to the past says as much), nor should it. Insights - Stream of Consciousness -The most unrealistic thing about this dream sequence is the fact that Rumple would ever hold a birthday party in his shop. I mean, look at that cake! He wouldn’t be smiling! He’d be grumbling about how frosting was getting all over the counter the whole time! -So Rumple CAN sleep! His bed is comfy! I’m just going to HC that one can either imbue sleep upon themselves with magic or that as one gets more seasoned with the Dark One curse, they can sleep. -This entire bit with Regina and Rumple realizing they’re family just cracks me up! -I really love the set that Regina and Rumple walk through during their conversation. I wish we got to see it more often. The windy path and the red fences make it damn memorable! -I like how Belle has finally accepted that Belle is her name! About time! -”You’ve been locked up long enough.” True dat. -Rumple, that pillow is gonna do fuck all to drown out Belle’s sobbing. She can’t press her head into that! -Rumple, that was a very un-you like way of poofing! -I love Rumple’s flair for the dramatics with that fucking arrow! I love you, you little shit! -”All magic comes with a price, and in your case, dearie, that’s me.” Is it just me, or does that sound like the opening to a Rumple/Robin Hood porno? XD -”I’m sure Mr. Gold will be thrilled.” He will by the end of the episode! XD -”The package.” Well, he certainly does have that, but just call him Hook! -Yes! Whoever is dangerous will matter if you go back to your land! Stop them here first! -Awww! I love seeing Anton! And he’s good at darts! Now I want him to play with Killian! FIC IDEA!!! -Grumpy! Why are you being so mean to Anton! Did you two have a domestic? -Anton is just the sweetest!!!! I just want to give him a huuuuggg! -”After what I did to Cora, I think restoring our land is the best way to mend it.” HOW?! Like, how would that work? Cora would still be dead (not that I believe for a second what you did was wrong, but I get it: guilt) and as Emma pointed out: “DANGER.” -Unngghh. I hate the latter half of this Charming family scene. Snow and David are offering Emma nothing but platitudes (And empty ones) in the face of her very real concerns. -I love Rumple’s pissed off face in the hospital. He looks like he sucked on a lemon. -I love the bartender at the Rabbit Hole! He’s so nice and proud of the joint, but still smart enough to be afraid of Rumple! -Lacey in that blue sleeveless top makes me...feel things. Very gay things. By the way, does Red Lace (Ruby/Lacey) exist? And if not, why not? -Rumple’s biggest act of cruelty is making Belle wear a fucking ball gown for however long it was between when Belle and Rumple first made their deal and when Rumple finally got her another dress. -Belle is such a BAMF with how she saves Robin Hood? -”I’m sorry. Do I look like a one-handed pirate with a pistol?” No, but you would ROCK that look! -Okay, the more I hear Regina talk about Neal, the more I want Rumple and Neal to CONVERSE! Like seriously! It’s been three episodes at this point! -SHEEP BROOOOOOOOSSSS!!! -I gotta say, I don’t appreciate the Lacey shaming, Rumple. -”David Nolan still won Mary Margaret’s heart.” No, he didn’t! -”Overpraised lasagna.” I take back what I said earlier: THIS is your biggest act of cruelty, Rumple! -”Someone who’d have killed all of you.” THANK YOU, RUMPLE! -”If you do, for the first time ever, I’m gonna owe you a favor.” DO IT!!! Like, pun intended, that is an offer good as Gold! XD -Gotta admire Belle’s poker face as Rumple prepares to torture Robin! XD -Jeez! Way to make Rumple sound like Gaston with her schtick about books! -”People who steal magic never have good intentions.” Speaking from experience or something, Rum Rum? -Rumple, you’re at a 10 and you need to come down to like an 8, okay? Cool. -I love Lacey listing off all of these bands and I completely HC that Weaver rocks out to ALL of them! -You can just see the cogs in Lacey’s brain twirl as she decides to give his suit-claden square a chance! XD -”Don Juan was nothing before he made a deal with me.” Rumple is basically the Hitch of the OUAT world! XD - I love how Emma is trying so damned hard to get along with Regina while also not losing the bite in her that someone would have after Regina and Cora tried killing her family. -I fucking love Lacey! She knows she on a date with the richest guy in town and she is gonna string him along for every fucking cent! XD Chicken parm and white wine? Hell yeah! -Lacey, stay forever! Like, I want Belle to take that serum so we can keep Lacey because she is just amazing! What a personality! What a funny and dark woman! -”I see a man who wouldn’t hurt anyone.” Rumple...you are something special, man. Warped, but special. -Lacey, I know you’re about to ditch, but at least glug some of that GIANT ASS glass of free wine you just got! Like, for fucking real! -Thank you, Rumple for finally giving Belle a dress she can conceivably move in! -”What would people think if I spared the life of someone who stole from me?” Considering you tortured him for a short while and the only reason he escaped was because of a third party, they’d probably still be pretty scared! -Belle ROCKS those gloves! -Sheriff, quit while you’re ahead! -Marian!!!! Hi!!!! -Honestly, Rumple, you’d be better off if Robin didn’t die. Then TWO people could ward off people from breaking deals with you. -”You are not the kind of man to leave a child fatherless.” As @onceuponatimeihadalife pointed out, you can see how these words affect Rumple. He’s reminded of both the prophecy he got from the Seer AND how Bae was left fatherless by his and Milah’s actions. It’s such a cleverly written show of Rumple’s other soft spot and how Belle on some level gets Rumple, even this early in their time together. -”She may have loved you, but I am not her.” LACEY FUCKING ROCKS MY SOCKS! I love how adamant Lacey is about her own identity! She forces Rumple to understand that she won’t be pushed into being someone she isn’t just to be his manic pixie dream girl, and that loudness is just fantastic. -”New guy always buys.” With what money?! -Ooh! I love that tracing magic Regina uses! It not only looks pretty, but is such a smart move on her part! -I feel bad for Keith. The one time he’s not the worst, he gets beat up for it. -Seeing Neal carry Henry is both funny and adorable! -Awwww! August and Henry are buddies!!! -Killian’s baccccck!!! And in fully bondage (I’m willing to bet @killian-whump appreciates that)!!! Arcs - How are These Storylines Progressing? The Storybrooke Citizens Going Home - This arc honestly hasn’t left much of an impression on me. I’d say it was due to lack of suspense, but even on this go around, I’ve found arcs that I knew the ending of to still be thrilling. This one, less so. It’s barely been brought up, and in this episode, we’ve barely seen Emma take the time to really go into greater details about her...dil-EMMA! And I don’t get everyone’s hurry to get out of town because there’s just as much danger back in the Enchanted Forest, even without Rumple and Regina (And even still, they could totally get there, let’s not fool ourselves). Rumple getting back to his son - I’m kind of frustrated that it’s been THREE episodes since Rumple and Neal spoke to each other in a scene. THREE. Rumple spent a century trying to get back to his son. I feel like he should be all but hounding Neal to spend time together. I want to see the payoff to this passion that drove Rumple to create (or at the very least steal) a curse that would screw over an entire land! Even just a one off acknowledgement of him trying to see Neal would be great! But no! Favorite Dynamic Sheep Bros. Not much to say here, but David and Rumple have a great rapport and seeing David help Rumple woo (or seemingly woo) Lacey is just funny! Josh and Robert have great chemistry and seeing Rumple and David’s personalities clash is a real treat! Writer Adam and Eddy have really had a terrific season! They’ve landed several astounding episodes, and I’m happy to say that this is another! There’s a very careful balance with character depiction and storytelling balance on display in this episode. Rumple and Lacey’s characters are handled so delicately. With Rumple, I like how there is no ambiguity of the fact that his morality can change on a dime. He has the power over how he conducts himself, and he very much values gratification for his efforts and will change his tune should things not work out in his favor. With Lacey, A&E went a long way to ensure that Lacey was someone who was annoying to Rumple, but not to the audience. She’s funny and the sheer fact of how much of an opposite to Belle she is just makes for an engaging ride! I did however not enjoy some of the dialogue. To me, some of the lines were either deceptive of character traits or a little heavy on platitudes. Culture I have thoughts on exactly who Lacey is as a character, mostly in regard to whether or not she is Belle’s true cursed form. I personally don’t think Lacey is Belle’s true cursed form, and I come to that conclusion based on not only pre-Regina instances of her cursed self, but the cursed selves of others. First, let’s talk about Belle post-memory wipe. If you recall, Sneezy had a memory wipe too, but he strictly reverted to his original cursed version. In the same manner, so did Belle. And when we finally got some extended scenes with her, we see she’s nothing like Lacey. While pretty panicked due to all the magical stuff and the car accident and all, she’s more or less pretty similar to her real self. Just listen to Belle’s kindness when Rumple talks to her early on in this episode at the hospital. Those words could’ve so come out of Belle’s mouth just as easily. She’s all set out to help Rumple aspire to be good and even shows him some real kindness again!

That brings me to my second point. When we look at the cursed Storybrooke characters like Snow, Charming, Ruby, and Grumpy in comparison to their real selves, there’s so such dramatic deviation the likes of Belle and Lacey. Their personalities chime much closer to home with maybe one or two differing qualities (Ex. Snow’s missing her bravery as MM, Charming’s missing his sense of honor as cursed David). This holds true for Belle’s memory wiped self pre-Regina far more than post-Regina.

So what does that make Lacey? IMHO, a corruption -- possibly even a reset. Regina clearly magicifies that matchbox to give Belle false memories, and the ensuing personality is something that is only made to screw over Rumple. In the past, Regina didn’t put much effort into Belle’s cursed form because as far as she knew, Rumple would never discover her. However, now that she’s about to be a player in Rumple’s life, Regina decides to stop her influence. I mean, I know Rumple claims they’re her “cursed” memories, but I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem right to me.

At the same time though, as I was writing this, I had a great conversation with @mrs-stiltskin where she pointed out that Belle’s relatively tamer pre-Regina cursed personality was more of a result of being a blank slate and Lacey was the actual creation of a personality, and that’s an interpretation that I also readily accept, AND it supports Rumple and Regina’s words too! Rating Golden Apple. What more can I even say? The story and its execution are fantastic. A&E balanced Rumple and Lacey like fucking katana swords. It’s a charming story (pun always intended) that’s pretty freakin’ funny when it needs to be while also being emotionally satisfying. Even the stuff I didn’t like gave way to some good scenes and I only disliked them because there was more that I wanted to see (*cough* RUMPLE AND NEAL *cough*). Flip My Ship - Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness” Rumbelle - The past has some pretty good Rumbelle. For one thing, I love how Rumple stumbles over trying to explain why he didn’t kill Belle. Suuuuuure, Rumple. Also, you gotta love how Rumple gives the Sheriff of Nottingham the most well deserved punishment ever for attempting to trade Belle like cattle! XD Also, that hug post-sparing was just ADORABLE!!! Finally, the library scene shows the first inklings of Rumple falling in love with Belle as their themes merge and the thematically binding line of the episode is spoken. AND before we go into Golden Lace territory, let’s talk about some present Rumbelle. Just look at Belle’s face and voice when Rumple appears in the hospital alive! She’s so happy!!! And it’s so nice how now that they’re able to talk, Belle can connect with Rumple so much more easily. Finally, I really like how angry Rumple gets at Regina for forcing Belle to revert to her cursed self. Golden Lace - Rumple is trying so freakin’ hard to impress Lacey and it’s adorable! Look at him tripping over himself as he tries to hold the menu at Granny’s! It’s honestly adorable! And Lacey couldn’t be more thirsty for Rumple’s darkness if she was locked in fucking Care-a-lot for a year beforehand! I love this bit of ANOTHER villain ship!!! Swanfire - Emma and Neal only get two minutes together, but they take full advantage of it! I like how Emma and Neal, while not fully knowledgeable of the other’s situation, are able to understand each other. And they have some nice chemistry! Aww! And Neal believes in Emma’s ability to figure the truth of August’s message out! ()()()()()()()()() What a great episode!!!! Thank you for reading my review and to the fabulous folks at @watchingfairytales! Btw, after exactly one vote (Thanks, Sarah!), I have decided to combine the finale review! It’s gonna be a LONG one!

Next time, while Lacey may be my queen, there’s another one just waiting to be in the spotlight once more. See you guys then! Season 2 Tally (157/220) Writer Tally for Season 2: Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis: (50/60) Jane Espenson (35/50) Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg (31/50) David Goodman (24/30)* Robert Hull (24/30)* Christine Boylan (17/30) Kalinda Vazquez (28/30)* Daniel Thomsen (18/20)* * Indicates that their work for the season is complete

Operation Rewatch Archives