#LIKE IF ANY OF THEM WERE TO ESPECIALLY WIN I REALLY WOULD SAY JO
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My man has not been marinating in his sins under three layers of leather for this 😔😔😔
But I mean. Okay. Incredibly funny choice of materials for a very serious assassin though right... if the sound designers were BRAVE ENOUGH they would've added So Much Creaking when he moves...
Also, congrats on Masato! If it were down to Jo, Arakawa, and Masato, who wins drip-wise?
he did not bake in that leather shirt and crocodile suit to lose to ODA 😭 but on the real though PLEASE Y7 but every jo scene has the underlying sound of leather and gator skin squeaking ☠️☠️☠️
a fashion competition between the arakawas though.... how evil i love all of their outfits so much and i can easily make a case for all of them..... i think i do have to say 2019 jo does take it for me: i really do love all the textures on his outfit and the spots of purple from his patterned tie and the small sliver of white from his vest are SO good....
#snap chats#LIKE IF ANY OF THEM WERE TO ESPECIALLY WIN I REALLY WOULD SAY JO#like for a reserved guy he really fuckin. went NUTSO with the fashion like OK????? took notes from the boss man#i love masato's 2000's look im p sure we all know... rgg's finally getting bold in giving men earrings.... also i love his shirt's pattern#it's not exactly paisley but it's very close and the stray hairs/bangs contrasting his slicked-back hair... exquisite...#and masumi just always has an air of Mystery to his outfits... very in character for an ex-theater kid LMAO#just throw some rings on him and call it a day i PROMISE#THATS PROBABLY WHY THIS FAMILY'S SO STYLISH THOUGH boss knows a thing or two about wardrobe...#but noooo listen i love masumi's three-piece suit in 2019 while he still wears the snakeskin dress shirt#and how his hair greys and his goatee just pull it all together palette wise.. lest i neglect The Coat... the DRAMA its so clean#AND THE SPOT OF COLOR FROM HIS BROWN KICKS UGH#they all look so good.......#to round off these tags tho Squeaky Jo just got me thinking of The Boots episode from spongebob ☠️☠️☠️
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🍭💜🤍🩶🧸 for jo and gio >:) <3
Ya know, I thought I wasn’t gunna do any more of these but then I got this one and well, who can resist JoxJoe?
🍭 What's something they can never agree on (big or small)?
Ummmm, life? 🤣
Like really in a grand scheme, Gio and Jo do not share a vision for the future. It’s part of the reason they avoid talking about it so much, and what lies behind most of their fights. Both of them want to be the one to decide what the other does, and that idea of “power” insofar as who gets to make the decisions and who’s vision wins out is something that hangs over their heads at nearly all times. The crossroads of peace that they are currently at is because Jo has given herself over to his vision of the future, and much of their best times in New Orleans were because he was doing the same then too.
💜 How do they silently show love or affection towards the other?
I don’t think Gio and Jo are the type to spend much time in silence (oh what a difference to our other couple). They quite literally always have something to talk about or something to say, and are both usually full of energy and liveliness. Even in conversation I don’t think small smiles or looks would suffice, and they’re both people who show their affection through touch.
For both of them, but Jo in particular, she will especially show her affection by staying in bed with him in the morning. She’s someone who wakes and immediately rises to her feet, so to stay there in quiet and just let herself be held is the ultimate display of her love.
🤍 What is their favorite or most admired quality in the other?
So I think that while Jo and Gio have great difficulty agreeing on what they want to do with their lives together (ahem, see question one), they immensely enjoy the other person and want to be around them as much as possible. Both of them are very joie de vivre sort of people who enjoy living life to the fullest and have fun doing so together.
On a deeper level, Jo loves Gio’s infectious positivity and humor. He’s a guy who dreams big, and has no trouble talking about all the things he envisions with an infectious sense of wonder and charm (it’s following through on those ideas and making the right choices in pursuing them that he lacks). Josephine herself is more action oriented, so that wondrous, dreaming side of him is very enchanting to her (and also why she’s drawn to Zelda). She also loves how willing he is to talk about it. Emotional expression comes easily to Giorgio, and Jo admires him for it because she knows it’s a strength she lacks in herself.
Conversely, Gio admires how willing Josephine is to go after what she wants. She lets very little stop her, and does everything with optimism and vigor. Her optimism is particular is something he finds attractive, because even when she’s knocked down she’s able to stand upright and keep walking. It’s why her depression really triggered his guilt, because he finally saw a side of her that he didn’t know existed. But this in turn only strengthened that admiration as he realized that when she does stand up and keep walking, she does it totally and with self determination.
🩶 Which one apologizes first? How do they apologize?
Like actually says “I’m sorry”, owns up to their mistakes and explains themselves? Gio. Only Gio. Josephine will not apologize (although she’s ~kind of~ trying). A full apology is something she sees as a power grab, a moment of “giving yourself up” to that person and she simply will not do it. She has…other methods that she uses to show Gio she’s sorry 😂
🧸 BONUS! Include one of your favorite moments between them!
Y’all ready for another montage? Cue the music…
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I don’t want to spam your inbox so…
Cam and Mike
Mike and Trent
Trent and Gwen
Gwen and Zoey
Zoey and Cam
Cam and Gwen
Gwen and Mike
Mike and Duncan
Duncan and Heather
Heather and Jo
Jo and Cam
Please never be afraid to spam me, I love attention. Gonna put this under a read more so it doesn't get too long.
Cammike
What's better than this, just bros being homies :) The thing I love about the Friendship Finale Gang is that they're all socially inept in their own special ways. I love any combination of these losers. Anyway Mike and Cam had one of the cutest friendships on the show. One thing I noticed about them and love is how casually intimate they are. Like, Mike openly hugs and carries Cam, and I dunno, it's kinda rare to see. Love that for them.
Trike
God put Trent and Mike in different seasons because we didn't deserve to see them as besties ❤ Seriously, it's a crime we never got to see them interact. I know they would've been homies, I know it. Also. Gwoey but let the dudes fuck too.
Gwent
I'm going to strangle Action to death with my bare hands. We could've been so great. Screaming and crying and throwing up, Gwen would never #notmygwen etc etc
They re also the first ship to get a bingo, neat!
Gwoey
Ngl they definitely had something queer going on. Probably because Gwen finally had a friend who didn't lowkey treat her like trash. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Mike and Zoey are unicorn hunters and Gwen is their third, change my mind.
Zocam
Friendship Finale Polycule just keeps winning. You know Cam was thinking it when Zoey was in full girlboss mode, absolutely manhandling him. He is a stronger man than I for not being absolutely bricked up on international tv. I don't have much to say, like every combination of these losers, they are wonderful. (Also they are a great backup if you're like me and ship Mike with like 50 fucking people)
Gwameron
Guuhhhhhh Gwameron my beloved. I firmly believe they are canon and endgame. They were so close the entire season, kissed in the finale and all. Have you seen the way she looked at him??? It is sooo weird to me that other people don't see it. They are like perfect for each other. Historians will say that they were just friends.
And hey, they also get a bingo! (Is it becoming obvious yet what I love most in my ships)
Gwike
(Peggle 2 voice) Gwent....... TWO!
Okay, but in all seriousness, I could absolutely see it. He would treat my girl RIGHT. Like she DESERVES. Especially great if you're like me and headcanon that the thing Gwen really wants in a partner is someone genuine to balance her cynicism.
Mikecan
This is just pussyless Malcan. No but I kinda see the potential. I'll be honest, there IS something appealing about the idea of Duncan being lowkey nervous around sweet ball of sunshine Mike. He is literally just standing there. (Already gave my thoughts on Malcan here)
Uhh... Duneather??
Okay. hear me out. hear me out. Just hear me out. I think they had more interesting potential than Duncney. To me, personally, Duncan is way way way more interesting when he's playing off someone worse than him, rather than when he's paired with someone more moral. Seeing him with characters like Alejandro or Mal will always interest me more that characters like Courtney or Zoey. But I digress, what I'm trying to say is that obviously he and Heather fit into the former category which makes them more interesting to me. The issue is that in most ways, Aleheather is just kinda, better. But Duncan and Heather have one thing Alejandro and Heather will never have: Duncan cheating with Heather would've made way more sense and been a way better storyline than he and Gwen. Also would've given Heather something to fuckin' DO in Action. Once again, Action drops the ball, and no one is surprised.
Fuck man, now you've got me obsessed with this thought. I might have to write up a whole meta about this. (If anyone wants it, that is.)
Jeather (?)
Ahh yes, peek homoerotic rivalry, you love to see it. Gay as hell to argue with another girl. Why you arguing with her, to listen to her beautiful voice? 👀 We we're robbed not getting more of them interacting.
Jocam
Something Something power dynamics, something something inherent eroticism. Kind of a girlboss/malewife dynamic, but make it evil. Not for me, but I see it.
#Asks#Sylbot.txt#td#total drama#I love answering asks actually ❤#ftr any time I talk about the Friendship Finale Polycule I am of course including Ingrid in that
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Also going through Maya’s route again really drove home the parallels with Maya and Aziz’s routes.
Whereas all the other parallel routes (Talia & Conrad, Jo & Viv, Imani & Alyosha) share a lot of similar events, plotlines or scenes, I feel like the parallels in Maya & Aziz’s routes are more thematic than anything. (Spoilers)
In Maya’s route, we learn that she was once in love and in some kind of relationship with the goddess Persephone. During the game Maya is still very much stuck in a toxic situationship with her. Persephone claims to love Maya and expects to Maya love her back, but she only uses that as an excuse to make Maya do her bidding. Even if once upon a time Maya might have had feelings for Persephone, she has clearly moved on emotionally. But she also feels like she cannot get out, both because she feels a huge debt for Persephone for helping to pay for her transition, and also because Persephone treats her like property and will not let her go.
Then we get to Aziz’s route, where Sam is also very much struggling to get away from another goddess, Inanna. It’s supposed to be a working relationship, but Inanna clearly acts like she owns Sam and doesn’t accept a no for an answer from him.
Just like many other gods and goddesses we meet in the story, Persephone and Inanna seem to view S.Humans as servants, barely human and not really having agency. Free will and being able to choose your destiny and how you live is one of the overarching themes in the whole game, and many of the gods don’t seem to think S.Humans are allowed to have that. At one point, Farah wonders “Do all gods see everyone like that? Or is it just us S.Humans?”
Maya and Persephone’s relationship also parallels that of Sam and Aziz’s, and shows how badly loving a god could turn out. Maya and Sam both have a romantic history with a god, even though Sam has been in denial about Aziz being one. Whereas Persephone will readily manipulate Maya’s emotions, uses her “love” for Maya as blackmail material and won’t accept any kind of disobedience, I feel like Aziz does not actively try to stop Sam from making his own choices and does not try to play mind games with him. Sure, he is very open about pursuing Sam and wanting him to come back to both him and Inanna, but I never really got the vibe that Aziz would have tried to manipulate Sam.
I think it’s also interesting how many of the gods seem to view S.Humans as not fully human because they view them as obedient dolls, whereas Aziz says that he sees Sam as not fully human, because to him Sam is something more than regular humans.
To me, it feels like someone like Persephone or Inanna probably could never separate their relationships from wanting to rule over others, whereas with Aziz it feels like he does have his own twisted way of loving, but it’s on different terms from mortals. He is drawn to Sam’s destructive potential and pushes him to fulfill that potential even if that is probably not the thing that would be best for Sam. He is even pretty flippant about the prospect of Sam dying, because reincarnation is a thing and a god has no trouble waiting for someone to be born again. From a human pov these things are a bit ??? but from a god’s pov they probably make total sense.
Anyway I don’t mean to excuse Aziz’s douchebag behavior or anything but I really felt like his feelings and vulnerability for Sam were genuine, especially contrasted with Persephone and Maya’s situation. And even though being a god explains a lot about his character it also doesn’t mean that he is exactly the same as some of the other gods.
Also, thinking about the “good” endings where the lesbians (Maya and Farah) say ‘fuck this shit, let the gods fight it out themselves and we can get outta here’, whereas the chaotic bisexuals (Sam and Aziz) decide that the only way to win is to kill the old gods and then proceed to become just as bad if not worse than them 😂
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Results of the Ultimate Supernatural Survey (Part 1 of 5): Favorite and Least Favorite Characters, Eras, Seasons, and Season One Episodes
Hello everyone! As you may remember, a while back I posted a survey to try to find out favorite characters, eras, seasons, and episodes of Supernatural. Thank you so much to everyone who responded! I read and appreciated all the comments that you guys left as well. I’ve now compiled all your responses into charts, and since tumblr only allows ten images per post I will have to make this 5 different parts. Let’s see how this all plays out and see what the results show us about favorites and least favorites on the show!
Characters
Pretty straightforward here. Sam wins pretty strongly, followed by Dean and then Cas. Team Free Will got a lion’s share of the votes, with character like Jack, Crowley, Rowena, Bobby, Claire, Charlie, and Kevin also getting several votes each. The write ins mostly consisted of the archangels, Jo, Benny, Chuck, and one for Death.
There can be several reasons why Sam won this so cleanly: firstly, the respondents. This survey found its way to Sam stans first, and thus they were able to disseminate them amongst themselves. So it’s possible that this portion of fandom were the most represented here. However, it is also possible that it found its way to destiel fandom, whose favorite character is evenly split between the two people in their fandoms. So this decreases the chances of each to come out on top amongst other stans of either character who don’t ship Destiel. At least, that’s a theory I’m suggesting, but there’s no way to know really.
Some of your comments about this topic include:
Sam Winchester is, and by far, the most beautiful character in modern television
Sam Winchester. Need I say more
Choosing between Dean and Cas is almost impossible but it’s Cas’s birthday today so that nudged him forward in my ranking
Cas, Dean, and Sam are awesome
Idk I just love Sam centric episodes
Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki did all the good job
Idc about the rest I’m sorry I’m here to defend Cas
for a lot of my least favourite episodes it’s not that i think they are bad, it’s just that sam isn’t in them enough
every episode focusing on sam or dean: good; every episode focusing on some too big overarching plot or other characters: bad
I enjoy the show most when it’s focused on Sam and Dean and their relationship, especially when Sam and Dean are in a good place/not fighting. Episodes where they barely interact with each other, or aren’t the focus of the episode, I tend not to like so much.
I prefer episodes that focus on Sam and Dean.
the angel was gay
#DeanWinchesterDeservedBetter
I don't like how the show treats POC. Billie (and so many others) deserved better!! Jack is pretty much the only part of the Dabb era that I consistently enjoyed.
Apparently all my favorite episodes are the funny ones or Sam suffering so idk what that says about me
Ending was garbage, Cas is everything
In any case, according to this survey Sam is the most popular character on Supernatural.
Next are the least favorite characters, which you can find here:
This chart may look a little bit different than the others, and this is because I made it myself as this question was a write in question. I figured that most people were likely to choose from team free will as a favorite character, but least favorite characters encompassed many many more options and so would require write ins. I was right, as you can see here.
Cas takes top spot here as the least favorite character on the show, followed by Lucifer, John, then Ketch. Metatron, Jack, Claire, Mary, and Dean also got several votes each. This result was surprising to me personally, so I sat thinking on it for a bit. The conclusion I’ve come to is the people who hate Cas are pretty united in their hatred of him, while the people who love him don’t have an equivalent character to choose to counteract it. So those votes were spread around, leading Cas to receive the most for least favorite character. At least that’s my theory on the matter.
Here are your comments:
Cas should’ve stayed dead in season 7
Angels nearly ruined the show
I fast forward most side character storylines that are not directly connected to Sam and Dean. Like Nick. Or most of Cass.
They should have never brought Lucifer back.
Any episode with Castiel in it is a waste of screen time 🤷♀️
They ruined Castiel's character pandering to a small but loud section of fans and I don't understand it as from what I saw on the show Dean and Cas both treated each other like shit. IDK…
I hate Jack so much I think he’s a terrible character and the writer’s poor attempt of saving the show by having an uwu cinnamon roll character the fans can cream their pants over as opposed to looking good and hard and the shitty plot lines and terrible script
The series finale stunk! Jack is a terrible character.
Eras
When it comes to era, the consensus is pretty clear: Kripke era reigns supreme. It’s followed by Carver, which is closely then followed by Gamble and then Dabb.
Generally I think Kripke era is really well liked for a consistent and tight storytelling style, and a clear sense of plot and direction. It also contains some pretty popular story arcs and introduced some popular characters (Sam, Dean, and Cas). Nostalgia also probably played a role in this.
Your comments on this are below:
I've watched and rewatched the first 7 seasons, and only watched in passing the rest of the show, not super invested. I loved the gritty Kripke era, before plot armor protected the brothers and we were legit worried about their safety.
I don't like very much after season 5 :(
Sorry but i literally haven't watched past s5, ive only watched a couple of eps here and there.
this was fun but also i do not like thinking abt late seasons spn.....show ended in season 5 imo <3!!
It’s hard to pick least favorite episodes for the earlier seasons cuz there weren’t any episodes that I actually disliked
the first 5 seasons ,,, it was so hard to pick just one favorite ;-;
This confirmed that s1-5 is my favorite, because I barely remembered any episode names from s6-15 except my favorites lol
episodes from S1-5 I have almost all favorites. episodes s3-14 I have almost all the unpopular. thank you for your work
It's hard to pick a favorite era because there's something I like about all of them. When the show focused on the brothers, it was at it's best no matter what season it was in.
Tough to pick a favorite era and season. Some had best/most stand alone episodes, others had best overall arc.
this was hard cuz i barely remember s 1 through 10
If you didn’t watch the first 3 season, your opinion of the show doesn’t matter
S1 to S5 peaked and are the best seasons arigato
I’ve only gotten through 5 seasons
Some of the early seasons I just had to pick an episode I don’t remember bc I don’t remember hating a single one
It's hard for me to pick a favorite "era" as my favorite seasons overall are 11, 5, 4 and 14.
Next is the least favorite era:
The consensus is a little less strong than favorite era, but it’s pretty conclusive nevertheless: Dabb era is the one that is most disliked. Next is Gamble, followed by Carver, and then Kripke which received very few votes.
Dabb era is generally disliked for various reasons from my experience. Some people dislike what he did with the characters and plot directions. Others dislike the ending he crafted for the show. Some more don’t like the way he approached the technical aspects of storytelling. In any case, this opinion is not exclusive to a single niche of fandom and was an unsurprising result.
Here are your comments on least favorites eras:
There are worse arcs and storylines than episodes. I can generally find SOMETHING I like in every episode. But some storylines make me feel violent towards the writers.
This was stressful. So many of my favorite episodes are not the episodes I consider to be the best episodes. Also I literally don’t remember most of s9-13 and didn’t watch the last two
fuck dabb
Hard choice for worst era between Carver and Dabb. I chose Carver for worst because I thought the drop in quality between season 7 and 8 was the highest.
Dabb and Gamble were great writers; showrunners, not so much.
Giving accurate favorites is so impossible with this show. What's my opinion on Gamble if I really enjoyed S6 but hated S7? Dabb had great writers and episodes and terrible overarching plots. Carver I probably enjoyed the most but the storytelling leaves much to be desired. What episodes do I love because of context vs the episodes themselves? Do I even remember what happened in the episodes I didn't like enough to choose a least favorite?
Fuck the finale. Any ep without cas becomes instantly better with cas. Bedlund my beloved. Buckleming can't do MOTW but some of their plot eps are good (taxi driver, the bad seed). Andrew dabb knew dean was bi and wanted to live and then he killed him and for that i demand compensation.
I have only watched seasons 1-8 and 15 so far, so I left 9-14 blank. I said Carver era is my least favourite because, while I personally have not seen the episodes, I have been in the fandom since 2013 and am aware of all the overarching plot-points and some of the smaller episode stories that happened since then. Fuck the mark of cain arc.
Fuck the Dabb era
This was so hard!! I could do tier-sorting, but I rarely have most/least faves. And it rarely sorts by season, and *definitely* not by Era -- for ex, I love most of 8 and 11, but 9 & 10 are probably my least-favorite. Gamble Era was super-forgettable on first viewing, and now I love it.
ngl my answers on the dabb era are hella inconclusive bc i don't remember them at all. no emotional connection or care for the dabb era except some s11 stuff.. lovely survey though!
Was tempted to list Kripke as least favorite era for a hot second ngl
god, i hate the carver era. thanks for the survey though!! this was fun!!
About "least favorite era": I liked season 4 and 5 (and parts of season 3), but season 1 and 2 weren't great and haven't aged too well
Seasons
The first five seasons dominated this list. The top answer was season 2, followed closely by season 5, then season 4, then season 1. Season 8 takes fifth spot, and season 3 is sixth.
This echoes the question above about eras, as it seems that the kripke era did the best with regards to favorite season. When it comes to season 2 specifically, people generally like the overall storyline, the premiere and the finale, and also it’s individual standalone eps. So this result doesn’t surprise me much. It also follows with the assumed demographic of the respondents, as most people chose Sam as their favorite character and season 2 tends to be popular with Sam stans. Season 5 is also popular for similar reasons, and Cas stans seem to be big fans of season 4. Season 8 is also unsurprising as the most popular mid to late season as it generally tended to be liked by fans from all niches.
Here are your comments for favorite season:
Seasons 4, 5, 10, 11, 12, and 13 were the hard to pick a fav ep for bc there were so many I liked. seasons 7, 14, and 15 were hard to pick a fav ep bc there were so few i liked.
season seven is great actually
S2, 4 and 11 have the best episodes.
S2 supremacy babey!!!
Least favorite seasons were a little more varied, but they tended to rely on mid to late seasons for their numbers. The least favorite season is season 15, followed by season 7, season 10, season 12, then season 14.
I don’t think this one is a huge surprise either. People disliked season 15 for several reasons, a particularly significant one being the finale. Even for those who like the finale, the generally poor second half of the season would bring the rest of it down considerably. Seasons 7 and 10 are generally considered to be poor storytelling, and seasons 12 and 14 have unpopular season arcs.
Commets for least favorite season:
late seasons episodes are bad and forgettable so my least fave for 9-15 might change bc there were so many eps i hated or just didn’t care enough abt to remember
I never watched the last 2.5 seasons (aside from the finale!!)
I hate all of season 9 and 10, so those favorite episodes are rather the least hated.
Struggled a lot to choose answers in seasons 9-14 because I barely remember half of them. I finished rewatching s14 two weeks ago and I still couldn't identify 3/4 of episodes, and the ones I could are... fine... but not noteworthy.
Ranking the later seasons is just a game of "what did i hate the least?” tbh
Season 15 was very bad but it had it's moments, S10 was irredeemably bad.
After about season 8 I really don’t remember individual episodes, just general feelings about the seasons (bad)
Season 11-15 are so forgettable
the late seasons blur together too much especially season 12 that was a hard question
Seasons 9 and 10 were the worst by a mile.
Season One Episodes
For season one, 1x12 Faith is a pretty solid favorite, followed by 1x01 Pilot, and then 1x15 The Benders. Also doing well were 1x22 Devil’s Trap, 1x05 Bloody Mary, 1x06 Skin, 1x09 Home, 1x11 Scarecrow, and 1x03 Dead in the Water.
This is an interesting mix of things with, in my mind, a very clear emotional center: Dean episodes. Faith is generally considered one of the strongest spn episodes of all time, but the rest of these also have Dean and his emotional journey as a main focus. The exceptions are probably Bloody Mary and Home, but Home especially still has some significant Dean moments. Of course, some of them are more equally distributed amongst the brothers (Pilot, Devil’s Trap, Scarecrow, a bit of The Benders) but I think it’s fair to say people enjoyed season 1 Dean a lot.
Your comments on favorite season 1 episodes below:
Bugs isn’t that bad
Bugs is an underrated episode
A clear winner here: 1x08 Bugs is the least popular episode of season 1. A distant second is 1x13 Route 666, with 1x07 Hook Man, 1x04 Phantom Traveller, and 1x03 Dead in the Water also pulling in some numbers.
This result is also not a surprise: this episode is infamous among both fans as well as production and cast for being difficult to film and awkward to experience. There are moments that are racist, and others that didn’t age very well. It’s positives seem to be completely overwhelmed by its negatives, especially with regard to its larger reputation in fandom. Route 666 has similar issues in terms of structure, setup, and elements that aged poorly (again, concerning racism). Cassie seems well liked enough as a character but does not seem to save the episode’s reputation. Hook Man and Phantom Traveller seem to be fairly forgettable, but Dead in the Water is a surprise, especially since it also did very well as one of the favorite season 1 episodes. This may be because people didn’t enjoy the overall plot or thought it also aged poorly.
Here are your comments for least favorite season 1 episodes:
Bugs is a close second for least favourite and most of season 14 as well. But this was a great poll! Loved it!!
If you have any questions about any details of these parts specifically let me know!
Next part is going to be episodes from season 2-season 5! Keep an eye out
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
#spn#supernatural#sam winchester#dean winchester#castiel#jack kline#spn survey#speaks#spn season 1#Eric kripke#sera gamble#jeremy carver#andrew dabb
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Plat!Yan!Chrollo x Autistic!Reader x Plat!Yan!PT - Soulmate AU Part 5
The final part is finally here! It did manage to delete itself a couple of times, but I was finally able to recover it! I really hope you can enjoy this end to the series!
As always, this idea was inspired by the lovely @kiame-sama! I have no traditional education in writing, so any and all advice is appreciated!
Requests will be opening shortly after this goes up, I'm just writing up some final rules!
Hope you enjoy reading!
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Night had fallen over the city by the time you were left alone.
You could feel your heart pounding through your body, scared beyond reason by the insane situation you found yourself in.
It seemed to have become a theme in the past few days, carefully setting forth a plan only to be thrown into some absolute catastrophe.
Over the course of the day, you had been dragged around to many random people, security workers and police officers all asking you questions and getting irate when you couldn't tell them everything. Some of them had tried to be kinder to you, speaking in lower tones and going slower, but they were all showed that they were upset when you refused certain details.
You couldn't tell them now, but all you wanted was to keep them safe, hoping that your soulmate would take mercy on them if you were found now. Marnie had been kind enough to keep you company through the entire day, though she wasn't the nicest either, and she had been the last one you saw when she dropped you off at this meagre hotel.
It was a large, cement high rise building on a dimly-lit street, with cheap furniture that probably didn't even get washed between visitors. When you first considered trying to sleep, you found that the blankets were made of scratchy, harsh material that made your whole body cringe away in disgust. That wasn't even to note that they were too light and thin to provide you with any comforting weight.
Anyone would think that you had no more tears to spare today, but as you finally sat on the worn-down chair, you began to choke up with stress. You had heard many counselors and friends say that anxiety could be much like droplets in a bucket, slowly building up in the mind until it could burst into tears, but you had never thought that you would feel stress as immense as this.
There was no need to move right now, you could just cry and choke on your breath, and there was almost something comforting about the all of the emotion of the moment.
That peace that you were trying to enjoy as you sobbed was quickly broken by a new voice in the room.
"(Y/N). I'm sorry."
With a sharp gasp, you looked up to find the intruder, only to see Jo leaned against the far wall of your room. They were looking at you, apologetically staring with sadness in their expression.
"I didn't - I didn't predict that there would be an issue with the airship. Now they've found you." They continue to speak with almost ominous tone, voicing their concern with a tired sigh.
They've found you? Your soulmate? Already? Who were these people, and why were they so obsessed with finding you?
As if you hadn't been overwhelmed enough, Jo had truly decided to drop a bombshell on you at this moment. In utter confusion, you looked towards your friend for any explanation.
Jo sighed again, looking away with despair, "They're minutes away as we speak. We can't run or fight." They paused again, contemplating as they look at you with a soft expression, "I - I don't know what to do."
-----
"Alright! This is where (Y/N)'s being held!" Shalnark's cheery voice rang out through the dark street, cutting through the tense atmosphere surrounding the other Troupe members.
"Would you like one of us to accompany you inside?" Pakunoda asked Chrollo, who stood closest to the building's doors.
The Troupe leader sighed as he turned towards his friend, his expression dropping at her question. He could understand the obsession that the rest of his subordinates had for his soulmate, but he knew that he had to be the first one to see his (Y/N) in person.
They had all seen your little friend sneak in through the window of your room, and Chrollo knew that he wanted the joy of getting rid of them himself. Pakunoda watched his expression carefully, and quickly stepped back, as if to give up on her own question, knowing better than to irritate her boss further.
The remaining members on the scene all took a step back, allowing Chrollo the freedom to enter the building, with a silent promise that no one would be leaving or entering while they stood guard.
-----
To both Chrollo and Jo, there was a deafening silence in this moment. Chrollo stood in the doorway of the small hotel room, not even glancing at his rival, as his eyes were immediately fixated on his soulmate, now finally sat before him.
To you, still sat between these two, there was not quite a silence, as you could hear the soft hum of old electrics hidden in the walls of this dingy place, almost comforting in the face of such intimidating auras.
"(Y/N)!" Chrollo's voice cut through the room, overflowing with joy as he stared at you. He had known that he would be happy in this moment when he could finally lay his own eyes on you, but he could have never predicted the way his heart would twist and flip with bliss in your mere presence.
That bliss was quickly cut off by Jo stepping in front of you, though their breath was shaky with fear at the prospect of fighting in your presence. The second that they had stepped out, Chrollo's expression darkened, as he immediately allowed his aura to flash out, quickly met by Jo's in an equal amount.
Not wanting to hesitate for a moment, Chrollo drew his knife and summoned his book, ready to kill at a moment's notice.
"I let you run once, I think you should be grateful for that, you little pest." His voice had a threatening tone, and though he wouldn't admit it, he almost hoped that Jo would run scared, so that he wouldn't have to kill them.
Against his hopes, your valiant guardian stood firm, though they were shaking just slightly. It was no secret that Chrollo would win this fight, Jo was heavily out of practice and stressed from days without sleep, and Chrollo would stop at nothing to reach his treasured soulmate.
"Wait." Your voice was hushed in the tense atmosphere.
-----
The Troupe had begun to worry when there was no sign of their boss for nearly 15 minutes, especially given that there hadn't been any sign of violence from within your room.
"Do you think that the boss got ambushed?" Shizuku wondered aloud, not expressing any real anxiety just yet.
"I do not think boss would get ambush that easy." Feitan was more suspicious of the silence, knowing that Chrollo had been very cautious when entering the hotel.
They continued to wait outside of the building, patiently watching every possible exit. Only a few members of the Troupe were here to see the new soulmate, with the rest searching the city for a decent place to keep you temporarily.
"Oh, look!"
Their heads quickly swiveled to the doorway, watching with a level of shock as Chrollo stepped out of the hotel, holding a new figure very close to his side. This new person was hunched, as if on the verge of pulling away from his touch, and was anxiously tugging at something in their hands.
Most of the members present recognized the sweet face of the sought after soulmate, and those who hadn't seen them before promptly caught on. However, that didn't clear up any confusion among the members.
"What happened to their friend? Did you kill them?" Shizuku was once again the first to break the silence, making you flinch at the bold and brash question.
Chrollo was swift in shutting down further questions, pulling you towards the getaway car, before suddenly telling everyone else to leave.
"Everything has been sorted, I'll tell you the details later. Where are we staying?" Chrollo was incredibly brief, a sharp tone to his voice that most Troupe members only heard after they almost botched a mission.
"There's a hotel in the city center that works for the mafia, we've booked you a couple of rooms!" Shalnark tried to walk over towards the car, wanting answers to this whole situation like the others. However, the quick spike in his boss' aura put him off immediately from that idea.
"Good. Send me the details, and I'll contact one of you tomorrow sometime." Once again, the Troupe leader sounded just slightly angered, a great change from his usual demeanor.
Chrollo quickly stepped into the car, breaking his anger for just a moment to glance at you with a soft smile.
"Don't worry about a thing, dear. Thank you so much for working with me here." He quickly began driving, shooting towards the new hotel and away from your friend's solemn gaze in the window.
"We've got our whole lives ahead of us now. Don't think about them too much."
-----
"Wait." Your voice was hushed in the tense atmosphere.
No amount of breathing exercises could have kept you calm in that moment, but you knew that there was no other option in this situation.
"I'll - I'll go with you. Chrollo." You surrendered yourself with fear, wanting to be careful with how you worded every part of this.
As both of their gazes fell on you, every nerve in your body felt as if it froze up, not wanting to speak another word, but knowing you had to.
"If I can prevent one of you from dying, I'd rather end this situation without a fight."
These two were supposed to be the closest people to your heart in the whole world. Jo, your oldest friend who had always protected you from what you couldn't understand in this world, and Chrollo, your destined soulmate, the one that the universe itself claimed would be the greatest friend that you could ever have.
You had understood since you were young that you wouldn't often be able to truly affect the world around you, always to slow to catch on or say something, but in this moment you could save someone you love, so you had to do something.
"(Y/N), no! Don't be stupid for me!" Jo was quick to interject, evidently trying to drag you back to your senses.
"I think it's their choice to make." Chrollo's deeper voice rang out through the room, reverberating through what felt like your whole body, a soft smirk appearing on his features.
"Look. I..." You trailed off, almost not ready to be so bold in what you were going to say next, "I want to keep both of you safe, and, well, from where I stand, the best way to do that is to end this... peacefully."
"Well then, come here." With his small smirk growing into a wide grin, Chrollo opened his arms just slightly, welcoming you in.
You felt almost to weak to stand, and as you did many times when you felt weak in the past, you looked to Jo.
"I won't stop you, I mean, I can't." They spoke after a brief pause, "But this is the wrong decision."
Although your heart was pained by their words, you knew that you had to take this next step on your own, for their own safety.
So, with shaky strides as Jo stepped to the side, you moved towards Chrollo, right into his waiting arms. As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you in tight to his chest, not letting you see the evil grin he sent Jo's way.
"Let's go, dear, everyone's waiting."
With all that had happened, you felt a lot less need to hold back your tears.
-----
Thanks for reading!
#hxh#hunter x hunter#yandere#yandere hxh#chrollo#yandere chrollo#phantom troupe#yandere phantom troupe#shizuku#pakunoda#shalnark#feitan#autistic reader#x reader#original character#hxh x reader#gender neutral reader
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𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟐𝟎.𝟐𝐤
𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭
A/N: Thank you so incredibly much to each one of you angels who voted for ST in the 1D Craft Awards 🥺 You continue to take my breath away with all your kindness, support and love 🐚🌊✨ ENJOYYY CHAPTER 7! x
Saturday, 25 July
The phone vibrated against the wooden table, jolting Y/N out of her focus. She blinked a few times, looking over at Fatima who turned the timer off and looked at Y/N with expectant eyes. Y/N shook her head and Fatima’s face visibly fell.
“What you mean?”
“I didn’t finish, did I?” Y/N groaned, running her hands over her face, hiding it from view for a few seconds before she sat back in her chair and looked at her laptop in front of her. The two were sitting at Olive’s Café on Island Square, seated on lime green chairs outside, the morning sun beating down on them as each of them tried to do work; Fatima looking through the curriculum she was going to teach this coming year, and Y/N doing her UCAT work. Fatima was a teacher for fourth graders, so she knew how to make things easy to understand, how to pull things apart and study properly. When Fatima had suggested that the two of them take a day together to just study, Y/N had jumped at the opportunity. Now, they had met to do exactly this a few days in a row and Y/N was really starting to feel the effects.
The thought of the UCAT exam coming closer and closer made her want to hurl. September 10th didn’t seem that far away anymore, something that absolutely terrified Y/N. Not only did she need to be out of St Ives by then, leaving her entire life and friends here behind, but she didn’t know where she’d even be. Would she even have enough money? Would she still be in Cornwall? Would she have crawled with her tail between her legs back to Winchester, asking for forgiveness for leaving them all behind?
Fatima pursed her lips, tapping her pen against the top of Y/N’s laptop. “Is it ‘cause you’re stressing too much?”
“Probs.”
“It’s hard not to when it’s important to you.”
Y/N sighed heavily, nodding her head in agreement. “This practice exam… well, it was hard.”
“They usually are, the practice exams,” Fatima explained. “Not necessarily so to scare you, more so that you’ll be aware that this will be hard, but the actual exam isn’t that bad. They never are.”
Y/N gave Fatima a little smile. “Taken the UCAT before?”
“Obvs, I’m the smartest bitch in all of the UK, if not Europe.”
Y/N laughed, quickly sighing again as she looked down at her laptop again. This was the first practice exam she had ever taken; Fatima had timed her to see if she’d make it in the estimated time it took to complete the UCAT, but Y/N hadn’t managed to. She supposed she still had a lot of time to study and prepare herself, but it still made her feel like all her studying had been for absolutely nothing. One failure, even if it didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things, always seemed like the most important thing in the world. How had the world not shifted? How was not everyone around her crying like she felt she should be doing?
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Y/N. I promise you’ll be fine.”
She nodded, knowing deep down that Fatima was right. The universe would balance itself out eventually, everything would be alright in the end even if her current world was crumbling right before her eyes. Maybe she was just being dramatic, maybe it wasn’t that deep and she had just not been focused enough, but Y/N felt like giving up now.
“When I feel like I’m failing at life,” Fatima started, sitting up a bit straighter in her seat. “I pick up a pillow and I just scream into it.”
Y/N blinked.
Fatima grinned.
“You just scream? How?”
“Just like you’d normally scream,” Fatima chuckled, demonstrating by pretending to pick up a pillow, burying her face in it, and silently screaming. “And after that, I feel better.”
“Like a proper scream?”
“Like you’re being chased down the street by a man in a clown costume holding an axe.”
Y/N smiled, shaking her head some. “I’ll do that when I get back to the Inn. Immediately.”
Fatima laughed just as someone came up beside them, asking the man sitting beside them if the chair opposite him was taken. When the tiny, short-haired blonde sat down beside them, she beamed from ear to ear. There was something about Ellie’s presence that just made everything better. She was so round, so small, so joyous all the time that it felt wrong to be in a sulky mood when she was around.
“I heard you’re studying,” Ellie said, perching her yellow sunglasses on the top of her head. “And by the looks of it-“ Ellie mimicked what Fatima had just done with the scream. “-It’s not going so well.”
“Y/N’s studying for that dentist test and she tried one of them practice exams, didn’t go so well.”
“Aww.” Ellie pouted. “I’ll buy you a cupcake to cheer you up. I always eat tons when I’m sad, especially sweets. Especially, especially cupcakes.”
“Thanks for the offer, but-“
“-Ima, you want a cupcake as well?” Ellie put her purse down on her chair as she got up, holding onto her card. “Or a new iced latte?”
Fatima brought a hand to her chin, pretending to think about it, making exaggerated thinking noises till Ellie blurted a “today!” that made Fatima chuckle and say, “Both please, babe.”
Ellie smiled. “Girls, you know what I think we should do after this?” She waited for a few seconds for either of them to say something, but when they didn’t Ellie went on. “Go to the beach! You can’t be sad when you’re at the beach! We’ll sunbathe, have a bit of a swim, and then go for a Cheeky V at the pub after.”
Fatima smiled a little, looking at Y/N to see if she’d be into that.
Though all Y/N wanted to do was go back to the Inn and scream into her pillow, she smiled up at Ellie. “Yeah, why not? Have a bit of a girls day.”
“Oh, my gosh, that’s exactly what it is as well,” Ellie gasped, grinning from ear to ear. “BRB, ladies, I’m getting us something sweet.” Ellie was off into Olive’s Café greeting an acquaintance loudly before she went over to talk to them. Fatima only shook her head some, turning back to the book in front of her.
“You’ll figure it out, Y/N.”
“The UCAT?” she asked, looking at her laptop again, feeling her stomach drop at the sight of the practice exam again.
“Everything,” Fatima answered with so much conviction that for a moment, Y/N almost believed her.
“Alright, crew,” Dax called as they pulled into the farm, its lush and green landscape opening up around them. “Just warning you now, I’m gonna absolutely crush you tonight. I go for the title of champion even if it means I’m gonna have to lose some friends.”
“Sad, that,” Fatima sighed. “Seeing as you’ve never won before, what makes you think you’re gonna win this year?”
Amir turned to look at them from where he sat shotgun. “Dax, you may try to win, but we all know the former singer and frontman of Astronaut Lions will go home champion tonight.”
“You are a terrible singer, Amir. Dunno why we let you even sing,” Jo groaned.
“’Cause I’ve got a silky-smooth, delicious, fantastic-“
“-Shut up, mate!” Ellie groaned, making Jo laugh and give her a high five.
Harry stopped his van, killing the engine before Dax got up and opened the door for everything in the backseats. Y/N made sure no one could see her bum as she descended from the car, keeping her hands by her buttocks to keep her pleated lilac skirt from showing too much of her skin. She put her purse on her shoulder, letting it hang over her white crop cardigan. Music could be heard from the large barn, some awful singing streamed out from the open entrance as people walked out, laughing and carrying empty plates. The farm was just as beautiful as Y/N remembered it, now smelling of delicious barbeque and sounding of hens, chatter, and the occasional failed high-note. The karaoke night seemed to be under full way, the courtyard brimming with people, the same went for the inside of the barn it seemed.
Y/N, Fatima and Ellie fell into step beside one another as they walked over to the gate, Harry opening it for the rest, gesturing for them to walk in before him. When Y/N reached him last he gave her a little smile, eyes falling to the gravel under his feet.
“Harry!” Grace yelled, running from the grill where Uncle Tim, Jessa, and lolo stood looking at the food. “Harry, Harry, Harry!”
“There she is!” Harry bent down as Grace came running, wrapping his arms around her and spinning her around, her feet dangling in the air.
“Alright, Mr Flores?” Dax asked as he walked up to the grill, putting a hand on lolo’s shoulder. Lolo grinned up at Dax, saying something that Y/N didn’t catch as Amir let out a loud groan hitting his chest with both hands.
“Let’s go! Gonna belt Material Girl in approximately five minutes, everyone come watch to have your life changed!” Amir ran into the barn, shouting something as he met a few familiar faces inside.
“After a few pints he’ll try Gentleman,” Fatima sighed. “Someone should cover Gracie’s ears then.”
“That SL song?” Jo asked. “Nah, he better do Wiley Flow, or else I’m gonna have to challenge him to a rap battle.”
“Amir’s got no chance of keeping up with any of Stormzy’s songs,” Ellie pointed out matter-of-factly, scrunching up her nose. “Anyway,” Ellie stopped Jo before they started talking. “We’re doing Sugababes, yeah? About You Now?”
“Obvs!” Fatima exclaimed, offended that Ellie might’ve thought otherwise. “And Y/N’s joining us.”
“Oh!” Y/N raised her eyebrows, chuckling a little as Fatima wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard a Sugababes song.”
“They’re immense, aren’t they?” Ellie grinned. “I used to listen to Push The Button on repeat when I was like 12.”
“Was more of a Too Lost in You type of girl,” Y/N said, making Fatima gasp and Ellie bring a hand up to her chest.
“We’re doing Too Lost in You!” Ellie clapped her hands frantically. “Oh, my life! Legendary!”
“Of course,” Fatima smiled. “You wanna sing, yeah?”
“Let me down three ciders and I’ll be good to go.”
Jo laughed, gesturing for Y/N to follow them over to the main house where the four of them helped themselves to something to drink. Y/N glanced out of the kitchen window at the Styles-Flores family where they stood by the grill, sipping her cider. Grace sat on Harry’s shoulders, hands in his hair as she giggled at something. Harry had both his hands wrapped around his little sister’s ankles, holding her in place. Jessa was grinning at the two while Uncle Tim stood talking by the grill, asking lolo if what he was doing was alright, not having grilled this specific type of Filipino dish before. Dax stood chatting to one of Harry’s aunts, if it was Rachel or Abby, Y/N could not for the life of herself remember, but she noticed Harry’s aunt’s kids running around the grill, shouting at one another and laughing.
Y/N had never experienced a dynamic like this before. This family was so welcome, so big, so loving, and it made her happy to just watch them and know that, for a split second in time, she had been part of it. Maybe not a real part of it because this was not her family after all, but she had been touched by their warmth and been their guest for a time being. She would forever be grateful for that. Love tasted like Jessa’s lumpia, radiated like lolo’s approving smile, smelled like Grace’s hair after she had been out plucking wildflowers, and felt like Harry’s arms wrapped around her. Nothing would ever be quite like this.
“Let’s go to the barn,” Ellie said.
“I’ll just go say hi to Jessa,” Y/N announced, giving them all a smile before she walked outside and over to the grill where everyone was standing.
“Y/N!” Jessa exclaimed, opening her arms for her. Y/N grinned, walking over and doing the mano po on both Jessa and lolo. “How have you been? Don’t feel like I’ve seen you in ages.” Jessa swatted Harry’s arm, making him flinch away. “He’s keeping you all to himself, isn’t he?”
“I’ve been busy, nanay!” Harry said, furrowing his brows at his step-mum.
“Karaoke is huge in the Philippines,” Jessa explained, as she linked her arm with Y/N’s bringing her over to the grill where lolo and Tim were standing. “It is an understatement to say that Filipinos love karaoke, I daresay. Almost every Filipino home has a karaoke machine, Harry’s dad bought ours when we first moved here, but we put it out in the barn ‘cause we don’t really use it unless there’s a karaoke night, like tonight.”
“How nice, this is a tradition then? Each summer?”
“Yeah, we have a karaoke barbeque night every summer, everyone’s invited!” Jessa beamed. “It’s a fantastic way to just relax, forget about everything for a little while, belt your heart out to some of your favourite songs.”
Y/N smiled, eyes landing on the grill.
“Alright, Y/N?” Tim asked, smiling at her. “We made some tempeh for you, some Filipino barbeque sauce on it that’s out of this world. Not surprised, though, when Jessa made it.”
“Oh!” Jessa waved her hand as if to dismiss the compliment, but squeezed his shoulder. “I’m excited to see what you think. It was either tempeh or baos, thought you might like this a bit more.”
Y/N took a plate and a fork and watched as Tim put some food on her plate, thanking him once it was done. She picked up the tempeh and blew on it before she took a bite out of it, chewing it thoroughly and smiling at Jessa after swallowing.
“That’s brilliant.”
“Ahh! You think?” Jessa grinned, looking from Tim and back to Y/N, then at lolo. “Amá, Y/N liked the tempeh we made.”
Lolo smiled at Y/N and looked at her plate, nodding slowly. “You have to come and make some food with us once. You are part of the family now; we can show you our secret recipes.”
Y/N chuckled some before swallowing her bite of tempeh. “Wouldn’t say I’m part of the family, but thank you-“
“-Nonsense!” Jessa exclaimed, shaking her head furiously. “You are here, you’re making Harry happy, and since you’ve come to St Ives, the world’s been a brighter place. You’re where you need to be.”
For some reason, Y/N couldn’t quite believe what Jessa was saying. She knew it was coming from a good place, that she meant that it was nice to have Y/N there, but her family was in Winchester, she couldn’t possibly come into a new one and then ruin that one as well. This family she was visiting in St Ives would do just fine without her when she left in August. No one would miss her once she had been gone for a week, that was just a fact. Y/N was so bloody lost, she did not know what to do once her and Harry “broke up”, but she knew she would not disappoint and make any of the people around her sad, she refused.
Instead, Y/N smiled as she took the last bite of the tempeh, chewing and swallowing before she said. “Harry said something about an end of summer party.”
“Yes! I wanted to talk to you about that! Because, on the topic of food,” Jessa smiled back. “If you could give me some of your favourite vegetarian dishes, I’d love to make them for you! It would be amazing for many others to try something new as well.”
“I’d be more than happy to help out,” Y/N said, looking over at Grace as she sat on Dax’s back, the blonde man running around in circles as Harry ran after them, growling and acting like a disformed monster of sorts. She smiled a little at the sight, he looked absolutely ridiculous. How was he still cute? “I’ll bring the veggie food and I’ll show you how to make those, and then you show me how to make some Filipino dishes as well.”
Jessa placed a hand over her heart, beaming at Y/N. “You are an absolute treasure, me lover.”
Y/N smiled, eating some more of the tempeh. “When should I come and help out?”
“Are you free Tuesday?”
“Yeah, I don’t have any plans as of now.”
“Great! Harry will drive you here then. It’ll just be me, amá, Gracie, and Harry, and now you.” Jessa put her hand on Y/N’s arm, squeezing her lovingly before she turned to answer a question Tim asked her about the food he was currently grilling.
Y/N looked in the direction of Harry, Dax and Grace again, now walking towards the house. Jessa must have noticed Y/N staring in their direction because she linked her arm through Y/N’s and the two walked in the direction of the house as well.
“There’s more food inside,” she explained, grinning from ear to ear. “We do grill a lot, but Tim’s not really the best with the grill and he always insists on grilling at these gatherings, I don’t really have the heart to tell him no.” Jessa led Y/N into the dining room where she remembered all the food had been served at Grace’s birthday party. Again, casserole upon casserole stood spread over the dining table, covering it completely. Most of the dishes were all dug into, some almost completely wiped from the casseroles.
“Here,” Jessa said as she led Y/N over to the table. “I made your lumpia, there’s a few other vegetarian options as well.”
The fact that Jessa thought of this, thought of Y/N’s preference and made life a little easier for her, was so greatly appreciated that it nearly brought tears to Y/N’s eyes.
“This is biko,” Jessa explained, pointing to a casserole filled with banana leaves, a brown dish resting in it. “It’s a rice cake made from malagkit, or sticky rice, coconut milk, and brown sugar. Like other rice cakes, it is referred to as kakanin, taken from the word kanin which means rice, and is often eaten as a dessert or meryenda, meaning a mid-afternoon snack.”
“It looks lovely,” Y/N said, reaching for the spoon to get herself a slice before it was all eaten up. “Know we’re probably not set for dessert just yet, but I might just need some.”
Jessa laughed, smiling as Y/N took a bite of the biko. “What do you reckon, darling?”
“Heavenly, Jessa.”
Jessa clapped her hands together in delight, grinning from ear to ear as Y/N went in for another bite. “You have to try the buko pie next.”
“Which one’s that?”
Jessa pointed to a golden pie, not waiting for any sort of reply before cutting Y/N a small piece, placing it on Y/N’s plate. “It’s a sweet and rich pie made from young coconut meat.”
“Oh?”
“Buko pies are mostly sold in southern parts of Luzon in the Philippines. There’s this specific store down there called Collette’s that serves the best buko pie. I will never be able to replicate it, but I will try my hardest, every time I make a buko pie,” Jessa smiled. “We need to take you to Luzon, Y/N, you’d love it. Once we’ve saved up and all that.”
“This is the best buko pie I’ve ever tasted at least,” Y/N said, and Jessa laughed again looking out through the window only to sigh deeply.
“I need to go out there, it seems Tim is struggling and amá cannot be asked to help him out.” Jessa sprinted out, shouting something at Tim that Y/N didn’t catch but by the look on all the relatives standing around and Tim’s face, it couldn’t have been good. Y/N smiled a little, eating the rest of her pie before she realised she heard music. This wasn’t the type streaming out from the barn, this was coming from inside the house. And it was coming from the piano.
Y/N walked into the kitchen and placed her now empty plate on the kitchen counter before walking over to the dining room again, walking over to the doorway leading into the living room. With Grace on his lap, Harry was sitting by the piano, playing a tune Y/N had never heard before. It was both hopeful and very sad, unlike anything Y/N had ever heard before. There was no note sheet in front of him as he played, his eyes were only on the keys in front of him. Grace sometimes leaned forward and pressed a key she wasn’t supposed to, looking up at Harry while she giggled before leaning into him again, listening to the rest of the song.
“Can you play that other one?” Grace asked as Harry continued to play.
“What other one? There are quite a few, Gracie.”
“She means the one about me,” Dax grinned, standing beside the piano with his arms crossed, a massive grin on his face. “Go on, Hazza. Play that one inspired by Sexy Back.”
“Watch your mouth,” Harry hissed through gritted teeth, making his best friend laugh.
“Noooo!” Grace laughed. “The one you wrote after you, me and Y/N went to St Austell. The one about that trip.”
“Ahh, haven’t heard that one before,” Dax said, walking over to sit on the sofa beside the piano, watching the two siblings as they settled in again. Grace pressed one of the keys, looking up at Harry who smiled down at her and shook his head. He took her hand, bringing her finger over to the correct starting note, pressing it down for a long while so she’d get the feel of it. Then, he brought her to the next one, slowly playing the melody out before Grace motioned for Harry to take over for her.
What Harry produced just pressing a couple of keys at just the right moment was so breath-taking that Y/N almost felt dizzy. There was something to this melody that words weren’t ready to properly convey yet, something that was too powerful for a simple human brain to comprehend. Y/N understood why Harry wrote songs now. This melody captured that day perfectly. Her heart knew that melody. It had played that melody itself that day; it had been there with Harry while he came up with it as well.
She was thrown back to walking along St Austell, spending the day in the sunshine with two people that she had come to care so incredibly much for. Thrown back to standing side by side with Harry, talking about music, walking along the market, eating ice cream, laughing till her sides hurt. A lump suddenly appeared in her throat.
“What the fuc-“
“-Dax,” Harry said, stopping immediately. “No.”
“I’ve heard that word before, Harry,” Grace said.
“What, when?!”
“Harry, that was insane,” Dax said, grinning as he stood up from the sofa again. Before Y/N could be noticed, she stepped away from the doorway and walked outside again, feeling every inch of her chest hurting.
“Y/N!” Jo called. “Come in here!” They stood by the grill with a plate filled with food, waving her over so the two of them could walk in together.
She grinned over at Jo as she made her way over, them walking in the direction of the barn together. She waved at people she recognised – Florence from Bessie’s knitting club and Dax’s mum, was one of them. The inside of the barn was decorated with plenty of fairylights, giving the old interior a yellowish and homely glow resembling candlelight. There were small tables and chairs all around so people could sit down to eat, drink, and chat, while a huge screen was positioned by the furthest wall, two microphones attached to what looked to be a high quality karaoke machine of sorts. Jo showed the way and they sat down with the rest, it didn’t take long for Harry, Dax, and Grace to join them. Y/N got out of her chair and tapped Grace on the shoulder.
“Haven’t gotten a hug yet,” Y/N said and Grace jumped off the ground, throwing her arms around Y/N’s neck. She laughed, hugging the little girl to her for a few heavenly seconds before she stepped away. “You look nice today.”
“Nanay told me not to spill anything on it,” Grace said as she gestured at her pink, sparkly dress. “I told her I can’t promise that.”
Y/N chuckled. “You’re doing well so far, I’d say.”
“Thank you!” Grace beamed. “Anyway, Harry’s drinking that drink that makes his breath smell awful.”
“Gracie,” Harry warned from where he now sat beside Ellie, but the little girl did not appear to want to hear what he had to say.
“How can you kiss someone with bad breath, Y/N?” Grace asked and Y/N’s heart dropped at little as she thought about kissing Harry again. How they weren’t going to kiss again. How she wanted to kiss him, but not because they were fake dating. It took everything in Y/N not to look in Harry’s direction, because, judging by his little utterance of his sister’s name before, she knew he must’ve heard this as well.
“You don’t care if they’ve got bad breath if you really want to kiss them,” Y/N answered, giving Grace a smile.
Grace grimaced. “I would never kiss someone if their breath stank.”
“Don’t talk about kissing, you’re seven,” Harry said, sipping his pint.
Y/N raised her eyebrows at Grace and Grace did the same back. At Grace’s instructions, Y/N sat down in her seat so Grace could sit in her lap. Grace watched the people singing intently, sometimes singing along and nodding her head along to the music like she couldn’t help it. It was impossible not to smile at the sight of it, Y/N simply cared for this little creature so much it was hard for her to fully comprehend it. Grace, though young and Harry’s little sister, was the closest thing Y/N had ever come to a sister. They didn’t have a deep connection through thoughtful conversation, but they just understood and went along. There was an emotional and meaningful connection that, though not talked about, had appeared because they enjoyed and appreciated each other’s company.
Grace ran over to a nearby table to get herself some water, leaving Y/N sitting in the chair alone, her lap feeling oddly cold. On the other side of the table, Amir was talking loudly over the karaoke battle that had just begun.
“When I go back up to London for work in two weeks’ time, I feel like I’m just gonna make a right fool of myself, yeah? Normally takes a week for me to turn my weird off after I’ve been home.”
“Gonna be weird when you and Jo are off again,” Ellie said. “Why do you two have to work in London? Why can’t you just stay in St Ives?”
“Bit liberating to leave this place for another one every once in a while, not gonna lie,” Jo admitted, sipping their beer.
“Makes you realise all you’ve missed,” Fatima nodded. “Was the same when I came home for uni breaks, now I’m just really happy I ended up here. Might be underpaid as a teacher, but-“ Fatima shrugged her shoulders. “-I love living and working here, it’s home, after all.”
Y/N hated that she had never experienced that feeling; of coming back to something you had missed. Of coming home.
“Bum that,” Dax said. “I want my mates home at all times! I don’t care you’ve got a job!”
Y/N chuckled, the conversation around them commencing as she looked down at the table, picking at a stain on the table. Grace came back just then, but she didn’t get to sit down before Dax said her name.
“Wanna go up and sing your heart out?”
Grace squealed and took Harry’s hand. Harry downed the rest of his beer and stood up, walking with Grace, Dax, and Amir up to the karaoke machine. Y/N rested her chin in her hand, smiling as she watched the four of them discuss what song to do. It had to be an easy one that Grace already knew, it might be hard to find the correct one. They took some time to decide, but suddenly, the drums to a song Y/N recognised from Harry’s favourite’s playlist started playing. She remembered how Grace really loved that playlist.
“Uptown girl,” Grace sang into the microphone as she perched on Harry’s hip, sharing microphone’s with him. “She’s been living in her uptown world.”
Dax and Amir joined in as well, singing along with Grace who was still unsure of the lyrics but tried to read them as best she could on the screen in front of them. Harry moved them to the music, Dax throwing an arm around Amir’s shoulders as they started singing their hearts out. It was simply impossible not to smile as you watched the four of them, dancing and singing along to Billy Joel’s song.
“God,” Fatima sighed as she scooched her chair closer to Y/N’s. “I wish someone looked at me the way Harry looks at you.”
Y/N halted a little at Fatima’s words, looking in her direction as Amir, Dax, and Grace sang “And now she’s looking for her downtown man, that’s what I am”.
“Pardon?”
Fatima grinned. “Oh, you know-“ She placed her chin in her head, looking off into the distance with exaggerated doe eyes, a dreamy look on her face. For a split second, Y/N’s heart seemed to lurch out of her chest. Harry… Harry looked at her like that? He glanced at her? Surely, Fatima was not being serious and she had simply caught Harry smiling at Grace when she sat in Y/N’s lap.
Y/N laughed. “You’re taking the mick, that’s not how he looks at me.”
“Wouldn’t know, would you? Always happens when you’re not looking.”
“Harry,” Grace said, not even bothering to hold the microphone away as she spoke to him in the middle of the song. “You need to sing, the song’s for Y/N, remember?”
Y/N glanced beyond Fatima and at the group in front of the screen, a rush of adrenaline streaming through her veins. Laughter could be heard throughout the room at Grace’s words, many turning in Y/N’s direction to look at her, all with smiles and curious looks on their faces. At once, Y/N’s face seemed to be too hot for its own good. She bit her bottom lip, continued to watch the gang, ignoring the heat in her cheeks.
Harry seemed to take a deep breath before he started singing with Amir and Dax, both of them doing a miserable job of doing the song any sort of justice. Neither were impressive singers, but Y/N knew Harry was.
“Uptown girl, you know I can’t afford to buy her pearls,” Harry sang, voice so effortlessly breath-taking that Y/N felt like she was doing a pretty good job of imitating the dreamy look Fatima had demonstrated earlier. “But maybe someday when my ship comes in, she’ll understand what kind of guy I’ve been, and then I’ll win.”
Grace joined in then, wrapping her arm around Harry’s shoulder and leaning her head against his. They all continued to sing along to the song, Y/N not paying any sort of attention to the conversation between Fatima, Ellie, and Jo. She watched as the four of them cheered once they were done singing, bowing to the small applause they got before returning to the table.
“I need to go tell nanay!” Grace shouted, running off outside to Jessa and the rest of the family.
Y/N smiled at Harry as he came back, getting a tight-lipped smile back before he picked up his, Dax’s, Amir’s and Jo’s empty beer cans, walking over to get them all a new round. Grace came back with Halo Halo, placing herself on Y/N’s lap as the two ate, talking non-stop. The little one disappeared after a little while, Y/N suspected it was because it was getting rather late. As the night went on, Y/N realised that the only two that would be able to stand by the end of the night were her and Fatima. The others got very drunk, talking loudly about everything insignificant and nothing they would remember in the morning. Harry kept looking at the watch on his wrist, clearly making sure that they got back to his at a good hour so he could report at 3am. When Harry’s speech got a bit more slurred and his eyes a wee hooded, Y/N started looking out for him. Using the time on her phone, she kept an eye out, making sure that Harry returned to his cottage before then so he could sleep off most of his intoxication.
Talking amongst themselves as the rest chatted loudly, Fatima and Y/N agreed that Fatima would be the one to drive everyone home. It would be easier to drop Harry off last as this was his van, and Fatima didn’t live too far away from the lighthouse, the two then decided Y/N would sleep at her place that night, it would be nice just being the two of them. She loved how closed she was getting to Fatima and Ellie. There hadn’t really been a time before when she had made proper good friends, but everyone around that table were currently climbing very fast and very high up on her list of favourite people in the entire world. She genuinely appreciated Fatima’s help with the UCAT reading earlier that week, it had really helped her along, even though the result hadn’t been the best. That was Y/N’s fault though, not Fatima’s teaching skills.
At one point, Dax got all of them up from the table, bringing them over to the screen, telling them over and over again how they needed to do this. Y/N was unsure if they really did, but she didn’t bother telling a very drunk Dax that as he handed out microphones, telling people to share. Y/N scooted up next to Ellie, watching Harry as he put an arm around Jo’s shoulder, patting them as the two of them along with Amir watched Dax search for the song.
“We need to know what song we’re gonna embarrass ourselves to,” Amir exclaimed as Dax was taking his time typing.
“I’m not about to do a Union J song, mate,” Ellie said.
“Alright, I liked one of their songs ten years ago, Ellie!” Dax looked over his shoulder at her, a deep furrow to his brow. “Carry You is a belter!”
“It’s not.”
“Jo, back me up here,” Dax said, turning back to write something into the laptop standing there.
“Dax… don’t make us sing Union J or The Wanted or JLS or anything like that, we don’t need that,” Jo sighed.
“The fact you’re embarrassed about our boyband period in 2013 hurts.” Dax glared at Jo.
“Right, then, what’s the song we’re singing?” Harry shot in, nodding at the laptop again. “We’re just standing here lookin’ stupid now.”
“Looking stupid?” Amir tutted, shaking his head. “Couldn’t be me, mate. Model material, this is. Look like I’m straight off the runway.” He gestured at his body and Fatima feigned throwing up, making the five drunks howl with laughter.
“Ultraviolet, Stiff Dylans.”
Y/N gasped at Dax’s words, bringing her hand up to her chest as the others around just looked at her, afraid something had happened. She grinned at Dax. “That used to be my favourite song!”
This seemed to be shocking news to absolutely everyone.
“What?” Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging was revolutionary.”
“Too right,” Harry said. “But… were you…” He blinked a few times. “Were you even allowed to watch it? Not a film I reckon would’ve been allowed in your house.”
Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say, I used to be a rebel.”
“Yes, Y/N!” Dax grinned, giving Y/N a high five. “Now, bum God Save the Queen, this is Britain’s national anthem! Someone record this, history in the making!”
The familiar music started up and Y/N was taken back to a time when she had a massive crush on Aaron Taylor-Johnson, hiding her obsession with this film from her parents, and listening to this song on repeat. The whole gang started singing, Amir doing a horrible job of keeping up with everyone else, but it was fun to watch him get annoyed with himself for not getting it right. Involuntarily, Y/N’s eyes fell on Harry. He was singing his heart out, sounding better than everyone else, but in his drunken state he seemed to have forgotten some of the lyrics. However, everyone knew the song and it felt very good to be with people she adored, singing a song all of them knew and loved, together. She felt part of something bigger than herself in that moment.
Maybe that was why she did it. Because, looking back, Y/N did not quite know what came over her in that moment, but she loved herself for it. As the song started nearing the end, Y/N took the microphone out of Ellie’s hands and started singing at the top of her lungs, taking absolutely everyone by surprise but she did not care. Ellie started laughing and the rest joined in again towards the end, matching Y/N’s volume.
As she turned around after the song, grinning from ear to ear as she glanced at her friends, basking in their applause and cheers, she caught Harry’s eye. That crooked smile of his was on his face along with a look she wasn’t sure she had ever really seen before, maybe only once. Amusement tangled up with adoration, forming a sort of emotion that had yet to be given a word; someone on the cusp of surrendering themselves completely to the overpowering concept of love, yet still holding back in fear of the unrequited. As soon as their eyes met, Harry looked away, scratching at the back of his neck as he walked back over to their table, everyone following suit.
The time came for them all to leave and Harry gave Y/N the car keys, claiming that he was not fit to drive, though she had not needed him to tell her that. Y/N gave them over to Fatima and all of them made their way over to the van. The night sky was black, brimming with glinting stars and the moon hanging big and yellow over Cornwall, wishing them all a good night. Y/N walked over to Jessa and thanked her for her hospitality, asking her where lolo and Grace were. She explained they’d gone to bed a long time ago, lolo had probably read Grace a bedtime story and fallen asleep himself, he sometimes did that when he stayed the night at the farm.
Y/N ran over to the van, opening the passenger door to see Amir sitting there, a bag in front of him in case he should throw up on the way home. He gave Y/N a peace sign before she closed the door and opened the door into the backseats.
“There you are,” Jo said through a yawn. “Let’s go, Ima.”
“Y/N!” Harry called from further back in the van, making Dax groan and mumble a “shut up, mate” that Harry did not hear. “Y/N! My flower! Come back here, I saved us the whole back backseat!”
Y/N glanced in Fatima’s direction, only to see her friend raise her eyebrows at her, nodding her head. “He made a big fuss.”
“Y/N, come here, I want to tell you something,” Harry said, words slurring a bit. Y/N stepped into the van properly, closing the door behind her before she walked back to Harry, sitting down in the seat right beside him by the window, even though there were three seats in the far back of the car. The car jolted a little as Fatima started driving, steering the car up the gravel round and towards the centre of St Ives.
“What’d you wanna say?” Y/N asked Harry in a hushed voice, hoping he’d mimic her.
“I… I wanted to say something that’s been on my mind for a while now,” he said, whispering back to her, his face mere centimetres from her own. She felt hot all over, adoring their close proximity but also remembering the rule they had made some days ago. As they drove by the white fluorescent streetlights, Harry’s face lit up for a few seconds, making him appear almost angelic. “I’ve been thinking about it.”
“Okay.”
“It’s got to do with you.”
“Figured as much.”
Harry giggled, looking down at his hands where they rested between his legs, sliding his thumb along his other. “You’re very smart.”
“Thank you.”
“Smartest person I know.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. “I doubt that.”
He pursed his lips as he thought. “You do that a lot.”
“What?”
“Doubt yourself.” He stared back at her, moving a little closer so their sides were flush against one another. “I think you’re great. I’ve never doubted you.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds, neither knowing what to say as the world around them seemed to disappear completely. For a single moment, it looked like he was going to tilt his head to the side, almost as if he were getting ready to study her like he had done at Porthgwidden. He stopped himself, staring back at his hands.
“I don’t have any cucumber left,” Harry mumbled, this made Y/N giggle a little. “This ain’t gonna end well for me tonight if I don’t get that cucumber.”
Y/N giggled some more, bringing her hand to her mouth as Harry looked at her again, his crooked smile appearing on his face, dimple showing.
“What?”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re talking about a cucumber when you say it like that,” she said.
“What then?”
“Well… what’s kind of shaped like a cucumber?”
Harry furrowed his brows, thinking hard.
“You have it, I don’t.”
“A cock?” Harry mouthed, looking absolutely gobsmacked that Y/N would suggest such a thing, which made Y/N laugh again.
“Yeah, dildo or summat.”
“Y/N Bernadette Angelica McKay,” Harry gasped, shaking his head as his eyes fell on the road through the window beyond Y/N. “Saucy git.”
“You started it.”
“Well, you made it sexual.” Harry crossed his arms, pretending to roll his eyes to make Y/N laugh, which worked effortlessly. “Wouldn’t mind a dildo, not gonna lie.”
“Harry!”
“What?! It’s the truth!”
Y/N laughed again, watching as Ellie and Jo jumped out of the car once Fatima stopped it, waving at everyone before they started walking in the same direction. Fatima started the car over again just as Jo stumbled and almost face planted, making everyone in the van – including the two outside – crack up. Y/N settled into her own seat, looking down at her thighs as they drove off again, giggling a little to herself as she replayed Jo’s near-death experience in her head.
“I…” Harry started, and when she glanced up at him, he was smiling that very small smile back at her. It was barely there, making his dimples show ever so slightly, and it made every single butterfly in Y/N’s tummy flutter their wings madly. “I love the sound of your laughter.”
Y/N felt her heart skip a beat.
“It makes me happy.”
She knew that if she continued to look at Harry and he continued to look at her, she would just start feeling more for him. Though she knew it was inevitable, she would fall in love with him sooner or later, she wanted to slow the process out so that she didn’t end up spending too much time with him while she loved him.
“When you said you watched Angus, Thongs earlier, it kinda shocked me a bit,” Harry admitted, talking as if it was all part of his stream of consciousness. “Not that I think you’re innocent or anything like that, you don’t seem innocent- and when I say it like that it sounds weird.”
Y/N bit her lips together, trying not to laugh.
“From what I’ve heard your parents were very strict so…” Harry shrugged his shoulder, looking away from her again. He tilted his head a little to the side as he caught eye of Amir in the front. “Amir! Oi! If you throw up in my van I’m gonna murder you!”
“Shut up, Haz,” Dax groaned. “Y/N, why the fuck is your boyfriend so loud when he’s plastered? Bloody hell.”
“I’m not loud, I’m passionate.”
“About Amir not throwing up in your car?” Dax rolled his eyes. “Brilliant.”
Fatima stopped the car, shouting at Dax to get out and help Amir home. Dax slowly walked around the car and took Amir’s arm over their shoulder, the two walking off as Amir started singing a song that had been sung right before they left the farm. Fatima sat there and watched the two walk up the street, making sure they got inside Amir’s place where Dax would kip before she started driving towards the lighthouse.
The three were quiet for the last part of the drive, Harry seemingly about to doze off all of a sudden, humming Ultraviolet under his breath as they started driving up the gravel path to the lighthouse. Y/N just barely saw the light of the lighthouse before it disappeared, but did not pay any more notice to it as Harry leaned over her, glancing out the window as if to see his house. Once Fatima stopped the car, Harry reached for the seat buckle, fumbling for it in the dark before he finally got free.
“Help me inside?” he asked Y/N, making her lose her words a bit at first in surprise, but she quickly loosened her own seatbelt as Fatima turned around, about to jump out of the van as well.
“Just gonna help him get to bed, it’ll take five minutes,” Y/N told Fatima as Harry slid the backdoor open, getting out of the car.
“Ten if can force a cuddle out of her,” Harry said, chuckling a little to himself as he watched Y/N get out of the car and close the door behind her. She only raised her eyebrows at him, holding her hand out for his keys, which he gave her eagerly. She wanted nothing more than to cuddle him for ten minutes, she’d take cuddles for one minute if that’s all she got, but she knew he was only saying it in front of Fatima to make her believe them even more. He took his time walking to the front door, as if to drag the time out, while Y/N walked on inside, turning the lights on for him. It took some time for him to get his shoes off and while he did that, Y/N looked through his fridge, not seeing any cucumbers but a few tomatoes could maybe do as post-party food.
Harry put his rucksack with his camera down by the sofa, strolling over to the bathroom to do whatever he needed to do. Y/N put the tomato on the counter, making Harry a glass of water like he had made her last time and putting that along with the tomato on the dining table. Once he walked out of the bathroom, he rubbed at his eyes, giving Y/N a smile as their eyes met.
“Are you staying?”
“No, I… I’m going home with Fatima.”
Harry nodded. “You two…?”
Y/N chuckled some, feeling her cheeks get a little hot as she shook her head. “No, we’re friends. I’m kipping at hers.”
“Okay, good.” Harry nodded, biting the corner of his upper lip as he said, “I don’t like it when you’re alone.”
“Why not?”
“Because of what you said about your dad, that he was a bad man and all that.”
Y/N felt a sort of panic rise in her chest and she looked out the still open door, seeing Fatima sit by the stone fence circling the lighthouse, watching its lights. Harry yawned, lying down in his bed and glancing over at Y/N, his eyes trailing down her body. She felt herself blushing, both because Harry was staring at her like that and she did not want to talk about her dad, especially not while Harry was drunk.
“Can you stay?” His voice was soft, speaking with a meaning that went beyond the cottage and tonight.
“I’m going with Fatima.”
“I want you to stay, flower.”
She wanted to lay down next to him, slide her hand through his hair and watch as he closed his eyes, smiling ever so slightly and humming in total and utter contentment. Fall asleep next to him, feel his breath on her skin again, know that he was there to protect her if anything were to happen. She suddenly remembered how safe she had felt waking up here, how she had never slept as good as she did that single night she spent at Harry’s cottage. Never again would she feel like that, Y/N realised. Once she left St Ives in a couple of weeks, all the safeness and the sense of belonging would be ripped away from her. It would surely be like someone ripping off her arm.
Harry sat up in his bed as if he sensed a shift in the air around them, looking up at Y/N with slight worry but also a sort of desperation, silently asking her to please consider his offer. God, in that very second, it was very hard to resist him. Because when he looked at her like that, so attentive, so devoted to everything she did, she simply wanted to do nothing but lay down next to him and do what he asked. But she couldn’t, and with each passing second where they just looked at one another, the tension between them grew and she felt goosebumps up her back. She cleared her throat some.
“You wanted to tell me something earlier, was that it?” Y/N asked, wanting to get them talking about something else.
“What?”
“In the van, when I entered it, you said you had something to say, what did you have to say?”
“Oh,” Harry said as if suddenly remembering. He glanced away suddenly, scratching at the back of his neck. “No, it was… I wanted to tell you that… I know we haven’t spent much time together since the whole… since Terraland… last Saturday- so like, a week ago…”
She nodded, encouraging him to keep going.
“I’m sorry for that. I don’t… The last thing I’d ever do is hurt your feelings or make you uncomfortable.”
“I know, Harry.”
“I just…” He watched her, taking in every single one of her movements as if he would forget what she looked like when she left. “You and me, you know… we were sitting there together and… you were so pretty when we sat there at Porthgwidden, I couldn’t… I had to kiss you. Spur of the moment kind thing, I suppose.”
Y/N did not want to look at him, did not want to hear him say anything else. Had all the nice things he had said at the beach also been just “spur of the moment” then? So nothing was real? Not that she had thought it was, but that kind of just underlined it, didn’t it? She didn’t know what to think anymore, everything was so blurry, nothing seemed to really make sense. Everything was for the fake relationship, it always was.
“Y/N!” Fatima called from outside, Y/N glanced at her. “Say goodbye so we can leave!”
When she glanced back at Harry, Harry seemed to get a little desperate, not wanting her to leave just yet. But Y/N couldn’t stay.
“Y/N,” Harry said, maybe realising that what he’d said might’ve been a bit much. “I-I didn’t mean it like that.”
She gave him a smile. “We’ll talk soon, yeah?”
Harry just nodded, and she walked out the door and toward Fatima who was smiling at her. With one last glance over her shoulder, she saw Harry in the window over his dining table, looking out after Y/N and Fatima as they walked along the gravel path toward town. His hand was resting by the tomato she had laid there for him, hoping that it could somehow be a good second to his usual cucumber tradition after nights out. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest as a slight cold breeze blew past them and Fatima audibly shivered.
“Yeah, would you look at that,” Fatima said as Y/N glanced her way. “Left me out in the wind, you did. Now I’m freezing.”
Y/N laughed, nudging Fatima’s shoulder with her own. The two friends went on back to Fatima’s place, acting as two old friends would.
Monday, 3 August
This was the first time Y/N had ever witnessed rain in St Ives since she arrived in June. It was not pouring down as one would assume after a long drought, a slight pitter-patter fell onto the grass around her as she walked along the gravel path, falling onto the hood of the yellow rain coat she was wearing. The sky was a dull grey, not something one should be worrying about, but there were a few darker clouds hovering somewhere in the horizon and she was sure that with this high of a temperature and the promise of pouring rain later on, lightning would occur as well.
Once she reached the lightkeeper residence, she knocked three times, waited a minute for Harry to open, then peeked her head in when he didn’t. Harry was sat by the dining table, looking through an instruction manual in front of him, frowning down at the pages as if he was reading a language he did not understand. At the sound of the door opening, he looked in Y/N’s direction, giving her a little smile.
“Saw you approach just now,” he said before looking down at the manual before him again.
“So you didn’t bother opening the door for me?” she asked, smiling over at him, but Harry did not answer. This was what she had been afraid of.
Ever since the karaoke and barbeque night at the farm, Harry had not met her gaze. Whenever she had come over to study, he wouldn’t spend too long in the cottage with her and he would rarely make her tea as he usually did. There was something not subtly cold, but different. He still welcomed her to sit in his windowsill and would still talk to her, but he wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t stay around for long enough so they could talk properly. Y/N had tried, even suggested they go down to the Bakery to buy a pasty and walk around St Ives, go to the Candy Shoppe, or to the pub to have a few pints, but Harry had turned down all her offers, told her they could do it another time. He never really gave an explanation for why he didn’t want to hang out and Y/N was afraid of asking for one. But they had to talk. She didn’t want to go on like this, especially when Harry had come to mean so much to her.
“What’re you up to, then?” She took her coat and boots off, walking over to where Harry was seated by the dining table.
“I’m about to change the bulbs before it starts getting dark out and the lamp’s turned on,” he explained, furrowing his brows as he ran his finger over the page, concentrating on reading a specific line. Y/N stayed silent as not to disturb anything. He got up from the chair, sipping the last of his tea before he shoved the manual down in the back pocket of his denim shorts. He slipped his red knitted jumper over his Elton John tee shirt, the same one he had given to Y/N to wear after Dax’s birthday party when she slept over for the first time.
“Can I help?” she asked, giving him a smile she hoped he’d lay his eyes on her to see.
And he did, lips parting a little as if he was surprised by the suggestion. This puzzled Y/N as she had always expressed her willingness to help him, no matter what.
“Go on, then.” Harry nodded. “Just needed a cuppa before I started, it’s well past 6 after all.”
“You’re going to bed soon?”
“Yeah, and the lamp gets turned on in about an hour.”
Y/N smiled as he walked past her. “You’ve been procrastinating all day, have you?”
“Not all day.”
She laughed and she thought she saw the flicker of a smile on Harry’s lips at the sound.
“I’ve done other things as well, but I need this done now and quickly.”
Y/N nodded, putting her rain boots back on as Harry got his trainers on, the two then jogging in the direction of the lighthouse as not to get soaked in the rain that was starting to fall harder around them. Harry held the door open for her, then locked it once they were both inside. They started their ascent, Harry leading them past his little office floor, past the bedroom like room, up and up and up, till they finally reached the bell room. Even though Y/N was wearing a short white sundress with her green oversized boxy high-neck jumper along with her mid-calf black rain boots, she walked up the ladder leading to the bell room. She remembered how she had been reluctant to walk up wearing a dress that first time, but now she didn’t really care. Harry needed to change the bulbs and she said she was going to help.
Along the way, Harry had brought a toolbox with him, placing it up on the floor of the bell room before he walked up the ladder, letting Y/N go on up after him. For some reason it shocked Y/N when she came up to see that the lamp – the only thing inside the bell room – was not moving. She had imagined that the light in lighthouses moved around, and though Harry had explained what offshore and shore-based lighthouses were, the pattern of a lighthouse and the like, he hadn’t really explained how the lamp worked.
“It doesn’t rotate,” she said, walking up to the relatively small lamp in the middle of the room.
Harry was rummaging through his toolbox, stopping momentarily as he glanced over his shoulder at Y/N, unsure what she was referring to first, then let his eyes fall to the lens. “It flashes.”
Y/N furrowed her brows, walking around the lens to get a good look at it, studying the ridges and different colours of it, blank and red. “flashes?”
Harry pulled a screwdriver out of the toolbox and started working on the screws around the lamp. “It’s to identify it when it’s dark out, sailors can’t make out the white lighthouse when it’s night-time.”
“Makes sense.”
“Most lighthouses, especially shore-based ones like Clodgy, rhythmically flash or eclipse their lights to provide an identification signal. The particular pattern of flashes or eclipses is known as the character of the light, and the interval at which it repeats itself is called the period.” Harry tipped the plastic lens to reveal the five lightbulbs under it; Y/N was surprised to see it wasn’t made of glass. She supposed it was more convenient. “Essentially, a lighthouse may display a single flash, regularly repeated at perhaps 5-, 10-, or 15- seconds intervals. This is known as a flashing light. Clodgy is one of them.”
“What are these then?” Y/N asked, pointing to the red streaks.
“Basically, if someone is on sea and they are driving in the direction of sharp rocks or land, they’ll see a red light flashing instead of a normal, yellow one.”
“Danger, danger.”
Harry reached into his pocket, pulling out a box and putting it on the little space underneath the lamp.
“How many bulbs are there?” Y/N asked, looking at the different ones all attached to a round object in the middle of the lens.
“Five, they usually don’t have to be changed out. You gotta do so every 15-25 years, depending. This little thing-“ Harry pointed to the small bulb between them. “Lights up 15 miles using these lenses. It’s incredible.”
Y/N looked up at Harry, seeing a tiny and amused smile on his face as he talked. This was the most she had heard him talk in over a week; it made her heart do a silly fluttery thing.
“When one of these five bulbs go out, the apparatus knows that the bulb no longer works and it will rotate and-“ Harry placed his finger on the side of the bulb, rotating it to the right so that the apparatus turned, clicking as another bulb fit into place at the top. “-Click to a new bowl, it’s on automation and all that. So, we rarely change the bulbs.”
She bit her bottom lip as she watched him, not able to help herself. It was just so endearing to watch him like this, so amazing to hear him talking so unfiltered to her again. Right then, talking about bulbs and apparatuses and what not, he was so engulfed, so eager to tell her everything, that he did not care how he sounded. He was comfortable. She could tell.
He must’ve noticed how he rambled off, because he cleared his throat and stood up straight again, running a hand through his hair as a slight pink colour appeared in his cheeks. He quickly started to change the first bulb, putting a new on in its stead. Y/N just watched him, finding the sound of Harry working, the slight clicks, the quiet patter of the rain against the windows surrounding them, very relaxing. He seemed to be relaxed as well, so she thought this might be the best time as any.
Inhaling slowly, she leaned her hands on either side of the slight counter the lamp was standing on. She looked over it at Harry, his bottom lip between his teeth as he put the second bulb in its new place.
“Harry, we…” she started, swallowing thickly. “We need to talk about… things.”
Harry sighed. “Yes. Yes, we do.”
Knowing he felt the same way about that made it easier to breathe for a reason. At least she wasn’t going into this the same way she had been going into the Emilia situation after Dax’s birthday.
He started on the third bulb as he started talking, beating Y/N to it. “I, uhm… I want to tell you about my dad.”
This came as a shock to Y/N who was left raising her eyebrows at him for a second or two before saying, “Yeah, alright.”
He glanced up at her over the lightbulb. “You didn’t see it coming?”
“We’ll talk about your dad first,” Y/N gave him a reassuring smile. “We have time. We’ll always have time.”
“But that’s the thing…” Harry trailed off, switching out the fourth bulb, not meeting her eyes. “We don’t. If there’s one thing we won’t always have, it’s time. There won’t ever be enough time spent with your loved ones, there just won’t. No matter how much time you spend or how much time you spent with someone, you’ll always want more time. Always. What you got is never enough.”
The rain outside fell a little harder against the windows of the bell room, the wind a little harsher.
“Two years ago, my dad went on a fishing trip. He usually did this, took a few of his mates and then set off out wherever. They were never gone for more than a day tops, they always returned at night with tons of fish and I remember how Jessa would be so delighted and then invite our whole family over for barbecues and the like.” He paused as he started on the fifth and last bulb. “One day, September 4th to be exact, he didn’t return. Jessa and I sat up for hours waiting for signs of him. She started calling the spouses of the others on the boat, no one else had returned either.”
Y/N absolutely hated that she knew where this was going but she hadn’t told Harry that yet.
“Dax ended up sleeping at the lightkeeper house with me for a month and some after that, just didn’t want me to be alone, you know? He’s sound like that.” Once he was done putting the bulb in place, he reached for the lens and put it back where it belonged. “I think most of my mates and the people in my family’s life tried to keep our minds off it, ‘cause the more days went by, the more likely it was that… you know… he was dead.”
Harry sighed, reaching for the screwdriver, taking a little pause in talking as he screwed everything back into place. Y/N took a few steps back, watching him do his job and make himself ready to talk again.
“The boat was found October 14th, no one and nothing was in it.” Harry still wouldn’t look at her, put the screwdriver back in the toolbox and kept his back to her for a few seconds before turning around again. The bell room was starting to get relatively dark; she supposed the light would turn on soon, and she could barely make out the slight glassy expression in Harry’s eyes.
“I went absolutely mad. There are big chunks of time that I don’t even remember from that time, my brain has just… erased it from my memory, it was the darkest period of my life. They didn’t find any of the passengers’ bodies, there were three of them as well. It had been a turbulent and stormy night, so a sea storm took them out, drowned them all. But I… I…” Harry inhaled hugely, breathing shakily. “I didn’t… I still kinda don’t want… want to believe it. My dad is laying somewhere, far away from me, far away from Jessa, Gracie, from… from home…” He looked down at the ground, blinking rapidly. “It doesn’t fucking feel real. It’s not supposed to happen. This… He was a good sailor; he didn’t drown at sea.”
Y/N felt something starting to sting behind her eyes, she bit her bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. The storm outside seemed to pick up, sounding rougher than a minute before.
“I took over after him because I thought… I thought that, if no one else could, I could help him find the way home. I could shine that light; I’d take care of the lighthouse till he came back home. I’d show him the way, I’d light up the path for him, and he’d come home to me again. Where he belonged, where he should’ve been all along.” He took a deep breath, slowly looking up again, eyes falling to the lamp in the middle of the room. “It was a way for me to ignore the fact that he was truly dead. He wouldn’t come back. I didn’t really… I didn’t realise how… I didn’t realise how true it was that my dad, my constant, was gone, until Emilia left as well.”
Y/N furrowed her brows, a sort of rage filling her again. She had never been this angry before. There was something burning inside her, a sort of desire to protect Harry from everything evil in the world. No one deserved to hurt, but Harry least of everyone.
“I met Emilia at one of Astronaut Lions’ gigs the year before. I remember standing at the bar and she came up to me, asked me if I was Amos’ son – that’s my dad’s name, by the way - to which I said yes, and she told me her dad used to lend my dad and his mates his fishing boat sometimes. My dad and hers knew each other. So, we got talking, and, I want to say it’s ‘cause our dads knew each other, we got pretty close, pretty fast.”
Talking about Emilia brought Y/N’s gagging reflex into full force, but she composed herself.
“When my dad died, she was around, but not as often as Dax, Amir, Jo, Fatima, Ellie, or my family. She visited and stuff, kept me occupied, but the gang spent a lot of time at my place, occasionally rotating. It was nice, I didn’t want to be alone. I love being alone, but I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts then.”
Harry leaned against the window, eyes falling to the floor. Y/N continued to stand where she had, watching Harry carefully.
“We had been together for a year and some then. We hadn’t really fought much, I don’t really like confrontation, it makes me very uncomfortable, so I usually just let her say what she wanted to say if she was annoyed with me and didn’t bother arguing. Fatima kept telling me how unfair it was on her and our relationship, and also on myself, that I never really stood up for myself when we fought. It’s, like… I wanted it to work out so much that I wanted to ignore the things that didn’t. I didn’t want to do something that might cause us to break up.” He sighed heavily. “We were good for each other, we did have some good times, and she was my first ever proper girlfriend that broke my heart, but… but these last few weeks I’ve come to realise that she never really wanted what was best for me the way all my mates did.”
Y/N wanted to walk over to him and hug him. She wanted to console him; tell him she was there if he needed anything.
“I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about that part of my life, you know? I’m aware that breaking up with someone ‘cause they’re bad for your mental health is valid, but what she did really affected me. It made the grieving process worse. I had never really felt truly alone till then.” He furrowed his brows some. “I didn’t have dad; I didn’t have Emilia… I knew I had my mates, but… Emilia and dad meant so much to me, losing them both in such a short period of time… broke me.”
Y/N swallowed a lump in her throat, hoping he couldn’t hear how sad his story made her. “Harry, you don’t have to elaborate if it’s hard for you.”
“No, you deserve to know. Emilia’s back, you’re my… my supposed girlfriend and you… I want you to know.”
Y/N nodded, clutching at the hem of her jumper.
“I know it was a naff move on my part when I went with her to get her that cup, I know I should have understood why you were rightfully upset right away, I know I shouldn’t have been too friendly when she came to Terraland…” Trailing off, he balled his hands into fists at his sides. “The reason why I’ve been so reluctant to push her out of my life is… I know it’s fucking mental; I know I sound right mad, yeah? But… I figured that if she could return, then maybe… then maybe dad…” Harry didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to.
Y/N shook her head as the only thing in the bell room that was audible was the sound of the rain and wind outside, sounding eerie and strong against the top of the lighthouse. “It’s not mental. It’s a very valid and normal reaction to grief, clinging onto the last shred you have of someone, hoping that one day they might come back to you.”
Harry looked at her feet, not ready to meet her eyes yet.
“My dad and I have never been close. I used to love being around him when I was little, I remember associating him with goodness and warmth. He would play with me and make me laugh, do things that my mum hated him for.”
“Like?”
“Throw me in the air, let me jump from a bunk bed and onto the mattress on the floor below, that sort of thing.” Y/N almost smiled at the memory. She hadn’t thought about that in ages. “However, as I grew up, my dad just got colder. He was still nice to me, was still protective and a dad, but he wasn’t the same.”
Y/N could tell by the slight breath Harry inhaled that he wanted to ask what changed but stopped himself. She was grateful he did. She could not go that far just yet.
“But… though it’s not the same as you, I respected my dad’s wishes to stay in Winchester and do as my mum; become a stay-at-home mum who didn’t need education or anything like that. He wanted me to marry well and learn how to be a mum; learn how to be safe at home and mostly indoors at all times.” She furrowed her brows some. “I believed him when he told me I wouldn’t be fit to become a dentist.” She paused for a moment. “You know when you’re scared, and you believe every word your parents say to you ‘cause you don’t know what else to do? They’re older, wiser, got more experience, so of course they know better than you, they know the best thing to do in any given situation.”
Harry nodded slightly.
“Before… Before I came to St Ives, I hadn’t really parted from my family at all. It wasn’t really like I had a choice. They were just always there, and I was expected to be there, too. I was terrified when I left; not only didn’t my parents know I was leaving, but I had just disappointed them in every way possible anyway, so I… I couldn’t stay there.” Her eyes fell on the lamp that yet hadn’t turned on.
Harry cleared his throat, eyes still on the lens in the middle of the room. “Your parents don’t know you’re here?”
“They do now.”
“You told them?”
Y/N felt her heart pick up its speed, she swallowed thickly, continuing to avoid Harry’s eyes. “What I’m trying to get at is that I haven’t, and probably won’t, tell them about the UCAT, or the fact that I’m trying to become a dentist. Part of me wishes that I did, but I know the reaction I’m gonna get… And the other part of me… That part is longing for that loving and warm father to return, the one that helped me fly when I was little.” She leaned against the window. “It’s not the same as you by any means, but it’s-“
“-It’s just as valid, Y/N.”
She shook her head some, looking out at the tall waves below. “You ever get the feeling that, no matter what, you won’t really be good enough, and you settle down with that thought? It’s not this hopeless feeling, but rather you’re just… content with that. You’re average so you’ll get average back.”
“You’re not average.”
She looked over at him, and for what seemed like the first time that day, their eyes met.
“Did your parents make you feel that horrible about yourself?”
Y/N crossed her arms. “In what way?”
“That you were average? Not destined for good things? That you didn’t deserve proper happiness?”
“I was satisfied with life in Winchester.”
“Satisfaction and happiness are two vastly different things.”
It seemed like he wanted to take a step forward but stopped himself, taking a deep breath before settling against the window again. Y/N pushed slightly away from the wall, standing closer to the light.
“It’s like the whole thing with me and Emilia again, innit? There were times when I was happy with her, but I think that’s more to do with the fact that I knew she was there. I could always rely on her. But bottom line is that being with her didn’t bring me instant and constant happiness like-“ He stopped himself, as if remembering there were things he wasn’t supposed to say. “She didn’t make me happy like she should’ve. I was satisfied.”
“Isn’t being at peace good? If someone or something brings you peace, isn’t that good?”
Harry shrugged his shoulders some. “There are different kinds, though. Your life and the people in it should be able to make you feel something, you know? Not being excited to see someone or to be somewhere or to do something, it does nothing. You don’t grow if you’re satisfied ‘cause you’re not moving, you’re not evolving.”
“Being happy isn’t a constant, though. You can’t always be happy, sometimes you’re just… not.”
“How boring would life be if you felt the same way, did the same things, saw the same people every single day? How boring would it be without change?”
Y/N felt herself smiling. “You’re a lighthouse keeper, you do the same things every single day.”
“I don’t, though,” he said. “I might be stuck here in St Ives most of the time, but I never do the same thing every single day. And besides…” He trailed off, biting his bottom lip some. “Besides life’s been anything but ordinary lately.”
Y/N glanced at her arms in front of her. “I… I hated change.”
“You don’t anymore?”
“To a degree,” she said. “I’m happy with the decision I made to leave my old life behind, but now… now I don’t really know what to do. I’m going to apply for University, but what if I’m too old? I’m 25, way older than everyone else there will be, and I… I dunno. I feel like I have to figure myself out all over again now that I don’t have my parents around me anymore, it’s like I don’t know who I am. Once this summer is over and I leave St Ives – ‘cause St Ives, you, and everyone here, are genuinely what’s keeping me together right now – I… I dunno how I’m going to survive. Will I have myself when I don’t even know who I am? Is it too late for me to get a fresh start? Who- Who will be there to help guide me in the right direction if I have no one in my life?”
There was no trace of hesitation as Harry said, voice deep and low, “You’ll always have someone.”
“Will I? I feel lost, Harry.” She blinked a few times, hoping to prevent possible tears from falling. “I’m so lost. Where do I even go from here? I don’t and can’t go back to how life used to be, where do I go?”
“Don’t go.”
She glanced up at him, the lamp beside them suddenly coming to life with a massive blink. Though the suddenness of the light had scared her, Harry’s words had been what got her heart racing. The light blinked in the direction of the sea, the other side from where they stood so Y/N couldn’t see it directly, only the dark back that was facing the mainland. However, she could not care less for the light as Harry stared back at her, right into her eyes, for the first time in what seemed like forever. She felt herself relax at the sight of him, but his words still reverberated through her head, making it spin slightly.
“What?”
“Don’t go,” he repeated, stepping away from the window. “Stay.”
Her arms fell to her sides. “You… You want me to stay in St Ives?”
It took a few seconds, as if he was building up the courage to say something he thought was obvious, but, seemingly, not so obvious to Y/N. “Yes.”
“But I…” She trailed off, blinking a few times as if she were trying to regain composure. “You’ve never said.”
“’Cause I’ve always been afraid of your reaction.”
“My… my reaction?”
“If it would scare you.”
“Why would that scare me?”
“’Cause someone telling you they care for you more than… more than they care for anyone else, and you not feeling the same way… I don’t want to scare you.”
Y/N was sure she had not heard him right. And if she had, she must have misinterpreted his statement, because surely he had not just said what she thought he said. The light blinked its usual pattern, lighting up the darkening bell room as the two just stood staring at one another.
“I thought you only felt like that for Emilia.”
Harry frowned, shaking his head as if what he’d just heard was absurd. “Emilia?”
“Well, then… then that you used to feel like that for her, that you two used to be close. I’ve been jealous of that, after all.”
“You’ve been jealous?” Harry’s eyes were wide, intently staring at Y/N as she continued to explain. “How do you mean?”
“Dunno…” Y/N said, knowing that she probably sounded like an absolute plonker. “You’ve always seemed pretty caught up on her. That you still have feelings for her.”
He studied her, mouth falling shut as he let his eyes scan her face, saying a soft, “I don’t.”
“But- But why do you blush when she’s around, then?”
At the mention of him blushing, a red colour appeared in his cheeks and he glanced away for a few seconds, running his hands through his hair. Y/N could not help a small smile on her lips, biting at the corner of her mouth to stop herself from doing so.
“I get flustered, don’t I? It’s not like I can help it,” Harry explained, gesturing at his face as he took a few steps forward. “She’s my ex, it’s weird being around her.”
“You act so shy, though. Isn’t that how you are around people you’re nervous in front of?”
“I acted like that with you as well, did you notice?”
Y/N felt a breath hitch in her throat, something about Harry admitting this made her entire body hot. Part of her did not believe this could be true, it was just too good, while the other urged her to keep going, see what happened next. She shook her head slightly. “I-I dunno.”
“I was so bloody nervous,” Harry said, chuckling a little to himself. “It was genuinely hard for me to form sentences ‘cause I didn’t want to make a right twit of myself, yeah? I just… I wanted to impress you so bad, but it was so hard.”
She pressed her lips together, heart hammering hard, hands feeling clammy with anticipation.
“I’m not nervous around you anymore, though.”
“You’re not?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I feel safe with you now. I don’t care that I make a fool of myself ‘cause you won’t mind.”
She smiled a little. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He gestured around him with a soft jerk of his chin. “You’re a light room.”
Y/N wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but stopped herself when their eyes met again. She wanted to walk to him, to be near him.
“It’s like…” Harry started, pausing for a few seconds before he went on. “It’s weird being around someone you thought meant a lot to you and you realise they didn’t. But with you… that’s…” He glanced at the ground again, tugging at the hem of his red jumper. “It’s different.”
She continued to just look at him, afraid that if she said anything he would stop.
“It’s… it’s like I… like-“ He cleared his throat, suddenly blushing uncontrollably, and it was as if he knew how ridiculous he must look because he let out a small laugh. “You were the prettiest woman I’d ever seen and I wanted to impress you, I didn’t want to embarrass myself and have you not want to be around me anymore.”
His eyes fell to her feet, moving up over her bare legs, landing on her tummy as he continued to find the words lost somewhere within him. He took a deep breath.
“I’m not good with words, so explaining how much you mean to me is hard, but I know that I… that you…” He drifted off again, meeting her eyes. “You were the person I wanted to be in the arms of at Terraland, when I was all shaken up ‘cause of that ride, not Emilia, no one else but you. And you’re the only person I want to be in the arms of right now, tomorrow, and probably every single day after that. I like it when you hold me, when you’re around. That’s all I know.” His eyes fell to her lips for a second, meeting her eyes as if he remembered that was forbidden territory. She had said as much. “I like it when we touch, everything seems at once much simpler but also so much more important and grander because of you.”
Biting her bottom lip, Y/N walked closer to Harry, and at the sight, he took two more steps closer as well, meeting right beside the lamp that was still occasionally lighting up the bell tower and the entire coast along with it. Standing right there in front of one another, something that could only resemble magic passed between them and circled around them, drawing them closer to one another. They were meant to be close, meant to be right here, with one another. It was wrong to be anywhere else than with Harry. She didn’t feel as lost when he was here; there was a sense of reason, of purpose, when they were together that was so great to the point of invention, there was no other way of explaining it. This, what was between then, was beyond anything. Limitless, unfathomable, immeasurable; infinite.
“I want to touch you,” Y/N said, her voice almost a whisper as she, once again, glanced at his lips.
“Touch me. Please.”
Slowly and gentler than she had ever been before, she placed her hand to his cheek, thumb stroking over the slight stubble before she slid the tips of her fingers to the back of his jaw and then forth again. He closed his eyes, leaning into her.
“Please, touch me,” he repeated, the breath of his pleading words falling against her hot wrist. “Never stop.”
She studied his face, loving the calming effect she had on him because it matched the one he had on her. Though he made her heart race and had her overthinking everything, he calmed her down and made her feel at peace. Exhilarated her and confused her; overwhelmed her and elated her. He made her feel everything all at once, and Y/N thought at last, wasn't that what love really was? When you felt like the feelings inside your body transcended everything, made you see everything around you in a new light? When it changed your world for the better?
Y/N’s hand slid down Harry’s cheek and his neck, and at the change, he opened his eyes to look at her again. She took another step forward, leading him toward her as her eyes fell to his lips, meeting his eyes as they hovered dangerously close to one another. The light blinked on and Y/N pressed her lips against Harry’s. They melted into each other instantly. Harry placed one of his hands to her neck and the other one to her hip, bringing her closer. She breathed against him, the rest of the world around them disappearing completely as they drew out the kiss.
His tongue traced her bottom lip, making a shiver run up her spine. Gently, she slipped her tongue into his mouth, making sure she did not overwhelm him, that it was okay. He instantly complied, stroking his against hers, swirling his around hers sensually, lighting Y/N on fire. She moaned into him, gripping at the hair at the back of his neck as their mouths opened wider, welcoming more of the other to enter and entrance them completely. She ran her other hand over his chest, wrapping it around him, while Harry’s slid down along her back, stopping just before he reached her bum, squeezing her a little as if he wasn’t mentally ready to go down there just yet tonight. The bell room continued to illuminate up, shining its guiding light out across the ocean, helping sailors home and to their final destinations. However, neither Y/N nor Harry could even remember where they really were as they continued to kiss one another. She felt his moan on her tongue, a slight whimper that he had not been able to hold back as they deepened the kiss. They instantly got more frantic; desperate, harder. She pushed against him more forcefully, wanting to taste and feel all of him.
For an instant, and what felt like for the first time since they had known each other, Harry took control. He pressed her against the bar with the lamp, keeping one hand on her neck, thumb at her chin, and the other on her waist. She gasped at the suddenness, her entire body aflame as Harry kissed along her jaw, tilting her head as to get better access. She could not help the contented sigh that left her lips, pushing him even closer to her, wrapping her left leg around his right one as to ensure he did not step away from her.
He whispered her name against her neck, leaving wet kisses along the skin that was exposed and that he could reach without removing the high neck of her jumper. He kissed the tip of her jaw, sucking lightly, and she could not hold back her whimper. It seemed to have had an effect on him that she herself had not anticipated, yet absolutely adored. Between them, pressed against her tummy, she could feel him. It seemed to have startled him as well, maybe not having anticipated it to happen that quickly, but he kissed along her neck again, seemingly not really caring anymore. He wanted her to know just how much power she held over him. He came back to her face, lips hovering above hers. They panted against one another, not letting each other go as the rain outside picked up, thunder rumbling in the distance, and the light that Y/N was pressed up again kept lighting up the ocean ahead.
“I, uhm…” Harry stared down, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry ‘bout… that.”
Y/N smiled, shaking her head slightly. “Don’t apologise for that.” She brought her leg further up, twining it more around him to bring him closer. As if it was instinctual, Harry reached for her thigh, helping her bring it up to his waist. She let out another sigh, loving how he drew closer to her in the process of yanking her leg up higher. Their eyes met again, and she leaned her forehead against his.
“I thought we agreed on a ‘no kissing rule’,” Harry mumbled, lips brushing against hers as he spoke. “I thought you didn’t want to kiss me.”
“I want to kiss you; I just don’t want it to be part of our fake relationship.”
“This has nothing to do with that.” He moved to kiss her again and spoke against her lips. “I need to ask you, though, before anything more happens.”
She watched him, the sight of him slightly blurry but she did not care.
“There’s… There’s a bed… downstairs if you'd be interested in… you know…”
She smiled.
“In what?”
Harry smiled, giggling a little as he leaned his forehead against hers again. “I don’t want there to be mixed signals, so I’m just… I’m just gonna fucking say it.”
“Say it.”
He gripped her knee tighter. “Do you want to have sex with me? ‘Cause I… I mean, it’s not the sexiest way to go about it, just asking like that, but I… it’s very obvious that I would like- very much like to… you know, if you’d like. I don’t want to-“
She chuckled and Harry stopped talking, smiling at her. “I think asking is very sexy. Mixed signals aren’t sexy.”
“You’re right.”
She leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his lips.
“Flower,” he mumbled, voice rasping ever so slightly, making heat instantly pool between her thighs. “Would you let me make you feel good?”
“Do you think you can?”
Harry met her eyes, a crooked smile coming to his lips. “I’ve had no complaints before.”
“No complaints from Emilia?”
A slight furrow appeared between his brows before it lifted, his smile came back and it got wider. “You really were jealous of her.”
“She got to be close to you.”
“Well,” Harry said, eyes fluttering to her lips. “You’re close to me now. You’re closer to me than anyone’s ever been before.”
Y/N squeezed him closer, biting her lip before she said, “Yes.”
“You… you want to go downstairs?”
“Yes.”
Harry’s smile grew so wide it was hard for him to fight just how giddy he was getting at her words. He stepped away from her, taking her hand in his. They left the blinking bell room, climbing down the ladder, Harry securing the hatch before he turned to face Y/N again. Once they were in the near darkness of that room, they kissed again, desperate to feel one another again. This happened almost on every single floor – pressing each other up against a wall, needy to feel, to taste, to be close – as they could simply not help themselves.
Once they reached the floor, Y/N instantly recognised the door and where they were headed. On her first trip to the lighthouse, she had seen a bed in that room, the door had been half open, but Harry had closed it on their way down. Now, Harry opened it for her, letting her inside. It was tiny. A twin bed stood at the far end, its white sheets made neatly over it, while the desk – which stood perched right under a small window that was being attacked by harsh rain - was filled with photographs of Harry’s family. Him, Amos, Jessa, and Grace. There was a dresser with a vase on top, a bouquet of dead flowers in it that it seemed Harry had forgotten completely about.
Harry closed the door behind them. “This used to be my dad’s room. When it was stormy, he’d stay in here. The door sometimes opens on its own, logically I know it’s just a draught, but…” He shrugged his shoulders and Y/N knew what he meant.
Instead of focusing on that – because they could talk about this in the morning – Y/N said, “Kiss me.”
Harry wasted no time. He marched over to her, pressing his lips hard against hers as he started walking her backwards toward the bed. He let her lay down first, taking her rain boots off before she wiggled up to the top, watching as Harry crawled his way up to her, hovering his lips over hers as to tempt her. She tried to lean up to kiss him since he was taking too long, but he moved further away.
“Twat.”
He chuckled, grinning down at her. “How long do you think you can stand not kissing me?”
She brought her hand up to his neck, bringing him down towards her lips. They kissed again – finally. She felt Harry smile against her lips.
“Needy.”
“You were taking too long.”
“You just can’t get enough of me, can you?”
She wanted to roll her eyes at him, but he was correct. She wrapped her legs around him, bringing his core down onto hers. Harry groaned into her; his erecting cock pressed against her heat. He melted into her instantly, burying his hands in her hair.
“Neither can you,” she whispered back, making Harry let out a breathy chuckle.
“I also just want to make it clear,” he said against her lips. “If anything I do is not working, doesn’t do anything for you, doesn’t feel good, or if you want to try something new, a new position or anything like that, tell me, yeah?”
She smiled, nodding her head as they kept kissing. “Yeah. Same goes for you.”
“Do you have a favourite position?”
Y/N froze a little, thinking to herself and blushing when Harry looked down at her.
“What?” he asked.
“I’ve… only ever really done two.”
“Two… positions?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s fine, did you enjoy them?”
“Yeah, I did. Sex was never really been about enjoyment as much as it was about closeness.”
Harry furrowed his brows. “You should enjoy sex, Y/N.”
“I know, I know. I just… I used to set fire to myself to keep others warm. I realised that was not what I should be doing, which is why I ended up in St Ives. With you. Here.”
Harry leaned down again, pressing a lingering and deep kiss to her lips. “You will enjoy yourself and feel real fucking good tonight, yeah? We’ll find something that works for both of us.”
She smiled. “Time will tell.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I’ll feel real fucking good.”
Harry halted a little as he heard that word slip from her lips. He had never heard it before. She felt the effect it had on him against her. “I’ll show you, flower.”
He reached down to the hem of her jumper and the two got it off her, throwing it to the floor before they started kissing again. She wrapped her legs around him again, resting her heels at the top of his bum, urging him closer to her. Slowly and deliberately, Harry grinded against her, revealing them both of a small fraction of pleasure, increasing the anticipation that was building in the air around them. Hard against her most delicate spot. She felt a desperate need to reach for him, to feel him right there, as ready for her as she was for him, but she liked this much better. Feeling him moan against her, the slow waves of his hips as he stroked his growing erection against the heat between her legs that was aching. His promise lingered in the back of her head, making her nipples perk at the thought. You will enjoy yourself and feel real fucking good tonight.
Harry’s hand slipped down the front of her white summer dress, lingering over her breast where he felt her already hard nipple. He squeezed her breast, bringing what he could of the nipple between his index and middle finger, squeezing lightly as he started kissing down her jaw. An uncontrollable moan left her mouth as he kissed her neck, chest, between her covered breasts. She felt hot all over as he kissed his way down, leaving no spot untouched by his swollen lips. He reached her thighs, kissing up her right one, leaving wet spots that got cold in the crisp air of the lightkeeper room.
“Turn over,” he said, sitting up on his knees to make the process easier for her.
She did as he told her to without hesitation. Again, he leaned over her, nose nuzzling her hair as he kissed her exposed shoulder. Each one of the kisses he trailed down her shoulder place, and back felt like a declaration of love; felt like a promise of forever, of safe keeping. Right in that moment, she realised she had never felt more appreciated or more turned on. She felt so seen, so important, as Harry kept kissing her back, sucking on her skin, humming moans of absolute delight into her that made goosebumps appear all over her. He reached for the zipper of her dress, kissing her shoulder before he whispered, “Okay if I undress you?”
“Please.”
Harry unzipped her dress, leaving a lingering kiss to her shoulder as he shoved both the straps off her shoulders. She took them off, letting the dress hang loosely over her breasts. Just because she felt like it, she lifted her arse off the bed, pressing it against Harry’s hard-on. It took him off guard and he gasped a little into her ear, but quickly took a grip around her waist. He pressed down hard on her, parting her bumcheeks as his protruding cock could now be seen, and felt, outside his denim shorts.
“Fuck,” he breathed as he grinded against her. His hands slipped down further, hovering over her centre, laying a slight pressure on her over her dress and knickers that was exactly what Y/N needed right then.
“Harry,” she whimpered, feeling him moan at her utterance.
“Dreamed about you saying my name like that,” he mumbled, kissing her shoulder again. “Sound even fucking better than I could’ve imagined.”
He placed more pressure on her, making her gasp and throw her head back slightly, leaning it against Harry’s beside her. They grinded against one another, absolutely lost in this seductive dance that they would have no problem doing forever. Panting a little, Harry kissed her shoulder again, knowing that they could not go on like that, no matter how much they wanted, because he would surely not be able to handle much of it before finishing. The heat between Y/N’s legs was excruciating, she could barely take it as Harry pulled her dress completely off her, exposing her naked back to him.
“On your knees.”
She did as he demanded, getting on her knees in the bed as Harry positioned himself right behind her. He ran his hands over her wet knickers, wanting to properly feel all of her now that he finally had her there. It sent a lightening up her spine, making her moan as he reached her bud, flicking it slowly. He kissed the outside of her knickers before he ran his tongue over her, the hot wetness of him on her made her gasp, sweet torture that she both welcomed and hated. Hooking his fingers under the hem of her knickers, he slid them over her bum and down her legs, and. Again, she felt cold as her wet skin was exposed to the chill room they were in, Harry’s ragged breaths didn’t exactly make it better. She whimpered slightly as she felt his breath go from cold to hot, she could feel the heat of his body radiating against her cunt and bum. With help of her hands, she raised, looking over her shoulder at him to see him there, only his eyes visible as he hovered in front of her.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered, planting a kiss to her bum before he went back to the place she had just been. “I’ll make you come, flower.”
“Actions speak louder than words,” she said, panting slightly in anticipation.
Harry smiled at her, she thought she saw a slight wink before he hovered back over her centre. She was about to tell him to just get on with it when she felt his tongue, hot and wet and hard, between her folds. She gasped again, closing her eyes at the impact. He licked up between her folds first, making sure to taste every last bit of her as he had thought about this for so long. He started off with a light pressure on her clit, licking around it, sometimes over it, driving Y/N absolutely insane. He slowly built up the pressure, making sure he did not overwhelm her, staying focused on the clit the entire time. He wrapped his lips around it, sucking lightly, something that made Y/N throw her head back, letting go of a loud moan that had Harry humming into her.
“Yes,” she gasped, fists buried in the white sheets under her.
He let go of her bud, licking up around the clit again, then over it, flicking it quickly while tipping his head to the side. She bit her bottom lip, looking over her shoulder at Harry as he continued to eat her out, eyes closed as if he was eating the feast of his life. Once again, he wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking lightly at first and building his pressure. Whimpering and panting, Y/N kept looking at Harry, the sight of him behind her like that, doing everything in his power to make her feel good – and succeeding – was so bloody hot.
When she had made her way up here today in the rain, she had never in her wildest dream this was where she would end up. On all fours, Harry seated behind her, eating her out. She had thrown away any hope of him even feeling a smudge of what she felt for him, but tonight, up in the light room, everything changed. Everything they said, and how they opened up to one another. She felt quite literally euphoric; static with adoration and completely engrossed in everything he did.
Harry moved up, slipping his tongue inside her hole, hands sliding down her thighs as he penetrated her. She swallowed thickly, biting at her bottom lip before she met his eyes.
“Doesn’t do anything.”
“Hm?” He moved up, eyes wide as he licked around his lips. “My tongue in you?”
“Yeah. Feels like you’re mushing mash into me.”
Harry laughed, resting his forehead against her bum as he shook, she chuckled as well.
“Don’t hold back,” he said.
“Sorry.”
“No, I’m glad you told me, flower.”
“Also,” she said as he started licking her again, she gasped slightly. “Can we switch? I want to watch you properly.”
Harry blinked slowly, smiling at her as he emerged. “Gladly.”
She turned around, placing herself on her back, Harry stopped to take her in, eyes gliding over her naked body in front of him. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deeply as he ran his hands over her tits, squeezing them just hard enough before he lowered them and himself. He positioned himself exactly where he’d been, spreading her legs wider for him.
He sucked on her clit again, this time pushing a finger into her. She instantly moaned loudly, burying her hands in his hair. Harry wrapped an arm around her thigh, holding her in place as he continued to lick at her clit, curving his finger ever so slightly as to make her feel the best she possibly could. She squirmed under him, her orgasm coming on much faster in this position than the last, streaming down her legs, her torso, towards the centre between her thighs where Harry was sucking at her most sensitive spot, pounding his finger into her. She tugged at his hair as she could feel it coming on closer.
“Harry,” she moaned and at once he reached up outside her thigh, cupping her breast in his large hand.
He ran a thumb over her nipples as he flicked at her clit, finger still buried inside her, watching as she started moving and panting and whimpering more and more. He moved his finger faster and sucked her bud, which was exactly what Y/N needed, she cried out, moving her hips with Harry’s fingers. He squeezed her breast, and she met his eyes, seeing his dark green eyes under his long lashes, drinking in the sight of her. He suddenly hit a spot that had fires erupt in her lower tummy. Y/N gasped and let out another loud moan, whimpering under Harry as he licked and fucked her through her orgasm. She did not take her eyes off him and he did not look away from her, ordering her to keep watching till she was completely down from her euphoria.
Y/N was sprawled out panting, smiling as Harry came up to hover above her. She took a grip of his neck, kissing him deeply. He tasted of her.
“I’ll go get a condom in the cottage,” he mumbled. “I-If that’s alright with you, of course. We don’t have-“
“-I want to.”
“Alright. Brilliant.” He stumbled as he got up from the bed in a hurry. “I’ll-I’ll be right back, yeah? Don’t move! I’ll-“ He looked over his shoulder as he stood in the open doorway, a huge sigh leaving his lips as his eyes wandered over her naked body. He shook his head slightly, letting out a chuckle of disbelief. “Fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled before running down the stairs and out of the lighthouse.
It did not take long for him to come back, condom in hand and panting as if he’d been sprinting back and forth. He closed the door again, placing the condom on the corner of the desk beside the bed, crawling back over her again.
“Been away from this for too long,” he mumbled, running a hand over her curves. “And your tits are bloody fantastic, by the way.”
She laughed at him, swatting his shoulder as he reached for the hem of his jumper and tee shirt, bringing both over the top of his head and throwing them to the floor.
“I’d been looking forward to doing that,” Y/N said.
“What, undress me?”
“Yes.”
His eyes seemed to darken a bit. “Take off the rest.”
And she did. Keeping eye contact, she reached for the front of his denim shorts, undoing the button and unzipping him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the slight pressure and caress of her fingers against his anticipating and hard prick seemed to do more to him than she thought it would. She hooked her finger around the band of his shorts and boxers, wiggling them down his hips till they were far enough down for him to do the rest. One hand supporting his weight, he used the other one to help her take his clothes off, but her eyes fell to his cock immediately.
It wasn’t like she had thought of it before. Yes, she might’ve had some dreams and daydreams involving Harry and her doing some very filthy things, but she hadn’t really let herself think about his prick. But there it was, and she felt absolutely giddy with anticipation now. She wanted to have proper sex with him; she wanted it so, so bad.
Harry reached for the condom, tearing it open and putting it on, hand sliding down his shaft and to the pubic hair at the very bottom. Seeing the slight trail from his navel and down to it made her mouth water.
“You alright?” Harry asked, that crooked smile on his lips making Y/N’s cheeks heat up. She was already flustered all over, she did not need him looking at her like that. He knew she had been looking and now he was taking the piss. As usual.
“How do you want me?” he asked, voice husky.
She bit her bottom lip, cocking her head to the side. “I dunno.”
He groaned, hovering closer to her lips. She felt him against her sensitive spot, making her gasp. “What can I have?”
She tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. “I want to be on top.”
That crooked smile came forth again, his dimples deepening. “Yes, ma’am.”
Taking a grip of her waist, he rolled around, making her lay on top of him. His head was on the pillow, right where hers had just been, so Y/N sat up. She took a grip of him, making Harry’s lips part at the impact. He gripped her thighs that were straddling either side of his hips, squeezing her lightly as encouragement. She sat up, bringing him to her, sliding him over the wetness he had caused. He let out a shaky breath, looking to be just as nervous as Y/N felt. She slid down onto him slowly, Harry’s eyes fluttered shut.
“Fuck,” he hissed, and Y/N gasped again.
“Harry,” she said, a little breathless already. “I’ve… I’ve never been on top before.”
He smiled. “That’s fine, here-“ He placed his hands on her hips, urging her to move. She followed his lead, biting her bottom lip hard as her clit rubbed against his pelvic area. “That’s it.”
She continued to grind against him, moving her hips as he was instructing her. Placing her hands on his chest for support, she started moving a little hard, with a little more purpose, Harry’s hands on her thighs a grounding and intense pressure.
“Keep doing that,” he encouraged, letting a moan slip from between his swollen lips. She rolled her hips, loving the filthy sounds they made as the rain kept on crashing against the window. They continued to look into each other’s eyes, not daring to look away as if it would bring them back to reality. Because this was too good to be true. Never before in her life had Y/N felt like this. She felt powerful as she rode Harry, felt a sort of strength in her that had never been present before. It had never been like this with Dominic; it had never been this intense. He hadn’t demanded she order him around, hadn’t been willing or suggested to try new things, hadn’t really done it like this. Harry looked at her as if the world revolved around her alone. As if the centre of the solar system was right here, and he was watching the sun about to eclipse, watching one of the most beautiful and magnificent moments in time. He gripped into her with feverish hands, coming with suggestions every once in a while, always letting her know just how good she was making him feel.
“That’s right,” he moaned as she moved her hips in circles. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
That might just have been the sexiest thing she had ever heard along with his moans. She continued doing exactly what she was doing, feeling her entire body heating up as she could sense her second orgasm that evening. Thinking about it, she wasn’t sure she had ever come twice in one night before. Maybe it was Harry, maybe it was the moment, maybe it was the fact that her and Harry were finally letting their guard down, admitting that there was something else between them besides their fake relationship. People who fake dated each other did not kiss like that, they did not have sex, they did not look at each other like it was all they wanted to do for the rest of their lives. No, this was more than what they had let on. Way more.
Harry sat up, making Y/N fall against his chest as he bent his knees ever so slightly. He placed one hand on her bum and the other on the mattress behind him as to help him move more swiftly. With each stroke over him, Harry thrusted back into her, rubbing at her bud each time and making everything around her seem much more colourful.
“Like that do you?” Harry asked, mouth parted as he panted into her wet lips.
She nodded her head, taking a grip of his shoulders to better move her hips. They moved together, looking into each other’s eyes as the rest of the world disappeared completely around them. The rain, the thunder, the buzzing of the light from upstairs turning on and turning off, it was all tuned out. Harry leaned down, placing one of his hands on her left breast to kneed it seductively. He kissed from her collarbone and down to her breast, sucking and nibbling lightly on her skin as he made his way to her nipple. Sucking it lightly, he looked up at Y/N who was squeezing his shoulders, telling him to keep going. Electricity shot from her tits and down her spine, heating up the fire that was building in her core. He closed his eyes as he sucked and kissed her tits, humming into her and making her moan time and time again. It felt so fucking good. Though she moved a little awkwardly, though they made some sounds together that made both of them laugh and heat up, though they were still trying to figure out what the other liked, this was still the best either had ever had.
As he was closing in on his finish, Harry wrapped both arms around her, bringing her closer to him. They kissed, desperate pleads and whimpers left each of their mouths as everything started setting on fire. Harry moved his hips with her, she tried to continue to move hers along with him, her hips shaking a little with the effort. Harry’s lips parted completely all of a sudden, a furrow appearing between his brows, and she felt it. He twitched against her and she continued to grind her hips, moving him through his orgasm. Looking deep into her eyes, he seemed to completely melt away when she kissed his bottom lip, sighing against him as she herself started getting closer to her second orgasm as well.
“I’ll help you,” Harry said. “I’ll use my hand, if you want?”
“Yes, please.”
He removed his cock from inside her, meeting her eyes as his thumb circled her clit again. Y/N gasped, gripping both sides of Harry’s neck. His lips parted at the pressure, grinning up at her. He brought his other hand forward, slipping his index and ring finger into her while his other thumb continued to flick at her clit. At once she moaned, looking into his eyes as this brought her closer to her climax, fast. She moved with his hand, moaning louder and louder as the fire inside her tummy intensified, feeling even greater than the time before. Harry curled his finger just as he leaned down, sucking on her nipple again, looking up at her through hooded eyes.
Everything exploded and she threw her head back, unable to stop herself. The sound of Harry pounding into her at a fast speed, wet and filthy, echoed through the room with her exclamation of euphoria. Harry continued till she was completely done, watching her as she closed her eyes, breathing heavily above him. Gently, he removed his fingers from inside her, bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean just as she opened her eyes again.
Y/N felt at peace. Her heart was still thundering away inside her chest, her soul was still intermingled with Harry’s, and they would not let go of one another. They didn’t need that lamp, they didn’t need a lighthouse, they could light up everything on their own. She was sure that at some point tonight, while their bodies grinded together and worked toward climax, they had lit up like the sun. What was going on between them, the cellular reaction, the emotional connection, the physical attraction, it all equated to something. It had to. What this was, was greater than either of them individually. This would forever be marked on their souls. Meeting Harry, spending this summer with him, it had shaped her into a brand-new person. That was, Y/N reminded herself, what love was all about after all. Change for the better.
Harry got a cloth not long after, helping clean Y/N up before they both slipped under the duvet in the lightkeeper room, squished together as the bed was way smaller than what they were used to. Harry ran his hand from Y/N’s cheek and up to her shoulder, his eyes following his hand’s movement.
“I fucking worship you, Y/N,” Harry mumbled, the rain still pouring outside. He caressed his fingers gently over her jawline.
She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around him. They both closed their eyes and Y/N felt sleep coming closer. She felt so incredibly content, cuddled up to Harry and with the storm raging outside. A couple a seconds away from falling asleep, Harry started whispering against her forehead.
“Play fair with my heart, yeah?” It seemed like he thought she was asleep. That it was safe to say this. “’Cause I’m gonna fall in love with you. You don’t have to love me back, but I’m telling you now, ‘cause it’s inevitable, at one point, I’ll love you. Madly, truly, completely. Just… please… break my heart gently.”
Before she was able to form any sort of reply, she fell asleep.
A/N: If you wonder what the melody Harry wrote for that day spent in St Austell with Y/N and Gracie sounds like, I imagine it goes something like this 🥰
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WIP Things aka Unofficial Fic Tease
In order to remind myself that I’ve left all of you hanging for the rest of my trilogy rewrite, I thought I would post my unbeta’d, unedited, good with the bad chapter 1 for the second movie. I also have hope that it will make me feel guilty for taking so damn long and get back to it. Especially since I’ve basically closed myself off from writing (and the muses) and I’m trying to pry the doors back open because I really do miss sharing my stories with you guys.
I wrote this well over a year ago, along with a 2nd chapter that deals with the Dean’s office, and really just hope you like it.
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About Damn Time
Chapter One: So That Happened
Word Count: 2600
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~B~
At the end of Beca’s junior year, two things of note happened.
First: Chloe, once again, made the decision to stay with Beca and the Bellas and failed Russian Lit for the third time. Beca had tried to talk her out of it, torn between wanting Chloe to move forward in her life beyond Barden and guilt that she was relieved they wouldn’t have to figure out how to work a long distance relationship. She wasn’t ready to try that and couldn’t imagine leading the group without her. But Chloe had insisted this was where she’d wanted to be and she didn’t feel like she was missing out on anything.
Second: The Bellas were asked to perform at President Obama’s 50th birthday celebration at the Kennedy Center on August 8th.
Beca had laughed when the call had come through the never used landline at the Bella house.
“Good afternoon, this is Mack Johnson and I’m calling on behalf of the White House…”
“Yeah right. Nice try, Jesse.” She hung up and pulled out her cell phone as she walked into the kitchen. Pausing by the counter she typed out a quick message to him.
Beca:
I’ve gotta give you points for originality though. You almost sounded like an actual adult.
She poured herself a glass of lemonade before he answered.
Jesse:
I’m going to take that as a compliment and ignore the wound to my manly pride, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Beca:
Whatever you say, ‘Mack.’ If you’d said you were calling from anywhere but the White House I might’ve let you keep talking.
Instead of answering via text, Jesse called her.
“Are you day drinking, Mitchell?” Jesse clucked his tongue. “Without your lesbro? I’m hurt, Becaw.”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Beca lifted her glass and took a sip. “What inspired your call today?”
“Uh, your cryptic and confusing texts to me, of course.” Jesse chuckled. “Want to clue me in?”
Beca sighed. “Man you’re committed to this.”
“To what?”
Beca set her glass on the counter. “Fine – you just called me and –” She jumped as the phone in the living room rang for only the second time in her years at Barden. “Pretended… to be… from the White House.”
“I thought you said you weren’t drinking?” Jesse laughed but it sounded distant as Beca watched Chloe answer the phone.
Her girlfriend’s blue eyes went wide and locked on Beca’s as she said, “I’m sorry, did you say you’re calling from the White House?”
“Jesse?” Beca said absently.
“Yes, Beca?” His voice took on an echo as all the blood drained from her face.
“I gotta go pass out now.” She swallowed dryly. “I’ll call you later.”
“Beca wa-”
Beca had remained frozen in the kitchen while Chloe became more and more animated, frantically scribbling down notes on the notepad sitting beside the phone, though her voice was carefully calm and collected. Then she’d run into the kitchen, screaming and jumping in excitement and talking faster than Beca’s shocked mind could process. Drawn by the commotion like a frat boy to a kegger, the rest of the girls soon joined the chaos while Beca still stood frozen by the counter as they swirled around her.
The school had allowed them to stay on campus through the summer so they could discuss songs and choreography. The time had been a whirlwind of security checks and practice and everything they planned needed to be vetted by the performance organizers. Of course, since they’d come to the Bellas after their third ICCA win in a row, there weren’t any real problems.
Until the night of the performance when one set of tangled silks and a desire for no panty lines wrecked everything.
No pun intended.
~B~
Sunday, August 24th, 2014
Beca lay on their bed and stared at the ceiling, listening to Chloe pace beside her.
“I’ve ruined everything.” Pace to the head of the bed. “Destroyed our reputation.” Pace back to the foot. “Made the Bellas a joke.”
Beca sighed and pushed herself up on her elbows. “Chloe. It’s a capella. It’s already a jo-” She stopped as Chloe spun to face her, outraged. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Beca tried a smile. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.” She let it slip when Chloe just stared at her and Beca dropped back down to gaze at the ceiling. “Won’t make that mistake again.”
“I’m the one who gave Amy the green-light to do ‘Wrecking Ball.’” Chloe resumed pacing.
“Because, despite most of her claims, she actually had done some training on the silks before coming to the states.” Beca countered, as she had for the past three weeks. “She was good on them and never once in our rehearsals did she get tangled up.”
“But-”
“No.” Beca cut her off and sat up, pulling her legs up to sit cross legged and face her. “We all agreed to let her do it. It was a group vote.” She softened her voice and held out her hand. “This isn’t all on you, Chlo.”
With a sigh, Chloe took her hand and let herself be tugged onto the bed. Beca stretched back out and Chloe settled against her side. “It feels like it.”
“That’s because you’re the one who looks out for us.” Beca gently rubbed her back. “No one could’ve predicted this, love.”
“No…” Chloe said grudgingly. “But…”
Beca cut her off again. “There’s no buts.”
“Except Amy’s.” Chloe huffed, tension that had begun to fade making her stiffen up again in Beca’s arms. “All over the news.” She groaned. “Why didn’t I just use the cloth I was freaking holding to cover her up?”
“Same reason I didn’t,” Beca said reasonably, having heard a version of this several times before. “My mind went blank and I couldn’t move. I just… kept waiting to wake up.”
“Same.” Chloe pressed her nose to Beca’s shoulder. “I still am. This is such a nightmare.”
“She feels bad.” Beca offered. “It was her idea to do that press conference.” She winced as Chloe snorted.
“Yeah, where she then tried to show her ‘silk burn’ to the entire world.” Chloe sat up and pushed herself off the bed. “Again.” She resumed pacing and Beca’s mind hunted around for anything she could say to defuse things.
“At least we saved Aubrey’s college legacy from Pukegate?” Even as the words were out of her mouth Beca knew they were stupid and wrong.
“And ruined ours with Muffgate.” Chloe snarled.
“I wish I could find the asshole that came up with that. Bet it was those podcast people and of course everyone else jumped on it.” Beca made a face. “It was an accident and eventually there will be another crisis for them to focus on.” She slid over to the edge of the bed and swung her legs over. “It won’t be forever, Chlo.”
Pace, turn. “But tomorrow we go see the Dean.” Pace, turn. “With those podcast people who are apparently actually part of the Collegiate A Cappella Association.”
“They’re still weird and he’s an ass.” Beca stood up and stretched as she heard the door open at the bottom of the stairs. “Think you’ll be able to enjoy yourself at dinner tonight?”
Chloe stopped by the small table they inherited from Aubrey and took a deep breath. “Of course. It’s Amy’s birthday. I’m not going to ruin it for her.” She flashed Beca a small grin, the first in an hour. “Why do you think I’m up here instead of downstairs?”
“Speaking of,” a new voice said from the stairs. “There’s maybe… A situation.” Jessica smiled apologetically when they both looked at her as she reached the top.
Beca sighed. “Of course there is.”
“Do I even want to know?” Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Probably not, but Stacie sent me to get you.”
“Coward,” Beca muttered. “She knows I can’t hit you because you’re too nice.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, quick like ripping off a band-aid.”
“Amy’s sitting on the couch. With a towel on her lap.” Jessica hesitated.
“That’s… Why is that a big deal?” Chloe asked, confused.
“She’s… commando. Because of her silk burn.” The blonde’s shoulders bounced once but she didn’t say anything else.
“I swear to fucking god I’m going to glue underwear on her,” Chloe muttered under her breath.
Beca was struck by a horrible thought. “Is she sitting on another towel?”
“We were afraid she’d show us if we asked.” Jessica looked at Beca. “That’s when Stacie sent me to get you.”
“Why do I have to do it?” Beca knew she was whining but couldn’t help it.
“Because you’re the captain.” Jessica shrugged again. “You can threaten her with cardio if she tries to flash us again.”
“Yeah but Amy doesn’t always listen to me and I don’t want to have flashbacks.” Beca reluctantly headed for the stairs as Jessica started back down.
“Birthday or not…” Chloe muttered as she followed.
“I’m sure Lilly has a hot glue gun you can use,” Beca mused, not surprised to find Ashley hanging out in the hallway when they left the attic.
“Don’t tempt me.” Chloe didn’t say anything else the entire trip down the stairs.
Beca rounded the corner, passing Jessica and Ashley who had stopped in the entry and came to a halt herself, Chloe running into her back.
All she could see was the back of Amy’s head but she appeared to be looking straight at Lilly who sat cross-legged on the ottoman and staring back.
“Do I even want to know?” Beca turned her head toward Jessica but didn’t take her eyes off the scene.
“I didn’t ask that either,” came the whispered reply.
Beca took a bracing breath then walked into the living room. Despite the reassurance that the covering towel existed, Beca didn’t relax until she saw it for herself. It was nothing personal against Amy, but Beca just didn’t want to see any of the Bellas naked, Chloe being the obvious exception. You never knew when the visual would pop back in your head and Amy had already shown up enough in the past few weeks to last a lifetime.
“Amy.” Beca looked up at a sound from the kitchen and saw Stacie leaning in the doorway with Cynthia Rose and Flo sitting at the center island.
“Captain.” Amy didn’t turn her head or avert her gaze.
“Are you guys in a staring contest?” Beca frowned, looking between the two women. “And if so why?”
“I don’t know,” Amy lifted one shoulder. “All I know is she hasn’t blinked since she sat down and why take the risk of losing.”
Beca felt her eyes twitch at the thought. “Jesus, please cut it out before my eyes start watering.” She stepped between them and Amy closed her eyes in relief.
“Thanks, Shawshank. That was starting to burn.” She started to lift one corner of the towel to wipe her eyes and Beca threw out her hand.
“Nope. That stays there.” Chloe said it before Beca could.
“Please tell me you’re sitting on another towel.” Beca sighed and ran her hand through her hair.
“Of course I am!” Amy actually looked indignant. “I’m not a heathen, Beca.” She rolled her eyes. “The pants I want to wear to dinner are tight, so I’m giving my bits time to breathe first.”
“Now that’s in my head.” Cynthia Rose muttered from the kitchen.
“That’s in all our heads,” Ashley said from the doorway behind them.
“You could always wear that blue skirt,” Chloe offered diplomatically. “That way you’re not uncomfortable for your birthday dinner.”
“I do look hot in that.” Amy thought about it while the rest of them made sounds of agreement. “Alright, you’ve swayed me. And as it’s almost that time, guess I’ll go upstairs and change.” She started to stand as Beca moved back then paused. “If you’d all turn around and give me some privacy while I wrap?”
Beca rolled her eyes as she turned to face the front window that, thankfully, had the curtains drawn. “That’s what you get for being half naked in the public areas of the house.”
“I got bored in my room.” Beca heard Amy stand up and the rustle of fabric. “Alright, I’m decent.”
“Hey!”
Beca jumped at the unexpected shout and looked over her shoulder. Stacie had come out of the kitchen and was pointing at the couch.
“That’s my favorite towel!” Outage filled her face. “I was looking for that for over a week!”
“It’s also the softest towel in the house.” Amy said as she picked it up, tucking the other firmly around her waist. “It’s the only thing that doesn’t hurt when I’m sitting.”
A choked sound from behind her brought Beca’s eyes back around to Chloe, who was biting the inside of her cheek and trying not to giggle. “I’m sure she’ll wash it before she gives it back.”
Beca tried to choke back her laugh and ended up sounding like a pug with a cold as she snickered into her hand.
“I think…” Stacie sighed. “Happy Birthday, Amy. It’s all yours.”
“You sure, Stretch?” Amy threw the towel in question over her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll need it for much longer.”
“Yup.” Stacie nodded emphatically. “I’ll go get another one this weekend.”
“Thanks, Stacie.” Amy smiled at her before her lips twisted slightly. “Sorry I didn’t ask first.”
“’S okay.” Stacie shrugged. “Now go get changed so we can celebrate your day.”
“Are you allowed to give me orders on my birthday?” Amy mused as she headed for the stairs.
“Probably not,” Beca said. “But I’ll probably do it anyway.”
“Bossy.” Chloe whispered behind her and Beca flashed her a grin.
“Alright.” Beca clapped her hands once. “Show’s over, let’s go get our party outfits on and get some grub. We’ve got a Bella to celebrate.”
Stacie walked past her, shaking her head. “Bossy.”
Beca let her head fall back as she stared at the ceiling. “I can’t with you two.”
“What?” Stacie paused in the door to the entry. “Did we do the thing again?”
“Yup.” Chloe pushed Beca toward the stairs. “I called her that thirty seconds ago.” She high fived Stacie over Beca’s shoulder when the tall woman grinned and held out her hand.
“Score one for us.” Stacie laughed and started up the stairs.
“I hate you guys.” Beca said weakly as she followed.
“Liar,” Chloe laughed and ran her hand down Beca’s back.
“Maybe.” Beca let Chloe go before her.
“Definitely.”
“Yeah yeah,” Beca waved her up the stairs, unable to help admiring the way Chloe’s muscles flexed as she moved. “But seriously, my stomach just woke up and if I don’t feed it soon it’s going to take over the world.”
“Aye aye, Captain.” Stacie saluted as she stepped into her room.
“Smartass,” Beca threw back.
“And you love it.” Stacie closed the door with a laugh.
“Stop flirting with Stacie and let’s go change before you get hangry.” Chloe took her hand and tugged on it.
“She wishes,” Beca muttered but followed Chloe up to their room, ignoring the ‘Often’ that came from Stacie’s room behind them.
‘She’s got bat hearing, I swear.’ Beca thought to herself as she went to the closet to get her outfit for the night.
Tomorrow was still looming over them, but Beca pushed it all away, determined to think about Amy and the Bellas for the rest of the night.
It was one mistake and they’d just won three years in a row. Surely they weren’t in that much trouble.
Right?
#bechloe#beca mitchell#chloe beale#all the other bellas#rise 1#cyc fic tease#cyc motivational seeker
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Something Happened in Bali eps 1-2 rewatch thoughts
It's really interesting, rewatching this. God, I'd almost forgotten how much I love Jo In Sung. LOVE. I mean, I love him and his nervous energy so much that I don't even notice So Ji Sub, who normally I really like. (ide note - A Dirty Carnival was the best Korean movie I have ever seen, and what made me truly and utterly lose it for him - but it was so brutally hopeless, it made me depressed for days. Go watch!)
Anyway, back to the drama.
1. I'd almost forgotten how unpleasant the two guys and Other Girl are in this, at the start. None of them are monsters (though by the end the Secondary Girl comes close, IMO, even if I end up feeling a repelled kind of pity for her) but they are all in their selfish shells - it's little things, like not helping Soo Jung with her heavy bag or treating her as an extra in their lives. Even their kindness is this thoughtless kind. It's funny because I am not sure if they change in niceness quotient that much (though both the men become much more desperately vulnerable, especially Jae Min) but I guess I get to know them so well and their reasons for being the way they are, I sort of end up not caring - I end up adoring Jae Min as a character, especially, so much. Even if he is the biggest trainwreck I have ever seen as a kdrama lead in my 15+ years of watching kdramas.
2. Soo Jung. I adore her. You could see how annoyed she is she is dealing with the tour group from hell (the other 3) but the way she pushes and carries on is WONDERFUL. So is her drunken camaraderie with Jae Min. She is in another universe from the poised, iced, controlled Young Joo. But it's interesting, she seems so (relatively) well-adjusted compared to the rest of them but as the drama unfolds, you see that this hard-earned cheerfulness is a facade and she is very broken too - between her and Jae Min, I am not sure, which one is more screwed-up. For him, it's his family, but for her, it's her poverty that has made her so. Ha Ji Won SLAYS in this role (so do the rest of the cast, of course.) She’s rough, she’s desperate, she’s grasping, she’s vulnerable, she’s irresistible - in other hands you would never get how two screwed-up, closed-off men would fall so desperately for someone so greedy, so grasping, so flawed - but here you are drawn to her vividness, to her joy, to her intensity, to her unique combo of sunshine and extreme damage.
3. You know, there are hints about her screwed-upness even this early on - the scene where Jae Min offers her $$$ for a one-night stand and she calls him a jerk (and you see by his reaction he doesn't even understand that what he said was insulting - he is puzzled. In his world, everything can be bought and sold, and there is no such thing as affection.) and then asks whether he is going to pay before or after. In her world, there is no room for the grand gesture, for throwing money in his face. She leaves only because he kicks her out (giving her money but not doing anything) telling her to buy her new shoes (hers are broken) and saying "it's not fun any more" (the first of many instances she really throws him off any usual ways he deals with things). And then she trips on her broken heels walking out, sprawling in the lobby, inelegantly grabbing and picking up money.
4. One of the biggest delights of this rewatch for me is contrasting in my head the way Jae Min is going to be with her later - utterly desperate and "brought down" and willing to beg and beg and beg, and the way he is now - emotionally detached, with all the 'power' on his side - I mean, contrast his propositioning her for that one-night stand and the scene where they finally make love, a dozen eps from now. Though she is totally rattling him even now - I love the scene where he first truly notices her - seeing her in the parking lot trying to fix her shoes, eating, and drinking. She is just so REAL and alive and immediate. No wonder he's caught (and then quickly looks away).
5. Jae Min's father needs to die in a fire after being slowly cut with a myriad of razors - the scene in his office in ep 2 where he is practicing golf in his office and Jae Min flinches any time the golf club is in his vicinity, and almost stutters, just - RAGE. Increased 1000x by what I know he does later. But I confess to being amused in the scene where he is throwing things at Jae Min during the board meeting and a flunkie keeps moving things up to him to throw - folders, bottle of water, so he won't run out of things - a definition of a brown-noser.
6. I love how oddly real this drama feels in its filming - people are not glamorized within an inch of their lives and there is no glossiness, no studied detachment, no appeal to coolness or w/e. It is what it is and it knows it. God, I love this drama!
7. (The below is spoilery for the whole thing) Bali has the distinction of having the most dysfunctional couple I have ever shipped. Years of therapy were needed for those two. Yes, my OTP was Jae Min/Soo Jung, despite the fact that the otp's end was murder/suicide. I don't care, I still shipped them - the ending of the drama is one of my favorite drama moments, in actuality - Jae Min becoming more and more unhinged because of his nightmarish family and then finally he believes Soo Jung just played him in order to scam money and ruin his family with her lover. He tracks them down to Bali and finds them in bed. Ironically, Soo Jung has just finished telling her lover that she wants to leave him and go back to Korea to look for Jae Min because it's him she wants. Jae Min, of course, does not hear her (and he is so catatonic at that point, I doubt it would have registered if he did hear).
So he shoots her and her lover dead as they lie there. But while her lover is dead asap, Soo Jung has time to look at Jae Min and tell him 'saranghae' which is about the most awesome thing ever - she has never ever told him she loved him before, not through all his efforts to win her heart, not even when they made love. And now she is telling him as she is dying, because it's important to her for him to know before she dies - there are no games or conditions. And of course, Jae Min snapped out of it as soon as he shot and he is falling apart as is and then he hears her tell him she loves him and his face - oh my God. And he goes outside and kills himself and I sit there bawling and hoping his horrific family all have collective heart attacks and die.
Yes. I ship THAT. I don't care what it makes me. The drama makes no bones that Jae Min is beyond messed up - I am kinda amazed he is walking and talking, to be honest. His father wins the incontrovertible award for the worst kdrama father ever and if you know kdramas you know what a feat that is. The scene where Jae Min is on his knees in front of his father, weeping and begging to be allowed to have Soo Jung and his father beats him half into unconsciousness and then tells him it's Soo Jung's fault and he will go after her next and make her disappear and Jae Min is left pleading that he did not mean it and it's not Soo Jung's fault and he misunderstood? FLAMES. FLAMES WHEN I JUST THINK ABOUT IT.
So his love for Soo Jung is no help - I don't think any woman could have 'fixed' him, and certainly the hugely messed-up despite her sunny demeanor Soo Jung, with her own major issues and fragility, was about the last person to do so. However, even if they could have worked out their happiness, with the help of some really high-priced therapy, his family made it impossible - in fact they turned the screws on even worse, not caring that their actions were plainly driving him into nonfunctionality land. But then - how else could it end with all the destruction and damage and desperation on both sides and his having no experience with any expression of love that was not entangled with violence. And in context of fiction, the OTP that has the potential for helping each other but dooms each other instead is my jam SO MUCH!
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All for Jonah and Cecil, as well as Ethan pretty please for the get to know an oc :)
Favorites - you can tell a lot about a person by what they like:
1. Candy?
Jonah: Mike & Ike's Hot Tamales
Cecil: Skittle - Jolene got him hooked on them. She told him that since he couldn't see a rainbow he could at least know what one tas
Ethan: Twizzlers
2. Kind of pizza?
Jonah: veggie pizza
Cecil: sausage and black olive
Ethan: meat lovers pizza
3. Flavor of donut?
Jonah: boston creme
Cecil: chocolate sprinkles
Ethan: glazed donuts
4. Amusement park/carnival activity?
Jonah: watching the kids having fun riding the rides and meeting the performers, ect
Cecil: being with his chosen family, enjoying their laughter and excited voices.
Ethan: the arcade and games trying to beat the best scores and winning the prizes.
6. Pair of shoes?
Jonah: all of them. He loves his shoes. He has quite an impressive collection of shoes.
Cecil: a pair of Ugg boots to wear in the snow. He's so excited for his trip to Mt. Komorebi
Ethan: his bunny slippers
7. Type of weather?
Jonah: the first snow of the season.
Cecil: feeling the sunshine on his face
Ethan: a good thunderstorm
8. Bird?
Jonah: Swans
Cecil: Mourning Dove
Ethan: Eagle
9. Scent?
Jonah: fresh laundry, especially fresh clean sheets.
Cecil: The way the air smells after a spring rain or the salty spray of the ocean
Ethan: fresh baked apple pie
10. Color?
Jonah: White
Cecil: he hasn't ever seen color before so it's hard for him to choose a favorite.
Ethan: Blue
11. Subject in school?
Jonah: music
Cecil: he never went to school but if he had he would have enjoyed everything. Dragon's love knowledge.
Ethan: lunch
This got really long so the rest in under the read more. I tried to keep the answers to where we are at in the story. Some things may change as the characters grow and change. Plus I'm trying not to give away spoilers. @mahvaladara I guessed on some of the answers for Cecil so if it's wrong or you want to add to it let me know.
Routines - who are they in the day-to-day:
1. Do they put the milk or the cereal first in the bowl?
Jonah: who would put milk before the cereal?
Cecil: I did once ...
Ethan: we were cleaning milk up for days
Jonah: no we weren't (glares at Ethan)
2. What do they wear to bed?
Jonah: boxers
Cecil: pajamas
Ethan: boxers
3. Do they sing in the shower? What’s their go-to song (or karaoke song)?
Jonah: (blushes slightly) yes
Cecil: what is that song you sing?
Ethan: You are my Sunshine
Cecil: yes, so pretty. Will you sing it for me?
Jonah: (moving towards the piano) I'll play it for you. You and Ethan can sing it.
4. Right-handed or left-handed?
Jonah: right handed
Cecil: (frowns) you don't use both?
Ethan: not all of us are dragons.
Cecil: that is obvious
5. What is their preferred caffeine source and how do they take it?
Jonah: energy drinks.
Cecil: chocolate
Ethan: pop
6. What are their sleep habits like?
Jonah: normal I think.
Ethan: except the nightmares
Jonah: shrugs
Ethan: you should take your sleeping pills
Cecil: growls
7. What song is likely to be in their Most Played list?
Jonah: currently I'm listening to Eli's songs. He asked me for advise on how he could make it better. Instead I'm lookfing for ways to help him realize his vision for what he wants his song to say.
Cecil: Much like I'm doing for you and you're music
Ethan: Holding Out for a Hero
8. How do they relax after a stressful day?
Jonah: playing the piano
Cecil: reading to the twins while Jonah plays
Ethan: watching TV
9. What do they do first thing in the morning?
Jonah: brush my teeth then make breakfast for everyone
Cecil: help Jonah with breakfast
Ethan: take a shower while they're making breakfast
10. What’s the last thing they do before they go to bed?
Jonah: brush my teeth
Ethan: try to get Jonah to take his pills
Cecil: growls
11. Do they have any addictions (or former addictions)?
Together: no
Cecil: sideeyes Ethan but remains silent.
Ethan: pretends not to notice
12. What are their bad habits?
Jonah: um I guess not putting myself first sometimes. I'm always putting everyone else first that I've lost myself.
Cecil: I collect too many things; especially books but I can't see how that could be considered a bad things. Books are good.
Ethan: I suppose some would say I'm selfish.
13. What’s something they have to do everyday (besides eating/taking medications/basic self-care)?
Jonah: play the piano. Can't help it. I have to play it.
Cecil: read. Now that I know how I have so much to learn.
Ethan: Check on Jonah. Make sure he's not overdoing it and stuff...
Cecil: growls warningly
14. Are there any phrases or gestures they overuse?
Jonah: I've been accused of saying "I'm sorry" too often. Even for things I have no reason to be sorry for.
Cecil: you have no reason to be sorry for your feelings.
Ethan: depends on whether they really are his feelings and not the product of someone coaching him.
Jonah: that's not what's happening....
15. What do they keep in their pockets/bag/glove compartment?
Jonah: first aid kit in case the kids fall and hurt themselves.
Ethan: Jonah's pills. Never know when he may need them.
Cecil: he doesn't need them
Ethan: so you say but I can see the stress he's under
Philosophy - reflections on the greater world:
1. Do they believe in soulmates or fate?
Jonah: soulmates definitely. I hate to think I was fated to go through all this pain.
Cecil: maybe it was fate. Maybe you meant to save me.
Ethan: glares at them feeling very much like a thirdwheel
2. Do they believe they have a destiny? What is it?
Jonah: no (firmly shaking his head)
Cecil: (gives him a curious look) our destiny is intertwined. Yours was to save me. Mine is to help you find yourself.
Ethan: my destiny is to protect Jonah.
Cecil: do better.
3. What are five things that always make them happy?
Jonah: my kids, Cecil, music, Peaches and um ... I guess Ethan
Cecil: you don't need to include him....
Jonah: I know I just (gives a self -conscious shrug)
Cecil: Jonah, the kids, being free, learning to read, and snow.
Ethan: all I need to be happy is Jonah
4. What is the quickest way to their heart?
Jonah: feeling that I'm heard. That someone is actually listening to me.
Cecil: someone who keeps their promises. Jonah is good at keeping his promises.
Ethan: someone who needs me.
5. What’s one thing they would change about themselves?
Jonah: how I see myself. I want to see myself the way Cecil see's me. Strong. A hero instead of the helpless one.
Cecil: to be able to see with my eyes. I'd love to really see the children's faces ... Jonah's face.
Ethan: that I was the hero I want to be.
6. If they had three wishes (standard genie rules apply) what would they wish for?
Jonah: I wish people really truly heard me, I wish for my kids to be happy and that Cecil could see with his eyes with as much depth as he sees with his heart.
Cecil: I wish I could fly to give the children rides, I wish they were my family, I wish for Jonah to be heard.
Ethan: I wish Jonah to be well, I wish that he hadn't been taken and I wish he would look at me the way he used to.
7. What are their views on death?
Jonah: it's the end of one journey and start of another
Cecil: it's a new realm of existence
Ethan: I don't like to think about. I don't want to die alone.
8. What do they value above all else?
Jonah: my kids
Cecil: Jonah and the kids. My chosen family.
Ethan: I can take care of MY family. I know what's best for them and Jonah.
9. Are they superstitious?
Jonah: (shaking his head) I don't think so. I think things just happen not because you broke a mirror or a black cat crossed your path.
Cecil: some things are more mystical than others. You just need to be able to read them.
Ethan: some things are just bad luck. Like nothing has been the same since Cecil showed up.
10. Do they have a creed or code that they live by?
Jonah: the golden rule. You know treat others the way you want to be treated.
Cecil: failure is not final
Ethan: I don't know. To keep things the same, controlled, calm.
Other:
1. Can they ride a bike? A skateboard? A horse?
Jonah: I can ride a bike and skateboard. Never went horseback riding
Cecil: no
Jonah: maybe one day we can go horseback riding together.
Ethan: that would be a sight to see.
Jonah: don't be like that. It'd be fun. We could hire a carraige or something or he could ride behind me.
2. How would their best friend describe them?
Jonah: (turning to Cecil) how would you describe me
Ethan: why does he get to describe you? I'm your husband.
Jonah: yeah? They asked for my best friend.
Ethan: I though I was both
Jonah: um ... it's not the same.
Cecil: Jonah saved me. He's my hero. A hero. He's stronger than people believe he is. Everyone underestimates him and don't listen to what he wants. And you (turns to glare at Ethan) smother and choke out all the brilliant fire around so that only you can shine.
3. What’s something they do to indulge or treat themselves?
Jonah: play the piano or take a bubble bath
Cecil: read. Books I love books. Learning everything I can.
Ethan: um ... join Jonah in the bath with a little wine and soft music
4. Would they rather be a pirate, a cowboy, a ninja, or an astronaut?
Jonah: I always wanted to be a pirate when I was a kid
Cecil: a pirate would be fun. All that treasure!
Ethan: I don't like those options. I'd rather be a superhero.
5. What would they name their children (or pets if they wouldn’t want children)?
Jonah/Ethan: we already have 4 kids (Eli, Jolene, Ezekial and Ephraim and one dog, Peaches)
Cecil: If I had children I'd choose Chandrayg and Juniper
Ask your own
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wings: day 3 of @starrynightdeancas 's 2k followers celebration ✨ (ao3)
when i saw the wings prompt, i didn't think i would end up writing meet cute au, but here we are (wc: ~2000)
Thursdays are Dean's favorite day to be at conferences. Usually, there's only a partial day of events, and some people skip it altogether. Once the conference is in full swing, he'll be busy bouncing from talks to lunches to happy hours to dinners with people he only sort of knows. But on Thursdays, he can breathe.
Conferences certainly aren't his favorite part of being a professor. He's kind of a homebody, so the travel and socializing is a little much for him, especially when air travel is involved. But he does like exploring new cities, so he makes the best of it.
That's how he finds himself wandering around downtown Thursday evening. The streets are bustling with the after-work crowd.
Dean pauses when he passes one of those huge angel wing murals that he sees all over the internet. There are a couple of teenage girls standing there posing and giggling. Dean chuckles, and once the girls run off, he snaps a picture of it. His best friend, Jo, loves gimmicky tourist things like that, so he sends the picture off to her, along with a wish you were here text.
"Excuse me, would you mind taking my photo? If you have a moment, of course," a deep voice asks him. Dean looks up to see a man standing there, looking at him hopefully and gesturing behind him toward the mural. He feels his jaw drop open for a second when his eyes rest on the man's face. He's gorgeous. Dark, messy hair and piercing blue eyes that make Dean feel like he's melting into a puddle.
But Dean raises his eyebrow slightly when the question registers in his brain. This guy doesn't really look like the type to want a picture in front of a cotton candy-colored mural of angel wings. He looks to be about Dean's age. He's wearing a full suit with a trench coat on top, despite the summer heat. He realizes he's still staring when the guy clears his throat.
"Sorry for bothering you, I'll find someone else," the man says with a slight nod before beginning to turn away.
"No, no, wait, I'll do it!" Dean says, feeling bad for basically ignoring the guy while checking him out. "You just surprised me. Took my brain a second to process."
The man smiles at him. "Thank you, I appreciate it," he says, handing his phone to Dean. The camera app is already open.
Dean gives him a small smile back. "Not to be weird about it, but you don't really seem like the angel wing mural type."
"Ah, I'm not," he says dryly. Sensing Dean's confusion, probably, he adds, "I sent my daughter a photo of the mural earlier. She's been bombarding me all day with requests that I take a photo in front of it."
Dean smiles wider at that. The man's eyes light up as he's talking about his daughter, and Dean's smitten by how cute it is. "Totally get it, man. If my niece was old enough to text, she'd probably do the same to me." He thinks of little Mary, running around the house in a princess dress and fairy wings as Eileen tries to catch her. Maybe he should take one for her, too. "I've got you." He glances down at the guy's chest and adds, "Take off your badge first."
"What?" the man asks, clearly confused.
Dean pulls his matching conference badge out of his pocket. The lanyards attached to all of the badges this year are a horrid shade of neon orange. "This," Dean says, shaking it slightly, "Take yours off for the picture."
"Oh… thank you," he says, pulling off the lanyard and shoving it into a pocket of his trench coat. He walks in the direction of the mural. He turns and faces Dean, mouth in a straight line.
Dean snaps the photo and frowns. The dude doesn't look happy, despite the joy that was in his eyes when he mentioned his daughter. "Smile, dude! This is for your kid!" Dean says loudly.
The man huffs slightly, but then his mouth splits into a gummy smile, eyes crinkling at the edges. The smile is infectious, and Dean can't help the one that spreads across his own face in response. He takes a couple more photos before he gestures for the guy to come back over. He does and Dean returns his phone.
"Mind taking one of me? Looked at it long enough that I want to send one to my niece anyway."
"Yes, of course," the man replies, taking Dean's offered phone.
Dean smiles and poses (hands on his hips, like a superhero), and there's a good chance the picture captures the laugh that comes out when he hears the other man chuckle.
He walks back over and retrieves his phone. Then, he offers his hand for a handshake. "So I guess we're in town for the same conference. Dean Winchester. It's nice to meet you."
"Castiel Novak," he replies, grasping Dean's hair and shaking it firmly. "It's nice to meet you as well." He pauses for a moment, and his eyes widen with something that looks like recognition. "Dean Winchester. I just read your new paper, Bradbury and Winchester. It was fascinating."
"Hey, thanks, man," Dean says with a grin, "but if I'm being honest, almost all the credit for that one should go to my grad student, Charlie. She's the best."
"Well, it's a testament to your teaching that one of your students can produce such excellent research," Castiel says, and Dean blushes at the words. "I would love to be able to teach like that someday."
"Are you not a professor?" Dean asks. Maybe he misjudged the guy's age.
"No, I actually only recently completed my doctorate. It took a little longer than I'd hoped, but I had to take some time away from schooling for my daughter." Dean nods in understanding. A handful of people he knows had a baby during graduate school and it definitely did not make the experience any easier for them. "I'm beginning a postdoctoral fellowship at the University of Kansas next month, though."
"Oh, no way, that's where I teach!" Dean says. When he sees the glint of amusement in Castiel's eyes, he says, "But you already knew that. Because you just read my paper."
"I did. Different department than you, though. I'll be working with Professor Cain."
Dean smiles. "He's great, you'll like working with him." Before he can continue, Dean's stomach decides to punctuate his sentence with a loud grumble. "Uh, any interest in grabbing dinner? I'm starving, and I'd like to hear more about what you do if we're gonna be colleagues soon."
"Sure, I'd like that, Professor Winchester," Castiel says.
Dean scoffs. "You're uninvited if you call me that, Cas. Just Dean."
"Dean. Okay, let's go," he says, a small smile curling at the edges of his lips. They walk for a while, chatting a little about food and the city until they stumble upon a restaurant that sounds good to both of them.
Once they've ordered, Cas pulls out his phone. "I hope my daughter appreciates the picture," he says, swiping at the screen as he looks through the photos Dean took. He might have gotten a little carried away; there's a bunch. "I don't want to receive another photo of her pouting at me."
Dean chuckles. He pulls out his own phone to send his mural photo to his brother and sister-in-law. Cas also took a few, but he selects one where he's laughing extra hard. Took this for Princess Mary, tell her I love her, he texts to accompany the photo. "I'm sure she'll love it. How many pouting photos did you get?"
Cas hums, tapping a few times on his phone as Dean watches. "It appears… six." He turns his phone around to Dean. The name at the top of the text message thread reads Claire🐝 and he can already see two of the pictures. Cas's daughter, Claire, looks a little older than he expected. That, combined with the heavy eyeliner, doesn't make her seem like the kind of kid that would beg her dad to take a picture with an angel wing mural. Cas scrolls slightly and Dean sees a slew of please dad and you gotta! text messages, interspersed with more pictures of her frowning. It's kind of adorable.
"How old is she?" Dean asks.
"Fifteen," Cas answers. Dean opens his mouth, but closes it again when Cas continues, "I know, I don't look old enough to have a daughter her age. I get that a lot."
"Sorry," Dean mumbles. "No need to explain, I was just surprised."
Cas shrugs. "It's okay. Accidental pregnancy with my high school girlfriend back when we were both trying to convince ourselves that we were straight." Cas immediately blushes. "Sorry, too much information. I had already switched out of professional mode for the evening, and I forgot that we technically work together."
"You're in good company. No judgment from me. You won't be the only one out of the closet when you get there." He winks and then grimaces internally. He hadn't meant to start flirting.
Cas's eyes widen and then soften. "Thank you, Dean. I'm glad I haven't made a total fool of myself." His phone buzzes on the table and he picks it up. He smiles that wide, bright smile again, the one that Dean can't help but match. "Claire loves the photo," he says, turning his phone around. It's another photo of Claire, but this time she has the same bright smile on her face as her dad.
"She really wanted you to take that picture, didn't she," Dean says with a chuckle.
Cas nods. "She did. She's a sweet girl."
"Why's she love angel wings so much? She doesn't really… look the type, I guess," Dean asks, his curiosity finally winning out.
"The eyeliner phase is new. She's always loved angels, though. Her mother used to tell her angels were watching over her every night before bed, and I think that stuck with her."
Dean smiles. "My mom used to say the same thing to me. Definitely sticks with you," he says, as he pushes up the sleeve of his shirt. He holds his arm out to show Castiel the angel wing tattoo on his forearm, his mom's name and the dates she was alive in the middle. "Got this for her a few years ago."
Cas reaches out, brushing the edge of one of the wings. Dean shivers a little at the touch, but mostly just because of how soft and gentle Cas's hands are. "It's beautiful, I'm sure she would appreciate it," Cas says. "I think Claire's mom always said it because I'm named for an angel. Claire calls me her angel when she's feeling sentimental." Dean's not sure if Cas realizes that he's still tracing the edges of his tattoo. Honestly, he doesn't mind. The contact feels nice and he feels surprisingly drawn to Cas. His hand stays there until their food arrives.
The conversation shifts slightly, becoming more casual. They talk about their research, the talks they're planning to attend during the weekend, and a little bit about the university Castiel will soon call home. It's comfortable. Cas is really nice and interesting, and Dean's excited that it looks like he'll have a new friend when the school year starts.
A little voice in the back of his head hopes that he'll end up more than a friend, and Dean thinks the feeling might be mutual when Cas grabs his hand on their way back to the conference hotel.
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envy
pairing: mason x f!detective (josie valentine), also bobby is in this
note: after the bakery incident (because I’m still not over it), things are tense and bobby only contributes, a lot of confusion lol, bobby and josie kissed in book 2
Mason didn't like this, he didn't like this at all.
In theory it made sense with Josie's whole 'all for Wayhaven, town spirit' shit but did it really have to involve that stupid fucking reporter?
Even though Josie went on and on about how it was nice of him to promote the blood drive and how him covering it will draw people in, he saw that she wasn't indifferent to the idea of having him there. Something happened, he was sure of it. All he knew was that the two were best friends in college and somehow fell apart. Josie might be an open book but she was particularly stingy with the details whenever he was involved.
Him. The reporter. Bobby.
The same Bobby who was at Josie's apartment that night, the same Bobby he caught her visiting almost every day at the Agency's hospital wing. The same Bobby that keeps harassing her at work, no matter how much she tries to play nice and ignore him. He knew the shit face was getting to her, the way she was playing nervously with the sleeves of her yellow shirt and that worried look on her face were evidence enough of how much she was dreading this meeting, he thought briefly about having a little chat with him. But why should he? Josie could handle it, besides it's not like they were on the best of terms right now — he'd only make everything worse.
Josie still hasn't spoken to him except for a brief 'yes' when asked if she was going to be working late again and a 'no' when he asked if she needed him to walk her back to her car.
Both questions work related, as all their conversations were these past few weeks. But whatever. She'll get over it. Mason didn't care, or that's what he kept telling himself, but that still didn't stop the regret from coiling deep in his stomach.
When Bobby finally arrived he was greeted only by Nate and Felix, with Nate giving him a polite nod and Felix looking between him and Mason as if he's expecting the two to jump on each other any second. Adam simply gave Bobby a curt nod while Mason didn't bother to hide his eye roll. Bobby didn't seem too bothered by it but still stayed at the doorway as if waiting for something, Josie shifted on her feet unsure of what to do. The tension in the room was nearly impenetrable and the quiet was only interrupted by the sound of the station's printer. This meeting couldn't end soon enough.
"Hi." Josie blurted out before snapping out of it "Welcome, thanks for coming."
Bobby simply smiled and with a shrug stepped into the office.
"Well I wouldn't be a good reporter if I didn't cover the town's newest event, would I?" He steps further into the room, his attention completely on Josie.
"Especially when it's hosted by Wayhaven's dearest detective."
Mason almost growls at the sultry tone he lets casually slip in the compliment, Josie's eyes widen briefly before she looks away from him, blushing slightly. Mason frowned — what was up with her? She simply offered Bobby a small tight smile, lifting her shoulders to her chin in something akin a shrug. A tell that Mason knows means she's shying away and wants to shrink but Bobby doesn't miss a thing, his eyes gulping her down, hungry.
"Right. Thank you. Well, we should get started."
Josie busies herself with lifting the files from the table to make room for the blueprint of the event. Once she lays it down, Bobby joins her on the other side of the desk to examine it thouroughly. Josie's yellow shirt, with which she replaced her turtlenecks and pressed shirts once summer started, clashes with Bobby's white one causing Mason to avert his eyes every once in a while. The bright yellow should be even more unbearable to look at but somehow on Josie it didn't bother him that much. Bobby's shirt was also slightly unbuttoned, on purpose Mason assumed, since judging by his reaction earlier he didn't expect Unit Bravo to be there at all. He wanted them to be alone.
Mason smirked. He can forget about it.
After a few moments Bobby whistles. "This is the Mayor's idea."
"Yeah." Josie slightly leans on the desk "Flashy. Colorful. Fun — the brighter it looks, the more people it attracts."
"Sounds about right." he says giving her a conspiratorial smile.
Josie shrugs. "It's the best way to get people interested."
"Yes I know Jo." Bobby rolls his eyes "You don't have to jump to everyone's defense all the time."
Mason didn't know if it was the nickname or the almost irritated tone he used that made Josie uncomfortably shrink again.
"Just get on with what you came here to do." Mason interjects impatiently "No one asked for your opinion."
They both finally look up at Mason and acknowledge that the rest of Unit Bravo are still in the room. Bobby makes to probably sass him back before Josie cuts him off.
"Stay out of this Mason." she orders in a strict tone so unlike her usual gentle one "Bobby was kind enough to help us out with this so you should treat him with respect."
Bobby seems just as surprised as Mason at the outburst before turning towards him with a smug smirk.
"Yeah Specialist Agent Mason." he almost spits out the title "Show me some respect."
He simply crosses his arms, stifling the urge to grab him by the collar and teach him some 'respect'. Felix throws him a worried frown but he shrugs it off, he wants a smoke but he doesn't want to leave.
Choosing to move on from the conflict, Josie and Bobby agree to get started with crafting the article. Mason watched with interest as Josie took initiative, listening attentively to everything Bobby suggested and making her opinions strongly known when needed. The change in Josie's confidence didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the team who seemed really proud of how far she'd come since their first meeting. And Mason was glad, he couldn't help the small tinge of pride that lingered in his chest at seeing Josie be more sure of herself.
She was a great detective, Mason never doubted that and it was time for her not to doubt it too.
His senses haven't been acting up again, not with Josie's presence there to soothe them, but something was begining to set him off. A strong aroma, as he focuses on finding the source it immediately draws him to Bobby. Overwhelming. His face scrunched up when the scent finally hit his nostrils — juniper, Josie's favorite. Does he really think he's being subtle? Though he doubts subtle is really Bobby's forte.
He's onto the bastard and what's he's trying to do. It won't work, Josie's too smart for that. But as more time passes, the more unsure Mason becomes.
The two work in sinc, dancing around each other in a familiar routine that they only know the steps to. It's like they've done this a thousand times before and Mason briefly acknowledges that they probably have. The way they communicate through glances, the way they finish each other's sentences knowing what the other is going to say before they actually say it. It reminds him of Nate and Adam and he wants to extinguish that connection, they're nothing like Nate and Adam.
He's a bastard and she's—
She's Josie, she's Josie and he can't imagine how they could've ever been friends.
"Are they going to serve food there as well?"
"I guess, since there will be a lot of festivities."
Bobby hums in agreement before sliding his glance briefly over at Mason. He smirks again as if he's suddenly remembered something.
"They better not serve strawberry ice cream though, right Jo?"
Josie looks mildly panicked glancing from him to the team as if they're supposed to know what that means.
"Bobby you promised!" Josie pouts slightly but he can see it's more out of amusement than being upset. They both share a smile from across the table and Mason's sick again. He's throwing it in his face, isn't he? The fact that they have secrets, memories... something that her and Mason don't. Whatever. He doesn't care who she has memories with, he'll win her over soon enough.
Josie joins Bobby's side of the table as they both lean over the blueprint. Mason doesn't miss how Bobby's eyes never leave Josie's face as she talks, too engrossed in the blueprint to notice. He couldn't quite make out the look on the reporter's face and it irked him. Josie was pretty to look at, there was no doubt about it, but it wasn't just that. There was something else there; dialated pupils, fondness...
He's not staying for this bullshit anymore. Josie briefly looks up at the sound of him leaving the chair. He doesn't care — he's not thinking about this anymore. He's not thinking about the fact his hand is only inches away from hers and he's definitely not thinking about the fact that she's starting to forget herself too, leaning into him slightly, their shoulders touching.
"This is taking too long, I need a smoke."
He doesn't look back. He doesn't notice Josie watching him leave.
-
Josie offers a final smile to Nate as she closes the door to her office. She didn't know what exactly encouraged her to walk Bobby out, maybe it was because she wanted to thank him again or maybe it was because she wanted to make sure that everything was right between them. She had her reasons, there was no doubt about it. She prayed for weeks that he wouldn't remember the kiss they shared in her apartment. She wouldn't know what to do if he did. And so far, he hadn't mentioned a thing, so he must've really forgotten everything that had happened.
The meeting felt familiar. And it was familiar, so familiar that if she closed her eyes and let herself drift away, she could pretend that this was a college project. That they were partners, friends, best friends...
She bit her tongue.
"Thank you, again, for doing this."
'I couldn't have done this without you' she almost says, like she did before. But she learned that she could do it without him.
"No problem." he said giving her a friendly smile "I would've stopped by anyway."
Why? , she wants to ask immediately. But she knows why.
User.
"Oh." she simply states and finds herself avoiding eye contact. A small part of her was still scared that one moment he'll snap out of it and remember what happened.
The kiss had remained her own filthy little secret. She didn't tell anyone, not Tina, not Rebecca, not anyone. She was filled with such shame, how could she have been so weak?
What was she thinking? That he actually cared? She had finally stopped returning his calls, stopped turning around when he'd try and talk to her. Stopped treating him as a treasured person in her life that he once was. He decided to stop being that. Her best friend. It was his choice.
So she doesn't believe him when he says he misses what they had because what they had was so easy to throw away for a stupid article. An article that made sure she couldn't show up to campus anymore. Her nails dug into her palms. That was the thing with Bobby, he managed to bring out the worst in her, the worst that Josie desperately tries to keep inside.
"I had a weird dream about you, you know." his voice brings her out of it and she doesn't avert her eyes this time. The way his mouth shaped around the word 'weird' filled her with dread.
"What?"
"It felt so real." he utters somewhat to himself, his eyes laying solely on her lips. Breathing heavily, she reflexively took a step back but stopped the urge to run and lock herself in her office.
"People dream about all sorts of things. You shouldn't worry about it." her words are half-rushed, her tone is all skewed and she all but freezes when his eyes meet hers with intent focus. As he examines her face, she's almost sure he'll give her that content smirk, the one he uses when he knows he's won, and call her out on her bluff. But he doesn't.
Instead he simply looks away for a second and shrugs, visibly snapping out of it. She makes an effort not to let her relief show.
"Yeah, you're probably right. See you around Jo."
She doesn't trust herself to respond, after all, she'd never been a good liar.
And how can she respond when she can still feel his kiss on her lips?
#twc#the wayhaven chronicles#twc m#twc mason#specialist agent mason#twc bobby#bobby marks#mason x detective#HITS POST AND DIPPS#i come on here once in a blue moon with a really specific fic idea and then it's back to radio silence#i haven't written fics in months ?#plz don't drag me#i'm sensitive aha ha ha
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Just A Friend
Previous
AO3
Another Sunday, another chapter. Hope it’s a good weekend for you all, despite these uncertain times. I always intended this story to be a bit of fluffy light relief from the real world. Thanks for all the support for it.
There will probably be another 3 chapters after this, depending on how the characters behave. I cant seem to make them do what I want sometimes!
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta
Chapter 11: From Marriage to Mackenzie
It’s 1pm and I’m in a hotel room, still in a bathrobe, sipping Buck’s Fizz whilst a hairdresser wrestles with my wayward curls, finally managing to corral them into some sort of recognisable hair style.
Geillis is sitting on the edge of the bed incongruously dressed in tiara and bathrobe, her hair arranged in an elaborate updo. I catch her eye through the dressing table mirror and smile before my vision is obscured by a miasma of hairspray.
A few final tweaks of my curls and it’s done. I am just amazed that my hair can be cajoled into such glossy, bouncy curls, held behind one ear by an ornately decorated comb. With suitable compliments and thanks, Geillis and I bid goodbye to the hairdresser.
The bride stands up and adjusts the belt of her robe. She seems the epitome of calm.
“Are you not nervous, Geillis? You’ll be walking down the aisle in about an hour’s time.”
“Weel, I am a wee bit worried about a couple of things,” she admits. “I dinna ken how ma cousin Janie will behave. She may try tae proposition every man under the age of seventy five. And as fer Dougal’s Uncle Eric—he has been known tae get steamin’ drunk and puke in the rose beds. But about the marrying? Nah, I dinna have any nerves about that. I want tae spend ma life wi’ Dougal and that’s what today is all about. I have nae worries about making that commitment. He’s the one fer me. When ye ken, ye ken. Trust me, Claire.”
The pocket of her bathrobe begins to buzz. She quickly pulls out her phone and reads the message.
“I’d best go. That was Mam, fretting about something or other. Are ye ok getting dressed on yer own?”
“I’ve managed for the past twenty nine years or so. I dare say I can manage another day.” I sigh theatrically.
“I ken. Ye can manage on yer own. Ye always do. But thanks fer being here with me today. It means a lot tae have the people who mean the most tae me around,” she leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “But remember what I said, Claire, when ye ken, ye ken. Dinna ignore it.”
Pausing at the interconnecting doorway, she does a quick body shimmy and grins. “Woo hoo! I’m getting married. Canna believe it’s here now,”
From the adjoining room, I can hear a shouted response. “Geillis Duncan, ye get here now. Yer mam reckons that makeup lassie has done her eyeliner wonky. It looks fine tae me. Can ye come and talk some sense in tae the daft cow?”
“Alright, Da, I’m coming.” Geillis yells back before leaving to deal with her parents.
I sit down and study my bridesmaid’s dress, now hanging on the wardrobe door. I’m getting excited about the day ahead. Probably not as much as Geillis, obviously, but a host of butterflies appears to have taken residence in the pit of my stomach.
I’m truly thrilled for Geillis to be marrying Dougal—they love each other so much. But, also, it’s scary to me. She is willing, eager even, to commit to one person, to base her future life, her future happiness on one man. If they should ever leave…well, I’m not sure I’d be able to cope with that. If you love too hard, you can hurt too much. Trust me on that, I know. People leave you. Don’t give your heart to anyone, keep it hidden away, protected…intact.
The ping from my phone diverts me from this somber train of thought.
I’m downstairs at the hotel. Can you come and say hello?
I quickly type:
Come up to the 2nd floor. I’ll meet you by the lift.
Making sure the keycard is in my pocket, I slip my feet into the hotel’s complimentary slippers and shuffle out to meet Jamie.
I’m already waiting as the lift door opens and he emerges. My first thought is oh wow, as is my second...and third. He has made an effort for this wedding, and it’s certainly paid off. Eschewing the more formal Prince Charlie style, he’s wearing a charcoal grey jacket and waistcoat, perfectly matching the grey in his kilt. A crisp white shirt and burgundy tie complement the secondary colours in the tartan. His sporran is black leather, heavily etched or embossed. I can’t quite make out the detail. Then I feel myself blush as I realise I have been clearly staring at his...er, lower body. I look up quickly.
Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to have noticed. He looks me up and down and smiles. “Nice outfit,” he comments drily. “Is the bride wearing white towelling too? What’s the theme? Salon chic?”And is that part of the design?” He points to an orange stain on the front of my robe. I pull a face and tie the belt tighter, trying to tuck the offending piece of material out of sight.
“Must have spilled a drop of my Buck’s Fizz.”
“Drinking already? Dinna be staggering down the aisle.”
He reaches out towards my hair and pauses for a second before making a random circular motion with his hand. “And this…I like yer hair. It’s verra…verra…” he searches for the word. “... asymmetric.”
“Thank you,” I hold the ‘skirt’ of my robe and bob a little curtsy. “That’s totally what we were going for—asymmetric.”
He laughs. “Nah, seriously. Yer hair and yer makeup look grand. I’m sure ye’ll look lovely in yer dress.”
I gesture to my room. “I’d best finish getting ready.”
“Aye, I’ll see ye downstairs.” He presses the button for the lift.
“By the way, you look grand too.” I try to say it in an understated way. It’s true, but I don’t want him to read anything into the statement.
The lift arrives and he steps inside. As the doors close, he fires a parting shot. “Especially the sporran, eh?”
*********
Now in my bridesmaid’s dress, I practice a couple of pirouettes in front of the mirror before hearing a quick knock on the door to the adjoining room.
“Ye ready, Claire? Mam’s jes’ gone down. Only us three left.”
I walk through to the other room to be met by a riot of open suitcases, bags and boxes. A variety of towels, dressing gowns and footwear seem to be carpeting the floor.
“‘S ok,” Geillis’ voice comes from behind me. “It’s no’ ma problem. I’m no’ sleeping here tonight. I’ll be in the bridal suite. This’ll be Mam and Dad’s room.”
I turn to see my best friend now fully dressed and ready. Her father is hovering next to her, clad in kilt and full formal regalia. I always knew she would win that battle.
As beautiful as she looks, the thing that really strikes me is the way her father is watching her, with such love and pride. She returns his gaze and brings her forehead to rest against his cheek.
I swallow hard, fighting the desire to shed a tear. It’s such a precious image, so intimate, but also, I realise that, since Lamb died, I have nobody, no father figure, to share something like this. I feel a momentary pang of, not jealousy, but a feeling of regret over an emotion that I will never get to experience.
And then, just like that, the moment passes.
It always does.
Geillis passes me a creamy white posy tied with a simple ribbon and gathers up her bouquet of peonies, roses and fragrant eucalyptus.
“OK,” she takes a deep breath and breaks into a huge grin. “I think I’m late enough tae get Dougal jes’ a wee bit nervous. Time tae roll.”
*******
The hotel’s orangery provides a perfect setting for the wedding ceremony. Softly diffused sunlight filters through the white muslin drapes at the large windows. A slight breeze wafts the fabric gently, giving tantalising glimpses of the formal gardens outside.
At the end of the room, Dougal and Angus stand beside a large arch of succulent green foliage, staring straight ahead as Geillis and her father begin the procession down the aisle with me following.
Even before he turns to look, I can spot Jamie — his auburn curls are head and shoulders above those around him. He stays still at first, but as we draw near he turns around and grins before doing his funny blink, screwing up his face and closing both eyes, which I have learnt, is Jamie’s attempt at a wink. I return his smile before focussing on the arch getting ever closer.
Dougal appears rooted to the spot, but Angus turns around and watches for a moment before giving me a perfectly executed wink. I smile politely even as I shudder inwardly. The sheer self confidence of that man is beyond belief. Then he disappears from my thoughts as Geillis reaches the arch and passes me her bouquet to hold. The joy on her and Dougal’s faces as they prepare to make their vows is wonderful and I’m so happy to be a part of it all.
***************
They say the sun shines on the righteous. Well, Geillis and Dougal must be exceptionally good, as it’s a perfect summer afternoon. It’s beautifully warm, but not too hot, as all the guests mingle in the gardens, admiring the beautiful surroundings whilst drinking chilled champagne.
The photographer has finished with the formal photographs, so I’m allowed to relax and enjoy a glass or two. I can still spot him wandering around, ready to take more natural, candid shots of the proceedings but nobody seems to mind.
I was initially worried about inviting Jamie to the wedding for a couple of reasons. The first was my friends. Of course, my friends are great, but Anna and Mary can sometimes have an issue with boundaries and I had visions of the ‘conversations’ they might try to have with Jamie — ‘nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition’ unless Anna and Mary are around.
The second reason was that Jamie would literally know only one person at this wedding —me. And that, when I was off doing official ‘wedding stuff’, he would be on his own, billy-no-mates. But, as I look around, I realise I had absolutely nothing to worry about on that score. He has the knack, it seems, to get on with everyone.
At the moment he’s talking to Geillis’s father, laughing and joking like they’re old friends. He notices me looking at him, lifts his empty glass up and points to me. I hold my glass up and nod. He excuses himself and strolls towards the bar.
There’s a slight touch on my elbow. “Hello, dear.”
I draw my attention to the old lady standing next to me—Geillis’ great aunt Frances. I’ve met her on a couple of occasions before and have always enjoyed her company. She’s a straight talker and makes no bones about it. “When ye get tae my age,” I remember her commenting to me “ye dinna have time tae beat about the bush, ye need tae say what ye think.” I like that in a person.
“Hello, how nice to see you.”
“Ye too,dear. I must say ye’re looking awfa bonnie in that dress. It’s a fine colour on ye.”
“Thank you. And you’re looking lovely yourself.”
Frances makes a self deprecating ‘hmph’ sound, dismissing my compliment with a wave of her hand. “Away wi’ ye. Ye do yer best wi’ what ye’ve still got. Which isna much in ma case.”
I shake my head. “Not at—“
But she decides to change the subject and moves on with her next question. “Is that yer young man over there?” She points at Jamie, heading towards us with two glasses of champagne. “He’s a handsome chap, is he no’? Mind ye, that’s no more than ye deserve. Sae, mebbe ye’ll be next?”
“No, we—“
I have no chance to say anything more, before Jamie is by my side and handing me one of the glasses. I take a sip as he notices that Frances has no drink and, without hesitation, he passes the second glass to her.
“Aren’t ye kind… er?” She accepts gratefully.
“Jamie.”
“Weel, Jamie, let me tell ye. It’s been a long while since a good looking young man has brought me a drink. I should make the most of it. Anyway, I was jes’ saying tae our Claire here, how bonnie she looks today. Does she no’?”
She fixes her gaze on Jamie, demanding an answer.
“Aye, she looks lovely.” His eyes meet mine for a second, before I look away and try to change the subject.
“Don’t you think Geillis looks beautiful, Frances?”
But, it seems that Frances has one line of conversation that she is keen to pursue. “Oh aye, she does. But, Jamie, I was jes’ saying tae Claire that mebbe she’ll be next. What d’ye think?”
Fortunately, I’m spared any response as a gong sounds and the maître d’ announces that dinner is served and that everyone should make their way inside to the dining room.
****************
Having narrowly avoided any embarrassment, I am somewhat apprehensive to see Frances at our table. Fortunately, Geillis’ cousin and baby are enough to divert her attention away from any matrimonial prospects that may or may not be on my horizon.
With Jamie sitting by my side, I catch him up on all the behind the scenes activity of my day and we fall into our pattern of easy conversation and gentle banter. From time to time, I can see Frances, opposite, watching us with a look of approval on her face, but she says nothing.
Once the speeches and toasts are over, there’s a palpable change in the guests. Jackets are draped over chair backs, sleeves rolled up and waistcoat buttons undone. I can spot more than one woman moving awkwardly in her chair, struggling to locate the shoes that were eased off out of sight under the table. Cheeks become flushed with an abundance of rich food and tongues become looser with a surfeit of fine wine.
I sip my whisky, savouring its peaty smokiness. Jamie is in a serious rugby related conversation with his neighbour. A rustle of fabric behind me announces the arrival of the bride, a look of frustration on her face.
She greets the table politely before whispering “Can I borrow ye, Claire?”
I make my excuses and follow her into a quieter room.
“What’s up, Geillis? Is everything alright?” I’m concerned that there’s something genuinely wrong.
“It’s his bloody family,” she hisses. “The Mackenzies, if ye give them an inch, they’ll take a fuckin’ mile.”
She takes a deep breath and continues. “Dougal invited his second cousin Gary and his wife tae our evening do. Jes’ the two of them mind. Sae they turn up an hour and a half early and try tae cadge dessert and brandies from the waiters.”
“Where are they now?”
“Och, they’re sitting outside wi’ a couple of spare bottles of wine.” She gestures angrily to the gardens visible through the window. “And they’ll be first in the queue fer the buffet this evening, nae doubt. And what's more, they took it upon themselves tae bring their three bairns too. Weel, I say bairns, but they’re all in their twenties so it’s no’ as if they dinna have a babysitter.”
She finally sits down and lets her shoulders relax.
I take her hand and try to look serious. If this is the worst thing that happens today, that’s not so bad. Although clearly, in Geillis’ eyes, this is a catastrophe. “It’s not going to spoil anything really is it? They didn’t gatecrash the meal or the speeches,” I speak in a soothing tone. “Are you ok now?”
She nods. “Happen ye’re right. I jes’ wanted tae get it off ma chest. And I kent what I was getting in tae wi’ his family. But tae drag Gregory, Alicia and Laoghaire uninvited wi’ them jes’ pisses me off.”
I stare at her. “Laoghaire? Laoghaire Mackenzie?”
“Aye, that’s right. Unusual name, is it no’? Ye dinna find many of them around—thank god.”
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Love Alarm
*SPOILERS*
Also : these are opinions. don’t attack me. but you’re welcome to a chat but I’ll probably reply in the morning cause it’s almost 4am and I just binged watched the whole series since midnight. i’m tired. i’m cranky and now i’m upset.
Yes, it’s true. Sun Oh and Jojo’s relationship was a bit sprung out of nowhere in S1. BUT the ending of Season 2 just broke me. Like, I’ve been without a crush for four years and have never developed any romantic feelings for anyone. Yet this ending hurt me. Like I sobbed a bit and I feel a bit stupid. I don’t like the ending - I was really rooting for Sun Oh and Jojo and honestly immersed myself into the relationship (past the whole actual development of feelings? cause where?) and after waiting for two years, courtesy of covid (you bastard) was I uprooted from the ground and left to rot. I sobbed, I cried, I ranted to one of my best friends cause I needed comfort in a way that a friend needs comfort over a darn crush. I hated the fact that as soon as Jojo said her ‘I’m Sorry’ for closure, he suddenly felt like Yuk Jo is the girl for him. Nope. Did not like that no matter how I look at it. 1) I’m just getting over the fact that Jojo chose Hyeyoung (who tbh was a much better fit for Jojo but did not feel their relationship AT ALL though this may be because I’m a bit biased) and now, I have to get used to the fact that Sun Oh all of a sudden changed his objective and gone for the next best thing. Enter Yuk Jo,
I do admit I do like the Sun Oh coming into Jojo’s class bit. I don’t why but I like it.
This would be such a good second lead wins the girl if it was done properly. During Sun Oh’s relationship with Jojo, Hyeyoung completely takes the back burner (which is understandable) but as a character and a competing love interest, I think his presence should always be made known. In reference to Cheese In The Trap, she’s in a relationship with ‘Sunbae’ for most of it, but we root for In Ho because he’s always there as someone that could actually potentially be Mr Steal Your Girl. It’s only in the last couple? episodes does Hyeyoung start to do this. I’m angry that Love Alarm Season 1 didn’t give me enough time to root for him. Because I usually have chronic SLS (Second Lead Syndrome) and with this I absolutely did not. I just did not feel their relationship at all. Too be honest I skipped it out of disinterest and was more attached to Sun Oh and their moments.
Though in saying this, I did not find Hyeyoung annoying or anything. I found comfort in his character which in retrospect was what Jojo needs BUT- ugh I can’t help but feel upset. Also don’t ask me why I like Sun Oh so much - I can’t answer that. He’s pretty. That’s easy and very superficial. I like that he’s soft with her but so is Hyeyoung. I love the drama and extravagance he brings Jojo (hence the classroom scene). I especially like how she’s really only the girl that captures his attention and affection (which when he chose Yuk Jo completely threw me off).
Though this may just be because of my crush and soft spot for Song Kang. I love him in a very pitiful way in Liar and His Lover and when he appeared in Love Alarm, I really rooted for him, so when he got the girl I was ecstatic.
Yup that crashed and burned on me. My only light at the end of this tunnel is that my ATEEZ albums arrived and I’m going to open them up tomorrow morning/ later on?
Perhaps I was happier for Sun Oh because with him he brings more to the protagonist. The drama, the fun, the emotions are already there. Hyeyoung had a shit load of comfort and warmth but not necessarily the emotions I felt were needed and it’s a shame because they’re both fantastic actors/actresses yet their emotions fell flat on me.
There was a lot of parts I feel could be explained better or something? And there was a lot of fillers that granted were meant to distract the audience for the shock factor later but there was just too many of them in my case.
This has become a review.
I’m still upset. I want to cry. I want to fix it.
As I write this I become more understanding but like I refuse to accept it really.
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You know that headcanon about Crispin getting into fights by accident? And his worst one being with Vern at a wedding? Could you maybe please write a fic about that? And maybe throw some Crispin x Odie in there if possible? Thank you!
Oh lord, here we go-
Genre: Fluff/ Angst/ Comedy/ Romance
Words: 2283
TL;DR: Crispin really, REALLY should start talking when people want to fight him.
TW: Fighting, swearing, drunkeness
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Crispin bit his lip, sitting silently during the wedding reception. He didn't like weddings. He actually didn't like big events at all. Too many people. It made him anxious. But... this was Vern's sister and Mary Jo's brother's wedding. Not that he was friends of either of those people (he didn't even know their names, and that should say a lot considering the size of the town they were in). But he was Ellis' cousin and Vern was his friend, so he had to be there. Plus Odie loved weddings, and he would walk to the ends of the earth for that man. so... here he was. At a wedding reception. The last place in the world he'd want to be on a Wednesday evening. Vern had even done him a 'favour'. He'd made a little 'boys' table with all the people he knew Crispin considered to be friends. It was him, Vern, Ellis, Donny, Odie, Desmond, Aubrey and Sybilus. Apparently Ellis had insisted Vern talk to his sister about it because he 'didn't want his little cousin getting lonely'. Little did Ellis know that Crispin would really rather be alone right now.
It was a good party. And the food was good- especially since he didn't have to pay for it. Vern had made sure they had the best cuts of meat for the dinner, and god was it delicious. Like, the beef option was this melt-in-your-mouth prime rib and it was perfectly cooked. It was almost enough to make Crispin not regret that he'd come to the wedding. But on the downside... everything was so, so loud. Everyone was talking, which meant that naturally everyone was talking over each other. And everything just got louder and louder. It gave Crispin a headache. There was a reason Crispin didn't speak, and it was because he liked the quiet. He liked to be able to hear the voices in his head and think clearly. And words... they complicated things. Especially love. Crispin had seen love go wrong so many times because of words that hadn't been thought out properly. At least with signing you really had to think out what you were going to say. Odie and Crispin did just fine without verbal communication, thank you very much. He wished the rest of the world give it a try.
Crispin had sort of zoned out of the conversation. After all, with so many voices coming at him from every direction... it was hard to follow one set. He just looked around the room, taking everything in. he had to admit, the little tent they'd set up for the reception was lovely. It was pristine white. And inside, Ellis and Mary Jo had decorated it with some gorgeous flower arrangements. Nothing too overwhelming in scent though. And the music... their DJ was good. The whole ambience of the wedding was lovely, save for the voices. Now, if you could just funnel all that noise out and get Crispin a book... things would be great. Yeah. He could go for a book. And another one of those prime ribs. That was good. He hoped the cake was that good. So many wedding cakes just tasted like soap. He was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts by a rather sharp nudge from someone. Crispin blinked, snapping his head to see who it was. It was Odie.
"What're you giving me that look for?" Vern glared at Crispin. Crispin blinked in shock again. Was his face doing that thing again?
"I'm sure he didn't mean to give you any look, Vern... Right, Crispin?" Odie prompted. Crispin nodded, genuinely confused and a little scared. What had he missed?
"No, he did this sassy little eye-roll thing!" Vern insisted. Oh shit, had he? He knew he did that when he was thinking sometimes. "You didn't think my little sister looked good, did you?"
"N-n-n-now Vern... let's not be r-rash..." Sybilus tried to soothe him.
"What was wrong with how my sister looked on her wedding day, Crispin?" Vern asked. He took a look at Vern's place. Ah. He'd gotten some beer. How much had Vern had to drink already? Because depending on how drunnk he was... this could be very bad for Crispin. He frantically signed at Odie, Donny and Ellis.
'I wasn't even listening! I zoned out thinking about how nice this place would be to read in!' Crispin signed.
"You should really stop doing that." Odie advised him. "It never ends well."
'I know...' Crispin signed. 'Just... the whole ambience is great in here except for the voices. I can't help it that I just want to curl up with a book.'
"Well thank god." Ellis sighed in relief, relishing in the drama of it all. "Vern, he-"
"No. No, I want to hear him fucking say it." Vern almost growled. Crispin went pale. No, he didn't want to speak.
"Language!" Desmond chided.
"Vern, you know he doesn't do that!" Donny rolled his eyes.
"I want to fucking hear it from him!" Vern demanded, standing up. He grabbed Crispin by the collar of his shirt. Crispin gulped nervously. God, Vern was so much bigger than him. "What the fuck was wrong with my sister, you little shit?"
"Vern... I think it would be best if you set him down..." Aubrey attempted to soothe. Crispin gave a pleading look to Ellis, knowing that as a relative of the groom maybe he'd be able to talk Vern down.
"Vern, Crispin doesn't speak. And I know he didn't mean to insult your little sister." Ellis stated. "He was lost in his thoughts."
"Fucking creep... were you thinking about the bride on her fucking wedding day?" Vern spat, his words just a little slurred. Shit. Oh, he was drunk. Crispin was fucked.
"Vern... Vern, what's going on?" The bride asked, scared.
"This little shit wants to get in your pants!" Vern glared at Crispin.
"No... no, Vern, he wasn't thinking of her!" Ellis cut in. He liked drama, but he wasn't going to ruin any marriages. "He was thinking about how nice it would be to read in here."
"You fucking expect me to believe that?" Vern rolled his eyes.
"Vern, it's true." Odie insisted.
"Maybe it's what he's saying to you, but that doesn't make it the truth!" Vern growled. No, no one was going to talk Vern down at this poin.
"Vern, think about who we're talking about for a minute. This is Crispin. He doesn't have it in him to insult anyone." Odie pointed out.
"Well..." Donny countered. Odie mouthed a 'not helping' to him.
"Not to their face." Vern grumbled, eyes trained on Crispin. Crispin hated this. But... he couldn't find his voice. At this point, if he could he would.
"Listen, Vern, there's like... literally nothing to insult." Donny shrugged. "I mean, sure, the whole look was a little... old."
"Is that what you called my little sister with your fancy little hand dancing? Did you call her old?" Vern glared at Crispin. Crispin shook his head.
"Old can be beautiful." Aubrey tried. "That's why we study history. There's a lot of beauty in the past."
"Vernie, I was going for a historic wedding." The bride told him. "That was a compliment!"
"Stop trying to fucking vouch for him!" Vern snapped at everyone.
"Vern, enough!" Desmond demanded. "Put Crispin down!"
"No!" Vern shook his head. He focused on Crispin again. "You little shit... no one gets to insult my little sister."
And with that, Vern threw the first punch. It his square in the jaw. Crispin yelped, and everyone gasped. Ellis looked absolutely scandalized- which was a fact Crispin wasn't entirely sure why he'd noticed but he was a bit out of it. His brain was focusing on a lot of weird things. Like how weird Dr. Edwards' laugh was. He was snapped back again when Vern threw another punch. Crispin tried to block it... to no avail. He dodged a third punch. Then Crispin was slammed onto the table... and that was all that Crispin could really remember clearly. He remembered he'd started fighting back in self defense. he hated to, and it hadn't done much good, but... he had to do something. He remembered everyone- including the bride- begging Vern to stop. But... Vern was pissed. Like, drunk and very angry. He was an angry drunk to begin with. It was just Crispin who had gotten his anger that night. He should've known better than to drink at his sister's wedding.
Anyways, they fought until he literally knocked Crispin out. Crispin remembered waking up very briefly in Dr. Edwards' office, but it was late and he was tired so he just went back to sleep. The next day when he woke (still in Dr. Edwards' office) Odie was sitting on the bed beside him and dabbing at something on his face. Or maybe he was cleaning it. God, his face was so tender. Were those stitches? Shit, how bad had things gotten? Crispin groaned quietly. He didn't like this. He had a massive headache- and he hadn't even had a drop of alcohol. It seemed Vern had had enough for the both of them. He'd kind of hoped that the night before had been a nightmare. But here he was. His jaw was killing him... which meant Dr. Edwards probably hadn't given him any pain meds. Odie smiled softly, being a bit gentler.
"Hey, Cris." Odie sighed. "Sorry about last night... we tried. But... I guess the groom got Vern's favourite beer in for the wedding. We didn't really think anything of it until... well, you know what happened."
'Did I win?' Crispin tried to sign. But his right arm was really sore.
"No... no you did not." Odie chuckled softly. "Hey, don't sign if you don't need to. You bent your wrist back trying to punch Vern last night."
'O-H G-O-D (Oh God)' Crispin fingerspelled, before starting to laugh. 'I A-M S-U-C-H A W-I-M-P (I am such a wimp)'
"No, Crispy... you're just a bit smaller than Vern." Odie chuckled along with him. He cupped Crispin's face gently, dabbing a few final tiems above Crispin's eyebrow. "You just lay back and relax. I'm going to take care of you."
"Is he in here?" A voice called in. Crispin tried to sit up and found that he was very sore. That made sense. Vern had kicked the shit out of him. He laid back down. Now he understood what Odie had meant when he said he should lay back and relax. Odie turned his head, sighing before letting go of Crispin and standing up.
"Yeah, he's here." Odie sighed. "Cris, it's Vern."
"Hey..." Vern bit his lip. he came and sat on the bed. Crispin immediately tensed, still a bit scared. "Hey... I am so sorry for this."
'It's okay.' Crispin tried to sign.
"He says it's okay." Odie translated.
"I took it way too far... man, I was so drunk... and my hangover is terrible." Vern sighed. "But like... I'm guessing it's nothing compared to what you're going through. God, I am so sorry..."
"It's fine." Crispin sighed. "Really."
"Hey, you don't have to do that." Vern told him. "I was so out of line, asking you to talk... and assuming that you thought my sister was ugly... man, I was a total idiot."
"Well, that's what too much alcohol will do." Odie chided.
"Yeah..." Vern agreed. "Listen, I just wanted to be sure you're okay... I know I can get really intense when I'm fighting."
"It'll take him time to recover, but... he'll be fine." Dr. Edwards slurred from where he was slumped over in the corner.
"Good." Vern sighed in relief, looking over Crispin again. "When you're feeling better, you come by the butcher shop. I'll give you anything you want."
'You don't need to.' Crispin signed.
"He says you don't need to." Odie translated.
"Yeah I do." Vern chuckled. "Just take it, okay bud?"
'Fine.' Crispin signed.
"He gave in." Odie told Vern.
"Hey, I've been meaning to ask... last night got me thinking... would one of you mind teaching me how to talk with the hand thing?" Vern asked.
"I can show you how to sign." Odie nodded. "Ellis, Donny, Rita and Sybilus also sign if you ever need help."
‘S-Y-B-I-L-U-S signs?’ Crispin blinked.
“Yeah! He went nonverbal for a while when he was younger, remember?” Odie smirked. He looked back at Vern. “Anyways... any of us would be happy to teach you. Just ask, any time.”
"Thanks." Vern smiled softly. He got up, heading for the door. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. Feel better soon, Crispin. I am so sorry."
'It's okay.' Crispin chuckled.
"He says it's okay." Odie smiled.
"Okay, bud, you're coming with me." Vern sighed, scooping up a somehow already drunk Dr. Edwards.
"But I'm gonna miss the good part!" Dr. Edwards whined. "Wanna stay until they kiss!"
"Not happening." Vern rolled his eyes, smirking. he called back to Odie and Crispin as he left. "Bye guys!"
Crispin waved.
"Well that was nice of him." Odie smirked. climbing to lay next to . "I like Vern."
'M-E T-O-O W-H-E-N H-E-S S-O-B-E-R (Me too when he's sober).' Crispin teased, fingerspelling so he could rest his arm.
"Which is most of the time." Odie chided teasingly.
'Y-E-A-H. (Yeah)' Crispin chuckled. He sighed. "Thanks for doing this."
"Well... you're a lot of trouble, but you're cute... which kind of makes up for it." Odie teased. "So I guess I don't mind so much."
'Y-O-U K-N-O-W Y-O-U L-O-V-E M-E (You know you love me)' Crispin rolled his eyes, grinning like an idiot.
"Yeah. I do." Odie shrugged, equally as teasing. He leaned in and gently kissed Crispin, who blushed. "Maybe it's a good thing that we're teaching him how to sign so that this doesn't happen again."
Crispin couldn't have said it better himself.
#wayward guide#crispin lynch#odie doty#wayward guide for the untrained eye#vern marrow#tin can bros#tcb#tcb fanfic#oneshot#fanfiction#send more prompts!#tw: fighting#tw: swearing#tw: drunk
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Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: T
Pairing: Destiel
Word Count: 4832
Summary: Dean is a contestant on the dance show 5678, and this year he has to be paired up with a partner until either one of them gets kicked off. Dean's partner is Castiel, the hot ballroom dancer with the stick up his ass.
WARNINGS: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Undiagnosed Eating Disorder, Homophobic Slur
read on ao3
5678. Dean had watched every season of the show, and after years of training in contemporary he’d made it through the auditions, made it through the rounds of disqualifiers, and now he was at the live show. He was living the dream, even if he was working himself to death every week trying to make that dream come true. For this season partners wouldn’t be switched every week to give him a range of dancers to test his mettle with. Nope, instead the network had decided it’d be more interesting for everyone to be paired off, and to gain “diversity points” they decided not all of the couples would be the typical male and female. Dean was kind of bummed. Some of the girls, mostly the ballroom girls, like Anna, and especially Jo, were super hot, and their bodies could move, but he’d been paired up with Castiel, the boy from some small town in the Midwest whose crazy religious parents decided his name needed to sound angelic. He looked like an angel. Smooth skin, blue, blue eyes, like crystals reflected in the light of the sun, dark hair that was always perfectly messy. Castiel was also a ballroom dancer, and he didn’t seem happy to be assigned Dean. He made this obvious because aside from just being a couple on the show, they were roommates. Castiel decided to always get in Dean’s personal space, to stare at him even when he asked him to stop, to give him weird looks when Dean made pop culture references, and he turned him down whenever he asked him to join him for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. And it wasn’t like he was asking him on a date. He just didn’t want to eat alone.
Castiel started spending more time with Zach, and he adopted a rather gruff demeanor, correcting Dean on his dancing, putting him in his place. Yeah, Castiel was the better dancer—he’d had a few extra years of training. But so what? Dean could pick things up fast, which was what got him to the live shows to begin with.
But Castiel was good-looking, and the way he could move was something Dean had only dreamed about. He told stories with his body, painted pictures that transcended reality, and sometimes, just for a few mere moments, during their rehearsals, Dean would lose himself, forget the steps, and just move with him, be with him, and those were the moments where they were the best. Their choreographers noticed it, told them to work on that intimacy. Dean blushed when they brought it up, not sure what that meant. Friendship? Or something more?
They’d finished up for the day, so, Castiel rolled up his sweaty shirt and stuffed it into his bag, pulled on a new one, and hardly gave Dean a look before leaving the studio. Dean shrugged at the choreographers, stuffed his feet into his shoes, and hurried out after him.
“Hey, Cas, that was great!” Dean called to him, speaking over the noise of the crowded city street they found themselves on.
“You need to work on the hits,” Castiel responded gruffly, completely ignoring his compliment.
“What?” Dean asked, jogging a little to catch up, and avoiding people as he did so. “I got too much energy for you, my angel?” he joked.
“Not enough energy.”
“Dude, this isn’t hip-hop. It’s ballroom. I think I’ll be fine.”
“Yes, and ballroom isn’t contemporary. We don’t float around like a bunch of fairy princesses.”
Dean tried to ignore his deprecating comments, and laughed slyly, thinking of the way Castiel could move his hips.
“Oh, buddy, I know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shot him a disgruntled look.
Fuck, he looked good like that. Hair mussed, cheeks red, sweaty from a good few hours of creative athleticism. The bored part of Dean’s mind thought of other creative and athletic things they could be doing with their bodies.
It was a stereotype that a lot of dancers got down and dirty when they weren’t on the dance floor, which wasn’t true. Sure, he’d had a lot of girlfriends, and some boyfriends, but other dancers he’d known had gotten almost nothing. Like, Benny for instance. One girlfriend, and he’d only been with Dean a couple times.
“Oh, you know, just that… You know, forget it, never mind. Not important. So, you want to grab some dinner, listen to the song a little more?”
“Dean, that song is stuck in my head. I’ll be lucky if it leaves me after I die.”
“Okay, fair.”
“But dinner, come on. You, me, some burgers, a milkshake.”
“A milkshake?”
“Yeah, two straws?” he joked, wondering if Castiel would pick up on the fact that he was teasing him. “Choreographer said we gotta work on our intimacy.
“And I suppose you think that means we get in bed together,” Castiel responded bluntly.
Dean’s cheeks went red, and he stopped short. Castiel kept walking. It wasn’t long before he lost sight of him in the crowd.
“Hey, wait up!” he called, catching up to him. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Oh?”
“Look, you don’t like me, I get that, but—”
Castiel suddenly whirled on him, and Dean had to stop before he bumped into him. His partner was squinting at him, which Dean had taken a few days to learn meant he was confused.
“What do you mean I don’t like you?”
“Y-y-you correct my dancing, you get in my space, you stare at me, you don’t want to get food with me. I get it, but we need to win this.”
“Dean, I do like you.”
Dean pulled his head back, surprised.
“What?”
Castiel grabbed his arm, something that shouldn’t have startled Dean after all the touching they’d done during rehearsal, but it did.
“Come on.”
He walked them back to their room, hand on his arm, leading him the entire time, and Dean liked the way he was taking charge. It was nice to give in a bit. Though Dean was the taller of the two of them, if only by a couple inches, Castiel had been assigned the leading parts so far in their dances, so he supposed this behavior was natural for him. Besides, Castiel was not small. He was actually wider than Dean, and Dean was a big man. He was relieved neither of them had had to do lifts with each other yet, but he was sure Castiel had the arms for it.
They got inside the hotel lobby, and he pulled him aside to a secluded corner, next to a potted plant that kind of looked like a mini palm tree. Was it a fichus? Dean whacked at one of the leaves.
“I do like you,” he told him.
“What? No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’m just an assignment to you.”
“You are. You were. Look, I like you. I just… I didn’t really have any friends back home, so I don’t know how to do this, and…” He lowered his head, cheeks reddening “Have you been on Twitter?” he continued.
“Yeah, a bit. Why?”
Castiel pulled his phone out of his bag, tapped on it a few times, and then turned it around to show the screen to Dean.
Dean studied it for a few seconds, scrolling, looking at the blue hashtag that seemed everywhere before asking, bewildered, “What the hell is Destiel?”
“It’s us, Dean. The fans, they… They ship us.”
“Wait, you know what shipping is?” Dean asked, breaking out into a smile when he realized Castiel had used a pop culture term.
His partner rolled his eyes.
“Don’t look so surprised. I had to look it up. It… It looked like it had to do with me, so I wondered, and I spent last night doing, uh, research? The fans, they want us together.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“So… So that makes things awkward, right?”
“We can be friends though?”
Dean looked at the gorgeous young man in front of him, the desperation in his eyes that he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before, the kindness. Where had all this come from? Had it been there and Dean had been so wrapped up in himself, in winning, that he just hadn’t seen it before?
“Cas, is this real? You’re not just using me to win?”
“No, Dean. If I’m going to win, it’s because I’m the best dancer, not because I’m manipulative.”
“I don’t know, I feel like you could be pretty manipulative, I mean, with that hair, those eyes…”
“Dean.”
“Hmm?”
“Can we just be friends?”
“Friends, yeah,” he agreed, blushing once more when he realized what he’d been saying out loud. He hoped he could just lie that his cheeks were just flushed from their workout.
“So what is with you?” Dean asked as they rode the elevator up to their room. “You’re so in the moment, so tough. It’s hard to get through that.”
Castiel shrugged. “My dad was away a lot growing up, I didn’t have my mom.”
“Oh, did she leave?”
“I don’t know what happened to her. My dad never talked about her the times he was around. So I was raised by my big brothers, Michael, Luke, and Gabriel.”
Dean grinned at that. “More Biblical names?”
“Luke liked to tell me Dad was part of a cult,” he explained.
The elevator dinged, coming to a slow halt, and then the doors slid open. Dean and Castiel bumped shoulders trying to get out at the same time, but Castiel, still true to his gruff demeanor, pushed ahead and got out first, leaving Dean somewhat befuddled. Maybe Cas hadn’t noticed he’d acted in such a way. Dean tried to not let it bother him, and was instead trying to focus on the fact that this guy was finally opening up to him somewhat.
And he was definitely going to ignore the fact that he didn’t want to open up to him.
No need to tell him about all the nights his dad came home drunk, yelling at him, or the times his dad’s friends used him to put out their cigarettes, or the times his dad called him a faggot for being a dancer. Called Sam that too, even though Sammy wanted to be a lawyer. He hadn’t done as much to him though, especially since Dean had told Sam to keep things to himself to avoid getting hurt, and Sam had listened to him. He especially wasn’t going to tell him about the fire that killed their mom, and burned down their house, and left them moving from place to place, always being the new kids, never staying for too long. And then there were the times his dad would just up and leave, abandon him and his brother, sometimes without money or food, leaving Dean to do what he had to to take care of Sammy.
Dad never told Dean where he went, but he came back angry and drunk, and then they’d move again, so he suspected he’d gotten into trouble with the cops, or maybe some married woman. Sometimes he wondered if he had a sibling or two he didn’t know about.
“Was he?” Dean asked, realizing he hadn’t said anything about the whole “cult” comment.
Castiel shrugged.
“He was never around long enough for me to ask him. He’d kind of just drop in, tell us what to do, make sure we all knew Luke was his favorite, and then leave. That’s just how it was.”
“You have any guardians?”
“No. Michael was old enough by the time dad left. He hates Luke. Luke hates him too. Sometimes I swear those two are gonna kill each other.”
Castiel swiped his card in the lock, the light shone green, and he opened the door to their room. The nice thing about their room was that it was much bigger than an ordinary hotel room. They had plenty of space to move around, a slightly bigger TV, a microwave, a fridge, a coffee machine, a minibar, a table with two chairs, a stuffed chair and a lamp in the corner, and a window with a nice view over the city. The bathroom was pretty nice too. Dean enjoyed the water pressure in the shower. There was also a big dresser between the two beds, and a dresser that the TV was on. The beds were almost too soft for Dean to get used to.
“You’re joking,” Dean said, hoping he was right.
“Sure.”
His partner didn’t sound too convinced.
“First shower?” Castiel called, drawing an end to their conversation.
It was a question, but he always did this, so Dean just nodded, and let him have it.
He sunk down onto his bed, not caring that he was sweaty—besides, he figured he might have to be up all night getting those hits right. Dean did okay with their other song, which was a jazz routine, and Cas did too. That one wasn’t so bad. It was a story about two dudes, two roommates who wanted to get takeout but couldn’t agree on where to order from, and the props were numerous amounts of food menus that would get all over the stage by the end of the song. There was also a fake phone involved, with a power cord, and a little bit of tying up, with Dean being the one to get tied up. Go figure. Cas, always the one in charge. It made Dean want to slap him sometimes.
But the way he grew up. It sounded hard.
Maybe they weren’t so different.
~~~
“I’ll go.”
“Excuse me?”
Dean had just gotten out of the shower and was in a pair of shorts. It was hot outside given that the beginning of the live show wasn’t that long after summer break started up, and for some reason Castiel had steamed up the bathroom before Dean had gone in. He didn’t really feel like putting a shirt on at the moment, just wanted to lounge around until he cooled off. Castiel was sitting at the table, with his phone out, writing what looked like notes on the little pad of paper provided by the hotel.
“To dinner. I’ll get dinner with you.”
“As friends?”
“As friends.”
Dean sat down and ran a hand through his still-wet hair. “So uh… what ya thinking? Burgers?”
“No, I cut red meat out of my diet.”
“Pizza?”
“Too many carbs, and you can get bloated from dairy.”
Dean sighed, sitting back in his chair. “Come on, do you ever have fun?”
“I’m just trying to stay fit.”
Dean gestured down at his body. “Look at me, I’m fine, and I eat what I want.”
Castiel scrolled through his phone, frowned at what he found there, and then his lips turned down in a little pout. He placed it down on the table.
“Burgers?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Dude, you serious?”
Castiel rubbed at the table with one finger, and Dean couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his hands were. Well, he’d noticed before. He’d happened to watch Castiel’s audition over and over again, watched the strong hands that moved his partner Hanna, lifted her in the air, twirled her around, pulled her close, pushed her away, told her where to go.
Hanna hadn’t made it, and Dean could see why—her lines weren’t precise enough—but Cas? Wow.
“They’re kind of my favorite. It’s why I cut them out.”
“Oh, dude, now we have to go!”
“Great, grab a shirt.”
“Nah, I was thinking I should go out like this. The ladies love it.”
“But I won’t.”
Dean gave Castiel a knowing look, just to tease, not sure how serious he was being about this. “Come on, what’s not to love about this?”
“Dean.”
“What?”
“Shirt. Now.”
“Fine, but when we get to contemporary, your hands are gonna be all over this.”
Castiel frowned at him, but it wasn’t out of anger. His eyes were squinting in the way he did when he was confused, head tilting. It was… cute.
“Are you trying to seduce me?”
“If I would my bed would be a mess right now.”
A strange noise left Castiel, maybe a growl, and he covered it up by clearing his throat. In a few seconds Dean was nearly one-hundred percent sure he’d imagined it. Nearly.
~~~
Dinner with Castiel was… interesting. That was one way to put it. He ate a lot. Dean did too, of course. He always did, which he chalked up to the fact that he was a big dude who spent most of the day working out. It was made worse by the fact that they didn’t talk, both of them looking at their phones. Dean couldn’t help himself and was looking through that tag on Twitter that Castiel had shown him earlier. It was… somewhat terrible.
He placed his phone in his pocket, trying to ignore it, but he was starting to realize something.
“So what you said earlier, about me not getting the hits,” Dean began, “I was thinking of heading down to the studio to work on ‘em tonight.”
“You know you need me for that.”
Dean shrugged. “Figured I’d use a broom.”
“That only works in movies.”
“What? It was gonna be a sexy broom.”
Castiel wiped his mouth on his napkin, and placed it down with a sigh.
“Do you want my help?”
Now Dean was interested in his French fries, and he stuffed a few in his mouth.
He mumbled a response, not sure how he was supposed to explain to his partner that beneath all his joking he was actually nervous about Castiel being better with this dance than him, “No’ rea’y.”
“Dean, you’re not a ballroom dancer.”
“And?”
“And, do you want to get voted off?”
“Hmm, let me see…” Dean began, taking out his phone again. He opened up Twitter once more, and searched for the hashtag he was looking for. What he found was just as overwhelming as it had been a minute ago, some of it embarrassing, some of it cute, some of it a little too much, and some people needed to get banned from Twitter. “‘At 5678, OMG, Dean and Cass are the cutest! Hashtag Destiel, hashtag season fifteen winners,’” Dean read. “Ha, she spelled your name like ass.”
“Let me see that.”
Castiel grabbed the phone from him, and Dean tried to reach for it, but his partner had already drawn it back. He was hurriedly reading, scrolling with his thumb.
“’Castiel needs to bone Dean, hashtag Destiel’? ‘Cas and Dean equals hashtag Destiel’. ‘Hashtag Destiel for season fifteen winners’ ‘Hashtag Destiel…’ ‘Hashtag Destiel…’ ‘Hashtag Destiel…’ ‘Hashtag season fifteen winners. They do know there can only be one winner, right?”
Dean took his phone back, mouthed, thank you, rather pointedly, and scrolled to one of the Tweets he’d seen earlier, and then showed it to Cas.
He read: “’Hashtag Destiel, pull a hashtag Katniss and Peeta, hashtag Season fifteen winners.’ How would that even work?” he asked.
Dean shrugged, turning his phone around.
“Point is, they want us to go all Hunger Games, so I don’t think I’m getting voted off anytime soon.”
“But we’ve literally just started the show,” Castiel pointed out.
“I don’t know, Cas, people are crazy.”
To Dean’s surprise a small smile alit Cas’ face.
“What? What is it?”
“On Twitter,” he began to explain, “when they call me Cas I hate it, but when you say it… I really like it.”
For the first time in awhile, Dean had no response to that, and he lowered his face to try and hide his blush, especially since he was sure he could feel Castiel’s inquisitive eyes on him.
“Dean, are you sure you don’t want help tonight?”
“I just… when I joined I told myself I could do it all on my own, you know? And now I’m finding out that that ain’t so easy. Hell, you’re not so easy.” Castiel’s eyes were wide when Dean looked up, maybe slightly scandalized, and he realized his mistake. With a laugh that pushed aside some of his insecurities for the moment, he went on, “No, no, not like that. I’m keeping it PG here. For now.” He winked at the last words jokingly, before going on, “But seriously, I want to be your roommate, and your partner, and do the best I can, but… asking for help, especially from the guy who I thought didn’t like me at first—”
“I didn’t.”
“Great, yeah, that helps.”
“But I do now. Very much so.”
“Look, I’m just not used to asking for help. I always had to do everything on my, especially with looking out for my little brother. The partnering thing that we’re being asked to do, that’s new for me.”
Castiel’s hand reached out across the table, and for a moment Dean just stared dumbly at it. What, did he expect them to hold hands?
Cas cleared his throat after an awkward silence, and pulled his hand back.
“You didn’t tell me you had a brother.”
“Yeah, he’ll be starting his sophomore year in high school soon. Kid has barely hit his growth spurt yet. Growing up, I… I was the one really looking out for him. And I guess I really want to win so I could give him that prize money, make his life better.”
“That’s a beautiful reason for winning, Dean.”
“Eh, maybe the other one isn’t so beautiful. I also just want to prove to myself that I can do what I want to do, that I don’t have to be like…” He trailed off, realizing where this conversation was going.
“Like?” Castiel prompted.
Dean shook his head. “Never mind. Look, you done with your burger? Maybe… Maybe I could use a partner tonight.”
The warm smile that Cas gave him had affection Dean wasn’t used to blooming in his chest. “Of course, Dean.”
~~~
After paying they headed back to their room to grab their stuff, and then they went to the studio. A few of the other contestants were there, including Benny who was a jazz dancer, and his roommate Zach, a tap-dancer (Dean couldn’t roll his eyes hard enough at that). Zach’s partner Rowena, the ballerina was there as well. All of them were so focused that Dean and Cas didn’t bother saying hi. They just got their own room and set to work.
It was a bit easier to practice without the slight fear that cameras were going to show up at any minute to film some clips for the next episode. Though, they’d already had their time in front of the cameras of course, and then there were the interviews. If Dean relaxed enough he really began to feel like a celebrity. Though despite how fun it could be he still found it easy to stick to his purpose. Win for Sammy, and maybe win for himself along the way.
“Okay, okay…” Castiel called, grabbing Dean’s hips to stop him. “No, just… move with my hands. We can start slow.”
Focused, Dean did as Castiel said, letting his strong hands guide his hips left to right as they counted, and he paid attention to how far out he made them go.
“Good, so bring it up to the tempo, and keep it just like that.”
Feeling what he was supposed to be doing instead of just being told or shown really helped, and Dean found that he was soon really getting it.
They danced till they had the song beating in their blood, till they were sweating, and their bodies were sore.
While they sat on the floor, taking a water break, Dean pat Cas on the thigh, delighted and exuberant from their practice session so far. And it was good to have a partner who he knew had his back.
“You’re really good,” Castiel said. “I think what you want to do for your brother, it’s a really good thing, but you shouldn’t forget yourself.”
Dean slowly put his water bottle down, and found himself meeting his eyes, unable to tear his gaze away. Some kind of odd feeling was fluttering in his stomach, and he felt warm all over, and not just from the workout.
“This kind of show, you don’t just audition because you want money. You want to go through the experience, and really feel what it’s like to be a professional dancer, to do what you love. I can tell this is what you love. So don’t forget that.”
“Wow, Cas, uh… Wow.”
“What?”
“You can get pretty deep and sentimental, is all.”
“Perhaps one of us has to.”
“Or… or both of us could,” Dean ventured. Castiel was silent now, his full attention on Dean, not even drinking from his water bottle. “I do want this for myself. I do. And the reason is… well, my dad—he never went easy on me. Ever. I’m not sure he even likes me. It… it makes it difficult for me to like myself. I just want to show myself that I don’t have to be like him, that I can do something I enjoy and feel good about. I want to feel good about myself, Cas. But it’s hard, you know? It’s really, really hard. But when I dance, I forget all of that, even for those few minutes I’m up on stage.”
Castiel leaned his head back against the wall. “Sometimes I think I’m just doing this to make my dad proud, or to make myself useful to the family.”
“What was that you said about not forgetting yourself?”
Cas cracked a grin, and gave a gentle laugh, despite the pain etched onto his face.
“Wow, we’re both kind of a mess, aren’t we?”
Dean stood, and held out his hand, “I think that’s the best part.”
Castiel reached up for Dean, even that movement so graceful. When Dean pulled him up, Castiel surprised him by saying, “Hey, I’m a little sick of this dance for now. How about you show me some contemporary?”
“We really should work on ballroom.”
“We have the rest of the week. I know we’ll get it.”
Feeling excitement beginning to bloom in his chest, anticipation ready to burst, Dean went to get a song up. And he kept that feeling inside himself, willing it to spread to all his limbs. He would use that, use what he felt to put it into his body. With his body he could say things he never knew how to put into words.
A slight blush crept onto Dean’s face when the first line started, SYML singing, “Darling, please, take my hand.” With his hand held out, Castiel took it.
Castiel had done some training in contemporary, and he picked up the lesson easily. Before long, Dean was admiring Cas’ extensions even while he did his own work, and then they’d come together again, or push each other apart as the song dictated. They held each other, touched each other, all of Dean’s body understanding what all of Cas’ body was saying, and he was sure it was vice versa.
Time slowed, even as it rushed by in heated motions and achingly precise movements. The song became everything to Dean, and when Cas fumbled, he was right there to pull him close, or to come up from behind him, and hold out his arm or his leg for him, positioning it with the tempo.
When the next song began they still danced in Dean’s style, Cas clearly enjoying it, figuring things out as he went along. The next song was “Can’t Pretend” by Tom Odell, and when the chorus hit Dean was surprised to see Castiel positioned to beckon Dean into a controlled leap that Castiel would carry him through.
Dean wasn’t even nervous that they’d never done lifts before, even though it’d been something that had been itching at the back of his mind earlier in the day. Towards the end of the lift Cas’ arms shook, and he fumbled it, and Dean went down. He laughed, pulling Cas with him. Cas landed on top of him, his face so close to Dean’s as they laughed.
“Oh, feel our bodies grow / And our souls they play / Yeah, love, I hope you know / How much my heart depends / But I guess that’s love, I can’t pretend / I can’t pretend, oh…”
Feeling the music, the moment, laughing as he was trapped on the floor beneath Castiel, his body already starting to throb a bit from the fall, he kissed him.
And Cas kissed back.
“I guess that’s love, I can’t pretend / I can’t pretend, oh.”
For that moment, winning didn’t matter. Only what Dean wanted right here, and right now did, what Cas wanted, the music, the welcoming exhaustion in his muscles, the sweat glistening on their skin. For that moment, Dean was glad to have Cas as his partner. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
#au_gust#au_gust_2021#spn#supernatural#destiel#destiel fanfiction#destiel au#spn fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#tw: implied/referenced child abuse#tw: undiagnosed eating disorder#tw: homophobic slur#fanfiction#writing#my writing
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