roses, roses, laid upon your bedspread, oh my, all this, all this i know: but every night i kiss you, you’ll say in my ear ‘ oh we’re in love, aren’t we? ‘ hands in your hair, fingers and thumbs, baby. i feel safe when you’re holding me near, love the way that you conquer your fear.
Under battered Yorkshire skies, with
grime beneath its nails and soil clodding up the treads of its boots,
Francis Lee’s outstanding feature debut God’s Own Country is a work of
rough-hewn alchemy. But instead of gold, from the muck and straw it
spins a thrillingly real story of gay love. It will inevitably invite
comparisons with Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain — at times it almost
actively courts them — but seldom has a film or its characters felt less
In any case, this isn’t only a love story. It is also
an immigrant tale and an unflinching portrait of rural farm life where
the war between tradition and change is bitter and has real casualties.
And in Josh O'Connor (Peaky Blinders) the film finds a central
performance of such authenticity and naturalism that is feels like it
grew there, planted some years ago, with a root system that extends for
miles under these forbiddingly lovely moors.
The film’s sense of place recalls Andrea Arnold’s viscerally damp and windswept Wuthering Heights
sense of place, and of tactile immediacy in the detail and dirt of its
wild location, at times recalls Andrea Arnold’s viscerally damp and
windswept take on Wuthering Heights, but there is nothing ethereal about
Lee’s vision of rural life. Instead he finds beauty in details of skin,
fur, ordure, spit, vomit, semen, mucus and afterbirth. Here the
‘miracle of birth’ and the ‘circle of life’ are captured in shots of
chickens pecking at eggshells, ewes licking the mucus from their
newborns, or, during one exceptional sequence, a dead lamb being briskly
skinned and its hide used to clothe a runt, so that it will be accepted
by the bereaved mother.
In fact the first animal birth that
happens here is an abortive one: Johnny (O'Connor) is away bringing a
cow to market, and having an anonymous, illicit sexual encounter with a
young man he meets there, while back on the farm the pregnant cow to
whom he had been tending, dies in the process of giving birth to a
half-dead calf. His father Martin (Ian Hart) whose failing health
necessitates the use of two walking sticks, unambiguously blames his son
and leaves the mercy killing of the calf to him.
scowling Johnny lives on the inexorably failing livestock farm with his
father and grandmother (a terrific Gemma Jones) in an atmophere of
mutual hostility and barked-out orders reluctantly followed. Martin, all
but incapacitated, hires a Romanian migrant worker to help out for a
week during lambing season and when Gheorghe (Alec Secareanu) arrives,
it seems at first like he will be just another reason for resentment.
Johnny, who gets so blind drunk in the pub most nights that his mornings
are spent vomiting, is openly hostile to him, as well as sneeringly
dismissive of his old friends from the region who have gone away to
college. The only hint we get that there was ever anything more to
Johnny than this unprepossessing truculence is at the pub, when an old
acquaintance urges him to join her and her college mate for a drink:
“He’s really funny. You know, like you used to be.”
For his part,
Gheorghe takes uncomplainingly to the privations of this isolated
location, sleeping in a chilly caravan in the courtyard and passing the
days working with Johnny mostly in silence. But he is good at the tasks
required of him, not just the fence-mending and wall-repairing but the
real business of lambing. And during a few days spent away from the
farmhouse, in the hills looking after the sheep, living on off-brand pot
noodles and sleeping next to each other in a ramshackle outbuilding,
Johnny and Gheorghe’s relationship becomes first animalistically sexual
(their first roll in the hay is notable for the lack of hay: they rut in
the dirt) and then, astonishingly to Johnny, loving. Under the
influence of sudden happiness, manifested in night-time trysts and
secret smiles (though perhaps not so secret to Nan’s sharp eyes)
Johnny’s imperceptible ugly duckling transformation is a quiet joy to
Maybe it’s time to let gay love stories be gay love stories, to apologise for their themes as little as God’s Own Country does
In the past, when faced with ‘gay films’ of the calibre of Moonlight, Carol, the upcoming Sundance wonder Call Me By Your Name
or, now, God’s Own Country – films that tell their stories with
tenderness and insight and without a scintilla of camp – the tendency in
reviewing has been to somehow claim them ‘for everyone who has ever
loved’ or ‘for cinema’, in such a way that defines ‘cinema’ as a broadly
heterosexual endeavour, and denies their essential queerness. There is a
place for that project – there is sociological importance, not to
mention a financial imperative, in presenting gay stories in a way that
universalises that experience for a wider (read: predominantly
heterosexual) audience. But it can’t help but feel like maybe the time
for that fastidiousness is past. Maybe it’s time to let gay love stories
be gay love stories, to apologise for their themes as little as God’s
Own Country does.
Unlike so many films in this category, this is
not about coming out, at least not in the traditional sense — Johnny’s
sexuality is a pre-established fact, however unspoken it may be in that
household. If anything, it portrays a painfully, magnificently real
character coming out as worthy of love, like it’s a gift he didn’t know
he wanted and could never have believed he deserved. It’s not despite
Johnny’s gayness, but because of it that the journey is so captivating.
you owe me like 17k cookies and blankets after that good lord
Alec had never felt like this.
Like he could drown in the taste of Magnus’
love on his lips, melt into the bed beneath him while simultaneously feeling
this burning need to press up, align his own body with the one above him. The
necklaces dragged against his chest, the same way Magnus’ goatee burned his
skin, leaving blazing desire in its wake.
Trailing a hand down Magnus’ back, the
muscles flexing beneath it, Alec asked himself how he managed to reach this
place, this moment. He felt so full, like
nothing mattered but them, Magnus and Alec, and getting these fucking pants off
“How do you—?” Alec breathed out, hands
fumbling at Magnus’ belt.
“It’s at the back,” Magnus said, pressing
the words to Alec’s neck.
“At the— why?”
Magnus’ giggles were loud against his ear,
washing the frustration right out of his body, and replacing it with unending
happiness. Wrapping his arms back around Magnus’ body, he turned his head and pressed their
foreheads together, laughter spilling into each other’s mouths.
“Thank you,” Alec murmured as the kisses
Alec feels his eyelids getting heavier, his movements slowed, his words slurring together when he speaks, but it’s the most carefree he’s been in weeks, so he lets the tipsy feeling of his third beer wash over him. He sits back as the party around him grows louder, and just as his eyelids start dropping, he feels someone settle beside him.
He turns, and even through the haze of alcohol, the sight of his boyfriend makes his heart flutter and his smile widen.
“I love you,“ he says, barely thinking it before the words are out, and Magnus laughs, a breathy, quiet sound, but it causes Alec to grin wider. He leans forward, pressing a soft, sloppy kiss to Magnus’ cheek, before leaning down, resting his cheek against Magnus’ shoulder. His eyes close on their own, the warmth of Magnus’ body beside him making him even sleepier than the alcohol.
“You’re my favourite person, you know that? Out of everyone in the entire history of the world,“ Alec says, slowly, trying not to sound too drunk as he says it, because no matter what, he means it, with everything he is. He feels Magnus’ shoulder shake with laughter beneath his cheek, and then a soft kiss is pressed to his hair, making him hum with content.
“You’re my favourite person, too. No one else even compares.“
Narrowly avoiding the oncoming Seraph
blade, Magnus sent a blast of burning magic into the Circle member’s gut,
screams filling the air. Unconsciously, his magic sought out Alec, fighting on
the other side of the darkened alley. They were supposed to go on a date, like
they always did on Fridays, but an emergency call had reached them just as they
were preparing to leave. Tracking the call to an alley in Manhattan, filled
with Circle members, was not exactly how they had envisioned their day to go.
Still, watching the blood drip off his
knuckles after punching the approaching man in the face, Magnus couldn’t stop
the satisfaction from spreading through his body. Just yesterday, there had
been an attack on warlock children not far from there, and now he had no doubt
who had been the offending party.
Bringing his hands up to his chest, he felt
the red strands of his magic curling into a ball, moving from his body to his
fingers. He slammed his arms forward, and his magic was unleashed. The red
blast crashed into his opponents, knocking them off their feet. Not a second
later, Alec appeared in the fog, finishing them off. One more glance to the
other side of the alley, and he turned to Magnus.
“Are you alright?”
“Of course I am,” Magnus answered, his
magic checking Alec for injuries, “ready for another round?”
“Always,” Alec said, voice playful.
Taking off his blazer and banishing it back
to the loft, Magnus noticed how Alec’s eyes lingered at the shirt straining
over his arms. “Is this our idea of date night now?”
“What, you’re not having fun?” Alec
quipped, striding forward again, only to be met with a few dozen Circle members
rounding the corner.
'sometimes, home has a heartbeat.' + magnus' ear against alec's chest listening to his heart + me being a mess in the distance
badum badum badum
alec’s heartbeat under magnus’ head, a steady rhythm reveberating around the room. magnus feels warm, oh so warm, and he feels the sound run through his veins and settle in his bones. this sign of life, this proof of their love, the feeling it evokes so intense it seems almost tangible.
his heart has always been alec’s greatest strength, and to feel it right here under his palm creates this overpowering need to pump his magic into alec’s chest to make sure that it never stops beating.
it takes magnus a while, lying there, the golden glow of the sun illuminating their bodies, to realise that this isn’t the first time he has felt alec’s heartbeat as clearly as he feels his own. it is an overwhelming, but welcome, realisation that their hearts beat in sync even when parted.
magnus feels the words on the tip of his tongue, and swallows them down again, one day, he thinks, one day i will tell him.
“God’s Own Country” (GB, 2017) is about how a younger farmer, Johnny
Saxby (Josh O’Connor), turns his life around, after he meets Georghe (Alec
Secareanu) who was hired for one week to help at the farm in Yorkshire.
title of the movie is a reference to the land: locals call Yorkshire – an old
county in the North of England – “God’s Own Country”.
It is (new) queer cinema
(written, directed and produced by Francis Lee, an openly gay man); however, it
is a universal tale; and it raises the bar for (queer) cinema. “God’s Own
Country” is more than a “better Brokeback Mountain” or a British (Brexit) film.
In the beginning, we see that Johnny is an angry young man. Johnny took
over the farm after his father got ill but the movie implies that he wished to
have had a different choice. He drinks too much; he only fucks with anonymous
strangers; he is constantly too late with his duties. We see him barely
speaking a word with his remaining family (his mother who wanted to be a hair
dresser in the city has left the family early; his grandmother is a
hard-working women whose actions speaks louder than her words; his father who
suffers from the aftermath of a stroke is constantly disappointed in the son.).
A meeting with an old school friend who went to university gives a little
insight in Johnny’s inner workings: that he used to be different but also that
he sees no way out (“The cows need their bred.”).
It changes – unknown to him, even the audience picked on it instantly,
after all, there’s a reason why “God’s Own Country” is prominently referred as
“The better Brokeback Mountain” – when he picks up Georghe at the station. Georghe
is a helper from Romania. In contrast to John, he shows up on time to work,
knows about farming, and is overall more at ease (or, so it appears). John
calls him “Gypsy” and Georghe replies: “Don’t call me that.” To say that they
do not hit off is an understatement.
Their first shared duty is to repair miles of the gates/ stall around
the property and check on the sheep alone in the countryside. When John calls
him again “Gypsy” while Georghe washes himself in full nude next to him, Georghe
snaps: he attacks Johnny and brings him to the ground. Here, Georghe says,
“Alright, I will fuck with you.” When it is evening, Johnny tries – as he did with
the anonymous stranger – to top and has a quickie. However, Georghe has none of
it: he teaches Johnny to kiss and to touch for the very first time. In the end,
it is John giving him a blowjob and more of a frottage/ hand job. The morning
after, John is acting as if nothing has happened.
When they are continuing repairing the gates, the famous line occurs:
“Beautiful here but lonely, yes.” John is clearly shivering because of the cold
but he stubbornly refuses the gloves Georghe is offering him. Further, Georghe
reveals that he comes from farming too. It is an attempt to break the ice and
to get Johnny into talking with him but so far, it is fruitless.
Change happens slowly. One night, they have sex again and now Johnny is
more openly with kisses. It is on the dirty ground, afterwards, you see them
completely nude on screen but even its raw, its closer to love making. They go
swimming. For the first time, we see in particular Johnny carefree. Then, the
camera swifts and we see his father approaching Johnny’s grandmother who is
hanging up clothes. For a second, it looks as if all happens at one place and
the father is acting so strange because he has discovered the man and reacted
badly. In fact, it is at the house and his father is having a second stroke.
When Johnny and Georghe come to the house, they got the call. They drive
to the hospital. While Johnny sits at his father’s bed (and get’s lovely-
roughly scolded by his grandmother for making the bed dirty (“Someone has to
wash the sheets!”)), Georghe is waiting in the cafeteria. When Johnny joins him
there hours later, Georghe offers him to stay a bit longer to help. There is
the intimate moment, in which Georghe caresses Johnny’s hand only with his
It is slowly but there is something growing between them.
Therefore, while his Grandmother is mostly at the hospital (“You cannot
be weak now.”), the two young men run the farm on their own. They work
hand-in-hand and for the first time Johnny sees the countryside not only as a
place to work but also to live. It is an eye-opening moment for Johnny when
Georghe brings him to a high point on their country, so they can both silently
overlook “God’s Own Country”. It is one of the rare panorama shoots of the
movie. The camera really transports the message that the perception of the
surrounding changes. Suddenly, there is hope, for both of them.
There is a beautiful scene one evening: Georghe has cooked pasta. He
tastes from Johnny’s own plate if it is to his liking. He adds salt, tastes
again, and only then, does the same for his plate. Georghe had also put beer
cans on the table and some flowers. It is their way of romance. We see them in
bed. Both naked. Now, Johnny behind Georghe, sitting upright. Intimate and
tender, sometimes kissing, while Johnny tries to learn some basic words of
Georghe’s language (sheep, farm, cock).
Then there is the incident in which the grandmother discovers a
discarded condom one day when she picks up dirty laundry. For a second, the
audience froze again because they, once again, feared the worst: it would lead
to homophobic reaction. Instead, we only see her reminded Johnny that Georghe
is here for work. When he retorts that Georghe will only stay until his father
gets better again, the grandmother has to break the news to him: “Oh, lad, your
father won’t get any better.” She asked too what Georghe has done to his best
kitchen towel. He answers, “He’s doing cheese. Have you tried it?” In this
short dialogue and the scene in which Georghe indeed made the cheese, we learn
that Georghe is actually skilled. Moreover, that he is willing to change.
Then there is the evening at the pub, which is set up as the climax /
catastrophe, and in clear parallel to the first introduction of Johnny in
“God’s Own Country”: First, it seems as if Johnny has changed. He has invited
Georghe to come with him (when his father at Georghe’s first day mentioned
Johnny could do it, Johnny’s reaction was hostile). He has ordered them both a
pint and there is at least the idea of maybe trying to play dart later. Most
importantly however, Johnny asks Georghe if he would be interested in staying
longer on the farm. They could be together or so he wishes, Johnny more or less
explicitly says (“I haven’t asked you to marry me.”). One realizes that Johnny
is struggling but Georghe explicitly says that if he stays than the farm has to
change (“I cannot survive it a second time.”). Instead of giving him a clear
answer, Johnny falls into old habits: he drinks. Then he drinks even more. Then
he spots the university student his old school friend had mentioned months ago.
While a clearly racist/xenophobic guest assaults Georghe, it appears as if Johnny
is having a quickie with said university student. In search for Johnny, Georghe
discovers them in the bath.
The next morning, his grandmother discloses to him that Georghe has left
the farm. She suspects that he has something to do with it. Johnny
claims that he will manage. (The audience knows that Johnny might intended to
have sex but did not carry through to the end (we see that he still has an
erection). However, obviously, it is a clear break of trust.)
While Georghe is away, his father comes home in a wheelchair. There is a
touching scene in the bathtub in which Johnny offers to bath him and says that
he can manage it, so the grandmother/ mother does not have to do it, his father
says “Thank you”. We see Johnny in the stable, doing his work, but how his eyes
stray to the clothes Georghe was wearing.
One day, he even enters the caravan in which Georghe used to live until
they had the house to themselves, and burrows the pullover Georghe had left
behind. We see him putting him on. It is like a battledress. He announces to
his grandmother that he is going after him. In addition, – in a sort of blessing
– she gives him the address on a slip of paper (“Haven’t you forgotten
something?”). He talks and gets the blessing of his father too. Both man sit on
their land; Johnny had drove him in his wheelchair; now, like before, his
father asks him in one-word-question if Johnny had done his duties, and now,
unlike before, Johnny has accomplished them. Unlike before, probably for the
first (and if he indeed is dead before Johnny comes home, the last time), his
father says, “You did well.” When Johnny announces that he is bringing Georghe
home, his father hesitates for a minute, but then says, “Makes you happy?” There
is more a jerky nod than an actual verbal reply. However, at last, Johnny says
that when they come home, it has to be differently. (It is unclear if he means
that two men will be working on the farm, or, already, thinking that instead of
wool and selling the sheep, they will follow Georghe’s plan of making cheese,
or both. What is clear is that it will change because he is now willing to
We see him travelling by bus until the farm in Scotland on which Georghe
is now working. In classic Romantic-Comedy style, it first seems as if he might
not be there, then, Johnny is fucking it up because he only emphasizes that he
wishes that he would come to work on his farm again. “Is this all”, Georghe
asks. We see Johnny struggling but Georghe, once again, does not yield. Johnny
has to make the move: “I come here to you by bus. I want to be with you. I want
us to be together.” It is the last line of the movie. (“Fagot” – “Fagot.” It
might sound odd but I read it as an affirmation that they are both not hiding
We see them kissing. Then we see them driving home by bus. Later, when Johnny
is tired, he rests his head on Georghe’s shoulder. And Georghe is smiling.
The last scene is they at the farm. We see the caravan in which Georghe
used to live while he was a worker taken away. Now, they enter together the
They live, love, fuck and work in “God’s Own Country”, differently.
Some words about the cinematography. “God’s Own Country” is a low budget
production. My thesis: THANK GOD that “God’s Own Country” is a low budget
Besides the fact that it not only transports the atmosphere of the movie
excellent – after all, Yorkshire and country life in general is, not particular
known for big budget – but it also shows that Francis Lee knows his craft.
Francis Lee shot “God’s Own Country” chronologic, which means he started
with the beginning (spring) when Johnny meets Georghe for the first time and
followed them with his camera over the year. Let me tell you, this is
remarkable. Very few movies are shot like this. Normally, in post-production,
the scenes are edited into the “right” order.
It goes even more unusual: Francis Lee shot not only with time but also
with light. He did not put actors in summer outfits even it is barely spring to
create the illusion of a different season. He did not lighten up the night
until it looks at least as dawn or dimmed it for an evening. There was no fake
rain or snow, and yes, when he had hoped for a different weather when the lambs
were born, he had to make adjustments in HIS script because even the births
were not “faked”. “God’s Own Country” did not only resemble a documentary at
some points but you could argue that that it is a documentary in some points. Unlike “Brokeback Mountain” that
aimed at an aesthetic style, Francis Lee went for realism. When it rains, it
rains. When it is summer, its summer, and it was shot in summer, because it was
summer in Yorkshire (UK).
Yet, Francis Lee went further, and this impressed me (even the rest is
already remarkable, especially, in the 21st century) the most: he uses
light as a leitmotif. It is not only that for every light source in the movie,
you have a light source (candle, light bulb, sun etc.) but he uses them to tell
The most iconic scene (IMO) it the one in the caravan. It is the first
night for Georghe at Johnny’s farm. When he enters the caravan, it is dark, and
then he switches on the big light, only to put the light bulb out and put it
into his bedsit light. While Georghe is doing it, you have the flicker, the
temporarily darkness and moving shadows, and, of course, in the end, only the
light from a bedsit lamp. What the viewer see – with their eyes – is the play
of light and shadow; you can barely made out the actor’s movement (you don’t
even try to make a guess about his costume etc.) and only when you try very
hard then you can get a very an idea about the interior.
Why did this scene, barely a minute long, impress me so much? Besides
the fact, I have repeated multiple times that you can have such scenes anymore
(and if, then they are tampered with in nine out of 10 times), it is that this
scene – besides visually stunning – characterizes Georghe. Like Johnny, we have
only met his stranger with the unusual name from a foreign country only recently;
his character lies literary in the dark. And yes, he will bring the light – if
you want to be so cheesy – back into Johnny’s life (and into his eyes, but that
is definitely cheesy). However, it is more the act of re-using the light bulb
that is, in my opinion, the most telling: here, we have a character that is
resourceful. A character that has practical skills. A character that is
straightforward and economical.
The viewer is not presented with a character that faces a situation and
finds a solution; here, he needs light at his bed and he only has one light
bulb. There is no hesitation; it is one swift motion. Yes, we see him burst
into anger behind the closed doors of the caravan here too; while he says that
it is fine when Johnny showed him the caravan with more than telling words, (he
called it a “shit hole”). Therefore, there is something shimmering beyond the
surface (and it will prove correct, as we will learn when it is Georghe who
beats back when Johnny calls him “Gypsy” again), but he has learn to manage. It
is the introduction of the man who will later make cheese (with Johnny’s
grandmother’s “best kitchen towel”, her calling) because Georghe cannot survive
another farm to go down. Another “simple” scene - not one syllabi is uttered in
both scenes – and it is him in a nutshell.
Francis Lee repeatedly said that “God’s Own Country” central message is
hope. What is the most well known metaphor for hope? Light.
4. “God’s Own Country”: Queer + Drama = HOPE
The parallels to “Brokeback Mountain” (USA, 2004) are imminent.
Actually, “God’s Own Country” (GB, 2017) was at the beginning mostly promoted
as “the better” or the “British answer” to Ang Lee’s movie. However, as time
processes, critics and audience alike picked up that not only it is minimizing
the importance, singularity and originality of Francis Lee’s work but also that
in fact “God’s Own Country” is incomparable to “Brokeback Mountain”.
My thesis: “God’s Own Country” is a drama and it has a queer love story,
it is not queer drama.
The first scene of “God’s Own Country” shows Johnny in the bathroom –in
all detail, zoomed in – after drinking far too much the night prior. It takes a
second to identify the fluid material that is zoomed in as vomit and not semen.
Then there is the scene of Johnny fucking a stranger at a cow’s auction in
town. It mirrors the opening scene of “God’s Own Country”: Johnny spits on the
arse cheeks of the man beneath him; that is all the preparation the other young
man receives. Later in the movie, Johnny will follow another stranger with a
clear intention for a quick fuck into a toilet (!) while Georghe waits for him
in the pub. Only then, Johnny will not follow through.
Sure, the temporarily (!) break-up is partly because Georghe taught
Johnny cheated on him but that was clearly linked to Johnny’s personality and
not his sexual identity. He did not fuck around because he is gay but because
he is overwhelmed by his life. Like he compensates his frustration with alcohol
not to get rid of his homosexuality (as addiction of all kind is often linked
in queer cinema) but because he is, once again, lost. He is an angry, troubled
young man, a loner, and yes, certainly, fucked up (as he himself says once) but
not troubled by his homosexuality or confronted by anger because of it.
Instead, you have drama that could happen to everyone because it is not
linked to sexual orientation: health issues and financial problems. The father
of Johnny had a stroke and in the movie will suffer a second. Further,
traditional farming is struggling. However, both elements are documented (it is
the stoic attitude of the (British) country (side): dealt with) but they are
not the main story. They have minimal lines (even there is in general not much
speech in “God’s Own Country”) and only well-dosed screen time. Simply put: in “God’s
Own Country”, there is no subplot to outweigh the queer plot. “God’s Own
Country” gives queer people the centre stage.
To sum it up, instead of showing queer themed drama or a queer lover
drama, Francis Lee shows a queer man in a classic hero’s journey: the misfit to
the perfect fit for his life and his lover. Even the background with its grim reality
that Francis Lee almost documents in brutal honesty is always linked to the
main, queer plot. It is in particular the happy ending of “God’s Own Country”
that makes the difference to most queer drama. Here, no one of the lovers dies
(and certainly not, like in “Brokeback Mountain”, as a victim of hate crime)
and they are together, working and living on the farm.
In “God’s Own Country”, there is no subtext, no shy-away and no filter.
To be blunt: “God’s Own Country” says, fuck it, I am showing them fuck
and being fucked up. In “God’s Own Country”, you have the two lovers calling
themselves “Fagot” as an acknowledgment of their homosexuality; you have the
“fuck” in plain speech; and yes, you have several sex acts. In addition, let me
tell you, you can identify every one of them. If they fuck on the dirty ground,
they are dirty. “God’s Own Country” is not “Blue is the warmest colour”. Moreover,
it is definitely not the shy-away & filter-version of “Carol” (that, even
worse, even cut out another queer subplot with queer characters as a mirror for
the main lesbian couple as a version for their future, shared life). Even
“Moonlight” that showed the grim reality of Miami hyper realistic, shied away
from explicit sex scenes.
Moreover, it is not the act(s) only. It is further the build-up and
aftermath. In “God’s Own Country”, you get it all. It is actually a vital
aspect of the movie: to show the transition from fucking to love making. From
enemies to friends to lovers to partners. They have chemistry; there body
language is astonishing; only, you see them in full nude and can even see all the
muscle work (yes, even the one on the arse). You see them kiss – or, more
accurate, you see how Georghe teaches Johnny to kiss, and how he learns to love
it, to hold, to touch, to kiss, and to love. In “God’s Own Country”, you have
sensuality, sexuality, nudity and intimacy. You have all the types of love, as
we all got the reminder in “Yuriiii on Ice”, only here, it is no editing with
maybe a hidden (queer) meaning, it is simply and plain in the open.
a very vague prompt, but still a great concept: malec + forehead kisses
Thank you francy!! Hope you like it ♥
If music be the food of love, play on. (
It were the little things that changed after their big confession.
There was no sudden shift, no world that was turned on its axis. The revelation did not arrive violently, did not change their relationship in an irrevocable way.
Still with abrupt realisation came a budding awareness of his feelings that Alec had not been granted before. Love seeped into every word, every touch, every kiss that they shared. And though it has always been there, in a way that Alec has come to see, being able to put a word to the warmth that spread through his chest whenever he thought of the man he loved was a soft relief. Taking his hand and guiding his heart into the right direction,
it had led him right where he belonged. It was funny, he thought, that it took him so long to understand when the feeling could not be any clearer to him now.
And even while leaning on the kitchen counter, watching Magnus cook, he could not keep that thought out of his mind.
prompt: alec accidentally calling magnus "magnus babe" when talking to a high ranking clave official
Alec finds himself often getting lost in his thoughts, he’s been a thinker (an overthinker, really) for his entire life. Since meeting Magnus, that hasn’t changed, it’s just that now, Magnus has become his mind’s favourite thing to think about.
Like today, he’s only half listening to the woman on the phone, a member of the Clave who had wanted to speak to him. She seems nice enough, but they’re at the portion of the call when she is listing off everyone who will be coming New York, and when, which is all information Alec already knows, and she seems to be half thinking out loud about who she should send so Alec just hums and tunes out for the most part.
Most of his mind is focused on pet names, which is something he’s never given much thought to. Magnus uses pet names and odd nicknames for everyone, changing it up from time to time, but Alec’s favourite for him is ‘Alexander’. Magnus was delighted when Alec reluctantly told him this, saying it was his favourite, too.
So now Alec is going through the pet names he’s heard Jace and Izzy use over the years, trying to find something that will sound right.
Angel, dollface, baby,…
“And we’ll need the help of the High Warlock, Magnus Bane-”
“Magnus Babe?” Alec blurts out before he can fully process and when he does, he wants the ground to swallow him whole, this is a Clave official he’s on the phone with for Angel’s sake. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean-”
But before Alec can say anything else, the woman on the phone starts laughing hysterically. Alec sits there, confused, even more so because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard a Clave official lose their cool like this.
“No, no, it’s fine,” she says after another moment, finally calming down somewhat. “It’s really sweet, actually.”
Alec thinks he may have fallen asleep at some point and this is absolutely not happening.
“And I would agree that he is rather attractive.”
This cannot even be a dream at this point. Alternate reality, that has to be it.
“But we should try and keep this professional, so can I count on you to contact him about the portals? I’ll send all the details later today.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course, no problem,” Alec stammers out, and he spends the rest of the conversation on high alert, not wanting to push his luck.
“Okay, that’s that, I’ll see you in a few days, Mr. Lightwood,” the woman (Annabeth, Alec recalls now) says after a few more minutes of conversation.
“See you then,” he replies and hangs up, thankful for the call to be over. But as the embarrassment wears off, he finds that there’s a warm feeling of happiness settling in his mind. Annabeth is a high ranking Clave official, yet she made no rude comments about Magnus, even called him attractive, even laughed at Alec’s slip up.
Maybe things are changing, maybe things are getting better, and Alec lets himself hope.