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physalian · 10 days

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“Why doesn’t the villain just kill the heroes?”

Ah, plot armor. If you want to be a real go-getter and think up a more creative way for the heroes to always narrowly escape death out of sheer dumb luck, the villain being too slow on the draw, or the villain simply not thinking of it in the moment, you have to come up with a reason for why the villain doesn’t just kill the hero.

Four examples today.

1. Zhao & Aang

In “The Blue Spirit,” Aang is captured by Zhao, a man normally not above anything to further his agenda, including murder. The Avatar is the largest obstacle in his way, second to the Earth Kingdom, and all he has to do to take Aang off the gameboard is to kill a twelve-year-old. He’s got Aang in chains, not quite powerless but harmless enough, and could do it quickly.

So why doesn’t he? Per Zhao himself, if he kills Aang, the Avatar cycle will continue, born into some random water bender that may take them years to track down. Sure, they’ll be harmless for a few years and the Fire Nation might get lucky and find them easily, perhaps even sway the new one to their side, but what if the waterbending Avatar is born into the Foggy Swamp? Or they end up having to kill them, too, and then have to track down an earthbending Avtar across the entire Earth Kingdom? Does Zhao really want to take that chance when he can just keep Aang alive? Just barely?

Of course not.

Killing the hero in this case might stop the immediate threat, but it will just delay the inevitable, thus it’s in the villain’s best interest to exploit a loophole while likely committing war crimes in the process. He gets to secure a Fire Nation victory and make Aang suffer for the rest of his life.

Ozai doesn't kill Aang until the first chance he gets, which just so happens to be the series finale. And we all know why Aang has a no-kill policy.

2. Sam, Dean & The Angels and Demons

Hahaha it’s the show known for its refusal to kill its heroes. We’re gonna ignore everything past season 5. There’s obviously meta reasons—kill the main characters and you have zero supporting cast that could realistically take over the show.

But in season 4, despite multiple deaths already for both of them, so begins the “if you die we’ll just bring you back” threat, because they’re angels and angels can do that. Similar to Aang, Sam and Dean risk a fate far worse than death if they don’t cooperate with Zachariah’s plans. He happily gives them both a slew of diseases and illnesses to get his way whenever he gets the chance and reminds them both that if they just kill themselves to escape the Apocalypse, he’ll happily revive them. The Demons won't kill Sam and Dean because they're necessary to further their own plans by breaking certain seals on Lucifer's cage, though they're not above breaking bones and killing bystanders.

Fate worse than death is a popular threat, but usually the heroes offing themselves is still a viable, if deeply unpopular, option. Supernatural removes it entirely and for such a simple little detail, it does a lot to make their survivability believable.

3. Batman & Joker

Ahh the age old furious rant by people who don’t understand Batman: If Batman killed his villains they’d stop busting out of Arkham and murdering innocent civilians, Batman has so much blood on his hands—

Babe. Babe, he’s a comic book character. By his very nature, he can’t kill his villains otherwise he’d have no rogues gallery. Comic books are like a giant board of Monopoly, going around in circles and occasionally having a timeout in jail.

But the in universe reason there’s no killing has been essayed about extensively and so has why Joker doesn’t try harder to kill him, but I couldn’t not include these two. Batman does not kill because he is not judge, jury, and executioner of his villains, most of whom have mental health issues and while they certainly know better and their crimes aren’t justified, his villains need actual therapy and help and medication, not death. Even those who he might agree must be stopped and there’s no other way except murder, Batman himself will not be the one to pull the trigger. He must remain a hero, so that no matter who he comes across in the dark alleyways of Gotham, they know he’s not here to kill them, be it criminal or victim.

Joker doesn’t kill Batman for a much simpler reason, and Heath Ledger literally says it: “I won’t kill you because you’re too much fun.” He does not need a more convoluted reason, he enjoys the game, the chase, the tug of war (most versions of him, at least) and to kill Batman would be to end his greatest form of entertainment, and the only person probably in the whole world who is neither afraid of Joker nor dismissive of him as simply a freak.

4. Optimus and Megatron

Optimus Prime and Megatron are very similar to Batman and Joker but with literal eons of history between them. In most serialized Transformers media, as opposed to movies where the plot is more urgent, Megatron both wants to win Optimus over and just can't quite let himself finally win. Who is he without his rival, after all this time?

Optimus is in the same boat, refusing to kill him because he's still holding out hope for Megatron's redemption, that there's a peaceful way to end this war (no matter how much collateral both leaders end up causing). Shit gets real whenever Optimus breaks the unspoken rules of their no-kill rivalry and Megatron gets incredibly pissy about it because he's in love.

—

Suggestions to workshop this plot hole in your own narrative:

The hero staying alive is absolutely paramount to the villain’s plan (in which case, you have to have rock solid reasons for why they keep narrowly escaping capture)

The villain is so confident in their plan that they don’t even consider the hero a proper threat

The villain doesn't really have a bodycount, but if they kill the hero, suddenly all the other powers that be will take them seriously and they'll have a huge mess on their hands

The villain is so full of themselves or so in love with their rival that it’d break their heart to have to kill them just to win

The villain is simply not capable of murder either physically or morally (perhaps because the hero is a child)

Killing the hero would make them a martyr and the villain would end up with a far bigger mess on their hands when the lone hero is replaced with an avenging army

The villain is too proud to simply kill the hero and wants to win fairly in a proper fight on the battlefield and not take the cheap and easy shot

The villain does not have a phyiscal form or real presence in the plot, acting through their minions, and their minions are incompetent

It’s simply not fun if the hero dies/the hero is the only one who understands them and they’d lose far more than they’d gain by killing them

The villain still wants to try and win the hero over and is so dedicated to this path that they regularly sabotage their own plans desperate to change the hero’s mind

The villain firmly believes in a fate worse than death and while the hero’s survival isn’t crucial to the main plan, they want the hero to watch their own failure/become the villain’s minion/ prisoner/ partner by the end

There’s a million examples out there to pull from and I could keep listing them all night. So long as whatever it is doesn’t come out of nowhere or open a plot hole of “why didn’t they just do that earlier?” you can get quite creative.

One last example that’s a personal favorite of mine to implement: In Eternal Night of the Northern Sky there aren’t too many opportunities to ask this question, but when it does arise, Villain A has Hero B as a meat shield, and while Hero B’s love interest, Hero C, is more than happy to shoot through them to incapacitate Villain A, the person they take orders from isn’t so reckless, which later leads to Drama and Issues.

#writing #writeblr #writing a book #writing advice #writing resources #writing tools #writing tips #writing villains #heroes and villains #plot holes #deus ex machina

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starrysky28 · 7 months

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RE2 Leon Kennedy SFW Alphabet (A-M)

A/N: Just something I'm trying once again. Somewhat similar to what I did a few months back with the Genshin character hcs.

Warnings: None really, other than mentions of drinking in E.

Enjoy!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I'd say he's affectionate to a moderate degree. Not completely devoid of it, but also not totally clingy. I think he's a bit awkward, y'know? He'd definitely show affection by comforting or helping others when they're upset or stressed (or hurt), It's just in his nature.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He'd be a pretty chill best friend. Very typical "childhood guy best friend" vibe about him. The friendship might start before Raccoon City, most likely when you two were younger.

Though, if you were there to survive the incident with him, I think there would be a possibility of the relationship becoming something even more than best friends...

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Kinda tying into the affection one, he wouldn't really cuddle much if he didn't know you too well, but if he happened to be more comfortable with you, he'd be more than happy to cuddle with you if you asked him to.

He'd be pretty gentle with cuddling. Maybe in the form of casually slinging an arm around you while you two watch a movie, or laying in your lap while you play with his hair (I think he'd especially like that tbh)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Before Raccoon City happened, I think he envisioned eventually getting married to someone and having a kid or two. Now, he's not so sure he'd be ready for something like that after all that he went through.

As for cooking, I think coming from an Italian family, he'd be a really good cook. I can imagine a recipe or two may have been passed down to him before the death of his parents.

Cleaning on the other hand....oh boy. Honestly, I don't think he'd be a total slob, but I think he'd procrastinate on tidying up more than a few times...

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I think he would avoid being the one to do it. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you in some way, so unless he was certain you two were on the same page about it, he wouldn't want to break things off right away.

On a separate note, I don't think he handles being broken up with the greatest either (ie: coping by getting drunk and almost missing your first day of work *ahem, ahem*)

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He's very loyal so I think he'd have no particular problems about commitment if and when the time comes. However, he's only 21 and recently survived a zombie apocalypse, so I don't think getting married is the first thing on his mind at the moment.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's a pretty gentle guy physically, but since joining the force, had developed thick skin when it comes to more dire or serious situations.

It takes quite a bit to get him emotional, though I feel like even in the years following the incident, he'd cry most often in private to avoid showing vulnerability around others.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He likes hugs but doesn't receive them often. He does, however give others hugs if they need them.

His hugs are very soft. He's got strong arms from training at the police academy, but he knows not to squeeze the life out of you lol.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He’d say it early on, but not too early. I feel like “I love you” would be something he’d first confess in the heat of the moment, though he’d also accidentally (and awkwardly) make implications that he likes you pre-relationship.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

For jealousy, I think he wouldn’t seem like the type of guy to get jealous, but you’d be wrong on that.

It’s another one of those things that builds up on the inside for him. He’d make subtle but snarky comments and facial expressions related to whatever he’s jealous about. Though, if you confront him about it, he’ll deny it.

“What? Jealous? I’m not jealous, what makes you think that?!”

“Leon, you’ve been pouting this whole time”

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

I think he'd be a gentle kisser. He would also have soft, almost feminine lips, though I think they'd get chapped a bit easily too.

He loves kissing you on your forehead and cheeks the most. I feel like his ex wasn't super affectionate with him, so he feels most special being peppered with kisses on his face and neck.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Despite being an only child and probably growing up mostly around other adults, I think he'd be pretty good with kids for the most part.

He would seem a bit inexperienced, but definitely tried his best to become more experienced during the time he took care of Sherry.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Definitely wakes up early, it's something he does out of pure habit from having to wake up at the crack of dawn at the police academy.

Has trouble sleeping in on days he doesn't have to wake up early, though if he had it his way, he would.

As for spending it with him, I feel like he's the type of guy to force himself to go for runs in the morning. I can imagine that you'd be inclined to join him on occasion.

N-Z will be coming soon!

#resident evil #resident evil 2 #re2 #re2 remake #leon kennedy #re2 leon #fluff #sfw alphabet #resident evil headcanons #never done this before #I hope I did well at least

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theprinceandagcd · 10 months

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home is where the heart is (but God I love the English)

Summary: Alex's relationship with "London Boy" by Taylor Swift is an emotional journey.

Words: 4,026

ao3 link

Notes: via @KeptinOnZeBridg on Twitter: "alex continuously teasing henry with taylor swift's "london boy" and singing it over and over again when they shop, when they get to bed, when they cook, and when their friends are over"

So. Anyway. I'm not entirely sure what this is? Is it a crack fic? It might be a crack fic. I hope you like it anyway. I do :)

----

you know I love a London boy

I enjoy walking Soho, drinking in the afternoon

he likes my American smile

like a child, when our eyes meet

darling, I fancy you

----

Alex wouldn’t consider himself a Swiftie, necessarily.

June has been obsessed since they were little and still in Texas – Alex has distinct memories of her strumming a guitar and covering Our Song repeatedly because it was the only song she learned at the time. When Taylor Swift stopped in D.C. for the Reputation tour the year after his mom get elected, he’d tagged along with June and Nora, dressed in all black at the girls’ insistence to fit the vibes.

It’d been fine. He’d had a good time.

But he doesn’t know her entire discography and only pretends to keep up when someone starts diving into the Taylor Swift lore, like who her best exes are or why there were five holes in a fence in an Instagram photo years ago. Her music is good, and he doesn’t actively want to turn it off most of the time when he hears it – he doesn’t understand why that can’t be the end of the conversation.

Still, when Lover comes out in late August of 2019, only a week after he had to clean cake out of places he never wanted to clean cake out of, he finds himself lounging back on June’s unnecessarily fluffy pillows, Nora and June both curled up near the foot of the bed with June’s phone as midnight rolls around. Snacks are scattered around them, like they’re preparing for some kind of fucking apocalypse instead of listening to a pop album. He’s got his HRH Prince Henry fact sheet open on his lap as they start playing the first track for the first time, because he’s here for the snacks and to make June happy, and he’s supposed to be committing this stuff to memory at the same time.

The album isn’t bad. He nods his head along to some of the songs, taps his fingers in tune with a few, and he doesn’t really offer a lot of commentary.

“Okay, this next one is… London Boy.” He isn’t looking, but he feels June’s eyes on the side of his face. “Ooh, wonder if it’s about your new best friend.”

Alex frowns, glancing up at her. “What?”

“Henry, obviously,” June says, grinning around a mouthful of Pop-tart. She gestures vaguely toward the file in his hand. “Doesn't he qualify as a London boy?”

“There’s at least a ninety percent probability that it’s about her boyfriend,” Nora supplies, unhelpfully, as she rips open a bag of skittles.

“And the other ten percent?” June tilts her head and smirks, clearly enjoying this too much.

“I’d say like, eight percent that it’s Harry Styles.”

“And?”

“Probably at least one percent that it’s Henry." Nora shrugs. "He’s the more attractive option of the two royal English men within a decent age range.”

June turns back to Alex, eyebrows raised high on her forehead. “See, there’s a chance.”

“Just play the goddamn song, Bug.”

Nora throws a yellow skittle at his head. “Boo, party pooper.”

June plays the song, as requested, and it’s good.

Except.

Except it’s a little too... boppy for his taste.

Except now he’s stuck thinking about pristine blonde hair and stupid blue eyes and an upturned perfect nose because June has made the association in his brain before he’d even been able to give the song a chance. He breathes in deep through his nose and stares at the words in front of him and tries to push down the irritation rising in his chest. Random facts about Prince Henry are staring back up at him, mocking him and reminding him that he has to fix this stupid mess that wasn’t even his fault.

Well, not really.

“It was cute,” Nora says once the song has stopped.

Alex just shrugs. “It’s not my favorite. Next.”

He pretends not to see the glare that June shoots at him. It’s easier than trying to figure out why his stomach is in knots just from thinking about Henry.

It's probably just pure annoyance.

----

Taylor Swift has bad timing.

On January 3rd, two days after Henry kissed him on New Years’, Alex is antsy and irritable and needs to distract himself because he's definitely being ghosted. So, he’s trying to get a head start on reading for his classes that don’t start for another fucking week because he has to do something when Idris Elba’s voice comes through the speaker playing a random pop playlist on Spotify.

He hates that he recognizes it immediately, even though he’s pretty sure he’s only heard it twice since it came out. Even more, he hates the way it immediately makes him feel.

His stomach drops and twists, and the book he was holding slips from his hands because they’re suddenly damp and he can’t hold onto it. He fumbles in his hurry to slam his hand on the volume down button of the offending piece of technology, and the book crashes to the floor beside his desk, loud and jarring. The silence that follows offers little comfort, the tune still playing in his head, echoing between his ears.

Reflexively, he unlocks his phone and opens his message thread with Henry, reading back over the texts he’s sent – questions of if Henry is alive and if they can talk and—nothing. No new messages or missed calls or even a fucking like on his most recent Instagram post. That had been a stretch, he knows - a desperate attempt to get anything from Henry, but the radio silence has only continued. It feels like he’s lost something, something monumental, which is fucking stupid because they weren’t anything, not really. Acquaintances, at best. Fake friends, at worst.

It’s what Alex tells himself.

It doesn’t feel true.

He counts out four minutes in ten second intervals in his head and then turns the volume back up on his speaker. Another song has started playing, one that doesn’t remind him of cold air and warm hands on his cheeks and soft lips pressed to his underneath a tree in the White House garden.

It’s another story, he guesses, if that’s all he can think about anyway, regardless of what song plays. He’ll still blame Taylor Swift for the crack in his chest that he presses a hand to as he picks his book back up, opening it up and not comprehending a single goddamn word.

Maybe he should have just let the stupid song play. He feels like shit already, anyway.

----

He plays it for Henry in Paris, just to annoy him.

They’re eating apricots and tarts and laughing curled up together on the bedspread in their robes and nothing else, and Alex gives Henry an airpod and they go back and forth picking songs. Alex pokes fun at Henry’s Bowie choices and Henry rolls his eyes when Alex plays the Beatles, but they’re giggling and it’s stupid, really, how this moment feels stuck in time. He knows minutes are passing and he knows Henry will have to leave soon, but their heads are tucked close together and Henry’s palm is warm on Alex’s leg, and he wishes they could just stay here forever.

Here feels like somewhere else, safe from prying eyes and people who wouldn’t understand. Here, they’re just two boys curled together in a Paris hotel room that are friends, that sort of understand each other, that know what the other tastes like when they come and where to kiss to make the other squirm. It’s a little terrifying, this feeling blooming in his chest and expanding. It feels beautiful and fragile, and Alex isn’t sure he’s capable of not fucking it up.

It would be on brand for him, if he’s being honest.

So, he types the song name into his search bar and clicks play. He cuts his eyes up at Henry with a grin, because this is supposed to be something casual, not something that makes him feel like he might die if he loses it. The song is just silly enough, and Henry rolls his eyes and shoves him away, complaining that he needs to take a shower before he heads out.

He hands Alex back his airpod and gets up, but he smiles at Alex before he disappears into the bathroom. Alex lets the song finish playing as he hears the shower turn on, and part of him kind of wants to take off his own robe and join him. Henry would probably let him, but Alex has already skirted the edge of what this is supposed to be this morning, when he watched Henry sleep and traced the ridges of his spine with his fingertips.

Taylor sings “you know I love a London boy” in his right ear, the other airpod tucked into his fist, and Alex, for just a moment, wonders if he could.

Or if he’d even be allowed.

----

The song haunts Alex on his worst day.

When Henry leaves the lakehouse, the rest of them stay for one more day, like they had planned originally. Alex asks to leave and let them enjoy the last day without him, but everyone refuses to let him go anywhere by himself, and Alex doesn’t want to ruin their vacation, too.

He’s pretty sure he already has.

Nora and June hover around him, and he tries to humor them, but his heart feels torn open and shattered. No, his heart feels gone, ripped from his chest and halfway across the Atlantic by now, probably. He wonders if Henry has cried over him at all, too, or if leaving was easy for him. Has he thought about texting Alex back? Has he stared at their text message thread and considered responding and giving Alex any semblance of an answer? Of a reason?

Does he understand what Alex has lost?

If, he thinks bleakly, he ever had it to begin with.

Alex lets his sister and best friend pull him onto the porch, into the warm sun that does nothing for how cold he feels, and Nora turns on some music, and he tries very hard not to open his Instagram and scroll through Henry’s feed, and he tries very hard not to wonder what he did wrong, and he tries very hard not to cry.

“We could go driving in, on my scooter-“

A broken noise slips past Alex’s lips before Nora can grab her phone and change the song. The door slams forcefully when Alex runs inside, before he's even realized that he was moving, into the room that still fucking smells like Henry. Pain laces through his scalp and – oh – he was pulling his hair. He squeezes his hands into tight fists and presses them into his eyes as his tears start to fall and fall and fall.

He was so fucking stupid.

It’s like he can still hear the godforsaken lyrics even though he knows the song was turned off, taunting him, words about loving British mannerisms and “just wanna be with you”s, and he isn’t sure how he read it so wrong, how he misunderstood the way that Henry had looked at him, how he’d let himself fall in love with someone who never planned on being there to catch him.

He curls up in Henry’s bunk and cries into one of the last things that Henry touched that he still has with him, ignoring June when she knocks on the door, apologizing profusely.

It doesn’t matter.

None of it matters.

----

The song winds up being a comfort when he needs it.

Curled into a seat on a private plane the night after dancing with Henry at the Victoria and Albert Museum, Alex slots his airpods into his ears and plays music to try to calm his racing thoughts. He brings his hand up to his sternum, feels the lump of the key and ring hiding under his shirt and clings to that feeling, that hope.

“I want you to know, I'm sure. A thousand percent."

If Alex closes his eyes, he can still feel Henry’s soft jacket underneath his fingertips, the way his palms had slid into the dips in Henry’s waist as they’d shuffled back and forth around some of the most beautiful art in the world. Or, at least, Alex assumes it is. He didn’t see much of it, too focused on Henry, on making sure he took advantage of every second that he was allowed to hold him, to press kisses into his cheeks and jaw and neck, to love him the way he deserved to be loved.

The way that Alex is going to love him forever.

He isn’t really paying attention to what’s playing, until his brain registers a familiar cadence, and he realizes that London Boy is playing.

It makes him laugh, quick and surprised, the immediate visceral reaction almost making him skip it. But, the song plays, “but something happened, I heard him laughing, I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent” and his finger stops over the button. It’s catchy, for one. It’s true, for another.

A lot of things will probably remind him of Henry breaking his heart in Texas, at least for a while - the lake house, bunk beds, this song. He can't change what happened, but he's certainly changed his perceptions before. He did, after all, spend the first twenty-one years of his life thinking that he was straight and now he has a boyfriend.

Things can change.

He leans back against his headrest and lets the song play, humming along. Cash shoots him a funny look from his seat, but Alex just looks out the window and breathes and creates a new memory for the song – a feeling of elation, of knowing that the future is uncertain except for one thing, the one thing that Alex is more sure of than he’s ever been of anything. Before the song ends, he takes a screenshot of the Spotify app as it plays and sends it to Henry, texting, miss you already xo

Henry’s response is quick: I’m never going to escape that bloody song, am I?

Alex grins. not if you’re with me, baby.

Guess I’ll just learn to love it, then. And then, immediately after: I miss you, too.

----

Henry doesn’t escape it.

June plays London Boy on purpose after the inauguration in January, her grin wide and wicked. Alex lolls his head onto Henry’s shoulder and sings along immediately, poking at his side until that beautiful fucking smile pulls up his boyfriend’s features.

“You’re a menace to society,” is what Henry says, but his cheeks are pink and his lips are warm when he presses them to Alex’s temple.

Alex just buries his face into Henry’s neck, pressing his own kiss to the soft skin there, before trailing up to Henry’s ear and, around a giggle, whisper-singing, “Dahling, I fancy you.”

Henry shakes his head, but his eyes are bright, and his grin is infectious, and Alex just wants to live in this moment forever. His mom and Leo are somewhere – grabbing champagne, he thinks. Nora is curled up on Alex’s other side, and June is sitting on the ottoman in front of them with her phone in her hand, and Henry’s arm is looped around Alex’s waist from where he sits next to him, and it’s everything.

He swallows past the sudden emotion in his throat and then laughs as June and Nora grab remotes and start using them as microphones, serenading Henry until his blush has spread all the way down his neck. They love him, too, Alex knows, and as he joins in with them, singing loudly and off-key, he thinks that this is what Henry deserves – to be loved this fully and wholly and unconditionally and, sometimes, a little comically. Nora leans over Alex’s lap to ruffle Henry’s hair during the bridge of the song, and Alex presses his “just wanna be with youuu” into the crinkle at the corner of Henry’s eye. June fakes a gagging motion, but then she gets up and smacks a kiss on Henry’s opposite cheek, which makes him splutter as he pushes her away.

During the last chorus, he glances over at Alex, as if in need of salvation, but Alex just smirks. Henry rolls his eyes, but the hand around Alex’s waist squeezes as the song ends, and Nora and June devolve into a giggling fit just as his mom and Leo appear with a bottle of champagne and 6 glasses. They toast their wins, all of them, including Henry, who flushes but clinks his glasses with everyone.

They’re all talking over each other and it’s chaotic and messy but there’s still something warm and tangible beating through his veins, comfortable and encompassing. Alex looks over at Henry, who smiles and laces their fingers together like it’s the easiest thing in the world before giving his attention back to Leo, and Alex knows – it’s home.

----

Alex adds London Boy to their move in playlist when they’re putting all of their things in the brownstone, credenzas and way too many shoes and everything in between coming together in a jumble that will probably take them weeks to work through.

But it’s their stuff and their mess, and unpacking boxes with Henry feels nearly therapeutic, like the culmination of everything that they had to go through to have this, a home that belongs to both of them, closets that they share, and decisions that they get to make together.

Henry lets him craft the playlist, which is a mistake on his part, but Alex takes advantage and then bides his time, waiting patiently as they unpack boxes and rearrange furniture and argue over which cabinet the ceramic bowls should go in, which is so fucking domestic that Alex actually kisses Henry mid-argument, fingers curling around the back of his neck as he licks into his mouth. Henry’s hands flutter for a moment around Alex’s shoulders before settling around his waist, and Alex’s grin breaks their lips apart.

Henry swallows, eyes dark. “Um, I-“

“Put the bowls wherever you want, baby.”

The bowls go on the counter, for the time being, as Henry drops to his knees, and they christen their kitchen before they’ve even finished unpacking the first box.

Later, London Boy starts playing while Henry is setting up their coffee and tea bar and Alex is stacking glass cups in the cabinet beside the refrigerator. Immediately, Alex puts the dishes down and grabs Henry around the waist, effectively pulling him away from his work and into Alex’s arms.

“What are you – oh my – Christ, Alex, really?”

Alex laughs as recognition flashes in Henry’s eyes, keeping one hand in Henry’s as he twirls himself around once. Henry’s arm winds around his middle as he comes back, and then he’s rocking back and forth with Alex, silly and perfect and his. Alex is so deliriously happy as he obnoxiously sings the lyrics, feeling like he’s holding everything he's ever wanted in the palm of his hand.

And, well. He guesses he is.

----

It becomes a bit, something Alex always knows he can do to get a smile out of Henry. He’ll play their stupid song, and sing it off-key in Henry’s ear, and they’ll dance around their kitchen or their living room or their bedroom or whatever space they find themselves in. Henry eventually even stops complaining, unless he’s critiquing the accent that Alex sometimes tries to emanate as he belts the lyrics.

Alex adds London Boy to nearly every playlist they have on their shared Spotify account, including their chores playlist. So, it always seems to come on when they’re sweeping their dining room or dusting their ceiling fans or cleaning their kitchen countertops. They always stop, they always dance. Alex always feels like it’ll never get old, the way that Henry looks skyward for a moment and laughs and lets Alex keep doing it anyway. He’s lucky, so lucky, that this is the life he gets to live, with this man that he loves and that loves him, too, even when he’s ridiculous or overdoing it.

Henry never seems to think so.

Once, when Henry is washing the dishes, the song comes on and Alex puts down the broom that was in his hand to wrap his arms around Henry from behind. His fingers trail across Henry’s abs from over his sweater, squeezing lightly. He presses his lips to the shell of Henry’s ear and hums, “home is where the heart is, but God I love the English” in the most exaggerated bubble gum pop tone he can manage.

Henry pulls his lips between his teeth to try to hide his smile. “Your love for the English is singular, you cretin.”

Alex just kisses his jaw noisily and keeps singing, rocking back and forth, and moving both of their bodies in a way that makes Henry fucking giggle, and Alex might spend the rest of their lives trying to get that sound replicated as often as possible.

“You know I love a London boy

I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon”

Henry sighs, finishing the last dish and drying off his hands before turning to rest his hip against the counter. He tilts his head in a way that Alex recognizes, slightly exasperated but endearingly fond. It still makes his heart skip a little in his chest.

He loves that – the way his entire soul still reacts to even the slightest bit of affection from Henry. It’s like he’ll never fully get used to it, even as much as he knows that Henry loves him, that Henry is staying forever. He hopes the thrill never goes away, either.

Alex curls himself into Henry’s chest, still singing along with the song as he stretches up on his toes. Henry kisses him, cutting him off and effectively shutting him up, and Alex melts, reaching up to cup Henry’s cheeks in his palms. Their noses brush together when they pull away. “I love you.” Alex grins. “London boy.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re insufferable.” Henry scrunches up his nose, and Alex leans up to kiss it. Henry rolls his eyes. “But I love you, too.”

----

At the end of the year, when they get their shared Spotify account Wrapped, London Boy is their top played song, because Alex plays it while they’re cleaning, while they’re getting ready in the morning, when they have friends over for game nights, as often as he can. He does it for the sole purpose of teasing Henry, of getting to see the splotches of color that rise on his skin and know that it’s born out of love. Plus, as much as he didn’t like it when he first heard it, he thinks that opinion was based on his feelings about Henry getting in the way. In hindsight and objectively, he was too harsh on it. It’s a good song.

When they go shopping at Target and the song plays over the store’s speakers, Alex’s eyes go wide and he sings it to Henry in the middle of the aisle, and Henry tries to run him over with their shopping cart.

When they get married, Alex adds it to their wedding reception playlist, delighted when it blares through the sound system and makes Henry blush, prompting Henry to pull Alex close and hide his face in Alex’s shoulder, his ring sparkling in the light when he covers his eyes with his hand.

A few years later, when they adopt their first daughter from an agency based out of London, Alex posts a photo to Instagram of Henry holding her, small and wrapped in a yellow blanket that has tiny water spots dotting the top of it from where they’ve both cried on her, captioning it, “you know we love a London (girl).”

June comments both a pink heart and an eye rolling emoji, then texts him asking for caption credit.

After all, she made him listen to the song in the first place.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwarb #firstprince #alex x henry #my writing #firstprince ff #i actually really like this idk why #i hope yall do too

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