#Boy I really let loose my thoughts with this one. Suppose I had some stuff to get off my chest still

[itsnothingofinterest]

Hey hope you're doing ok with the recent bnha discourse?

Still holding out hope for shigaraki/tenko and good writing 👍👍

Can I ask you, if you ever find it kind of off-putting (like I do) when some bnha fans commit to the idea that Deku and the other younger heroes will be the ones to change their society for the better, after the villains are killed?

As if purely heroic methods were really capable of changing hero society, when the very best that the innocent people in bnha have done from their constant protectors, the heroes, is toss the hero kids a shirt and some dollar store med. Items??

(To say nothing of the government corruption that came to be under All-might's nose, that Deku and the other heroes haven't thought about once.)

And they honestly believe that's the best outcome...

It feels either very optimistic or unknowing at best, and completely ignorant at worst.

Do you think so or differently?

Oh yeah, no I totally get what you mean; it kinda looks like we’re on course for a lot to get worse actually. And it all comes back to how poorly they handled the villains; both their talking points, and their failure to save them.

We just have not been given any indication that the next gen are going to do anything better than their predecessors; they're ending their arcs side by side with them as equals and partners after all.

Rather than improving things, they're basically a carbon copy of the last generation; which I feel is exemplified in how the final battle of this war ending in a retread of Kamino. Except like I said, in some areas it feels like it'll just get worse. This retread of Kamino ending not in an arrest, but in a murder; something I find very worrying given Deku's status as the next symbol (which, despite all criticism of All Might in the same roll, Deku has become anyway) because of the impact that'd have on treatment of villains by the heroes Deku inspires. Add in their treatment of Machia & their support of Hawks' handling of Twice and it just doesn't look good. Oh and if that same crowd gets wind of his status as 'The Greatest Hero Who Saves By Putting You Out Of Your Misery' that'll be even more catastrophic. (Especially once the Singularity doomsday starts up for real.)

Meanwhile, what little progress has been made on a societal level is either purely for the heroes benefits, like the civilians acting more grateful to the heroes (and as you say, the results of that are pretty middling, amounting to first aid & a shirt); or else maybe baby steps in the right direction like Shoji's answer to the heteromorph plot. Baby steps they do not have time for, mind you. And even then, that's still a 'maybe' because Shoji's not actually planning anything different from normal hero activity: just be inspiring and hope people follow your example. Meanwhile everything else societal that brought us here, corruption in the system, poor treatment or handing of quirks, general prejudice; it's all just gone unaddressed.

Probably because the points with which they used to be addressed, the League, instead got their plot points changed to revolve around motives more personal, less serious, less justifiable, and more easily addressable by the kids. Y'know; Toga's plot used to be about society's treatment of the other but then was about her wanting love, Dabi's was about people in power abusing their power but then was about him wanting attention, and Shigaraki's was about the lie of hero society and the complacency of the people it inspired, but Deku couldn't do anything about that so instead it because about Tenko's hatred towards his house. But then Deku still couldn't do anything about that so instead it became about Tenko's self-hated. And then Deku still couldn't address that either all too well, really, so we instead got 'It was AFO All Along'; and that Deku could handle with trivial ease. What self-respecting All Might clone couldn't punch AFO?

To use a metaphor I think Tomura would appreciate; it's like they all turned on easy mode, and Deku especially turned on baby mode, and it feels like we're all going to get the bad ending as a result of them skipping so many side-quests, dialogue trees, or special objectives. Personally speaking, any hope I had in things turning around was based in how the villains would be handled, both a) because I expected how they were handled would reflect how their societal motives would be handled(i.e. how Deku saved Tenko would inform us of how he'd save other Tenkos), and b) because I expected they'd need the help and perspective.

Needless to say, I've not been left with much hope that things will turn around.

So yeah, right there with you hoping Tomura could somehow come back, partially because that's the only part of this ending that feels salvageable even by his long-shot odds. But boy is the rest a mess of unfortunate implications beneath the veneer of how "The Day is Saved"...Man, Deku really is an All Might clone.

[seababehh]

at the end of the day. || chris sturniolo x f!best friend!reader

Hi ya’ll!! I’m back. I finally got time to write - and I definitely am writing about chris this time. Because damn; this man could really suffocate me and I’d say thank you.

This is based off the song End of The Day by One Direction because let’s be honest, that song is a banger and is currently stuck in my brain.

-

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x F!Best Friend Reader

Requested: Yes (send me more i love these ideas.)

Warnings: Angst, fluff all the good stuff. Chris being a jealous asshat, doesn’t know how to communicate. A lot of swearing and arguing! Crying! I made this heartachey because I felt like it. Sorry guys. but don’t worry, there’s some good stuff at the end, let me know if you want me to make it a part 2 with some smut. Best Friendsss to lovers Core!

——

I had awoken with sleep crusted eyes, my mouth dry and the light outside had proven it to be late afternoon. My eyelids themselves were puffy from lack of sleep, and I groaned as I dragged a hand over my face. It was the day I was supposed to hang out with my best friends -Matt, Nick and Chris. They had just gotten back from tour, and we decided today was the day we celebrated Chris for winning the tour and the boys other accomplishments.

I rubbed my eyes, rolling over the side of my bed and grabbing my phone. I replied to a few messages - letting them go through and making my way to the bathroom. Something felt different about today, my body couldn’t decide if it was a good different or bad different. I shook my head - wondering into the shower. I turned the tap on, letting the hot water run and steam up the room.

While under the hot stream of water, I had let my thoughts run as fast as the droplets against my skin. As usual, every individual thought that entered my brain had always landed back to Chris. My sweet boy, he was honestly my world, my best friend, my everything. That’s what they were supposed to be when you were in love with someone right?

Wrong, because it was only me who had this thoughts. This horrible feeling crept up from my chest, knowing I’m only hurting myself by being hopelessly in love with someone who would never love me back.The feeling pained, like an extreme pressure was put on my chest and I was about to combust. I sighed, holding my hands up against my chest and leaned against the wall as my hair began to stick to my body.

—

“(Y/n)!” I heard the familiar voice scream as I walked up the driveway to the Sturniolo Household. Chris had whipped open the door, immediately running over to me with his arms wide and open. I looked at his fluffy hair bouncing under his beanie, the blue eyes that just made me want to scream and that wide grin that was so infectious it started to make mine widen. That familiar ugly feeling of heartbreak had crawled back into my chest, but I squashed it down as I opened up my arms for a welcoming hug.

Chris had picked up up by the waist, spinning me around as I held onto his shoulders for dear life. I shoved my have in between his neck and shoulders and somehow my arm as my legs began to swim out behind me. “Chris!” I mumbled into the skin, the vibration of my voice obviously sending a tickling sensation down his neck, causing him to loose balance. My eyes widened as we toppled to the grass beside us, a loud laugh leaving both our mouths as we looked at each other. We landed on our backs, breathless but happy. “I missed you.” He said, looking at me with those blue eyes, a pinkie reaching to touch mine as we laid on the grass. This is always what it was, the sweet comments, the flirty looks, the soft touches. Sometimes I had a hope that maybe something was reciprocated.

We danced on that line many times - everyone always assuming that we were just supposed to be together. I had a glimmer of hope appear, looking at his gorgeous face. His smile never left as he huffed against the floor. That horrible feeling came back, and before I could hurt myself anymore I looked up at the sky before jumping up and offering him my hand. “C’mon pretty boy, don’t get all sappy on me now.”

Deny, avoid, leave it. He’s not yours. Those are the words that repeated through my head

He smiled at me with a slight tinge on his cheeks, placing his hand in mind and shoving me slightly, racing to the door.

-

We were all in the study slash office room of the house where we were all hanging out. Matt had sat on the chairs with Nick, shouting and screaming at the game they were playing while Chris and I were watching tiktok’s off my phone on the couch. I had sat next to him, leaning into his side with my legs folded over his and his arm behind me on the couch.

I started laughing at one of the videos that had come up on my for you page, looking up to see if Chris had watched it. He smiled down at me, and it almost made me winded. I hadn’t realized we were so close, and I tried to get my breathing back to normal. He had played with the ends of my hair as we watched, my face burning from the closeness.

I scrolled, an edit of Chris had come up, and without thinking I automatically liked it. “Did you just like the edit of me?” He whispered in my ear, making me shriek in surprise. I almost threw my phone, “I have no idea what you are talking about!” I laughed, trying to block his view from the phone. He struggled over me and quickly took my phone from my grasp. I screamed, climbing back over him to reach for my phone. I had eventually laid myself flat on my stomach across Chris’s lap, and I felt the blush worsen. His hand rested casually on my lower back; dangerously close to my ass. He casually dipped his hand onto the skin under my hoodie and started tracing circles with his fingers. I put my face in my hands and groaned, knowing now that he was comfortable - he was not going to let me move.

-

Eventually - after a few hours of lounging around the living room with the triplets, Nick had the idea that we should go out and actually celebrate. There was an influencer party that we had all been invited too - the only problem being I was in a Fresh Love hoodie and some leggings. “Nick, I don’t know about you but i’m not going like this.” I laughed. I was squeezed between Matt and Chris; my legs over Chris’s and a pillow lodged between Matt and I. Matt smiled over at me, “But dressing like a hobo is the new in, don’t you know?” I rolled my eyes, slapping his arm as we all laughed.

“Why don’t you guys get ready, i’ll go home quick and change and then you guys can fetch me since you coming past me anyway?” I stood up from the couch, Chris quickly following with a friendly pinch on the bottom of my thigh as he stood up.

I blushed at the contact. I waved by to his two clones and Chris followed me out the door. I climbed into the drivers seat of my car, leaving the door open as he decided to invade my space. He stood against the door, crouching down to talk to me properly. “What are you planning on wearing tonight ma?” He smiled, a ghost of a smirk on his face. He reached up and pushed my hair out my face and behind my ear, causing my skin to flush. “You’ll see later - now shoo! I need to go.” I pushed him away and he laughed, leaning down and kissing my cheek before closing my door for me.

I almost wanted to break out and scream - it’s me! I’ve wanted to kiss you since we were 16! Can you fucking see me dying right now! As I watched him stand and look at my car driving away.

-

I stood in front of the mirror at the corner of the bedroom, adjusting my outfit as it clings to my body. I had black leather pants on, and a dark burgundy lace halter neck as a top. I had my white platform converse tied with cute bows on my feet and my hair was cascading down my back.

I felt cute, and I also knew I felt good enough to get drunk tonight. My thoughts, once again, had reverted back to Chris. I wondered what was he wearing tonight, no doubt he’d look as good as always. I applied the last of my lipgloss on, before hearing hooting outside. I heard the holler of Nicks voice before I even got to my door. I laughed, locking with my keys and heading over to the backseat of the minivan.

“Hey guys,” I said with a smile, climbing in. Nick immediately hugged my from my side, making me laugh and complain about my hair. Matt had smiled at me from the rear view mirror and Chris had turned almost 180 degrees in his seat to make some noise. I smiled, ignoring the guilty feeling of loving the boy and letting it stay at the house as we drove away.

—

By 11, the party was probably at its peak. There were people everywhere, and for it being such a fancy apartment, the feeling was undeniable. Nick and I had chased a few shots, while Matt had stalked off and started talking to a few others of our friends. Nick and I had made our way to the kitchen, his hands stuffed in a bag of AirPopped popcorn while I had sat on the kitchen counter. My palms gripped the edge, while my legs swung out under me, my gaze zoned in on Chris. He had a pretty girl next to him - the body language far too intimate for it to be merely platonic. He leaned against the wall, but the little woman’s body had turned to face him completely.

Once again, that ugly feeling was back as I watched them - not ashamed at the stare. No, I wasn’t ashamed, because I’m almost 99% sure he knew what he was doing. He knew we played that game, he knew it. His blue gaze flickered to mine- and instead of looking away he gave me a smug smirk. I felt that little piece of heart in my chest crack. I forced myself to look away.

“Girl, I thought you were getting Mr World Wide Drunk with me tonight - not Lana Del Ray drunk.” Nick complained from my side as he saw the sour look on my face. I pointed at him with the almost empty red cup in my hand. “You-.” I chugged the rest of my drink, slamming it down on the marble kitchen counter next to me. “- are so fucking right! I need a new drink and then let’s go dance.” I hopped down from the counter, reaching over and creating a new concoction to force down my throat. Nick cheered, “Make me one too!”

After about 2 more drinks, Nick and I had made it to the dance floor. The song End of The Day by One Direction had come on- and I started screaming the lyrics. Sure, they were slurred - however I had seen Chris in my field of view on the dance floor; the girl with a tiny hot pink dress following him like a lost puppy. Nick had grabbed my hand - screaming the lyrics with me.

“All I know at the end of the day, is you love who you love, there ain’t no other way!”

As I was shouting the lyrics with the rest of the crowd, I locked in on Chris. It almost felt like time had stopped; and the background was blurring with all the people around me. The look on his face was indifferent. This was one thing that I loved and hated about the man, he was everywhere. That I could always rely on, but at the same time I couldn’t escape him. He was watching me, and suddenly the world started spinning a little too much. When I realized it was another man who had pulled me into his arms to dance, I smiled. He greeted me politely, and even had polite hand movements as he pulled me in to dance. He was actually kind of cute. I turned my head back and looked at Chris, whose face changed from a look of awe, to visible irritation with his arm now wrapped around the random girls shoulders. I rolled my eyes, now moving to place my hands on the new man’s shoulders, he wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t Chris.

The feeling in my chest was now simmering, an angry feeling this time. How can he have the fucking audacity to be irritated when he was doing the same fucking thing? I needed to stop being pushed over by his little antics. I looked up at the man dancing, and turned around as his hands followed my hips and their movements. I blamed it on the alcohol that made me feel so many things at once. Maybe I should’ve taken it as a distraction. That horrible feeling coming back, once again. I didn’t know weather to be angry, or finally happy that I’m getting attention from someone that wasn’t the brunette boy I was in love with.

He had smirked down at me, but I closed my eyes and leant my head against his shoulder as we continued to the rhythm. I felt his breath on the side of my neck, but before I could feel his lips, there was an audible crunch and suddenly, I was being ripped away from the moment. My eyes snapped open, watching Chris stand there with a bloody hand and the man I was dancing with had an even worse nose, and he was on the floor. The crowd around me gasped, watching with interest at the commotion.

I was beyond furious. My eyes snapped to Chris’ gaze, who was now heaving and slowly turned to me. If looked could kill - he would simply have died 12 times. He tried to come up to me, but I placed my hand up and walked through the crowd. He called my name multiple times, but with each cry from his mouth just made me want to move my legs a little faster.

I finally made it outside to the parking lot - Chris still hot on my heels. He reached for my elbow, but I whipped around. Angry and confusion flashing through me, as hard and rough as waves against a rocks during a storm. It consumed me at this point; everything coming out and finally coming to the surface. “Don’t you fucking dare!” I screamed at him, the fury that raged through me had my shaking as I pushed a finger against his chest.

His eyes widened - he had never seen me like this before; but I had finally had enough. “What do you think you’re doing Christopher?” I poked again, “What is this? You fucking go off with someone but as soon as I do it, it’s a fucking problem?” I shouted again. His blue eyes just stared at me. Wow, for once Chris Sturniolo didn’t have anything to say. “That was pathetic! Who are you to have the fucking audacity to punch someone I was dancing with, again? Because let’s admit it; it’s not the fucking first time!” I raised my hands in frustration and the slapped against my thighs as I dropped them.

The warmth from my was rising, my skin flushing from the emotions running from me. Tears started to prickle in my eyes. “I’m so fucking tired of it Chris.” I finally whispered, as my anger grew into sadness. I was so disappointed with myself, knowing I should be pissed. “(Y/N)- please. He was about to kiss your neck-.” He tried to explain himself, but I felt that rage again.

“And so Chris? What about it? I have been fucking in love with you for four years! Four Years Chris, we’ve been dancing this fucking line for so long, and I just have to keep quiet and deal with it when you get with other girls and dealing with your jealousy but fuck sakes - when are you going to come to your fucking senses and realize that it’s not just about you!” I rambled; pushing his shoulder.

“I can only take so much, you either want me or you don’t!”He looked at me, his blue eyes softened as he saw the fat tears fall down my cheeks. “I’ve been in love with you, and all the looks, and teasing and flirting and all this time I can’t do anything about it because you’re my best friend-.” I sobbed, but was quickly cut off with him placing his hands on my cheeks. “God, you’re stupid. I’m stupid, we’re both stupid.” He said, looking at me.

I got visibly upset, “Excuse me?” I said, sniffing. He placed one hand over my mouth. “Before you get all ridiculous, you’re stupid because it took you this long to realize I’m in love with you too. And i’m stupid because it took me a screaming match to tell you that i’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” He whispered, placing his forehead on mine.

My hands wrapped around his hoodie covered wrists. I pulled his hands away from my face, “You fucking asshole!” I screamed, but a playful smile had begun to take over my face, pushing him away further and further as a giggle started to leave my mouth.

“What? What now?” He smiled, pulling his arms to his body to protect himself from my soft hits and pushes. “You ruined that guys fucking nose for nothing! As well as my makeup might I add!” I crossed my arms.

Chris had rolled his eyes, before dodging one more hit and grabbing my face once again. Except, this time he had placed his lips on mine. He started to move his lips against mine; and a whole relief just flowed after me. I felt his tongue move against my lip, receiving entrance into my mouth. I let out a little whimper as he walked my back, and I was now pressed against the pillar of the car park.

“He fucking deserved it.” He mumbled against my lips, feeling his body pressed against mine; and his hands now rested on my hips. I ran my fingers into his hair, pulling slightly. Chris let out a pathetic whine, causing him to flush. He pulled away from my and looked down at me. “You’ve got a lot of making up to do pretty boy.” I scanned his face. His lip rolled under his teeth, and he nodded pathetically with a hint of pink dusted on his cheeks.

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

The Boy is Mine

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Request: I had one in mind where the reader and eddie are high school sweethearts and hes a big rockstar now and they just had a baby and they hire a nanny for a few days cause they need to go to meetinfs and tours and stuff and she notices the nanny is eyeing eddie and flirting with him but he doesnt pay any attention to it and one day when the reader hears them talking and the nanny crosses the line eddie throws her out and the reader confesses she struggles with her body after the baby and they make love? :)

18+ Only!

You swayed back and forth gently, soothing your sweet son to sleep. The door was cracked just enough that you could see your husband in the living room of the suite, chatting with Sara, the nanny. You silently seethed as you watched her once again hit on your husband. She gave him her most demure smile, resting her hand on his forearm and laughing lightly at something he’d said. To Eddie’s credit, he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she was hitting on him all the time. 

It had been Eddie’s idea to hire the nanny after you had Jax. Between meetings and late night shows, you needed help. Eddie wanted you at everything. He insisted that his best girl cheer him on every night. So, he figured the nanny would be the perfect solution. She could do the late night feedings so you could sleep after the concert. She could watch him so you could attend meetings with the record label, the tour manager, and the media. Eddie valued your input and he wanted you there to hear everything firsthand so you could give him your honest opinion. 

You appreciated it but you hated watching someone else take care of your sweet baby boy. And now, seeing that she wanted to take care of your big boy too was about to send you over the edge. You hadn’t said anything to Eddie because you knew how he would respond. He would tell you that you were overreacting, that everything was fine, that he would never cheat on you. You knew that but it didn’t mean you enjoyed watching some girl hang all over him. 

Sighing, you moved to Jax’s portable crib, tenderly laying him down on his back, stroking his cheek with the back of your hand. He was so beautiful with a dark head of hair and full lips just like his father. But you could see yourself in there too, in the curve of his nose and his eyes. He was the perfect blend of the two of you, the product of your infinite love for each other right there for the world to see. 

“What the hell!?” you heard Eddie yell, your hand stilling as you paused to listen. “Absolutely not! What the fuck is wrong with you!?” “I just thought…” began Sara but he quickly cut her off.

“You just thought what? That I would throw away my entire life? That I would ever cheat on my wife? You need to get your shit and get the hell out. You’re fired.”

“But we’re all the way in Minnesota!?” shrieked Sara loudly. “How am I supposed to get home?” “I really don’t give a shit,” snapped Eddie. “Just get your shit and get the hell out of my face!”

“Eddie, come on,” she pleaded. 

“No. You don’t get to fucking touch me like that. You’re here to take care of my son so I can enjoy time with my wife. My goddamn wife, Sara, who I have loved since high school! The fact that you even thought I would consider something with you tells me you’re delusional. Seriously, get your shit or I will have security remove you.”

You heard a choked sob and then the sound of the suite room door slamming. Eddie let loose a string of curses, a pounding following. He must have punched the wall. You stood, frozen in place, unsure of what to do now. He had to know you’d heard. He wasn’t exactly being quiet. 

“Darling?” he called, his voice gentler, softer now that he was speaking to you. 

“Yeah?” you replied quietly, stepping out, softly closing Jax’s door behind you, not wanting to wake him. 

“Fuck!” Eddie muttered, running his fingers through his tangled mane. “Can you believe her!?”

“Yeah, actually, I can.”

Eddie spun on you, shock written all over that beautiful face. “What? You’re not surprised that our nanny just grabbed my dick?”

You sucked in a sharp breath at his words, “I didn’t know she did that, exactly. If I would have known that, she wouldn’t have been walking out of here without a black eye to match that tiny black skirt she likes to wear around you so much. But no, I am not surprised. I mean, seriously Eddie? She’s been hitting on you for weeks.”

“She has?”

“Oh baby,” you mused, stepping into him, cupping his cheek in your hand. “It is so sweet how absolutely oblivious you are.” You pressed yourself into him, your breasts pushed against his chest. “Oh Eddie.” You batted your lashes and then covered your mouth, giggling like a schoolgirl. “You’re so funny. Your wife is so lucky. You’re so talented. I love watching you play.”

Eddie’s nose crinkled, his head jerking back, “She really did that stuff?” “Yes baby. I mean, can you blame her?” You laughed, shaking your head. “Look at you. Every single girl that comes to your shows wants a chance with you and who could blame them?” Your fingers gently danced along his forearm, up over his chest. “You are the sexiest man and when you put a guitar in your hands, well, no girl stands a chance.”

“But I don’t want any of them,” he stated as if it were that simple, as if that was just a fact and that should be the end of it.

“And I love you for that but that doesn’t mean they don’t want you.”

Eddie smirked, that sweet little dimple appearing on his cheek, his hands coming to rest on your hips, “And what about you? Do you want me?”

“Every minute of every goddamn day,” you breathed softly. “It’s hard, you know, watching all of those beautiful girls throw themselves at you all the time. It was hard watching Sara. I mean, she’s gorgeous. You’re lucky I trust you. I just had a baby. My body is definitely not what it used to be. But I know how much you love me.”

“Princess, you are the most beautiful woman in the world to me, inside and out,” Eddie spoke low, his lips grazing your jaw. “I don’t pay attention to any of those girls because they don’t matter. They can’t begin to compare. You’re all I want.”

“Eddie,” you sighed, tilting your head back as his lips explored your throat, his hands slipping under the back of her shirt, calloused fingers grazing your bare skin and sending a shiver down your spine. 

You gripped the bottom of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours and he pulled back just enough for you to pull it over his head before his lips were on your again, his tongue parting your lips to meet yours. You moaned against his mouth, tracing the contours of his back with your fingers, the curves along his shoulder blades that you loved so much. The way they rippled as he moved, strumming his guitar in nothing but sweats in your room. You could watch him for hours, shocked and awed that this beautiful man was all yours. 

Eddie disposed of your shirt, quickly followed by your bra, nimble fingers making easy work of the clasp. Then his mouth was exploring your breasts, lavishing one nipple and then the other with that talented tongue. You arched your back, pressing yourself against his mouth, your hand tangling in his hair, your center aching, throbbing with need. 

“You are so goddamn perfect,” he whispered, one hand gripping the back of your neck as his other slid past the waistband of your leggings and into your panties. You were already wet from his teasing and his fingers slipped easily inside of you, pressed to the hilt, curling in that delicious way that had your legs threatening to give out from under you. “That’s what my girl wanted, isn’t it?”

You nodded, barely able to form a coherent thought, let alone actual words. Your hands clung to him, one still in his hair, the other gripping his bicep to keep yourself steady so you didn’t collapse to the floor. The muscles in your legs quivered as Eddie nipped at the flesh along your shoulder and collarbone before running the flat of his tongue along the side of your neck. 

A guttural moan from deep within you passed through your lips and Eddie growled, pulling your earlobe between his teeth. Your body shuddered, on the verge of completely losing all control. He brought his thumb up, circling your clit as his fingers moved against that sweet spongy place within you and a sound you didn’t even have a word for ripped from your body as everything in you stretched taut until snapping completely. You unraveled at his touch. 

“That’s it baby,” he praised, his hand on your neck the only thing keeping you from collapsing completely as you shook with pleasure. “You’re so fucking sexy when you come for me.”

As his fingers slid from you, his lips crashed against yours, hands pushing your leggings and panties down in one frenzied movement. You worked at his belt and then the button on his pants, pressing them over his hips and down his legs. Your lips never strayed from one another as he walked backward, bringing you with him to the couch. When the backs of his knees hit it, he sat down and you straddled his lap.

“Yes princess, I want to watch you ride me,” he murmured, eyes lust blown, one hand gripping your hip as the other gripped his cock. 

You lowered yourself over him, both of you moaning as you snuggled your ass against him, fully engulfing him within you. Jesus, there was nothing like the feeling of your bodies coming together, two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly. Sex with Eddie was just as exciting as it had been in high school, possibly even more so because you were connected on a whole different level. There was nothing you wouldn’t try for him and the two of you had explored a variety of things. There was a level of comfort that made everything so much more fun. 

Your hands held onto the back of the couch as you rocked your hips against him. Eddie pressed his face against your chest, his hand on the small of your back as his mouth teased, licked, and nipped at every bit of skin he could get to. Your head fell back with pleasure, hair cascading down your back. 

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your skin, “you feel so goddamn good.”

You rotated your hips, forming figure eights and he cried out, biting his lip, fingers digging into your flesh. You knew how much that drove him crazy. You would rock forward and back, then move in circles, then figure eights, constantly switching it up and relishing every single sound of pleasure and surprise he made. This had always been Eddie’s favorite position. He wanted you facing each other so he could watch you and he loved letting you take control. 

“Baby…” you gasped, “I’m close again…fuck!”

“Me too, princess. Me too…don’t stop…come with me, baby.”

Reaching one hand between your bodies, you toyed with your clit, urging your orgasm on in an effort to give Eddie what he wanted. He brought a hand up, gripping your breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and then rolling it. It didn’t take much and you were ready to explode once again. 

“I’m gonna…shit…don’t stop…” he grunted, his hand on you losing traction as he came close to the edge. “Fuck!”

You felt his release fill you just as your own came crashing down upon you. Eddie’s arms held you in a vice, keeping your bodies pressed together as you both rode out the high. He shuddered, releasing a slow breath as his arms loosened. His hands came to cradle your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“I fucking love you so much.”

“Me too,” you murmured, pressing your forehead against his with a smile. 

[a-s-levynn]

About those new masks..

So i saw this take a few times already and i have some thoughts. Obviously it's paraphrasing but you'll see these a lot similar to this if you scroll in ST spaces since yesterday:

"These new masks have too much personality, they said the people behind the music is uniportant but they now have this new personalized look instead of the uniform sleek minimalist one and it is the direct opposite of what they are saying. These new looks do not fit Sleep Token"

Let me preface this: I'm not going to explore specific reasons why people might hate on the masks because... No i refuse to go there, but i will talk about the issues i have around this a bit.

No.

If you are hating on the new masks so much so as to cry about that "this is not what they supposed to be about" you are missing your own point. You are in fact shooting the opposite direction. You are no longer in it for "just the music" but you are very much caught upon the "everything else beside the music." You got distracted. You putting the blame on them instead on yourself for loosing your own point.

There is no moral highground in this whole ordeal. Please respect yourself enought to try not to look utterly stupid if you frothing about something you visibly misunderstood. Do not hide behind excuses. Do not put this on the artists. Own up to the fact that you simple don't like it.

Admit that it's your opinion purely; because ultimately the artist creating their own art will understand creative choices behind their creations more than you ever will. No matter how far you try to bend backwards.

The masks fit Sleep Token because it is Sleep Token who decided to have them. End of story. You can hate it all you want but it is still part of the shabang now. And don't try to mask your distaste over visuals with shouting about the artist not understanding their own ideology.

If you are so hung up on how they look like, more than what the music still is, than stop and think for a second please.. You have it backwards. If you really truly only care about the music, what it is about, what it gives you, than you are not going to give a shit what they are wearing on stage.

Maybe in a passing few sentences but otherwise you are not going to be worked up about it to the point you sent hatecomments to the artist who made them.. It is shameful.

Besides i hate to break it to people but they already had their personalities with their outfits just not this strongly. III had the random whacky shit. IV had the hint's of this comfy leisurly punk-ish techwear whatever going on besides the fancy stuff the past a months since the summer. II had a slightly sleeker but maybe sort of tech-ish look which is now reflected (in my opinion) much more strongly with this new look (which sorta reminds me of a stylized oni or something tbh and that is extremely in line with their older far-east inspired thematics visually, just saying).

They are not handing you the "we are unimportant" part anymore. They are not spoonfeeding it to you. Not in the way they had before at least. They presume you are mature and smart enough at this point to get it. To get to the conclusion that it is unimportant what they look like. And allow them to still have fun with it.

Or just they are being cheeky and went for something that would shake up the people. I don't know, i don't know them or anyone close to them. I don't have answers. But they are trying something new an it is perfectly fine.

Also which would have come off so much differently if Vessel is 100% btw. Be honest, if they would have been able to perform to their fullest abilities, far less people would be so loud over this.. This was just an unfortunate turn of events and when shit hits the fan it usually never just one dose. And my heart breaks for the boys for all this.

Besides, people were so loud about hating that "they looked the same" and "so hard to distinguish" and "easy to replace because of this" ... now they have personalized masks and looks and the same people cry about the exact opposite they did before..

Also it just occured to me that this is basically the same as the lightshow upgrade. It gives you something to look at at the rituals. The new looks are visually interesting, and with the lighting setup they have now they are gonna look like some seriously fun nightmare creatures btw. I love that already.

So all in all i don't know, i don't really have a point here i guess, but the boys are in such a no win situation right now and i hate the fact that people are shitting on them just because they don't fit their idea of "an anonymous collective" anymore. Which is reddiculous and sad because nothign has changed.

It never was about being a blank page. It was about being human. It flies over so many peoples head but the anonymity part isn't about not being a person under there. It is being about that person not having a name. It doesn't matter if the person has a personality or not. What matter there is that no name.

There is no definitiveness. It gives an open invitation for anyone to step into that person but first you need to recognise that there is a person there. And there is no doing that if there are no traces of personality. Or humanity if you will because personalities makes us humans. Don't make me hold a philosophy lecture here on what it means being human please.

It does not matter who that individual it is by tagging a name on them. But it is extremely important that there is a person there. Otherwise there is no connection point. If there is no person there is nothing to understand. But it does not matter how that person looks like. It does not matter what the person wears. Or what that person is called. What matters is that it is a human being. And as such you can understand it. Our at least you should be able to.

Regardless of the design of a mask.

[williaml0ver]

☆ <3 Naib Subedar Taking Care of Robbie ☆ <3

[🖇️] word count: 1437

[🖇️] warnings: g/n reader, not proofread - as if i ever did that before

[🖇️] author's note: this was supposed to be a multiple characters post but i realized that i am NOT made for this, at least for now lmao. I will just post the other two separately soon because it's easier for me this way. 🫨

[🖇️] Maybe this would make more sense with Memory but Robbie is like my favourite hunter of course i had to take the opportunity omg... ROBBIENATION RISE

-Ever since the past week you managed to get closer to little Robbie. Whether it happened because he was fond of your kindness or you seemed like a perfect playmate he was soon all over you - he'd share candy with you and even make cards with drawings for special occasions. One day when it was already very late you've suddenly heard a few knocks on the old fashioned door of your dorm. You've slowly gotten up, trying not to wake up your lover and opened the door. It was no one else than Robbie himself holding a small plushie. Long past his bedtime. He started explaining he's got nightmares and is scared to sleep alone today, later asking if he could join you two. If you didn't share your room you'd immediately agree, however, in this case you need to ask your boyfriend for consent.

-Naib is suddenly awoken by you, asking what's so important at this ungodly hour? Once the question's finally asked he feels confused, noticing the little boy standing behind with a "mom i just throw up" face.

-Has a hesitant stance at first. Sure, he's noticed you two started spending more time lately, but for you to be babying the boy already? He would be suggesting bringing him back to Michiko or Luchino, but the stone hearted mercenery eventually gives in after you convince him.

-When the three of you finally lay together, you are in between them since Naib prefered to be next to you, he holds you by your waist and meanwhile you hold Robbie. Naib also stays up a little longer to see both of you fall asleep, both because he just wants to look at you and make sure no tricks are being pulled. Seems like the axe boy really enjoyed sleeping together, as he loves visiting for little sleepovers from time to time. This doesn't bug the merc as much, but he still may feel a little, just a little jealous.

-Why would a man slowly pushing thirty be jealous of a small child you ask? Naib thought so as well, but when he saw you both drawing silly stuff on paper he felt somewhat envious. Just when you thought the most secretive, independent, straightforward person under this roof would never loose his cool around you, he sits next to you and starts drawing a wacky stickman.

-Ever since his sleepovers became a frequent thing, Naib is often choosen to be on babysitting duty. Sometimes with you, sometimes alone.

-I can see them having bit of a rough start at some point? Like Naib wanting to distance himself rather than be around Robbie, yet making sure he is around. He'd eye him to make sure you're not being hurt. This small boy, on the other hand, would be ecstatic to finally crack the mercernary's tough shell, the one who's making sure his playmate is safe in bed. With your help, Robbie would like to get closer to Naib, he quickly develops a big fascination with the green hooded man.

-You'd have to start slow and be patient, maybe ask Robbie to help you make lunch for the three of you and later eat together? Naib would begin recognizing the child's good intentions and eventually lets his guard down around.

-Once the adaptation is done, Naib definitely would receive the Cool Uncle™️ title without much effort and be constantly bugged by Robbie pleading him to show some cool tricks he does with his weapons. And well, Naib could be a hesitant one. You may as well step in to beg too, because how can he resist those four cute eyes? (Okay not quite if we think of Robbie but let's go on) The look in Robbie's eyes? Priceless. As if someone put diamonds in his eyes. Seeing the boy being so excited about something so ordinary to him actually boosts his ego and show some dangerous-leaning stuff, you may want to step in. Naib will soon realize that being the Cool Uncle™️ is not an easy task.

-They soon become some kind of partners in crime. Robbie discovers Naib from a totally diffrent side, he's mature, but he can also be a huge tease. He is certainly not the most talkative man, though is providing a lot of security. Naib is even willing to share some of his food of it and sometimee sneaks candies in Robbie's pocket when you're not looking.

-You'd often have to be the voice of reasons between them, as Naib's ego sometimes raises over the roof when showing off to Robbie.

-Eventually, they start spending so much time together that whenever someone spots either of them alone, they ask where the other one is. Naib feels secretly very proud of Robbie.

-One day, to your surprise, he even allowed him to wear his cape. You have a photo of him as mini Naib holding a toy knife standing on your bedroom desk.

-Robbie's personal favourite drawing is the one where he and Naib are in knight armors rescuing you from a dragon.

-Robbie's a curious child. You can't call it a day if you haven't seen him pulling the Merc by his hood and asking for yet another cool story. Naib would either make them up or just slightly modify his stories from the military.

-A lot of field trips! Naib would like to show Robbie some useful tricks, like what to do when you get lost. You, at first, thought that was a cute idea, until Robbie began climbing up random furniture. Robbie once showed you some usefk knife defence tricks that he was taught by your boyfriend, much to your horror. That man is raising a little monster.

-You once decided to go with them for one of those trips. Just out of curiosity. When you went to the toilet alone for a few minutes, Naib started teaching Robbie some fighting moves. Let's say you were terrified when you came back.

-Robbie enjoys when he is picked up by the older man. He likes to put on oversized coats he borrowed from Luchino and go to him, pretending to trick him into thinking that he has grown so quickly.

-They DO enjoy pulling pranks. And when think they would spare you and do it to others, you're actually their main victim.

-Naib specifically learnt a few "magic tricks" to show Robbie. Boy he was shocked.

-They both get overcompetitive when playing hide and seek. You always pray you're the one hiding because when it's the other way around it may take up to an HOUR, after the merc taught Robbie how to discretly switch hiding spots, much to your annoyance.

-Robbie picks up some of Naib's behaviour. Robbie seldom answer with a very sarcastic and ironic tone. You and Naib had a talk that day.

-As much as Robbie doesn't mean anything bad, he can sometimes get too brave and say something mildly offensive to you. Naib wouldn't hesitate to confront him about it and command to apologize.

-Robbie's very hyperactive, so whether Naib is reading a book or working out with Eli, he would constantly have a pair of small legs following him and asking what he's up to.

-They both like bonding over making food. If Robbie finds anything intriguing him in a cookbook it's only a matter of time until you see them picking up the indegredients together to surprise you. Naib let's him pick anything he wants for the dessert.

-Naib would teach Robbie how to prepare some easy and safe to make meals so he could feed himself on his own <3.

-During his solo babysitting duty, although caring, Naib can be strict. He secretly worries a lot and would not hesitate to send him back to the hunters' part of the manor as temporary punishment. Michiko learned to take advantage of that and would allow him to go back if he helped the butlers and maids do the cleaning.

-I can see Naib being the "go ask your mother" kind of person 😭. Also not very adequate to the era, but he would totally ask the kid if he has any cool games on his phone, just so he could get distracted and Naib could spend some time with you.

-As much as the mercenary likes Robbie, it does annoy him sometimes how he now has less private time just with you.

-Ultimately, while at first seeming closed off, Naib actually becomes very fond of him and is ready to protect him. Robbie meanwhile likes to show Naib how much he loves both of you.

I don't know what to put here... i'm posting this while listening to Shakira songs... besides the Robbie mini series with Ganji and William (half finished!) i will soon start working on date scenerios with Luchino and Kevin for valentine day yay!!!! If any of my loyal and beloved eight followers is reading this i love you guys i'm swinging my feet goodnight

[heyidkyay]

I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Twenty-Four - Part B

A/n: Hey, Part B is finally here!! It was a struggle to write but I'm so grateful to know that a lot of you were looking forward to it! Means so much. Again, like the previous part, this will be a collection of flashbacks! Please read the warnings on this one! Hope you enjoy x

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Lots of swearing as per usual, talks and acts of violence, abuse and sexual assault mentioned, description of sick/blood

Masterlist

“London?”

I nodded, eyes fixed firmly on the hands I held in my lap.

“London?!” Matty exclaimed again, only louder this time. He’d stopped pacing to stare down at me. The rest of the boys who had gathered on the sofa were all strangely quiet.

“Yeah, Matty. London.”

“The fuck she want to send you there for?” He argued back, and although I knew his anger wasn’t directed towards me, rather the situation at hand, I still couldn’t quite look him in the eye. 

Things at home had gotten… worse. Not that I’d ever let them know. And although I didn’t want to leave the lads for the summer, I didn’t think I could handle staying there another second longer.

“My nan’s down there. Reckons it’ll be good for me, to get away.” I told him in reply, unable to help the small shrug I gave before I begun biting at a loose thumbnail, “It’ll only be for a week or so.”

“But, but what about the EP? And our gigs!” Matty fought back and, honestly, I was all too thankful for the moment when I heard Hann intercept the start of what would only be another long spiel.

“It’s not like she can really tell her mum no, mate. Besides, it’s like she said, it won’t be for long. We’ll still have the rest of the summer.”

Hann looked around at the rest of the boys, hoping to see their nods. He sighed when Matty only continued on, as though he hadn’t even said a word.

“You can stay here! Lou’ll be in Spain with Dad, Mum’s still filming so she won’t even notice- not that she’d mind.” Matty started to plan, glancing towards the rest of the room for some sort of approval. “It’s a good idea, ain’t it? That way, we can all still be together.”

I exhaled, not quite a sigh, “And what do I tell my mum, when my nan phones her up and asks why I’m not there?”

Matty groaned in agitation. “Tell her to piss off! And that you’re spending the summer with your mates.”

I wish it was as easy as that.

“Matt.” Ross cut in with a certain gruffness that made Matty pause. Ross turned towards me afterwards but I couldn’t force myself to look back at him, eyes trained somewhere to the left of his head.

Ross wasn’t stupid, I knew that much. In fact, none of the boys were. But Ross was also obnoxiously observant, more so than most, and I knew that during the last few months he’d been taking notice of more things than not. He was catching on. Brushing off my excuses. Listening to the lies I weaved into truths and narrowing his eyes. He knew something was up.

“B,” He called to me- short for George’s nickname I supposed, but he hardly ever used it. My eyes skitted between his own, then away again in fear he’d be able to see it all written as plain as day across my face. “Listen, if you wanna go down to London, then go. Ignore this twat-“ Matty squawked indignantly. “The band stuff, the gigs, they’ll all still be here when you get back.” The ‘we’ll still be here’ went unsaid, but it was heard. “Only a few weeks, just like you said. If your mum wants you down there, must be a reason, ey?”

I wiggled my jaw. If only it was that simple, I thought, but simply shrugged again. “‘Spose.”

“What, so you actually wanna go?” Matty cut in, looking almost betrayed, always one for the dramatics. “Just leave us here, when everything’s finally fallin’ into place?”

I frowned at him, “No, I don’t wanna go. But-” I don’t want to stay in that house any longer.

“Exactly! Just tell her that then, babe!” Matty rushed out before I could even think of an end to that sentence, “She’ll understand, let you stay, and then we can have the entire summer, yeah?”

He was grinning so wide, it was hard to do anything but just nod in defeat. Ross and Hann shook their heads at him as they huffed and drew themselves up onto their feet.

“Alright, can we get to startin’ practice now then or is this family meeting still happening?” Hann not so subtly suggested, quirking a brow at the lot of us. I was just grateful for the opportunity to cut my loses and run, Ross was already moving over towards the amp, and Matty was nodding his hasty agreement.

“Gonna grab some drinks first though.” The curly haired singer added, and he darted out of the garage before Hann could stop him. I chuckled under my breath at Adam’s pained expression and settled further into the settee, making myself comfortable there. It was then that I caught George’s eye though and he jerked his head over towards the driveway, a quiet indication.

I chewed on the inside of my lip before I ultimately nodded, holding back a sigh. He got up first and then I followed, ignoring Hann’s exasperated huff and the lingering look I felt from Ross.

I thought that’d been it, the London topic dropped. But luck was never on my side and even though I had no idea what George would possibly have to say on the subject, I could see that he’d been far too quiet in there. Something was coming.

He wandered a way away from the garage door, slipping round the side of the house and towards the garden gate before he finally stopped, pausing to settle against the low brick wall there. It was a place we often favoured whenever we wanted a breath away from the others, sheltered by overhanging trees and bushes, you could sort of feel invisible there.

George was quiet even as he tugged an already opened pack from his jean pocket and plucked a cigarette from its case. On impulse I pulled out my lighter and flicked it open for him, lighting the end like I usually did.

“How’s Steven doing?” He asked rather abruptly, so much so that a wad of spit caught in the back of my throat at the question and I had to fight not to choke.

“Why the fuck are you asking me that?” I retorted, swallowing harshly and catching my breath.

He didn’t look at me, eyes hard and focused on the opposing wall. He shrugged a shoulder lazily, but I knew better. “You never mentioned London.”

“And what the hell has my mum’s dick of a boyfriend got to do with London?” I sputtered back heatedly, already knowing the answer.

George levelled me with a look and inhaled slowly, gaze finding mine.

“You know what.”

I scowled and folded my arms promptly across my chest. “Fuck you.”

He rolled his eyes at my reaction and billowed out a breath of smoke above us, handing me the fag in quiet offering. I shook my head. He sighed.

“I thought-”

He tried, but I quickly shut him down, “Fuck what you thought, you don’t know a thing.”

George held a single hand up in mock surrender, ash falling with it. I steeled my gaze on the thick cement tiles below us.

“Not claiming to, Birdie.” George said in his usual tone, unaware of what that nickname of his did to me. “But I know something’s up. Reckon the guys are noticing things too.”

I rubbed the curve of my arm subconsciously, knowing there was truth in his words.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked exhaustedly, all the fight I typically had had been drained from me. 

The question had been mostly rhetorical, but George wasn’t the type to care. “The truth.” He answered and I could feel his stare trained on me now.

“The truth?” I scoffed tiredly, the bitten flesh of cheek I so often ground between my teeth was scarred, bumpy as I pressed my tongue to it and thought the whole thing over.

‘Truth’ was something we’d taken to using for a while now, in the buzzing hum of our frequented cafe, within the confines of the shed at the end of my garden, sprawled on his bedsheets whilst getting high. It’d started after a small falling out I’d had with Vicky a few months prior and had continued on almost unconsciously.

Now though, I didn’t know what to tell him, what truth to acknowledge. What he wanted to hear.

George mimicked the low hum I made, cigarette pressed between his lips but otherwise unmoving. “Who’s idea was London then?”

“His.”

We both knew who I was talking about.

“Right.” George nodded once, “She just agreed then?”

She, being my mum. I dipped my chin, a silent confirmation.

His thumb was tapping away at the jut of his knee now, a rhythmic tic I often stilled with a hand covering his own. I couldn’t find it in myself to reach out and touch him now though.

“Why’s he want you gone?”

In truth, I really didn’t know. Maybe I’d gotten too much. Perhaps he’d gotten fed up.

“Think he has better things in mind than having me hang ‘round all summer.”

“You want to go?”

I let his question hang there for a moment. I was toeing two sides of the line with my answer. To go would be easier on everyone, I’d see my Nana, get to explore a whole other city, and have the chance to escape them. But being away also meant leaving the boys.

George didn’t mind not hearing my verbal reply, I think he already knew my answer. He just wanted to be sure of it. He went on, “My mum’s back in town next week.”

A truth for a truth.

“You never mentioned it.” I said, picking at a fraying edge on my denim shorts.

He gave a slow shrug, “You never mentioned London.”

“Only found out a couple days ago.” He raised a brow in return, thinning his lips. I sighed, “Alright, I should’ve said something sooner but I was thinking it over.”

George hummed, “Dad only told me this mornin’.”

Maybe that’s why he’d been so reserved since we’d met up. The whole way to Matty’s he’d barely spoken a word, but I’d been overly anxious, knowing I was planning to tell them about London, which meant that I’d been talking a mile a minute- an attempt I often used to cover it. 

“What are you gonna do?” I asked him, peering up at his solemn features through a lock of fallen hair. 

“What I always do. Stay out of her way.” He told me honestly before he took a longer drag. I watched his chest rise with it, observed how his eyes fluttered slightly. He was always so interesting to watch.

“Could come to London with me. Hide out there.” I offered and was met with the slight quirk to his mouth, he was amused by my words. “I’m serious!” I reiterated and bumped a shoulder against his arm, “Me and you. Together. Nana loves strays.”

George just laughed at that and I couldn’t help the soft smile I made at the sound. “Sod off.” He told me around a chuckle, “London does sound nice though, be good for you I reckon.”

“For us.” I insisted, the idea fully lodging its way into my brain now. “Come on, G. Don’t you think it’d be fun?”

“Yeah sure, but the wrath Matty would rain down on us fucking won’t be.” George snorted, shaking his head at me softly.

“So?” I pestered again, shuffling round on the wall to face him properly, shin pressing against his outer thigh. He glanced down at it and then away, inhaling again. “I can phone her when I get in,”

“Phone who?” George interrupted just as my fingers found the flannel he’d thrown on that same morning. I toyed with it, rolling my eyes.

“My Nana! Keep up.” I huffed at him, “I’ll phone her, ask if she’d be okay with you coming along too and you can just tell the guys you’re being held hostage by your mum, she wants family time, forcing you to go and see an aunt or summat.”

George was wearing this barely there smirk, one I recognised as a crack in his usual stoic resolve. I was wearing him down.

“Think about it, G… You can avoid your mum and waste half your summer away with me.”

I raised my brows at him, hopeful, but he just stared back at me.

“And what would I tell my dad, my mum?” He retorted, finally stubbing out the end of his cigarette and flicking the butt of it into the soil behind us.

“Tell your dad we’re going camping. All of us. And we can leave before your mum gets in.” I explained, in full out planning mode now. I could see it all coming together in my head and tugged on the cuff of his sleeve in excitement. “Come on, G. Please? Be our little secret.”

George’s gaze trailed over my face, his expression as serious as my own. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

I tilted my head, confused by his sentiment. “Of course I do. If I could, I’d take you everywhere with me. It’s us against the world, G. Always.”

He cracked the tiniest of smiles, an action I knew he had no control over, and it only seemed to grow as I matched it. I had him.

“So we’re really doing this then?” He breathed out in amused disbelief. I nodded with a painfully large grin as I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning in closer.

“Best believe it.” I replied just as he knocked his forehead against mine. Both of us unable to bite back our smiles.

“London.” George whispered.

“London.” I mimicked, marvelling at the very idea of it.

To think, I’d been dreading this entire conversation. How things so quickly changed.

And change they would…

—

“Yeah, yeah!” I prattled away, hardly holding back my anticipation. 

I’d been back barely five minutes before I’d hurried over to the landline, having snuck in through the back gate and shuffled up the drainpipe to my bedroom. I’d waited until I heard the front door slam then made a run for it, scurrying down the stairs and almost throwing the phone off its hook in my hurry. I had half hour until mum was due back from wherever she usually pissed off to, and didn’t have to worry about Old Steven seeing me as he’d just left for the pub.

“‘Course I’m excited, Nana. Haven’t seen you in ages!” I told the older woman, warmly, through the phone, twirling the chord around my finger as I did. 

She was rambling away now, had been ever since I’d said hello. She’d been gruff in her answer at first, having thought I was one of those poxy telemarketers she could often never shake, but was over the moon to know it’d been me once she’d heard my voice. 

Apparently she was rather excited to know that I was coming down to visit, though she hadn’t heard a word of it until I’d brought it up then- fucking mum. Still, she told me she’d set up the spare room and let my aunt know too, she sounded just as pleased as me. It was then that I thought it best to try and bring up George.

“Aunt Del will be so pleased to see you, love. Have to cook up something proper for when you arrive too, won’t I?” 

I smiled fondly at her voice, her heavy accent so different to mine. “Don’t have to go to too much trouble for me, nan.”

“Oh bugger off, you daft cow! My granddaughter’s comin’ to see me, I’ll do as I please.” Nana scoffed and I bit back a giggle.

“Alright.” I appeased her, then she asked what day I’d be heading off. I thought it over for a second, knowing that G’s mum was due back Sunday night, so that morning probably gave us enough time to set off and make the train. “Sunday, Nana.” I replied and she hummed, but before she could say anything in actual reply I was quick to mention the deal-breaker. “Actually Nana, whilst I still have you, I um, I was meant to ask you something. Just, I don’t want to put you out or nothing…”

“Sweet, you’d best spit whatever ask you have out ‘fore you swallow your own tongue. I ain’t gettin’ any younger and the days ain’t gettin’ any longer. So out with it.” She demanded. She was just as I remembered, headstrong to a fault and overly blunt. The woman said what she pleased and if you didn’t like that then you’d simply have to deal with it, nowt to do with her.

I huffed a mirthful chuckle, “Sorry.”

“None of that now, sunshine. Tell me what you’re after.”

“See, I have this friend…”

“Oh, a friend, is it? Let me guess, this friend of yours, they headed down my way too?” She never missed a thing that woman, I’ll give her that.

“Might be.”

Nana laughed and I could hear her shuffling about, probably in the kitchen from the sound of pots clinking in the background. “Just like your father, I tell you. Cheek on the pair of ya.”

My heart caught at her words, no one spoke of my dad. To hear that I was similar to him in any way, well that paused my whirling mind for a split second. 

Though to my Nana, it had just been an off handed comment, a slip of the tongue, because she was already breezing on by whilst I fought to catch up.

“Tell me about this friend of yours then. They nice? Treat you well?” Nana pestered, last she knew of my life here up North was my closeness with Vicky and my lingering eyes which were often casted towards her older brother, Jamie. How things had changed.

I smiled at the questions and thought of George. He was a hard person to describe in truth. There wasn’t a thing I disliked about him. There were things that annoyed me about him, sure- he was one of few people who knew exactly what buttons to press- but describing George, well it sort of felt like describing myself. That, plus, I didn’t want to give too much away.

“He’s nice, Nana.”

She hummed and I heard the sweet drawl to it, as though she was grasping at something. The sound made me flush a tad. “He’s nice, is he?”

Put my foot right in it there. Could’ve tried getting away with it by being vague, have her think it was a girl ’til George’s ginormous self gangled his way through her door, but nope.

“Yup.” I popped back, too far gone to backtrack now. 

My feelings towards George were honestly a confusing mountain of mess, but they had yet to make me force him away. Hearing my nan allude to something of the like did not help at all.

“Hm, and he’s wantin’ to follow after you, is he? Down ‘ere to see little old me.”

I shook my head even though she couldn’t see. “It were my idea. I-”

She stopped me short, “No need to explain, dove. He sounds like a very nice friend, this boy. One you’d like to keep near I assume?” I hummed noncommittally and could hear her devious smile, “Handsome is he?”

“Nana.” I droned out, regretting ever having even mentioned it now. Should’ve just surprised her, at least then she wouldn’t be teasing me like this. Actually, scrap that. That was a complete lie. She so fucking would.

“‘Course he can come along, love.” She allowed, relenting with her teasing a tad, or so I thought. “Just got the one spare room though, so if you don’t mind putting up with him for a couple nights… or I ‘spose I could just make up the sofa.”

“Whatever’s easiest for you, Nana. And thank you. I,” I inhaled slowly, the sound sharp in the quiet of the house, “I really do appreciate it, you putting me up and that.”

“Nonsense. Always worryin’ ‘bout you up there, that mother of yours never phones.” Nana tutted. If she only knew that half of it, I thought to myself. “But anyway darlin’, there’s nothin’ to thank me for, only way you could is with a pack of Rothmans Blue- Superking, mind.”

I snorted to myself, “Consider it done. Sunday paper, too?”

“Oh, you know me so well. Daily mail, none of that other shite.”

I mouthed the last few words as she spoke them, knowing that they’d be coming, and grinned when I was right. 

“‘Course not.” I said with a smile, “If you need anything else picking up, call this time Saturday, yeah?”

“You got a schedule or somethin’ there, lovie?” Nana joked, laughing lightly even as my own smile faltered slightly.

“Something like that.” I murmured, then thought I heard the key turn in the front door. 

My head snapped towards the sound, sheltering the phone against my shoulder to listen in closer. 

Yeah, someone was definitely home. 

Wary, I hurried to say my goodbyes, “Listen Nana, think that’s mum headed in now with the shopping. I’d best go and help her.”

“Shoppin’? This late?” Nana questioned but I was already standing, bouncing from foot to foot, praying to every star in the night sky that it was mum and not Steven.

“Yeah, she had a late shift tonight. Is that alright, Nana? I’ll call before I leave Sunday, okay?”

I was fretting now, heart racing as the door hinges begun to squeak.

“‘Course it is, love. Say hello to your mum too, won’t ya, sweetheart? And I’ll see you Sunday.”

“I will, love you.” I rushed out and was left with the beginnings of a smile when I heard her parrot it back to me. I hung up just as the front door slammed closed and jumped towards the kitchen sink like a trapeze artist would a free-falling rope. More than grateful to see that there were a few cups littering the basin.

I was washing up just as she walked in, I heard her paused in the archway, probably surprised to see me down here.

“What you doin’ that for?” She asked me and I glanced over my shoulder, holding back a shaky breath whilst I flashed her smile.

“Just thought I’d be helpful, mum.” I replied and turned back to the task at hand to subtly release the balloon of air that’d been swelling in my chest.

She hummed indifferently and tossed her purse down onto the kitchen table, “Steve in?”

I shook my head, “Wasn’t here when I got back.” Liar.

“Right.” She worked her jaw, staring off into space before she headed over towards the fridge, plucking up a cider. “Gonna run a bath, back’s been killin’ me. You alright to make your own tea?”

I swallowed back the hollow laugh that wanted to escape me, I always fixed my own tea. Did everything myself. “Yeah, mum.” I told her instead of voicing that though, choosing not to glance her way again.

“Right.” She repeated and then I heard nothing for a few beats before her feet were wandering out of the kitchen again and up the stairs.

I let myself slump against the counter as I listened to her disappear, hands covered in soap duds and not caring for the water that dripped its way down my forearm. I let my eyes fall close for a brief minute. That’d been too close for my liking.

—

I told George of the talk I’d had with my nan, along with the plan, the next day. We’d leave about nine, Sunday morning, to try and make it to London before the rush of lunch, and my Aunt Del would then pick us up from the station soon after.

We’d been sat on the school playing fields, waiting for the rest of the guys. Just lazing about there, seeing as we only had a couple days before school finally let out. Days like these were always the best kind though, when the teachers gave up on teaching us anything and just stuck a film on. Hoping it’d quiet our ever growing excitement. Did it fuck.

“I didn’t think you were being serious!” George exclaimed with a light laugh once I’d finally finished, eyes wide as he glanced down at me. I was sprawled out on the grass, head in his lap.

“Of course I fucking was! Do you not know me at all?” I replied in the same tone he’d used, titling my head back to exaggerate my own eyes. “We said it! We agreed!”

“So? I said I’d pull the plug on Matty’s life support machine if he ever ended up braindead, don’t mean I’ll actually do it.” George snorted right back, hands toying with the ends of my hair.

“Well, he’s not far off, is he?” I teased, even though Matty wasn’t around to hear. “And besides, I’m not Matty. I’m me. And you,” I exaggerated, pointing a finger up at him, “can’t say no to a face like this.”

“When d’you get so vain, ey?” Was all that George replied. I rolled my eyes and huffed.

“Please, G. Nana’s excited to meet you now. Can’t let her down, can you? Imagine what it’ll do to her poor old heart.”

He dragged a thumb across my lip, wiping the pout I wore right off my face. The surprising action didn’t deter me though, neither did the sickening butterflies I felt.

“Heartless heathen. Just watch this space,” I told him in false seriousness, “See when I turn up all alone and she’s devastated. So utterly heartbroken.”

“Oh shut up, would you?” George huffed, tugging on a strand of my hair and rolling his eyes at my scowl. “I’ll go.” My face quickly morphed and I knew he saw it when he leant in closer to cut off whatever I’d been about to say, our noses a breath apart. “But, only if you help me break it to the boys- my dad as well.”

I mulled it over, “I could do that.”

“You say that now.” He chuckled down at me, brown eyes dancing between my own before he pulled away and glanced over to see the boys headed our way.

To say that the rest of the band had taken the news of George’s departure easily was an utter lie. As expected, Matty had gone off on one, all grumpy and disheartened. Hann had sighed, but said that they could put off any recording sessions for a week or so. And Ross had just sat there grinning lazily at us like a overweight cat stretched out in the sun, unbothered by it but also looking a little too smug for my liking. 

I’d narrowed my eyes at him but said nothing.

George’s dad on the other hand was a whole other story.

I’d only met the man twice. Once when he’d caught me up in George’s bedroom, splayed out on the floor after having fallen out of a handstand his son had dared me into. Then a second time in the supermarket on the high street, I’d been grabbing food for the house seeing as no one else could be bothered, and he’d been on the phone to someone or other, heatedly whispering away. We’d caught each others eye, gave a strange awkward wave, then sped off down separate aisles. 

I’d been mortified both times. Not the best impression to have left on anyone, let alone your mate’s dad.

Still, I’d agreed to help and so now here I was. Sat in George’s kitchen, him at the stove, me perched by the table, both of us waiting for his dad to come home from work.

I was biting at my knuckle nervously, eyes trained on the door, George swatted my arm when he finally noticed, passing by me to pull a pack of pasta from out of the cupboard. “Why’re you so worked up? He’s harmless, plus you’ve met him before.”

Harmless, that’s how Matty often described George. I wondered if the two of them were much alike. Like my dad and I.

“I’m not.” I defended, but was levelled with a look telling me to cut the bullshit. “Fine, I just- I don’t know! Okay? Will you just run me through the story again?”

George chuckled to himself, pouring pasta shells into some salted water. “I’ll start, hint that a few of us are wanting to go camping. He won’t ask who, but if he does just say the lads. Like Hann and that- don’t mention Matty though, they’ve met.”

“He doesn’t like Matty?” I questioned with a pinched brow.

George’s shoulders moved with an unsure shrug, his back to me as he checked on the sauce he was making. I found it strange how I never knew he could cook til now. Or at least I hoped he could, I was supposed to be eating this.

“Nah, not that he doesn’t like him. Just thinks he’s a bit…” He replied, searching for the right word.

“Over the top? Eccentric? Loud?”

With a snort, George nodded. “Yeah. So, just be wary.”

I hummed, fiddling with the coasters that sat nearby. George’s house was nice, looked hardly lived in but it was tidy and inviting. Nothing as extravagant as Matty’s, but not quite like mine either. His family did well for themselves, you could see it.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I was just pulling your leg earlier.” He told me after a minute or two had passed in quiet.

I shook my head. “I said I would, didn’t I? Don’t go back on my word.” I ridiculed, giving him a knowing look as I thought back to his first agreement over the trip to London. George just rolled his eyes at me and turned back towards the stove again. 

Besides, I thought to myself, I was here now. Might as well.

The telltale sign of a car pulling up onto the drive sounded then and my eyes widened on their own accord. “Oh shit.”

I was regretting everything now. I had no idea how to act, or what to say. I wanted to crawl under the table and hide until it was safe to come out again. My mind screaming at me to just make a run for it before I fucked the entire thing up.

I was sat staring a hole into the kitchen door, just waiting anxiously, when George carded a hand through my hair. I hadn’t even heard him approach.

“Don’t stress.” 

I glanced up towards him, then blew a heavy breath out of my nose, letting my forehead fall against his stomach.

“How can you say that? I’m freaking out, G.” My words were muffled by his t-shirt and so I felt it when he gave a muted chuckle in return. Strangely, the movement soothed me, but the gentle hand he held to the back of my head helped too. 

“You’ll be fine, B.” He murmured out into the kitchen and I pulled away when I heard the front door rattle. “Besides, when have I ever let you down?”

I released a shallow breath and then plastered on a more convincing smile. I caught George’s hand in mine just before he went back to watching the boiling pot and squeezed the digits, he returned the gesture kindly. I was thankful to have him, I realised in that moment, the easy way we worked only just hitting me then.

George was back by the stove when the kitchen handle turned and we both glanced over in the direction of the door to watch his dad walk on through it. The man was tall, that was the first thing I noticed, he had to duck his head to wander through the frame so that he wouldn’t hit it, and he also looked a lot like George. They shared the same eyes.

“Oh.” The older man paused when he spotted me at the table, slowing his movements ever so slightly to process it. It seemed that syllabic reactions were also something that the pair shared too.

“Hi, Mr Daniel. Hope me being here isn’t too much of a bother.” I greeted him, trying for polite, my voice was quieter than I expected though and I noted the way George’s furrowed brow turned towards me when he heard it too.

George’s dad stepped further into the kitchen, placing a carrier bag down on the kitchen counter before he walked over to drop his briefcase onto a wooden chair.

“Not a bother.” His accent was peculiar, it held a hint of, what I could only assume to be, Dutch, that was overpowered slightly by his low speech. “And I’m Jules, no need for formalities. You must be Y/n.”

I nodded and gave a smile when he quirked one of his own, however tiny. “I am, it’s nice to properly meet you.” I told him as he propped himself into the seat sat opposite me. 

“Yes, I agree. Though I have heard a lot about you, George has spoken of you before.” Jules informed, analysing eyes flitting over to where his son was stood, pretending to be absorbed in his cooking, before they settled back on me, “He speaks highly of you.”

A genuine smile broke out across my face then and, unable to stop it, I glanced down to my lap in hopes to hide it.

“That’s kind of him.” I laughed softly and was pleased when George’s dad chuckled along with me, it was a resonant sound one that came from deep within.

“My son’s a good boy. A kind one. I hope he’ll turn into a good man also.”

The look he casted George was sweet, one I couldn’t relate to but adored all the same. This man held his son in high regard, he loved him.

George decided to grace us with a bit of input then. “Are we done talking about me now?” He quipped, looking a bit self-conscious which was new. “Just waiting for him to start telling you my most embarrassing moments or pull out the baby photos.”

I flashed his dad a hopeful grin, “I’d love that.”

Jules just laughed and glanced towards his son. “I like this girl. Where did you find her?”

George shook his head in retort, rolling his eyes but not hiding his fond smile. “She found me.”

The two of us shared a look then and laughed- he had a point.

“Oh?” Jules said, questioning gaze jumping between the both of us now.

“I heard him play. At school.” I acquiesced the older man’s wondering and instinctively he knew I was talking about drumming. “He was hiding away in the music room when I’d been walking past, decided to poke my head in.”

“Ambushed me, more like.” George scoffed, a tea towel slung over his shoulder, looking every bit like the chef he was feigning to be. 

“I did not!” I gasped.

George laughed loudly, I was marvelled by the sound but I didn’t let it put me off upholding my honour. 

“You did.” He affirmed, “Gave me an address on a piece of paper like some slick gangster and told me to be there.” 

“I- it was-” I tried to find the right response but he had me there- although, slick gangster was quite the compliment if I was being honest. “I was just trying to be helpful! Besides, you hardly said a word to me. I thought you hated me at first!”

George quirked a brow, as though this was a surprise to him, maybe it was.

Jules cut in, his question held a hint of mirth, “An address?”

George glanced towards his dad and nodded once more, “For the band. That’s how I joined.”

“Ah.” George’s dad sounded, “Are you in this band too?” He asked me.

George snickered and I tried not to glare at him as I answered Jules. “No, just the boys. I keep them all in order though.”

“The world would crumble without a woman in charge. Count yourselves lucky.” Jules sent a grin towards his son, it was toothy and I noted that the fine lines around both his eyes and mouth resembled those I’d seen on George. His familiar eyes found mine next, “Do you play though?”

I shook my head, if only. “I can play a few chords on the piano but I’m no Chopin.” Adam’s doing, that. 

“Sing?” Jules questioned and I found myself wringing my hands beneath the tabletop.

“A little. Not in front of people though.” I told him honestly, not paying mind to the pause George made or the way his expression deepened. “It’s something of my own.”

Jules looked to me then, really looked at me I mean, and dipped his head in an earnest understanding. “Some things are meant for the heart, these are the things that keep us grounded.”

I nodded too, thankful that he could relate in some way, and the kitchen settled into a peaceful lull for once. No nervous energy to be found. George turned his back on us to drain the pasta and stir a pot.

After a few muted minutes filled with George just puttering about, he padded his way over and placed two plates before his dad and I. We thanked him and he returned with one of his own as well as a bowl of grated cheese. He and his dad tucked right in, loading up on the mountain of parmesan, I however passed.

George cleared his throat once we’d all settled in, his foot finding my ankle beneath the table. I peered over to him but he was still staring down at his dinner. “I forgot to mention, dad. There’s this trip coming up.”

“At school?” Jules asked him, not noticing George’s awkward stance, the way his shoulders were hunched over his plate. I nudged my knee against his encouragingly.

“No, um just a group of us. To celebrate the end of the year.” He replied, having paused in his eating now to watch his dad’s reaction, who was still chewing happily away. “Camping.”

That did catch the man’s attention. “Camping?” He mimicked, one brow raising as he looked to George. “Where?”

“Down by the coast. Margate way.” Wow, he’d really thought this through.

His dad hummed around his next mouthful, then turned to me. I tried not to falter under his attention and the sudden pressure I felt. “Are you going, Y/n?”

I swallowed. 

“I am. It’s a big group of us. Seven or so.” I replied. In truth, there was an actual trip happening with some of the kids in our year- Vicky was actually going. They were all headed to some festival, a few of them camping out there, others staying in hotels nearby or with mates. When Matty had first heard about it he’d wanted to tag along, but then he’d saw the lineup and thought better of it.

“And your parents don’t mind?” Jules prodded, ignoring the sharp look George sent him.

“My mum is looking forward to the peace.” I joked with a soft chuckle, aiming to ease some of the nervousness I felt. “But she doesn’t mind, as long as I keep in touch and stay safe.”

God, I’d really pulled that one out of my arse, hadn’t I?

Jules seemed to buy it though and hummed again, folding his hands together. “When is this?”

“Next week, they’re leaving Sunday.” George answered, taking a sip of the drink he’d made us earlier.

“Your mother-�� His dad attempted to say but George was swifter, “I know, that’s why I’m asking you now.”

Jules didn’t look too happy about the interruption or having been put on the spot, but didn’t comment on it, nor did he add to George’s explanation.

“I could call her, mention it.” Jules murmured, thinking it over as his eyes passed over his son’s. “But I don’t think she will mind. As long as you have fun, ah?”

The older man grinned and I felt the tightness in my chest loosen, going back to my food as the duo continued to talk more about the trip and then the football match that was supposedly on later tonight. 

I smiled to myself, figuring that this was probably the most normal family interaction I’d been apart of in a long time. And my smile only grew when George trapped my ankle between both of his feet, a silent acknowledgement.

He walked me home later that evening, hands in our pockets after having said a quiet goodbye to his dad, who’d looked just about ready to nod off on the sofa. 

It was quiet out and the walk was short so we decided on taking the long way, talking amongst ourselves, me staring up at the stars, him kicking at the pebbles we passed by.

“You never mentioned singing before.”

George’s sudden mention of the earlier topic faltered my step briefly, but I kept looking on. “Not something I tell most people.” I replied with a lazy shrug.

“Why?” He asked me, and if it’d been anyone else I’d’ve told them to mind their own. But this was George. George who new more parts of me than most. Who knew and didn’t judge. Who never whispered a word of it to anyone.

I rolled my lips against one another. “It was just something I always shared with my dad.”

George didn’t say anything for a minute or so, probably mulling it over, thinking of something to say. People always got so tense whenever I mentioned him. Death made people weird.

“You any good?”

That ask prompted an unexpected laugh from me and I peered over at him with a bright smile, teeth brushing against my lower lip. 

He knew me so well. I didn’t need pity, apologies, sympathy. 

“The next Britney, me.”

George grimaced and I chuckled some more before gazing down at my feet.

“I don’t know. My dad liked to hear me, said it reminded him of when his grandad used to take him to the local market down by the lock near their house. The women there used to sing on the barges that passed.”

George hummed around a sweet smile, “Will you sing to me?”

“Not even on your dying day.” I quipped right back, laughing when he stopped to narrow his eyes at me. 

“Come on, just a song. A verse!” He attempted to bargain but I wouldn’t budge, shaking my head.

“You’re going to get me in trouble, you know.” I told him with a laugh, “Was meant to be home twenty minutes ago, I’ll have to shuffle up the drain again.”

“Well, we’re already late so you’ll still have to make do with that drainpipe of yours, or I can offer you a shoulder up.”

I snorted softly, “What a sight that’d be if a neighbour saw.”

George gifted me a lopsided grin and continued on walking, “So no chance of a song then?”

I shook my head.

“Not even if I swore to moon the headmaster tomorrow morning?”

I wasn’t quick enough to swallow down my loud cackle, not having expected that response from him.

“As if you’d showcase your spotty arse to the entire school.”

George hip-checked me, “Fuck you, I do not have a spotty arse.”

“Well, how would I know? I’ve never seen it.”

“This your way of asking?” He smirked back, winking at me.

My jaw dropped at his blatant cheek, honestly so surprised I struggled to find a proper retort. “You wish.” 

George snorted at the flustered reply and continued walking on with a proud grin. He’d bested me there, we both knew it.

I huffed and let him have the win. Mostly because we were fast approaching my house and I could already see that the lights were still on.

With a sigh, I slowed my steps, all but lugging myself along the pavement now. George seemed to notice, but when did he not?

“You can always call me, you know? Just a text away.” He spoke, voice trailing out along the late summer air.

He knew I was dreading going inside, but that was to be expected. I always felt that way.

Instead of making any fuss though I merely grinned, waving him off. “I’ll be fine. But make sure you put your dad to bed, hey? Heard him complain about his back as he bent down to get in the freezer. He’ll regret kipping on that settee come morning.”

George gave me a small smile, finding amusement in my truthful words, but I could see the concern in his eyes. The worry lines that aged his face. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” I assured, smiling up at him. “Last day and then we’re home free, G!”

George nodded at the reminder and tugged a hand out from his pocket to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, fingertips trailing along my jaw ever so gently. I held my breath. Wondering if he’d finally close that distance between us. If he knew I wanted it just as badly.

But then he pulled away again and I tried to hide my sinking disappointment.

“See you tomorrow, Birdie.”

I gave him a crooked smile and pushed up on my tiptoes to press a careful kiss to his cheek. “Tomorrow. Night, G.”

…

I was on a bit of a high as I made my way around the side of the house, trainers dodging the dried out mud puddled beneath the kitchen window before I slid through the wearing wooden gate. 

George hadn’t made a move but it was a baby step. 

Ross’s words repeated on a loop in my head as I climbed my way up onto the garden wall to grab at the ledge sat just above the backdoor. Once I was stable there I shuffled my way up and over to my bedroom window, always just leaving it off the latch. 

‘He’s half fucking in love with you.’

‘But that’s alright, I guess. Seeing as he has no clue that you like him too.’

He was a wise one, our Ross. But I don’t know, part of me was desperate to believe him, the other fearful- of what, I wasn’t quite sure.

I forced out a heavy breath as I lugged my body in through the open window, being mindful not to make too much noise as I stuck my landing.

With a breathless exhale I spun around to close the window again, startling when I saw a figure sat in the corner of my room, looming in the old wicker chair I’d had there for years.

My hand jumped up to my racing heart as I processed the shock, biting back the sudden fear that crawled its way up the back of my neck when I noticed his predatory grin.

“Been wonderin’ how you’ve been sneakin’ in and out without me noticing.” Steven commented causally, as though it was perfectly normal for a grown man to be sat up waiting for a teenage girl in her bedroom. “‘Cause at first, you see, at first I reckoned you were just pretty stealthy. Funny that, what with you bein’ so lard.”

He snorted at his own joke, but I paid his cruel words no attention, far too used to the rotten things he’d often spout. Men were all the same, only Steven just didn’t have a single good bone in his body. 

I walked over to my dresser, fiddling with the rings there before I reached for a hair tie. I was trying not to show him that I cared, that I hated him for invading my space, that I wanted to run as quick as my legs would let me away. If I did then it was game over, he’d win.

I almost didn’t hear him stand, so I tensed slightly when a floorboard creaked beneath his weight. He approached from behind, his face coming into view beside mine in the dresser mirror. I didn’t look him in the eye.

“Where you been then? Out with yer mates, or were you gettin’ your leg over?”

Bile rose, it suffocated my senses for a moment before I steeled myself. He wouldn’t get the upper hand here. I wouldn’t give him a reaction.

“Saw you outside with that lad. Harry down the pub says your often with him, sees the two of you out late most nights.” Steven said snidely, “Do you love him, pet? Reckon he loves you back, do ya?”

My eyes flew up towards his in the mirror, “Did you want something, Steven?”

He whistled lowly then and I watched his mouth tug up into a menacing smirk as his eyes grazed over my face in the reflection, slowly making their way down to the curve of my neck and then lower. I kept my head held high even as I turned to slide out from between him and the dresser, only I wasn’t quick enough.

His hips jerked out instinctively and he pinned me to the wooden drawers. My mind buzzed, I was panicking now. He’d never gotten close like this. A punch here, a shove there. But, never like this.

“Let me go.”

“Why, petal? Don’t you think we could have some fun?”

“Let me go.” I repeated, firmer this time, fists steeled against the countertop. 

When he only laughed at my reaction I took the chance his ego gave me, kicking back swiftly with my leg to hit him just below his knee and buckle him. He did, but only just, springing out to claw at me as I darted my way to the bedroom door. 

I screamed when I felt his hands catch at my waist, but the handle was already in my hand and so I tugged as hard as I could. It opened, flying out to catch the side of my face. 

Shocked by the sudden impact, my head fell limply and I stopped struggling for a moment. His hold tightened though and I knew I had to keep on, get to the stairs, then to the front door. 

Just get out. 

“Let go!” I screeched, scratching at his greedy hands and tugging my body relentlessly towards the hallway. 

It was a game of tug-of-war, and for him I supposed I was the prize. But I wasn’t too easily won. I sent another kick backwards, he avoided it. I used the same foot to crash down hard on his toes, he yelped and loosened his arms slightly in surprise, enough for me to break out into the hall, crashing into the wall opposite my room. 

His fist collided with the back of my head just as my cheek bounced off the photo frame mum had hung there, I slumped lower, wiggling my way downwards and towards where I knew the banister would be.

“Don’t, be, difficult.” He grunted out. 

“Fuck you.” I spat back. 

On the floor now, I rolled over and ignored the carpet that burned the skin of my arms. I kicked harder, vision hazy as he loomed over me. He struck me again for talking back, like he often did whenever he was home, but then hit me twice more just because he could. Laughing about it now.

I forced myself backwards, the hallway was dim, the only light coming from the bedroom at the end of the walkway. I wondered if she was in there. If she could hear all of this. “Mum?” I called out, wailing almost. “Mum!”

Steven laughed harder at that. “She ain’t here. Even if she were, she’d be no help to you, you little tramp. Now get up!” He ordered and I felt the back of my hand brush against the wooden beam of the banister. “Up!”

I did as I was told, legs trembling before me. He struck me back down again, then ordered the same. “Up!”

I could hardly feel anything but the licking fire that flooded my veins, every inch of my body hurting. But I couldn’t let it show.

I stumbled to my feet, vision so blurred I ought to be concussed. He pinned me to the wall there, hands roaming, I whimpered and he only grinned, getting in my face.

“Pretty when you try, ain’t you?” He snarked. I gritted my teeth and thrashed about, spitting in his face when I couldn’t smash his head away with my own.

He worked his jaw for a moment, blinking once at me before another disgusting smirk replaced his thinly pressed lips.

“I could kill you, here and now. Make it hurt, do it nice and slow. No one would even notice. Would they? No one would be none the wiser. You hear me?” He hissed brutally into my ear, I was quivering now, whimpering as he drew closer and closer, pressing against me. “Yer mum would thank me, kiss my feet even, for having gotten rid of the tart she birthed. She cries, you know. All the time. Tells me she wishes it were you who died, and not your old man.”

I choked on a sob, thrashing again. He laughed joyfully. 

“Is that it? Do you miss yer daddy, little girl?” He taunted, mouth pressing against the skin of my cheek now, breath hot as his fingers worked at the button of my shorts. “But he ain’t comin’ to help you, petal. No one is.”

I turned my face further away from him, as far as I possibly could. Lip trembling and arms falling slack. He chuckled, shaking his head at me and tutting, but his mistake was thinking I’d make this easy for him. He could go fuck himself. 

As soon as he released one of my wrists to paw at the cut of my shorts, I shot my knee out, colliding with his lower half hard. He groaned in pain, fingers flexing against the jut of my wrist when I shoved him as hard as I could away with my free hand. 

He twisted the arm he still held as he stumbled slightly, but I couldn’t react, not even to the sharp pain that flew up towards my elbow. I had to take the chance while I still had it, thrashing even more and grabbing blindly for the ancient ornament my mum had kept on the shelf nearby for years. I brought it down hard once my fingers wrapped around its metal, smashing it against the hand that still encased my arm. He shouted out and in his agony flew his uninjured arm back at me, knocking the side of the ornament I still gripped and sending its pointed top sailing towards my neck. It pierced the thin skin between my collar and shoulder blade.

I pulled it free thoughtlessly, gawking at the sight of it before he came flying towards me. On instinct I chucked the hefty ornament back his way, catching the side of his head when he attempted to duck away from it. I darted towards the bathroom in the same second, the closest room available, and slammed the door shut behind me. Fiddling with the lock, it slipped through my fingers three times before it finally latched.

I looked around the room for anything to protect myself with, shaking violently, but my only option was the plunger and the cabinet on the adjacent wall. But I wasn’t even sure that it could come away. My next idea was the window. 

Steven banged at the door then, a flight of fury, anger creeping in from the tiny gap beneath it as he shouted at the top of his lungs. I was already crouched in the sink, heartbeat filling up my ears. I fumbled with the window’s latch, coating the white windowsill in red as I forced the tiny pane open as far as it’d go.

I glanced out helplessly, trying to actively ignore the harsh thumping coming from behind me. I was a whole story up and had nothing to catch me down below, not even a ledge or a pipe to help me with my descent. 

I paused for a moment to try and think things through, but that was my mistake, the bathroom door behind me splintered under the full force of his weight and he all but jumped across the tiled floor to grab at me. 

I didn’t even think about it, throwing myself out of the open window in my panic, but not quick enough it seemed because his hand wrapped itself halfway around my leg like a snake would its prey. I was practically dangling upside down out of the window now, my hands desperately clawing at the brickwork to find something to hang onto. Still kicking as he tried to pull me back inside. 

I’d rather die, I thought in the hectic haze, or maybe I screamed it.

I heard her voice then. Her screaming out his name, my eyes shot up to see a flash of her hair above me in the bathroom. But it was in that moment that he chose to finally release me. That he finally let me go. And I fell. Dropped. Barely even feeling the ground as I splattered against it, face full of grass, hip colliding with the concrete patio.

She called out for me then. Said my name. It was the first time I’d heard her say it in weeks. 

My vision begun to flash, coming in and out of focus in thick streaks, I dragged myself upwards. Pain radiated throughout the length of my body as I did, but I just kept on going. Knowing if I kept on going then this would be the last of it. It would all be over.  

Struggling, fighting with myself to just keep on, to escape, I staggered down the garden path to pass through the side gate and out onto the sheltered drive. I clung to the wall there, using it as a crutch to aid me along.

I could still hear their shouts over the ringing, the incessant ringing that distracted me from most of the pain. I kept on pushing, forcing myself out onto the street now. Someone was coming after me, I’d heard the door rattle open but hadn’t dared look back, too focused on moving forward. 

My name.

I heard her call my name over and over. 

But somehow, by some miracle, I managed to break into a limping run. My lungs ached and I was gasping for air, but once I’d made it far enough, as far as I was capable, I felt my body drop against the curbed pavement. Head buried in the gravel road, hand clutching at my throbbing shoulder.

Next thing I knew there were lights, people. Sirens.

I kept on screaming.

“Don’t touch me! Please!” I sobbed, utterly distraught, “Don’t!”

They couldn’t touch me. I wouldn’t- they couldn’t. I wouldn’t let them.

So many voices flittered in and out of focus, attempts to talk me down, to help.

Everyone had gathered around to witness, it seemed, and I caved further into my shivering body, unable to focus on their whispers, the gasps, the looks. I didn’t know where I was. I was too scared to even ask. Too shocked to notice the familiar faces that littered the neighbourhood, looking down at me. Too terrified that he’d find me. That I’d be dragged back.

I sobbed harder. Eyes flicking to and fro. Trying to assess the situation, looking for any and all warning signs. An escape. But I couldn’t. Head too heavy to concentrate, my thoughts shutting down. 

Then there was a scuffle off to the far side and I tensed at the shouting that pursued, someone nearby was ordering people to step back, to go home.

Home, I wanted so desperately to scoff. How could I go home?

“Hey! You can’t be here.” They repeated, their voice itching at my skin, tightening every single muscle in my body. “Move away. Step away now!”

“She’s my friend! Let me fucking through. Y/n! Y/n!” 

Breathless, my head snapped up at the call of my name and through my hazy vision, I caught a glimpse of him. Him. How he’d known I was here, I had no idea, but he was there.

“George.” I sobbed openly, and that was the signal that seemed to allow him access. 

He all but threw himself towards me and the woman crouched about a foot away called out a warning to him, but I was reaching out too. Desperate for that safety that’d been so easily ripped away from me. 

I continued to sob, for who knows how long. He held me, tight. An anchor and a protector. He never let anyone get near. The sirens and flashing lights faded, and all I could hear was his voice. He sounded so lost. I wanted to apologise. I wanted him to hold me tighter.

“Come on, B. You need to get up now, alright? I need you to let them check you over. You won’t stop bleeding.”

He kept on repeating himself. Over and over. I couldn’t understand why. I was fine. Terrified but fine. I didn’t need them. I didn’t need to be touched. I didn’t want to be looked at. 

I wanted to go home. But where the fuck was home?

It wasn’t back there. It wasn’t with him.

I cried harder. 

“Birdie. Hey, Birdie, babe. Listen to me please. I’m here. I’m here and I’ve got you. Come on, we’re going to get into the ambulance, okay? Together. Just me and you.”

Me and you. “Me and you.” I repeated, his hand tightening a fraction in mine.

“That okay? Can you do that for me, love?”

I think I nodded, I couldn’t be sure. Uncertain of which way was up and which way was down. I leaned against his sturdy frame. “George, I lied.” I gasped out to him through my relentless spluttering, clawing at his chest. 

He didn’t reply.

“I lied, G! I said I’d be fine.” I cracked, barely even aware of the words I was spewing to him. “Can you stay? Please can you stay? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

He wrapped himself further around me, hand in my matted hair. 

“Yeah, Birdie. I’ll stay. I’m not going nowhere.” He assured me, gentle as he lifted me up and into the ambulance. “I’ve got you.”

—

I’d always hated hospitals. Ever since my dad had died. 

I hated the fact that I was here again, in the same one he’d left us in. Left me in. 

I didn’t pay much attention to anything, only ever reacting when someone touched me without warning. Waking when a nurse would pop her head in or when someone would pass outside the door.

George was dozing in the chair beside my bed. I couldn’t remember calling him. I couldn’t remember much. I suppose I didn’t want to.

I ached. Everywhere.

But it was my mind that caused the most pain. Relentless in its pursuit to keep me under. To never let me forget.

I could still feel his hands. The groping, the press of his mouth. The breath on my ear. 

I shivered, forcing back the tears and swallowing past the harsh lump.

My eyes fluttered again. Heavy now. Heavier than ever. The room faded, George’s faint breaths lulling my mind, sleep dragging me under. 

——

“Fuck!” George hissed out, slamming his fist into the opposing wall to keep from chucking up whatever else his stomach had left to give. “Fuck.” He repeated, only with a lot less conviction, less drive.

She wouldn’t stop crying. She wouldn’t let them come near. She’d been so defenceless.

And where was I? His head screamed at him.

Where the hell was I?

His fist collided with the wall above the toilet again, face scrunched up tight to keep from crying too.

His breaths grew ragged, hands clenched hard enough to hurt, all whilst feeling sick to his stomach. 

He startled.

A knock had sounded from just outside and he inhaled a sharp breath, waiting a moment, before he croaked out, “Yeah?”

He sounded so weak. Voice shaking.

“Um, there’s a call here for you, sir.” An unfamiliar voice spoke through the thick door, “Asking for a George Daniel.”

He swallowed thickly, the action doing nothing at all to dull the nausea that rolled through him. “Yeah.” He rasped in reply, pulling the toilet chain and moving towards the door as his insides flushed away.

He stepped out into the quiet corridor, to where she now laid asleep in the room opposite. George’s tired, albeit alert, gaze honed in on a nurse dressed in blue staring carefully back at him. 

“They’ve phone three times now.” She told him, voice soft. “I kept them on the line, but I can’t hold them off any longer.”

George swallowed again and nodded to her, casting a long glance into the room beside them.

The nurse followed his eye, “She’s strong. They’ll let her go soon enough.”

He dipped his head and reluctantly let her lead him down towards the ward’s reception desk, to where a phone was sat off the hook. She gestured towards it with a nod and then left him to it.

It was late enough that there weren’t many people mulling about, let alone any visitors, he’d only been allowed to stay because she’d refused to be treated otherwise.

“Hello?” George answered, voice cracking, having picked up the phone and brought it to his ear.

“Fuck. George, that you, mate?”

Ross.

“Yeah, yeah it’s me.” He answered in a slow breath, “How’d you know to call?”

“It’s everywhere, mate. They say she got jumped, is it true? Is she alright?”

Jumped.

His mind lingered on that word. Staring off down the corridor. Lingered on the fact that people in their shitty fucking town were already gossiping about it. It made him hate himself a little bit more.

“She’s asleep.” Was all that he replied.

“Is she. Okay. George.” Ross demanded before the line went quiet once more, eerily George could still hear the other boy’s resolved glare from down the phone. It was a hard image not to picture.

“She’s,” He had to pause, force down the wetness in his tone, the tears that were coming. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Ross stressed and George had never heard him sound so serious. So grown up.

“They found her on the road just off of mine. Some woman.” He swallowed again, though the salvia was just pooling in his mouth at this point. “Y/n. She, she was screaming- sobbing. I only knew about it when I heard the sirens, the lights. I- I just had a feeling, Ross. I ran down, hoping, praying, but… Fuck.”

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, breaths laboured.

“George?” Ross called out to him, “You still there?”

“Yeah,” He rasped in reply, straining to keep his voice even as he wet the flesh of his lip. “She. She’s been checked over, they have her on a drip. No broken bones, just a few sprains. Said she jumped from a window.”

“She did what?”

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know what happened, but it weren’t good.” George muttered to himself, bloodshot eyes trained on an off-centred tile a way away. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. She- there was so much blood, Ross.”

“Blood? What the fuck are you talking about, what went on?” Ross hissed down the phone, George knew that he wasn’t really asking him.

“Stab wound to her shoulder.” He answered though, needing to get it all out, in fear he’d never be able to again. “Wasn’t very deep but they stitched it up. Along with the cut on her head.”

“Hang on- stabbed? George, what?”

“I don’t know, Ross!” He stressed, tears blurring his vision now as he thought back to her sat there on that roadside, beaten, alone, sobbing. “I don’t know, okay! I just- I don’t know what to do. What do I do? What do I say?”

A long pause.

“It’s my fault.” He whispered brokenly into the receiver, “I let her leave. I let her go home.” He admitted quietly, tear rolling down the skin of his cheek. “It’s my fault, Ross.”

“G… mate, you can’t say that. It’s- you didn’t know.”

He did. He knew. He’d known for a long time how bad it was. How bad it’d been. He knew. He knew. He knew. 

“It’s all my fault.”

A piercing scream startled him then and he all but dropped the phone to dart in its direction. Three long strides and he was at her door, shouting at the idiot that’d come in to tamper with the IV beside her, his entire body trembling. 

“Get out!” He demanded, hands shaking in fury, in fear. Before he looked towards her, hating that he saw that same terror reflected on her face. He rushed to her side and she grabbed aimlessly for his hand, he let her take it. Let her burrow her face in his chest as he wrapped an arm around her and settled on the edge of the bed. “I’m here.” He murmured into her hair, “I’m here, Birdie.”

——

No one should’ve known, no one had heard it from me. 

But everyone did.

The police had been by. Twice.

So had Matty’s mum, she’d charged in this morning and started making demands. Not daring to touch me, to ask questions.

She sat with me whilst they ran more tests, George outside with the boys. They were quiet. All four of them. I would’ve felt humiliated, deep down I probably did, but I couldn’t feel much of anything with how horrified I was. With how my mind never let up, never let me rest.

He’d been arrested, an officer had told me. Not charged, not yet. Maybe not ever.

My mum had come by asking questions, someone had sent her away. I hadn’t seen her. 

Next thing I knew I was being carted out of the hospital and into the back of Denise’s car with a pile of leaflets and a therapist to contact. No one said a word. 

The police were outside of Matty’s when we arrived, I ignored them until my eyes found George hunched on the settee. He was still in the same trackie bottoms from before, I could tell because they were still littered with specs of my blood. The white t-shirt was gone though, replaced by one of Matty’s biggest hoodies, which still looked too small on him.

Denise and George stayed with me whilst I was questioned again, repeating the same answers again and again. The boys just outside. I told the officers most of what happened. Told them about the way he’d treated me, and mum. How she wasn’t to blame. How scared she’d been. Liar. 

They spoke to Denise as though I wasn’t there afterwards and, in a way, I supposed I wasn’t. Not really. Mind off elsewhere.

George had let me hold his hand through the entire thing, fingers pale against mine. He’d kept looking at me, every few seconds, as though he was scared I was going to disappear or maybe just fall apart.

I kept thinking back to him. To the ambulance ride. To the whispers he’d gifted me, the promises he’d made. How I’d lied. Liar. 

School had been and gone, my last day snatched from not just me, but all the boys too.

Denise let me have the guest room, running me a hot bath and laying out some clothes. I’d been thankful for the offer but wary, George had followed me up in silence and then planted himself on the floor outside the bathroom without a word.

He’d still been there when I’d let the door creak back open, lifted his head and given me a tired smile before we’d both puttered into the bedroom.

It was barely even afternoon before I crawled into the bed upstairs. Larger than I was used to, having been holed up on the same twin sized mattress I’d had since I was thirteen.

I was fearful that George would go home at that point, but he merely showered and borrowed some more clothes off of Matty. He dwarfed them but I smiled as he entered the room to silently set up the blow up mattress Denise had brought in.

Matty had stopped by to say goodnight, pain in his pretty brown eyes, but with a brave smile limning his lips. I’d let him squeeze my hand before he’d left, shutting the door quietly behind him. George took up space on the mattress below and I shuffled all the way to one end of the bed to reach my hand out towards him. He took it without a second thought and I fell asleep like that, with his hand tucked safely in mine, his thumb soothing careful circles into the back of my wrist.

—

“Are you sure, sweetheart? I mean, you’re barely even out of hospital.” Denise fussed over me as I waited for George to join us downstairs. 

It was finally Sunday. Which meant we were leaving. 

“I’m sure.” I told her quietly, she hid her frown well but I could still see it there, behind the lingering look she gave me.

“At least let me drop you both to the station, or pack you something to take with you.” Denise continued, I smiled when she cradled my cheek. “You’ve hardly eaten since I’ve seen you! Worries me.”

I knew it did. Matty had already brought me up both breakfast and lunch, and it was barely gone ten.

“I’ll take the lift if you really are offering.” I acquiesced and watched a smile bloom on her face.

“Right then, I’ll go grab my keys.”

She puttered off just before George shuffled his way down the stairs, Matty talking his ear off all the while. I smiled at the sight of them, at the way George rolled his tired eyes.

He’d hardly slept, same as me, but I still felt a twinge of guilt ripple through me when he caught my staring. 

“Oh look! It’s the second half to the pair of traitors I once called friends.” Matty scoffed as he bounced off the third step and dropped down onto the floor, he turned his nose up at me and I rolled my eyes in return. Unfazed by his melodramatics.

“Don’t be jealous, Healy. You’ll always be my favourite.” I smirked at him, hoping it looked as genuine as it felt. 

Matty grinned in turn whilst George settled the duffle he’d picked up from his yesterday by the front door, he strolled back over to join us.

“Hear that, G? I’m her favourite.” Matty boasted, sniffing with an overly pleased smile.

George wrapped an arm around my shoulder and, naturally, I leant into him. “Don’t think it matters, mate. You’ll still be stuck here, whilst we’re off in the city.”

Yeah. Matty now knew of our little secret. 

It had all come out late last night, when I’d fought tooth and nail with George about the trip down south. I still wanted to go, more now than ever. But he’d had his reservations.

With a childish scowl, Matty made a face in retaliation and propped himself up against the banister bar. “Still can’t believe you lied to us. I mean, where’s your sense of camaraderie?”

I chuckled to myself, hiding the soft sound in the groove of George’s shoulder.

“I’m stuck here, all fucking summer long, with Hann and Ross… mum too! I can already picture it! The four of us down at the pub, just drowning our sorrows and sniffling into our pints. You can’t actually leave me here with them!”

When I glanced back up Matty had seemingly decided to drop to his knees to beg for an invitation, hands clasped before him, that was also the same moment Denise decided to pop back in.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Matthew. What in heavens are you up to now?” She scolded with a half-hearted huff, tutting as she shook her head at her eldest son. 

“I’m making a plea, mum.” Matty told her in all seriousness, barely sparing her a glance as she passed by. 

“For goodness sake.” Denise sighed, unable to do much else, which was almost always a given with anything Matty related. “Get up off the floor and make yourself useful, would you? I’ve got the hoover plugged in, be a dear and run over the rugs for me.”

Matty’s hands fell limply to his sides just as his mouth dropped in disbelief. He glanced back towards George and I. “You see what kind of hell you’re leaving me in? What teenage boy hoovers??” 

“Mine!” Denise told him simply, poking at his shoulder to get him to stand with smile, “Now, run along. I’ve got to drop these two off before their train leaves, haven’t I?”

George and I took that as our queue to start grabbing at our things, him swiping up the small suitcase Denise had taken from mine yesterday before I had the chance. I flattened my expression, showing my displeasure. 

“Mum.” Matty all but whined, neither one of them paying much attention to us now. “Can’t I just come? You know, see my mates off and all.”

Denise wasn’t a woman to be bargained with. “No, you’ll see them soon enough. Now, if you’d like to make your goodbyes while I start the car then have at.”

I bit back the giggle that wanted to escape me upon seeing Matty’s dejected face, whilst Denise double checked for her car keys and purse then slid out the front door yelling, “Five minutes!”

“You make it sound like I’d been sentenced to death, woman!” Matty shouted out after her and his mum’s reply was what broke the dam, letting a flood of muffled laughter escape me. “Hoover and you might just live to tell the tale, Matthew!”

Matty grumbled to himself, shaking his head before he peered back over at us with his hands on his hips, looking like a little old lady.

“So, you know what happened here then if I’m missing when you two get back.” He sighed, as though he’d already gone and accepted his fate. “Tell the coppers it was her, yeah? And have a party at my funeral, no fuckin’ tears or nothin’ either. Oh, and I want my coffin a bright pink, the flowers can-”

“Matt.” George spoke with an amused chuckle, cutting into Matty’s longwinded rant. He opened his arm out wide and snorted when the curly haired freak catapulted himself across the hall at him. 

“Gonna miss you lot.” Matty mumbled into George’s shoulder before he pulled away and stepped towards me, a little warily. I moved over to him, silently assuring him that I wanted a good cuddle too. He grinned down at me and I felt him press a gentle peck to the top of my head when he’d wrapped me up in his arms. “Make sure you bring me something back, yeah? Something sick.”

I smiled fondly as we parted, squeezing his fingers briefly. “Promise.”

Matty’s gaze trailed between the two of us then and a sly smirk begun to overwhelm his features. “And I want all the details about this-” he waved a hand between us, “when you get back.”

The fucker. Way to make things awkward, I thought. 

I honestly did go to correct him, to tell him that nothing had happened between George and I. But G beat me to it. 

Well, not really, because he didn’t deny anything of the sort, just laughed as he treaded closer to the door. “Bye, Matty.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Matty called out after us, and I chuckled as I followed George out. 

Always one to make a scene though, Matty stood and waved us off from the front step of the house once we’d both settled in the car and Denise had just begun to pull away.

His mum only sighed.

—

I shifted again for what felt like the umpteenth time. 

I was uncomfortable. Incredibly so, enough that I was quickly beginning to regret having been so stubborn about not postponing this entire trip when the offer had been there.  

“You alright?” George asked from where he sat across the table from me, his hands toying with a ticket. 

We were on the train now, the journey just under three hours. But we weren’t even a quarter of the way through yet and I was already dreading the rest of it.

I nodded in reply, still shuffling about. “Just can’t get comfortable.”

My body ached, my head and spine were bruised to bits, but it was just my hip that wouldn’t allow me to settle in my seat. The doctors reckoned I’d sprained it falling out that upstairs window, but they couldn’t do anything for the cramping I kept feeling other than offer me a prescription, which had just been an over-the-counter pain relief.

Tough fucking luck, hey?

“Here.” George motioned to me. I watched him jump up from the seat he’d fallen into when we’d first boarded and then jerk his head down at it. 

I frowned slightly but stood carefully before rounding the tiny table which had separated us, observing closely as he rolled up his hoodie and bundled it against the car’s window. He ushered me in afterwards and I went, letting him take the seat beside me so that he could pull my legs up to lay across his lap.

“Better?” He questioned, a hand wrapped loosely around my ankle now.

I smiled and gifted him a grateful nod. It’d helped a ton actually.

“Good.” He replied, then pulled out a tiny notebook from the duffle he’d brought with him, “‘Cause now there’ll be no excuses when I beat you in hangman.”

I laughed at that. “Oh, you’re on.”

—

George’s quiet laughter only agitated me further as I mumbled to myself about ‘fucking trains’ and ‘toffy twats who didn’t know when to shut the fuck up’ as we manoeuvred our way through the hectic crowds of Kings Cross Station.

We’d spent the last half of our journey surrounded by a bunch of rowdy university lads, who were obviously on their way back home. But listen, because I’m the very last person to have a bitch and a moan about people just enjoying themselves or having fun- even when it inconvenienced me, yeah? But these fucking ignorant twats had really pushed my limit. 

I mean, who the fuck starts a loud debate over their fucking political crushes? And then go on to boast to one another about where they’d be spending their summers whilst simultaneously mocking anyone who holidayed in ‘the isles’ or didn’t at all. 

I’d sent a wide eyed glance at George when they’d first started up and my disbelieving frown had quickly grown into me just biting my tongue to keep from ripping them each a new one when they’d started snickering at the rest of us. At the tiny family down the far end of the car, with its single mother and her chocolate covered toddler who was sporting an upset frown. At the elderly bloke cooped up in the far corner, who kept nervously jumping whenever the train rattled too hard against the tracks. Even at George and I. Because of my fucked up face and George’s nonplussed reaction.

George’s calming hand had been the only thing to keep me stated. Otherwise they never would’ve made it to the station. 

Should count themselves lucky.

“Don’t laugh, George. I hate people like that.” I grunted out as I rubbed at my hip again, thankful that I hadn’t fought him when he’d taken my suitcase. “Looking down on others, acting like their shit don’t stink the same.”

George visibly fought not to snort outright at that and I huffed.

“Keep on, Daniel, and you’ll be hearing a lot worse.” I told him pointedly, but smiled politely at the ticket officer as we passed through the barriers.

“Don’t doubt it.” George replied, hiking his duffle up higher over his shoulder. “But B, you’ve got to learn not to let people like that affect you. Otherwise I’d be having to fight off every idiot that looked at you funny.”

“I can fight my own battles, thank you.” I retorted primly.

George huffed out a chuckle. “I know that much, but no one’s gonna hurt you again with me around.”

My gaze focused on the buzzing swarm ahead, at the giant boards hanging high above us, anything but him. “I thought we weren’t talking about it.” I murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and wincing when I forgot about the stitches in my shoulder.

I heard him sigh and said nothing more on the topic.

We’d just about made it to the taxi rank, where Aunt Del had said she’d be waiting for us yesterday, when George spoke up again. “I’m gonna grab some deodorant and shit from the pharmacy over there- forgot to pack it in with the rest. You want anything?”

I watched as he settled our bags down beside a bench and then jerk his head over towards a Boots nearby. I shrugged, “Maybe a drink. If you don’t mind?”

George flashed me a smile, waving off the second part of my comment. “Diet Coke, yeah?”

I nodded, flashing him an overdue smile, “You know me so well.”

He shook his head lightly, lips still upturned as he headed in the other direction. I sighed whilst slumping onto the bench.

I’d been in London five minutes and already I felt overwhelmed. The station was hectic, even on a Sunday! There were people everywhere, lights and signs adorned every possible space, and there was never a lulling moment of peace. Everyone was just go, go, go.

Saying that, it was possibly the best place I’d ever people watched. There were all sorts of personalities down here. I mean, it wasn’t everyday you spotted a 6ft woman with a mohawk the length of a tennis racket walking through the streets of Wilmslow. Or an old hippy dressed in a black bin bag, waving a guitar.

It was pretty incredible. And I took the time to search for all the anomalies littered amongst the suits and denim jeans, a game of Where's Wally?. I much preferred their eccentricity.

“Alright, they were out of the stuff I usually get so I got this instead, smelt nice enough though.” I glanced up at the sound of George’s voice and spotted him making his way back to me whilst peering down at the deodorant can he held in his hand. My drink was tucked up under his left arm and he had a carrier bag dangling from his wrist. “What d’you think?” He asked when he reached the bench, holding the can out towards me. I sniffed at the scent whilst he settled the drink he’d purchased beside me and quickly tucked the bag into his duffle. 

“I like it.” I told him honestly, glancing down at the label. “It’s different.”

“That good or bad?” He chuckled in reply and I smiled.

“Good. You’ll pull any one you fancy now that you’ve got something to cover that awful smell that often follows you about.”

His eyes wrinkled as he pulled a face in retaliation, “Hilarious, you. Why’d I ever let you talk me into coming again?”

I chuckled to myself, grinning up at him when he moved in closer to swipe the deodorant from my grasp. “‘Cause you’d be lost without me- dead bored too.”

He hummed, as though mulling it all over. Then leaned down towards me, nose almost touching mine as his face broke into a smile. “Sounds about right.”

I wanted to crane my neck up in that moment, let my lips brush against his. It was all I wanted in truth. But I didn’t dare. Too terrified of how he’d react. If every lie I’d heard ever told about me turned out to be true. If I was just as worthless as their words painted me to be.

“Yeah. It does, don’t it?”

George’s grin was large but still soft somehow, and his brown eyes danced between my own whilst the station continued to buzz around us. He hummed again, rocking on his feet, edging ever so closer.

Smash!

We both jolted apart at the sudden commotion, heads snapping up and over towards the loud bang. We both snorted at the same time, having spotted the culprit.

“They’re a fucking whole different breed down here.” George laughed lowly, shaking his head at a hefty looking pigeon that had seemingly taken the opportunity to try and nab a sandwich from out of an older woman’s hand- only it’d flown headfirst into a shop’s swinging sign.

I could only agree with his statement before I pivoted slightly, pausing only when I spotted another older woman waving her arms about wildly just outside the station doors. My jaw dropped for a second before I found myself chuckling at the sight, nudging George’s side to grab his attention too. He only raised his brows at the mad cow dressed in orange dungarees and a striped tee who was so obviously waving at us.

“I reckon everything down here’s different, G.” I snorted before I was waving back at my Aunt just as eagerly, already gathering up our stuff.

“No shit.” Is all I heard George say in return.

…

“Oh my Christ, ain’t you just grown so big!” Was the first thing Aunt Del said after she’d sprinted over to wrap me up in a long-overdue hug. “My, I swear you look like the double of me when I was your age.” She breathed out, her bright red lips matching her cherry coloured hair, gentle green eyes gazing down at me.

“Hi to you too, Aunt Del.” I chuckled, smiling back at her. She hadn’t changed at all from the day I remembered her, just as bubbly and as lovable as ever. 

“Oh psh, none of that hello nonsense!” She retorted, blowing out a willowy breath as she waved a hand between us both. “I’m too excited! Have been ever since your Nan mentioned the visit. I can’t believe how long it’s been, doll!”

“I know.” I said in quiet agreement, my hand finding hers just before I shuffled over to reveal the tall teenage boy stood not too far behind me. “Oh Aunt Del, this is my friend, George. G, this is my Auntie Delany.”

Aunt Del’s eyes brightened as she took in all George had to offer, grinning a wry little smile before she squeezed my hand tightly. “Your Nana mentioned you were bringing a friend…” She let slip and then nodded her head for George to come closer, “But she never said he’d be a looker. How’re you, love? The train treat you alright?”

I gave a silent snort at the wobbly expression George’s face pulled itself into when my aunt tugged him into a hug as well. He gifted me a bewildered glance from over her shoulder and I shrugged, attempting to bite back my mad smile. He knew it was there though, I could tell from the brief scowl he sent me before they were pulling apart.

“Tall, handsome… you smart as well, darlin’? Or are you only a pretty face?” Aunt Del pondered as she stepped back and tilted her head up at him.

“Del.” I warned, but George’s mouth just quirked upwards ever so slightly.

“Smart enough to know when to use the pretty face to my advantage.” He quipped back easily, and I was relieved to hear Del’s sweet laugh.

“Oh, I like this one, Y/n.” She whispered theatrically, glancing over her shoulder at me before another flood of people escaped the station and she started ushering us away. “Come on now, kiddos. Parked the car over here, din’t I?”

My forehead pinched in concern, “In a taxi rank?”

“Well, where else?” Del laughed, dragging my suitcase along ahead of us while George shot me another bewildered look.

I could only assume that we’d be loaded with a hefty fucking fine.

But before I could voice that, or at least allude to it, Aunt Del had already pulled out a chain of gangly keys on an old piece of string and wandered over to a pink coloured cab.

I blinked at the sight of it. Del caught the look because she was grinning over at me from where she’d just placed my suitcase in the boot. “Good old Hewson here always gets a few heads turning, don’t you, beaut?” Aunt Del said as she patted the cab’s side, I was still taking it all in.

“Sorry, Hewson?” I questioned as she motioned to George to throw his duffle in the back too, “You named your car Hewson?”

But before Aunt Del could answer me, George cut in. He had his thinking face on.

“Hewson as in Bono?” He wondered aloud and Del spun right around to grin at him, he shut the boot for her.

“Bingo. I knew I had a good feeling about you!” Aunt Del exclaimed with a finger extended towards the chuckling teenager. She turned back to me, shaking her head in mock disappointment, “I thought for sure you’d get it, dove.”

With a wry grin I could only shrug my shoulder at her, “Sorry to disappoint, Aunt Del, but G here is the music expert between us.”

Del’s smile only appeared to widen as she shot around to the drivers side door, “Well have I got a playlist in here for you then! Only the greats, mind. So you’d best have brushed up on your seventies trivia.”

George all but beamed as he followed her over and opened up the backdoor for me, very much in his element now. I slid into the cab first, smiling at the leopard print seats and sequinned roof, then G swiftly followed.

“Oh, a gentleman too, is he?” Aunt Del cooed from the front where a pair of fuzzy dice hung from the rearview mirror, her hands gripping at the neon coloured wheel. “You’ve hit the jackpot with this one.” She winked at me and I looked away to hide my flush. “So my Georgie-pie, you get on alright with The Jam?”

George’s hand found my knee as he leant forward in his seat to grin alongside my aunt, the pair of them chatting away whilst she jolted into reverse and out of the bay. I gripped at the door’s handle to keep from being thrown about when we took off down Pancras Road, Town Called Malice blasting out over the noise of the noisy city.

…

My cheeks had begun to hurt from how hard I’d been smiling throughout the entire ride down to the simple terraced house my grandparents owned in Bethnal Green. From what I could recall, it’d been the house my grandfather had grown up in, he’d only inherited it after the Second World War when his own mother had passed away from fever, his father having died earlier on whilst stationed at the frontline. He’d raised both of his kids there, my dad and Aunt Del, after his stoop in prison, before they’d both grown up and he’d eventually passed on as well. Leaving only my Nan and Delaney left.

It wasn’t a very busy street, all the houses old and built right beside the other, but it was nice, pretty even. A vast change in pace to the busy streets of the city we’d driven through on the way over.

Del was still talking a mile a minute when she pulled up into a marked bay, only narrowly avoiding hitting the curb whilst an old Grateful Dead tune continued to blare through the speakers. George hopped out first, slipping around to my side and opening the door for me so that he could help ease me out as well, his hand stayed in mine even as we moved to join Aunt Del by the boot.

“Here’re.” Del said, divvying up the luggage between George and herself. I sighed, but it fell into more of an unhappy groan when I reached up to shut the back door of the car only to have George beat me to it.

“I haven’t lost all capability.” I muttered to him whilst Aunt Del locked up the cab and took off down the pavement, excited to get us inside.

George’s fingers linked between mine and he tugged me closer, his duffle back on his shoulder. “I know that,” He murmured into my ear, breath tickling the skin of my neck, “But it makes me feel useful, yeah?”

I sighed again, only softer this time around, as I slumped into his embrace, letting him have this one thing. At least for a short while. I knew that soon enough it’d start to drive me mad.

“You two lovebirds comin’ or am I gonna have to stand here all day?” Del mocked from where she was now rocking back and forth at the top of a set of high steps, stood in front of an indistinct door.

I shot her a sharp look which she only grinned to, before George and I ascended the short staircase too. Del already had her gangly keys back out again and we watched on as she shoved a Yale cut key into the top lock, shouting out a warning as she tumbled on through it, “Mum, I’ve brought back Northerners!”

I giggled to myself as I followed in after her, eyes racking over everything that they possibly could. We’d entered into a long narrow hallway where an old cast iron radiator still stood atop a mosaic tiled floor. The walls here had been painted a softened white and victorian blue, the blue sat beneath a moulding halfway up and spilled out onto the staircase that’d been fitted with a warm beige runner. Photo frames littered the place, diving beneath a carved ceiling arch and around a few brass fixtures. It was beautiful, homey.

George shut the heavy wooden door quietly behind us and I heard a shuffle sound farther up ahead. Del gestured us further inside, dropping our luggage at the foot of the stairs before wandering down the walkway. We followed silently, both George and I feeling the nerves edge in now, and we were quite surprised to shuffle into an open kitchen and spot a petite looking woman relaxed in an dining chair, cigarette in one hand and a TV Times in the other. She glanced up once we’d entered and the sight of her had my heart climbing to my throat, her toothy smile reminded me a lot of the pictures I'd seen of my dad.

“Well, ain’t this lovely?” My Nana chirped, already moving to stub out the remnants of her fag in a glass ashtray before standing. George released my hand so I could go meet her, legs trembling slightly. “My little dove, how you’ve grown, hey? All big now. Too tall.” She grinned at me as I dipped down a tad to bury my face into her neck.

“Hey, Nana.” I whispered, my smile shaky as she ran a soothing hand over the length of my back.

When she pulled away she pressed a thin, ring clad hand to my cheek, eyes taking me in. “You’re alright, darlin’. Looking so beautiful too. Oh, how I’ve missed ya.”

I chuckled wetly, but didn’t let the shimmering tears that’d begun to well fall, “Missed you too.” More than she knew. “It feels so mad to be here, I remember bits and pieces but not much.”

“Ah the last time you were ‘ere, ought to’ve been when you were about six. You made a right old mess of this kitchen. Treckin’ in mud and kickin’ your feet. My God, your dad had gone mad- couldnt help his grin though when you’d started singin’ that tune he so loved. What was it again, my darlin’?”

“You Make My Pants Want to Get Up and Dance.” I answered her in a whispered chuckle, the song a vivid reminder of days we’d spent dancing around this very room.

Nana released a sweet laugh and turned to Del, “You remember, don’t you, Del? The pair of ‘em, prattling about the place.”

Aunt Del shared a conspiratorial grin with me, nodding from where she’d taken perch over by the fridge. “Oh yeah. That one Christmas mornin’, it was all that’d been on. Drove me bloody mental.”

“See?” Nana enforced, hand falling to my upper arm, “What I tell ya? Might be gettin’ on a bit but my mind’s still as quick as a whip.”

I smiled, but that was when she finally took note of the giant stood crowding her kitchen doorway. George wore a soft smile that only grew in nervousness when my nan’s gaze sought him out. “And this must be the famous friend!” She teased, already motioning him over. “Come on, love. I don’t bite.”

George blew out a small chuckle and walked over to join us, surprising me when he leaned down to wrap an arm around the petite woman. My Nana smiled proudly and gently squeezed George’s wrist when they pulled apart.

“It’s good to finally meet you.” George assured her, his tone quiet, warm.

“And you, sweetheart.” My Nana spoke, smiling up at him. “But my, ain’t you tall? Remind me a bit of my Charlie, you do. He was a giant too, always dwarfed me in size whenever he took my hand. Only ever saw his tie when we was dancin’, and din’t he just love to complain of a sore neck, bendin’ down to greet me whenever he came home from wherever he’d been.”

I giggled quietly to myself, watching the pair. Enamoured.

“Got those eyes of his too, kind but quick. Too smart for yer own good, ain’t ya sometimes? Trouble finds you.”

George’s eyes glanced over towards me at that and he could only agree. “She does.”

Both my Nana and Aunt Del laughed at that, catching on to his sentiment whilst I just tutted and shook my head. “You’re lucky to have me.”

“Ain’t he just.” Nana confirmed with a dip of her chin, her blue eyes twinkling now beneath the kitchen light. “A right pair you make. Reckon we’ll have a few more stories to tell once you leave.”

“You’ve gone and jinxed it now.” George chuckled teasingly, obviously settling in fine, “Only got yourself to blame.”

Nana clucked her tongue, eyes on Del whilst she motioned her head in G’s direction, “Funny, this one. You hearin’ this too, Del? Quite the joker we have.”

I could only grin and watch on as my seventy-three year old nan cajoled George into the chair beside hers. It quickly fell though when I heard how she was planning to spill a few stories from my childhood to him. And I couldn’t even stop her because Aunt Del was already dragging me back out of the kitchen, claiming she needed help picking up dinner from the local takeaway. George merely sent me a reassuring grin when I’d casted an alarmed glance back over my shoulder, and I felt the anxiety in me fall away. 

—

It was a long while after dinner when George and I finally got the first bit of quiet since having left Manchester.

The four of us, being Nana, George, Aunt Del and I, had all camped out in the living-room shortly after Del and I had returned to the house with a couple bags of food- fish and chips actually, from this tiny little shop up on the main road that Del had raved about. 

We’d all been more than hungry so we’d been quick settle down. The tele had been stuck straight on, the very same that’d been there a decade prior, and apparently Nana’s preference for game shows hadn’t changed either, so we’d all spaced out around it, not paying much attention to who was winning or losing. Just talking about the things you did with family.

Nana’s dog, Cyril, had plodded in from the upstairs landing as soon as he’d sniffed out the food. He was this big slobbering beast of a thing that I immediately fell in love with. A great bullmastiff with a red and fawn-coloured coat, who’d gone and plopped himself down on the tops of my feet. George had been taken with him too, cooing to him in the armchair opposite and pouting when the dog hardly spared him a glance. Both Nana and Del had chuckled, Aunt Del saying, “Cyril ain’t too fond of men- din’t give dad the time of day when he was home either. Only ever noticed him when he had a lead in his hand.” George had looked determined though. 

When the plates had been cleared away, Cyril jumped up on the sofa between Nana and I, he’d sniffed at her leg before she’d shooed him off down my end, and he did as he was told, looking over at me with these big puppy-dog eyes. I’d let him curl up beside me, head in my lap, stroking the scruff of his neck as we continued to catch up, Nana asking after George and his life. She was set on getting to know him.

A couple hours had passed before the older woman had shuffled the pair of us on up the staircase when I’d started yawning though, and Aunt Del said that she’d let Cyril out into the garden before she took off home herself, promising to pop back round the very next day. George had helped tidy the living-room away as I’d said my goodbyes to her, catching Nana in the hallway once the door had closed.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but thank you.” I’d whispered to her in the quiet warmth of the evening light that’d fluttered in. She’d simply taken my hand and gifted me a soft smile in turn.

“You were always welcome here, sweetheart. Just needed you to see it.” Nana had replied, “And anyway, I should be the one thankin’ you. Ain’t had such a lovely time since it was all of us living here together. Feels nice havin’ the house full of people again. And that lad of yours is a real charmer, in’t he? Lovely, lovely boy.”

I’d gone to correct her, mouth halfway agape when she’d just chuckled and pointed a finger up at me. “None of that now. Only known him a couple of hours but I see the way he looks at you, my love.”

It was eerily similar to what Ross had said to me all those weeks before.

“He’s patient too. Bit like your grandfather there. And gentle, which is somethin’ that’s obviously needed when knockin’ about with you. ’Cause don’t think for one second I’ve not noticed the big black eye you’re sporting under that makeup of yours, or the face you pull each time you sit or stand up.”

I’d looked away from her aged eyes, so full of emotion, to hide my guilt. Nana had only grasped my chin though and steered my face back towards her, “But that’s for another time, alright darlin’? You need sleep- must’ve been mental bein’ on all those silly trains. I’ll tell you something now, I never could step on another after the war’d ended, too many reminders, you know?”

Too many reminders. Yeah, that was something I did know. 

I’d only nodded silently at her though and the pair of us listened to the quiet murmur George had made when he’d tried once more to make friends with Cyril. Nana had chuckled and squeezed my chin between her fingers before George had stepped out into the hallway to join us, a little surprised to find us there. An apology had been on the tip of his tongue, obviously not having meant to interrupt, but Nana had swiftly cut him off, stating that she’d already made up the spare bed and laid out a few towels for us.

I’d given her cheek a gentle kiss in an unsaid thanks, still so beyond grateful, and George had followed, smiling to himself when he’d bent down for her and the older woman had whispered something in his ear. She’d shooed us on up after quickly after, patting George’s back just as Cyril trotted to stand beside her at the bottom of the stairs. Our light footsteps had trailed all the way up and then across the landing. 

So as I’d been saying, the quiet that’d settled upstairs in the far bedroom was something of a reprieve. As much as I’d loved spending time with Nana, Aunt Del, and Cyril too, it was nice to shut the door on all the noise and madness and take a second to just breathe.

The spare bedroom sat at the very front of the house, it looked out onto the street below and homed sash-windows which were currently being illuminated by the evening sun shining through. The floor was made of hardwood, glossy and dark in comparison to the lighter walls that had been panelled with pretty mouldings. A fireplace sat at one end too, directly opposite the bed, it was old, one I’d have to ask Nana about using, but had a delicate vase of lilies sat atop it as well as a brass framed mirror.

My eyes flittered about the space, taking in the ancient radio on the windowsill with its lengthy aerial, the large chest sat at the foot of the bed, as well as the wearing guitar propped up against the wall in the corner. George’s eye caught on that too and he wandered over to it first.

“Belonged to my dad.” I told him as I tiptoed over to the edge of the bed, taking a seat there as my gaze continued to roam. “It was his room, shared it with Del when they were kids but then she took over the downstairs den when she’d hit fourteen. Den’s gone now, think they knocked it through to make more room for the kitchen’s renovation after she moved out.”

George hummed and put the instrument back in its place before spinning on his heel, his gaze trailing between me and the bed. 

“You still alright to share?” I asked him, wondering if perhaps he was thinking better of it now. “I could set up the sofa if not.”

Shaking his head, George must’ve shaken off whatever other emotion that’d made him pause because he padded over to join me. “Nah, it’ll be fine.”

His voice was low and as he flopped down onto the mattress beside me I could only smile, thankful for the fact that he hadn’t changed his mind.

“Good.” I responded, grinning over at his slumped form sprawled out on the crisp white sheets, “‘Cause if you can spoon with Matty then you should be alright spending a couple nights shacked up with me.”

George snorted, hands resting on his chest, eyes turned towards the ceiling. “That’s different. We fell asleep on the settee, and he’s a cuddler.”

Still amused by the picture my mind conjured up, I hummed. “And to think you two once hated each other.”

“Wouldn’t say hate. Bit strong there, B.”

I rolled my eyes before glancing down at the spot beside him, silently deliberating. George must’ve noticed because he took my hand in his and tugged me down, laughing when I yelped in surprise.

We stayed there for a short while in silence, his fingers grazing gently at my arm, both of us listening to the heavy paws of Cyril on the stairs and the cars that passed by outside.

He inhaled a little deeper, “How you feeling then?”

I turned my head against the sheets to peer up at him. “Being here?” I questioned him and he nodded, “I feel good. Tired, but good. Happy. Didn’t realise home could feel like this, you know?”

George blew out a breath and scooted a little closer, close enough to drape an arm across the space above my head and come to rest on his side. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

I knew what he meant. He wanted to talk about that night.

I raised my good shoulder in a shrug. “Not much to say. I hope he rots in a cell for a bit though, ‘cause we both know they’ll let him back out soon enough.”

George’s jaw tightened at my words but his eyes stayed soft, locked on me. “Well I hope he finds a decent cliff and takes a dive off it.”

I shot him a look. “G..”

He shrugged, uncaring, but the gentle touch of his fingers tangling themselves into my hair was anything but. “Ain’t gonna lie to you, Birdie. He deserves worse. I-” His eyes slipped closed as he took a breath to calm himself, “Look, I can’t take back what happened. Turn back time and all that just to erase it all. But I can make sure that it never happens again.”

“You can’t be sure though, George. That’s not how life works.” I murmured into the quiet that followed his solemn assurance.

“Well it’s how it’s gonna have to work.” Was all that he replied to me. Ever so stubborn.

His eyes were still closed, that familiar warmth of his sheltered behind fluttering lids, I reached out to trail my fingers across them and then down the bridge of his nose. “This okay?”

He hummed sweetly, mouth twitching when my fingertips traced its curve. He was always so close, only ever a breath away, but even now it felt like we were toeing at invisible lines, both of us too afraid to make that jump.

“I like your nan.” He told me then and I huffed out a small chuckle at the unexpected revelation. “Del too.” He added.

“I’m glad.” I replied with a soft smile of my own, staring down at him even as he blinked his eyes back open. They roamed the entirety of my face, taking in every detail.

“They remind me of you.”

My smile broadened, pleased to hear that. “Oh yeah?”

George hummed a low confirmation. “You want to know what your Nana to me said as we were headin’ up?”

My eyes flickered up to meet his whilst I trailed over a constellation of freckles on his cheek. “What?”

He chuckled deeply, grin wrinkling his nose. “She said, run her a bath, will you? And keep the noise down if you ever do get the balls to make a move.”

A sharp laugh escaped me, eyes wide and alive. “I swear, she’s an actual menace.”

George smirked lazily, “Right though.”

I blinked, all humour suddenly lost as I stared back at him. 

“Right about what?” I asked him quietly, heart in my throat.

His hand stilled in my hair and he knocked his forehead against my own, our noses brushed just above the sheets and he gifted me the sweetest smile. “This.” He whispered back, right before he titled his head and grazed his lips against mine.

—

I’d been on a high all morning. Having woken up in George’s arms under a stream of sunlight.

There’d been a light scuffle out in the hallway, probably Nana getting up to let Cyril out, and I’d laid there listening to the gentle song of the birds outside as well as George’s quiet breathing. He looked different in this light, lashes casting dark shadows across his apples of his cheeks and lips poutier than I’d ever seen them. It’d been struggle not to reach out.

Instead, I’d reluctantly slipped from his grasp when the urge to use the loo became too much to bare and decided to finally have that bath Nana had suggested last night whilst I waited for him to wake. 

Yesterday had honestly been everything I’d been waiting for. With George I just felt so safe, so… loved. Was that a strange way to feel? Maybe it was. But I didn’t care, I thought about it though as I let the steam from the water engulf me, the heat of it doing wonders for my aching bones.

We hadn’t gone any further than kissing. Though if he had tried to cop a feel I wouldn’t of denied him. He was rather sweet about the whole thing actually and we’d spent the time afterwards shooting each other coy smiles as we got ready for bed.

I pulled myself up out of the tub once my hands had begun to wrinkle, hating the feel of it. I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and combed through my hair once my feet had dampened the bath mat, but groaned when I realised I’d forgotten to grab some clothes beforehand.

Wiggling my jaw as I clasped my bottom lip between my forefinger and thumb, I contemplated just heading back out into the bedroom. George was probably still asleep and I could simply roll my suitcase back in here without waking him.

Yeah, that sounded like the best option.

So I took a deep breath as I silently slipped out of the bathroom and across the landing into the shared room. I was in for the shock of my life though when I spotted George sat up in bed, duvet pooled around his hips as he rubbed tiredly at his eye. His head turned towards me when he heard the handle lift and he stilled in his movements. 

I must’ve looked a right picture, frozen in the doorway with my gob halfway to the floor, and I watched a slow but obvious smirk creep across George’s features as he dropped his arm to get a good old look at me.

I narrowed my eyes in retort and feigned as much confidence as I possibly could with his eyes stuck on me, before I made my way over to where my suitcase was sat. “It’s rude to stare, you know.”

George laughed, it was a gruff and low sound, littered with sleep. “Just wonderin’ if I’m still dreamin’- nice sight to wake up to ’s all.”

I scoffed out a quiet, disbelieving chuckle, “Oh yeah, black eyes get you going, do they?”

“On you? Anything would.”

I flushed at his comment and dropped down to hide it as I worked my way through the pile of clothes I had in my case, gripping the top of my towel.

“Who are you and what have you done with George?” I tossed the question over my shoulder, still feeling his eyes on me. “‘Cause the real George would never act this shameless.”

I could feel his shrug ripple throughout the room. “Teenage boy. Besides, you know I’m the real deal ‘cause when have I ever lied to you?”

My tongue was in my cheek as I shifted through a few tops, he wasn’t wrong there. “I just forgot to grab some clothes before I jumped in the bath. Thought you’d still be asleep.”

“Woke up just before you came in.”

I hummed. Talk about timing. 

“You sleep alright?” He asked and I could hear him shuffling about now behind me. I wanted to take a peek, see what he was up to, but focused on grabbing what I needed instead.

What had he asked again? Oh, “Um, yeah actually.” Best one I’d had in weeks, if we were being painfully honest. “You?”

“Knackered after that journey yesterday but I stayed up a bit after you passed out.” George replied and I jumped ever so slightly when I felt him drape his arms over my shoulders, chin resting against the side of my head. “You look angelic even when you snore.”

I elbowed him lightly and shook my head. “I don’t snore, you knob.”

“Oh but you do.” George chuckled roughly, “Sounds a bit like this.”

He then proceeded to make horrible snoring sounds in my ear, making me cringe and forcing me to wiggle out of his grasp to escape them. “Ah don’t do that! It makes me feel all bleh.” I shivered to exaggerate the feeling whilst he simply laughed.

“What?” He exclaimed teasingly, “That’s what I had to deal with, all night!”

I chucked the top I’d been holding at him. “Idiot. And to think I let you kiss me.”

A beat passed between us and I feared I’d fucked things by bringing it up. I casted a nervous glance at him when I went to try and retrieve a hoodie or something like it.

“Surprised you broke first. Was betting that I’d have to.” George told me, wearing a lopsided grin, he walked over to the duffle that was laid open by the dresser and grabbed at a grey sweatshirt. “Here’re have this.”

I glanced down at it, then back up at his face. I took it carefully, “Thanks.”

He hummed and moved back towards the duffle to find some clothes of his own to wear.

I was then reminded of what he’d just said, “Hang on, you made a bet with yourself?”

George shot me a toothy grin, “‘You don’t do that?”

I shrugged, unsure. Hadn’t really thought about it. “So, we’re still okay then? You know-”

“After you kissed me?” He teased and I scowled.

“After you kissed me, you mean.”

“Whatever you say, Birdie. But I ‘spose we’ll never truly know.” He was being a twat.

“You’re being a twat.” I told him rightly, but unable to help my light chuckle, “You know you kissed me first.”

He hummed, unconvinced.

“G!” I complained but he merely laughed before waving me off.

“Go get changed, will you?”

“Why?” I challenged him, a bundle of clothes tucked up under my arm. “I’m rather alright as I am, thanks.”

“‘Cause you’re driving me half mad stood there like that.” He quipped back with a hand extended out towards me, “Besides, your nan will come looking if neither one of us turns up to breakfast.”

I grinned, “Reckon I’m that easy do you, Georgie?”

He paused and stopped his riffling to meet my gaze head-on. “No, I just know that if you’d let me I’d spend as long as I could admiring every part of you.”

Pursing my lips to fight my smile, I said, “Nana was right about another thing.”

George titled his head at me, sporting a pleased grin. “And what would that be?”

“You, George Daniel, are a right charmer.”

He snorted with a roll of his eyes then turned back to his duffle. “You love it.” He snarked back, sounding sure.

And he had every right to be, because that was one of the many things I loved about him.

Part Twenty-five>

[aheathen-conceivably]

Hi! I’m a huge fan of your work (Josephine, in particular, has my heart! Gio, I tolerate… sorry 🫣), so, firstly, thank you for sharing your lovely creative mind with us.

Second, I hope it’s okay to ask a question! There’s a specific story idea that’s been rattling around in my head for ages now, but try as I might, I can’t seem to make it into anything concrete. I have a few things down (mostly snatches of dialogue, basic facts like character names, and start/end points - i.e. “z and a start as enemies but eventually fall in love”) but I’m struggling to connect point a with point b and actually make it, yknow, a story. Do you have any sage advice/pro tips/divinely-inspired guidance for making a handful of loose ends into something real and fit for Tumblr consumption? Lol.

Thank you in advance!

Hello, there! First and foremost let me apologize for some particular writer out there (ahem, it is me) who may have just gotten herself out of a real bad slump by making Gio a main character 😂

I am SORRY y’all I wasn’t supposed to like him this much I was a Jo girlie forever but now, well, the heart wants what the heart wants. Make no mistake Jo still has my heart but…can’t a girl have both? Y’all out here taking sides already oh my goodness I can’t wait to see y’all for the rest of this decade 😜

Now WHEW! Let me also say I appreciate your kindness about the story. I wish I had more advice for you, but I’m afraid I fell into this without much creative or really any writing background at all, so I’m not sure I’m the source for sage advice. Other than going on my resource page for other tricks that might be helpful, what I will tell you is to write every damn thing down. Like I mean it, one line of dialogue, one idea, one thought. I have stuff everywhere, under to do lists, in massive documents, in scribbles on the back of bills. Eventually I do try and organize it (and this would probably be the time to tell you to maybe not put it in random places where it’s hard to find later 😅), but I’m often shocked at what a small little tidbit later turns into.

As far as connecting those tidbits (which bravo for having them, that’s already more than I did for some parts of the story!), I honestly just feel like the more you write and inhabit the mindset of your little world, the more it comes to you when you aren’t thinking about it. Thanks to my boy Gio (please see above oops) I have been writing nonstop. Chopping onions, folding clothes, driving, just trying to live my life and a scene is playing out in my head. Now mind you, this comes after over a month without a single thought of the story, so it is a process that waxes and wanes.

I would also say not to get frustrated with yourself too early, as again, I think the process of getting into your story is a snowball effect. My early decades had much less going on, and that’s very much for a reason. The process moves with you. That means that I don’t really think there’s a benchmark for “fit for Tumblr consumption.” Doing it is practicing it, and the community is very welcoming to changing style and voice as your work goes on.

Just write my Nonny friend, write whenever your brain tells you to and don’t be afraid to share. And then fall in love with Gio with me 😙

[ichtios]

20.10.2023

guys I made very hard decision and closed almost all of my market transaction except one. It means loosing tons of money and it is hard to accept it, but it was taking my life away from me, as I was always stressing about it and loosing eating and sleeping. I left one transaction that is suppose to go up next week when google, meta, and something else will publish quarter earning reports. Also it is so low now that it shouldn’t go much lower, rather only up. I left it so I can restore some more money and give it back to my mom. I borrowed lots of money from her in hope of rescuing my funds (I had enough of my own money but it wasn’t immediately available because it is on some funds etc). But I just don’t want to fight anymore. I want to live normally. I talked about it on therapy yeasterday and I felt convinced.

i was never interested in investing in the market. This company called me hundred times and I finally broke, you know, ok I will see how it works, just leave me alone. I had money that I received after my dad died. It was so much that after I bought some stuff for home, I had no need for the rest of them so I thought it might be not so bad idea to invest it. You know, my intentions were good, I like to help people, I thought when I have more money I will be able to do more good. Sounds reasonable. BOY WAS I WRONG. Of course at the beginning everything went great. Then, first mistakes, and problems, also bad advice from that company advisor, and I was spiraling down for almost a year. The truth is that I was mostly deceived and manipulated by this investment company. I can’t really blame myself for all of it. I experienced so much stress and trauma during that year because of it that it is unbelievable. I want it to be over whatever it costs me.

i’m planning to close that last transaction next week when it reaches the level that I hope for. It is realistic goal. I think so. I hope it is a good decision. I was neglecting everything. I want to stop staring at charts and numbers all the time and get back to real work. Thank God all that I do as my job, are good things that bring joy and are helping people. I’m so glad for it now. If I worked in a company that is casually making people loose their money I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the eyes. I really appreciate my work now even if it doesn’t bring me huge wealth. I realize now how much more important is what you do than what you have on your account.

It’s ok, I still have enough money that in case, lets say, I need to replace my car, I will be able to do it. I also earn a good money and I’m self employed. I don’t have to worry that I don’t have a money for living. It is more of a psychological effect. I need to process it. It is not easy. But I think it will be easier to get over that loss than live in constant stress and tension night and day. Writing about it here is a part of processing for me. i will update next week when it is - lets really root for it - finally over. Also it would be nice if Euro go up a little bit, as it is very low now - I would also get some more money when changing to Polish Zloty.

[asteria7fics]

Could you share some EWILY Cartman headcanons with the class? 👀

HAPPILY!! ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

My usual housekeeping: There WILL be spoilers for EWILY through chapter 11. If you haven’t caught up yet, then go read that first! (It’s a lot I’m so sorry)

Also, I’m going to include a few NSFW headcanons here… because I want to. They will be clearly marked though!

Without further ado, some of my Cartman headcanons!

Alright, first and foremost let’s get some of the basics out of the way. When I set out to write EWILY, I had a really specific image of what I wanted Eric to be like. He was actually the first character design I started drafting… while waiting at the hospital for my niece to be born ahaha.

Like, he had to be a bit of a neckbeard, Discord Mod loser. I’m sorry, I simply cannot imagine teenage dirtbag Eric being any other way.

So obviously I've posted the actual illustrations of all the boys, but Eric's appearance was one I was actually pretty nervous about. I don't see a ton of depictions of him having the longest hair, or being a bit scruffy looking in general. Though I agree that he probably does actually have decent hygiene habits typically, he's... Going through it in EWILY.

I also couldn’t imagine him being popular, because despite him honestly being pretty charismatic he’s still a despicable asshole and everyone in town is so used to his bullshit by this point that they’ve all but given up any hope that he’ll ever improve as a human being. His charms have become obvious manipulation by the time EWILY begins.

There is an actual story behind why the main 5 are no longer cool with him (for the most part), as is briefly referenced in chapter 7 before all hell broke loose, but that’s a story for another day.

Unfortunately, I also felt that Eric had to be smart. Is he taking all the same classes as Kyle just to fucking harass him? A little bit, though he would say it’s to ‘keep an eye on that conniving Jew’, but I think it’s pretty clear that he is actually a pretty smart and creative kid, he just doesn’t typically apply himself. Without friends to get into trouble with though, what else is he supposed to do?

I should also probably address the… antisemitism. I mean, it’s literally canon, as is him being a racist piece of shit, among other things. Look, I think there’s a time and a place to sanitize Eric’s character at least a little bit, but doing too much loses a quintessential piece of what makes him tick. I’m not gonna go into what makes people embrace bigotry, but suffice to say I personally believe a lot of his comes from ignorance and fear, especially the latter as he gets older.

On the flip side of that, I thought it would be super funny to give Eric a major fetish for Asian women! Partially inspired by my own love of k-pop, and partially from some comments Trey has made about his own… preferences, at least ones he had when he was younger. I actually pull a lot of inspiration for all of the boys from Those Bastards, despite my better judgement. It does have the nice effect of making them feel more real, though!

It also gave me the opportunity to make a very funny joke about his favorite member of a particular k-pop girl group, who has been majorly blasted online for wearing a shirt with a swastika on it… look, I saw my opportunity and I took it. The kids who got it, got it lmao.

I suppose this is a good opportunity to transition into some NSFW headcanons. This is your warning! I’ll mark the end of the NSFW stuff so you can skip it if you’d prefer!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite being pretty outwardly homophobic towards his friends, Eric is not straight lmao. He sure wants to THINK he is, but he’s bisexual at LEAST with a slightly stronger leaning towards women.

Initially, Eric is very confident that he needs to be the dominant one in the relationship. He would prefer women that seem submissive (hence the super racist Asian fetish, oof king just cannot be normal) and can be pretty easily manipulated, which is! Objectively gross! Bad Eric!!

Being one of the most sexual kids in the show (yes I do have a mental ranking), my brother is fucking nasty. Definitely was the one that got Stan mildly addicted to porn for a hot minute there (a headcanon I never explore but definitely need to), has a massive and extensive collection of pornography on his computer, on top of frequenting OnlyFans.

Eventually though, when he finally gets to actually feel the touch of another human being he gets over that need to be on top, literally and metaphorically. He relinquishes control VERY slowly, but eventually with a LOT of trust lets his partner have more power in the bedroom.

Also, his gf eventually definitely pegs him. Try and tell me I’m wrong. Do they get even nastier? Absolutely, but I’ll leave the rest up to your imagination. (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ANYWAY! Back to the normal stuff. (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Speaking of his girlfriend, I know it's not popular but I adore loverboy Eric. The idea of him fighting so hard to be a good person just to maintain an important relationship is *chef's kiss*

Now I won't formally diagnose Eric with anything, but he definitely has some... Antisocial tendencies. We see him visit a therapist a couple of times in canon, and I think he would keep that up until about the time his friends ditch him. Entering his social recluse era oof. He definitely stops seeing the point in improving himself when people are going to abandon him anyway.

So of course, he's still not a very good partner. I would get into his relationship with Yen more but, like with all the relationships in EWILY it's... Complicated.

Alright, I’m gonna do some quick-fire headcanons to get the rest of my thoughts out ahaha

Is the shortest of the main 5 - yes, even shorter than Kenny, but only by a couple of inches. This wasn’t always the case though, and was actually the tallest when they were kids. (TSOB era)

He and Butters have the smallest wieners. RIP sorry loser it’s canon.

Never really got over his little crush on Wendy. Funny how he’s still into girls with dark hair… (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

Desperately wants another cat, but Liane has really only put her foot down about this one thing after what happened to Mr. Kitty. Sorry, I had to remind you.

Definitely still packs heat, but doesn’t get away with bringing it to school.

Hardcore schemer still and does all kinds of questionable shit to make money. You know, instead of just getting a normal job.

Wears those super long cargo shorts year-round. Claims he ‘doesn’t feel cold’ but definitely does.

Met Yen in a random Discord server, one he became pretty popular in. Still has lots of online friends that only really know the persona he puts on for them.

Man, what else is there...

I suppose this is a good place to drop some of the other things I've put together for him! You can look at his Pinterest board here, and his Spotify playlist here!

Okay, I seriously need to stop you guys, but I could talk about Cartman all day. Literally my son oh my god he’s so silly!!! I hope this was a sufficient answer for you, dear anon! I’m always happy to share my thoughts and feelings about these dudes!!

Thank you for the ask!! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[aswho1estuff]

Thee other women

Babe ….? Pt .1

Plot: May had life all planned out she was successful, comfortable, and about to get married to the man of her dreams until she answers his phone. Out of all things she never expected another woman and she certainly never expected to meet jungwoo through it.

Babe.. pt 1 overview: may gets a text message from the contact name babe via her supposed fiancé’s phone.

I toss my purse on the chair free falling into the couch who would have thought it would be so hard for a wedding planner to plan their own wedding. ‘Buzz’ I look over my shoulder and of course he left his phone I reach for it a message notification pops up from ….babe?.

[alright see you then] I text back quickly without even thinking and let out a harsh breath “ who the fuck is this” calm down may it’s gotta be an explanation and if it isn’t “hells gonna break loose” I quietly announce laying back down with the phone on my chest I blink a couple of time to register looking down at the phone..isn’t this his work phone why would he go on a work trip without it.

The next day

I woke at the crack of dawn like i wanted the rooster’s job and after doing the necessities there was nothing left but what I was dreading, to get ready to meet “babe” who ever she was. I rummage through my closet agitated fuck there isn’t anything good in here I kick my foot knocking over a box a red shirt spills out. I pick it up examining it dang this was my favorite shirt before it was ruined for me I stuff it in my arm determined to wear it now and with the other pick up some black pants laying them on the same arm and gather my boots.

“I need to get out just open the door and go and walk, yes” I say as I grip the steering wheel this is a train wreck oh my gosh and he’s cheating on me and this shirt this shirt I shouldn’t have worn it I pull at it “gosh” I inhale deeply pushing out the car fast walking I open the mall doors pull out his phone and move towards a bench.

Now or never I guess as I make my way towards footlocker closing my eyes and pushing the door I scan the room fuck which one is she great work may.

I roll my eyes opening my purse and before I could pull my phone out a male comes up to me. “Hello ?” he says like he’s questioning it with his hand out “hello” looking around again I breath through my nose and shake his hand, he’s definitely a looker a boy I’d like back in my high school days the ones they warn you about.

Tilting my head i raise my eyebrow “oh..he must have sent you instead, right James you’re his assistant” He finally says I grow tense it’s all happening too fast “actually no I’m not I’m suppose to be his fiancée… and you must be babe huh” I say whipping the phone out to show the messages “…his fiancée?” He replied seemingly shocked “ yep and you’re babe now that we’re all caught up I’ll be taking my leave” I say flatly walking away “ wait .. I wasn’t with him or anything I was meeting to tell him off really actually” i purse my lips together “ well great guess we’re twinning now cause I’ll be telling him off too” I reply without turning back.

Pushing through the double door of the mall i speed walk fishing for my keys. Getting in the car I sit closing the door tightly and lay back shutting my eyes, what am I gonna do.

Masterlist

…Fiancée ? Pt 2 ->

[i-have-a-sideblog-problem]

A Petty Night of Dnd

This idea popped into my head after reading some Obey Me D&D headcanons. This is extremely self-indulgent (this wasn't even supposed to be a story). Mc is gender neutral and is referred to using just "you" and "yours".

Summary: The events of Lesson 16 have long passed, and Mc and the boys have had serval long emotional chats about the events that happened. Apologies have been given, and Mc has had time to heal. But that doesn't mean Mc can't mess with the boys about what happened. With the help of Simon, Mc is going to make a game session the boys won't forget.

Content Warnings: Violence, Blood, Role play character death, A little bit of angst (I think)

Word Count: 1412

------------- <3.<3.<3.<3.<3. ------------- <3.<3.<3.<3.<3. -------------

Mc and all the brothers are playing D&D together with Simon as the DM. The campaign is a standard medieval setting, homebrewed by Simon.

Starting off, the game is a bit chaotic. Half the brothers are dicking around (Asmo, Mammon, Belphie), while Lucifer and Beel are still trying to get the concept of role-playing. Eventually, everyone really gets into the game. You all are working as a team, beating quests, "figuring" out puzzles, and hitting heartfelt story beats/ character backgrounds. Diavolo, Barbados, Solomon, and even Luke occasionally come and watch everyone play, much to Lucifer's annoyance.

Another game night rolls around, and at this point, you and the brother had gotten a decent way through the story's plot. Tonight Diavolo and Barbados are watching everyone play, though at the moment they're only half paying attention since everyone just finished a battle with the Big Bad's second in command. Simon was currently narrating Mc and the brothers heading back to their camp and getting ready for a long rest. Everyone is in high spirits after a successful battle.

After Simon is done setting the scene, he turns to you, "Mc, everyone is asleep what would your character like to do?"

No one pays any mind to you and Simon, they have all had their characters do stuff at night before, be it spell prepping, or in Mammon's case failing at robbing others.

You flip through your character sheet, "I'd like to cast silence on everyone but Beel's and Belphie's characters."

Levi stops adjusting his character sheet and looks at you confused, "I thought you were out of spell slot?"

You shrug, "I miss counted. Now Simon who's closest to my character?"

Simon gestures to each demon as he speaks, "I believe the two closest to you are Lucifer's and Mammon's character, then it's Satan, Asmo, and Levi. Beel and Belphie are outside the sphere next to each other."

"Awesome, I'm going to use the hide action." Mc succeeds with the stealth roll, and Simon grants you advantage on your next roll. Half the table groans waiting for you to steal from them.

Lucifer crosses his arms over his chest, "I expect this from Mammon about you too, Mc."

You ignore him with a smile and take out far too many dice you would need to pickpocket someone. You wanted to make a show of what you had planned next. You rolled your dice in pairs each one hitting the numbers you needed to, gambling with Mammon was coming in handy right now.

"And did I hit, Simon?" You know the answer, but you were feeling smug.

Simon stared at your rolls with wide eyes, "Oh my. Yes, you did for... Wow, everyone. You can go ahead and roll damage."

Everyone's jaw dropped at Simon's words. Mammon was the first to speak up, "Damage! Oi whatta think ya doin'!"

You wave off Mammon and continue your plan, "I'm going to attack with the magic short sword I got and do a fatal strike on everyone but Beel and Belphie's character. Also for these attacks, I'll take the damage penalty that lets me make everyone skip the CON save." All hell breaks loose at your words. The brothers are cursing and screaming about how could you do this and how that's not fair, but Simon allows it as the DM.

"This is bullshit!" Satan rips his character sheet in half, fuming across the table from you, now he knows why you didn't sit next to him today.

Amso whines, a full pout on his face, "I liked my character, Mc! How could you!"

You give him a quick apologetic smile and pat him on the shoulder before turning back to Simon, "I'd like to dispel silence, and move to attack Beel's character." Beel was already looking sad, but now he looked like a kicked hell pup.

Simon nodded, "Roll to hit."

Luck had been on your side so far tonight and you only needed a little more to complete the plan you've been wanting to do for so long. Belphie looks directly across the table at you. Normally after a big battle, he'd doze off only waking up if Beel shook him and told him that he had to take a turn. But now he was wide awake; confused and curious about what your twisted game was.

You held eye contact with Belphie as you clutched the dice tightly in the palm of your hand. In one swift motion, you throw the dice, and everyone watched carefully as they rolled.

The dice landed perfectly.

A wide tooth grin appeared on your face as your eyes shot back up to meet Belphie's. "Before I stab my sword into Beel's character's chest, I call out to Belphie's character and shout, Now you know how it feels!" The look of horror on everyone's face as the realization sets in as to why you attacked everyone's character suddenly.

Simon beings to narrate, "As you yell both Beel's and Belphie's characters awake. The last thing you see, Beel, is a slight glint of silver from the hilt of the blade. The rest of the sword is covered in a thick dark red."

You started to feel slightly guilty about your actions after looking over at Beel's face. The poor demon looked so distraught, but you would make it up to him later with plenty of snacks and hugs. You were too far into your mission to quit now, plus Belphie's reactions mostly washed away the guilt.

Simon continued, "Mc, your character proceeds to fall to the ground. Your last kill taking you out as well. Belphie, what do you want your character to do?"

Belphie snaps out of his confused haze at the sound of his name. "What? I...I um...I don't know, everyone's dead! What can I do?" He glared at you, "Why did you kill everyone?", he pointed his finger at Simon, "Why did you let Mc, do that!"

Mc smirked at him, "Now Blephie, Simon asked what your character does, don't break character now."

Belphie scowled more, "I guess...I look around the room at everyone laid out dead. And I go over between Mc's and Beel's character and fall to my knees screaming and crying till I pass out."

Simon nods, "You pass out holding onto your twin, warm tears still stain your face as you lay on his chest. I need you and Amira to make a history check." You and Belphie both roll your dice and pass the check.

Simon quickly hides the small smile that formed, "Belphie, your character sleeps through the night and wakes up to the sound of your party members getting ready for the day. You lay cuddled up to Beel's character's chest, as he lightly shakes up trying to wake you up faster. Everyone still feels a bit groggy, like they didn't have the most peaceful night's sleep, though the six of you", Simon gestures to Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, and Asmo, Beel, "don't remember what the dream was that caused such an unpleasant night of sleep... Everyone is back to full heal!"

Satan throws up his hands in anger, "WHAT! We're alive! I ripped up my character sheet!"

"Yes, you've done that quite a few times Satan, I will bring you the extra copy next session as usual. Now, that's where we'll end today's session everyone." Simon turns towards you with an impressed smile, "Mc, I'm quite surprised, I didn't think you'd be able to pull this off."

You had a proud smirk on your face, "For an angel, you have little faith, Simon."

Levi looked beyond betrayed, "You knew about this! And let Mc do it!"

You began to pack up your stuff, "Oh, you guys are overreacting. The timeline got wiped, so it's fine, right Barbatos, Diavolo."

Diavolo and Barbatos stiffened at your words. Diavolo was the first to speak up, "Mc, we've apologized, and we, I'm still very sorry. The test wasn't fair. And-"

You hold up your hand, "Oh, I know and I've forgiven you. All of you, since we discussed everything." You gave an evil smile to them, "I'm just petty." You went over to Simon and gave him a quick hug, "Thanks for letting me do this little side quest!" You patted Belphie on the head as you exited the room, leaving the boys to unpack that night's session.

Satan mumbled under his breath as you left, "Are we sure Mc isn't a demon?"

[sharkneto]

any random hcs/thoughts you have that dont fit in your JT/HT fics? something you think is cool but cant explore or dont have time for?

Oh boy, I have lots of little odds and ends that don't fit and probably won't turn into anything.

Lots about Rob and Sarah (some of these details can be found HERE) as I've figured out their backstories and history together. It's turned into quite the tooth-achingly sweet romcom.

Outside of general Rob and Sarah romcom, I think about random scenarios that just don't fit into HIT canon all the time. Amanda meeting our Five (touched on HERE). A fun one where Amanda gets kidnapped with Five (JT Five - Number), Five gets drugged heavily to keep him from doing anything, and Luther and Diego save the day through unwilling team-work while Five is drugged-up but actually pretty pleasant deadweight. Generally, more mixing and matching of siblings with Rob, Sarah, and/or Amanda are things that are thought about regularly.

And then there's the HIT canon stuff that just didn't make it. I should write a little one-shot or something sometime of Amanda running into Five at a house party before the whole Alley Incident because I've only written him when he's a sad, angry drunk but when he's just letting loose he's a chill, fun drunk. He drinks to not think and he is Not Thinking.

Random specific headcanons... - Sarah doesn't want kids and is bad at them, not a maternal bone in her body. She does her best but she just has no clue what she's supposed to do with them. This does extend to pets and she doesn't actually like Mr. Pennycrumb much outside of that he's good for Five and Five adores him. She thought she had a kindred spirit in Five with all this until he fell head-over-heels for his silly little dog. Rob is actually pretty good with kids but doesn't feel strongly about having any and he's a little... just this side of clinical when hanging out with them. How brains develop and kids figure things out is just so cool. He at least has experience with them with his nieces and nephews. - A tangent of the above is Rob's family. Sarah is an only child. Bam, easy, done. Rob is the youngest of three (brother 10 years older, sister 7 years older), and those siblings started having kids when Rob was in high school. Those kids are now starting to grow up and the first one now has a kid of her own. Christmas with Rob's family is A Lot and includes Rob's parents, his siblings and their spouses, his siblings' kids (two and three each, respectively), and his brother's first grandkid. The niblings all think Rob is Super Cool because he was Cool, Young Uncle Rob when they were little and that doesn't just go away. Rob's mom loves all the grandkids (and the great grandkid!) but would really love to have some grandkids from her youngest. Sarah is already overwhelmed by being surrounded by Walters and does not appreciate this pressure and how the Children Conversation is a conversation that somehow happens every time they see Rob's mom. Shout-out to @non-plutonian-druid for the deep dive we went in on this lol. There is a fun potential holiday fic somewhere in here. - Rob doesn't like classical music. It's on constantly at the hospital psych ward and at his office's waiting room for a Calm Mood and he's sick of it. I haven't actually thought about what music he does like. Sarah does 80s rock, but Rob... I like the idea of him listening to Dad Rock (despite not being a dad), but it could also be some truly random 90s stuff from his college days (of which I am not very familiar with despite being alive then because I was young and my dad was partial to the 70s and my mom was partial to classical). - Rob and Sarah broke up exactly once while they were dating, for three weeks. Sarah did the breaking up because she realized Rob was probably the Real Deal after they'd been dating for a year and a half and she Panicked. Rob was crushed but tried to respect her decision and space and hope she'd come back. She did in the form of falling off her bike and getting a concussion and Rob was still her hospital emergency contact. He takes care of her until someone else can come because he's still in love with her and their life is a romcom. Sarah cannot actually remember why she broke up with him because she's concussed. In trying to figure it out, trying to tell him he can be a little overwhelming in how there he is all the time, she says she broke up with him because he's "too Midwestern". Rob is understandably upset that they only broke up because he's from Iowa. They figure it out. - That post went around a bit ago about "what does your blorbo's phone look like" and that legit got me out of a no-words-funk thinking about Five's phone. I think it has exactly one catastrophic crack across the screen from when he first got it, went "I don't need a case", and was good without a case for like a week until he got too drunk and did drop it and it immediately cracked. It now has a Really Good Case - dark blue and slim but was really expensive so that you can practically drop it off a building and it will be okay without being obnoxiously bulky.

That's probably enough for now. I can ramble about my silly little blorbos forever lol

[blood-bound]

What's Mark Vela up to in more recent nights?

holy shit. thank you for my life. Long post incoming.

I will try to do this without explaining his whole ass story but relevant larger contexts: 

There was just open warfare between the Camarilla and Sabbat, and the Camarilla probably won? Mark and his coterie did well and were awarded territory

BUT just as the war ended, one of Mark’s coterie members got kidnapped by the former prince, who was thought to be dead but actually lived. (The person who claimed to kill him, the Nosferatu primogen, skipped town for good reason.) They are working with the most important Hound to find her. (This was a player character that dropped the game). The former prince may or may not be with the Sabbat, we don't know. He's a wildcard.

Currently, Mark is mainly trying to get his new territory under control. There’s a few loose ends, namely, the guy who is supposed to work for him and help the coterie run it, Tony, is a Fucking Puttanesca scumbag who fights the coterie every step of the way to make changes. They still have to work out their official contract but already he’s upset by every change. The biggest one being that Mark is having Sampson run a bar on the territory, simply cause Sampson wanted to run it. The coterie had to force Tony to let it happen which was fucking annoying cause its literally theirs! He's also really mean to his ghouls :(

There’s a forest on the territory that had some weird stuff happen on it. Traces of a fight were found as well as blood stains. The newest coterie member, Bernie the Nosferatu, did something stupid and licked the blood and basically tripped balls for two nights straight. Out of character I know this to indicate changeling blood. In character Mark is… looking into it and is making progress. 

The coterie stupidly also investigated a conservatory on their territory that Tony told them not to. And uh. It was bad. There’s some sort of monster in there that is really fucking good at awareness rolls. Mark could have died but the coterie escaped! One of Bernie’s rats probably died trying to sneak in though :(

The coterie decided to never speak of this again. 

They also brokered a deal with a Ventrue who owns a very profitable casino on their territory. They can get the casino and he will leave, if they take down a certain business that is hurting his interests in another part of town without tying it to him. That business? A subsidiary of Pentex. Of course Mark doesn’t know Pentex’s significance but Oh Boy I Do (they are basically the villains in Werewolf the apocalypse). His sire, Julius, is pleased with his progress and so lessened the strength of the blood bond between them. Mark can actually disagree with him now :) He also asked Mark to have a gangrel who owes him a favor to investigate a certain yacht called the “Nihil”. Not sure what that is yet but I suspect its related to the Tremere Primogen/Regeant as he likes latin stuff, and my sire and him are like, mega arch enemies (yes that makes it tough for Mark sometimes, but Julius is a higher ranking Tremere on a national scale so it sorta balances it out). 

Uhh as for Sampson he started moving out of Mark's apartment into his new place, which is basically a lil spot on the second floor of the building that will have his new bar. Mark has mixed feelings about it. On the one hand it looks bad to live with your ghoul, and they are Not Together and things are Weird between them, but he is worried Sampson won’t want to see him anymore especially because the blood bond he accidentally caused is also fading. And it makes him sad to live alone again :( And finally he is worried for Sampson's safety.

Sampson wants to move out, but he doesn’t want to stop living with Mark until his bed gets moved, but its too big to fit through the door without taking it apart. You may think, so duh, take it apart, but the issue is Mark got another experienced Tremere to ward the bed against changelings… and taking apart the bed would break the ward. there is a WHOLE story behind why that is important but in short a changeling took a STRONG interest in Sampson and basically haunted his dreams every night. Sampson doesn’t want that and so doesn’t want to sleep outside of the bed. This changeling also has trapped Mark in a pretty bad contract, but that story is too long for this post.

So Mark will probably end up owing the aforementioned Tremere another favor to remake the ward, revealing more of Mark’s personal care towards Sampson in the process :/ ouch. 

Those are the main things!!! There's more! A lot going on in Mark’s unlife right now.

[russilton]

1/2 Pr. Russilton, do you have advice for writers block? So I have this whole gewis fic idea in my head, a medieval abo au where George almost dies of heartbreak when lord Alex marries princess Lily, gets taken care of by King Lewis who has always been fond of his whipsmart advisor, and they slowly fall in love and George volunteers to spend his rut with him and Lewis picks him even though people warn him that George is a whore and too skinny! But war breaks out and George is a young lieutenant

2/2 and he has to go and they meet on the battlefield George is in pain and they mate that night and George may or may not get pregnant from it. But I just cannot. Put pen to paper. Literally nothing is coming out even though the idea is fleshed out and clear in my head.

First of all, you mate, are bad for my ego.

Second, FUCK that sounds like a good idea and I would VERY MUCH like you to write it cause it’s BITCHIN’

Third, let’s begin on actual advice,

Let me start by saying that until very recently I didn’t consider myself a writer at all! In my previous fandom I had about 20 fics with co-authors and 3 solo fics under my belt, the longest an unfinished 4k thing I sat on for 3 years.

In all my co writing I didn’t really “write” at all, I plotted, planned, researched and untwisted different logic holes. I didn’t think I could write, I found it really hard and could only work in absolute silence.

Then came this fandom, I was convinced it would be the same, I occasionally came up with ideas I told to @thatsmemate and she would go “sounds like you have to write that” and I, loving boyfriend that I am, would reply “hey shut up”

Then one day it happened again, and she said it again, and I went “look i can’t write this, but if I DID, I might start it like this” I put down a couple sentences, because I thought their where clever, and showed them to her. When she flipped out excitedly I kept going and I ended up writing the first car sitting scene for “and I will leave you notes” in one go.

Then I made a little bullet point list of other scenes, because I still thought it would be a 5+1 fic, and just tried to keep going. A lot of it was out of order, I wrote a lot of separate “scenes” I later returned to reconnect. Sometimes I wrote some REALLY trash scenes because they just HAD to be done, and then later I edited them into something I liked.

“Hey mark, what the fuck is all this ramble, you’re just narrating not giving any advice”

First of all, hey, you’re right but you’re supposed to stay inside my head.

But what I’m trying to get at, is the best way to start sometimes is to just write it the idea in your head onto paper. Plot out that plan if it’s a plan, lay it on a timeline. If your brain comes up with a specific line you want in there write it down, and keep going. Don’t think about where it goes, you can work around it.

The other way I write fics is just blurt them into someone’s inbox in varying levels of detail. @blafard now have a shared discord server for plotting out ideas with each other, all of redbull au is in there in loose details. All of fuck boy was written in note form specifically for @thatsmemate in her twitter DM’s, then later I just pulled all the notes into a gdoc and just followed them along as I expanded them into actual sentences.

When I’m really really stuck I re-read my own writing, editing as I go, and usually that gets things working.

So, to summarise, my absolutely unproven steps to solving my own writers block

1) plot notes, research notes, timeline notes

2) edit stuff you’ve already written till your brain gets in rhythm

3) fuck it just write whatever comes to mind and move it around after.

I garbled out this entire block of waffle in one go, I have no idea what I’m doing, and if I can write stuff people actually like, you sure fuckin can!

I can’t wait to see what you write anon, sounds amazing

[youryanderedaddy]

I had a dream just now that might make a good story. So, I had a virus on my laptop which allowed a hacker to see everything I did on my computer and use my webcam. The hacker ends up falling in love with me after stalking me for a few months and pays for someone on the dark web to kidnap me. It works, and then I wake up tied up in the hacker's arm as he caresses and kisses me. That's pretty much it, good night! 🌙

Yo this is my kink 😳

Also I couldn't not write this for Saeran, ok.

Title: Stranger danger

Tw: nsfw - ish, female reader, masturbation, cyber stalking, hacking, mentions of dark web, very irresponsible online behavior, obsessive behavior, implied kidnapping

You knew that this was a stupid idea. Lurking on the dark web with almost no protection other than the Tor browser and some free anti-virus program wasn't your best decision, but fuck it if it wasn't entertaining. You had always been drawn to the darker, scarier part of the human mind and this side of the internet proved quite interesting. Your friends always warned you about the dangers that came with looking up shady online searches and sites but everything had been quite peaceful so far. There weren't hackers or murderers on the dark web, the worst you had seen were people selling drugs and weapons for unreasonable prices, along with some questionable fetish porn and the typical popping ads.

Your favorite thing to do while online was chatting. Two weeks ago you had stumbled upon an unusual forum called "Scream buddies" where upon entering you were automatically connected to another random profile. The whole theme of the forum was discussing horror and mondo movies, shockumentaries and overall creepy stuff, your forte. The person you met on there shared a similar fascination with all things dark and gory which soon made talking to them the only thing you were looking forward upon opening the site.

You didn't know much about the guy behind the profile yet, except that he was a young man. His icon showed an eye so green it emited with the neon pigment and his username was just as mysterious - BlueRose7. You enjoyed chatting with him about your hobby but the thing you liked the most was undressing him little by little, metaphorically so, by getting pieces of information about his life. It started small - his favorite food, favorite book, favorite game, but the moment you tried digging deeper and asked whether he had siblings or not, the man simply disappeared for the next few days. You quickly realized just what type of topics you needed to avoid to keep your new friend from leaving. Family, childhood memories and work matters were out of the picture.

The stranger wasn't fair, not really. He didn't show you vulnerability and kept his secrecy while demanding to know everything there was to know about you. For the longest time you didn't want to answer just to stay on a equal footing, just to show him how frustrating it was, but there was something about the man that drew you in. He was magnetic, clever and witty, if a bit pessimistic and dark at times. You couldn't help telling him everything he wanted to hear - what your job was, whether you were single or not, all that jazz. In your defense, BlueRose7 actually listened to your stories, took your problems seriously and provided solutions, which despite being too extreme and overprotective at times (upon hearing that your bestfriend talked behind your back he offered to "take care" of her), were comforting. It was nice to have someone caring around even if you met him on a sketchy website.

Meanwhile your personal life wasn't going too great. You had to balance between attending college, working long shifts as a waitress and meeting your friends from time to time which was draining. On top of all there was a weird virus on your computer which resulted in the camera turning on and off and the most random times of the day - while you were studying, watching TV, or in some cases, fully naked and ready to take a bath. You didn't think much of it though, with all the illegal movies and games you downloaded along with the dark web lurking it was more than expected for your laptop to behave weirdly. You didn't even mention it to your friend from the IT major because you knew that he'd force you to delete Tor and put an end to your internet adventures.

One time you were particularly bored after several long lectures and you were laying in bed, the camera turned on once again. It was a hot afternoon and you were wearing boyshorts and a loose T- shirt with nothing underneath it, you were home alone so there was no need. The bright red spot was twinking like a recorder, the light reflecting in your eyes, when a silly little idea came to your mind. You slid your hand under your blouse and lifted the fabric up, exposing your breasts to the laptop, your nipples hardening due to the sudden coldness, becoming pink and stiff in seconds. You played with for a few minutes, pinching and pulling the buds gently, moaning softly into the pleasant sensation. Soon you could feel yourself getting wet, and slowly, teasingly, removed your shorts and panties. You smiled at the camera, biting your lip provocatively, imagining you were a camgirl performing for her desperate little fanboys and fangirls. The thought alone was enough to make you spread your legs wide and slip two fingers into your throbbing cunt, using the wetness to push deeper. You used your other hand to stroke your clit and whimpered wantonly, your face red, your neck sweaty and your heart pumping fast from the adrenaline. You were quickly reaching your orgasm and your mind wondered to the boy you were talking to in the forum. You wondered how he looked like, how his body was built, whether he was a sweet sensual lover or a rough mean one. Fucked up as it was, you pictured the man as one of your most loyal viewers, watching all of your streams with a fist around his thick vock and an excited grin on his face. He would comment things like "you look so beautiful like this" or perhaps even "pretty little slut" after tipping you enough to last you a week. Soon all the mental stimulation sent you over the edge and you came with a loud cry full of pleasure. Well, this felt good.

After your "performance" was over the camera was magically turned off, which may have caused some concerns if you weren't too busy feeling embarrassed and dirty about the unhinged fantasy you had just had, and with a person you knew nothing about. You managed to calm down though - it wasn't nothing more than a fun pastime, a naughty thought that would never become the reality. You would never actually meet BlueRose7, right? There was nothing to worry about, so you just went on with your day.

You had some dinner afterwards and decided to have an early night as you already felt full and tired. You put on your favoruite pajamas and laid in bed, staring at the ceiling until you fell into deep dreamless sleep.

You woke up due to a weird noise. You could hear someone's heavy breathing right next to your ear, someone's grabby hands were wrapped tightly against your body, trapping you between the wall and their hard chest. You had only a few seconds to scream before the intruder's palm covered your mouth.

"Shhh." The man whispered softly and stroked your hair like you were a doll he was playing with. "Don't scream or I'll be forced to hurt you, flower. I have a gun." His voice sounded deep and rough but this didn't stop you from thrashing and turning on your side until you came face to face with the man. It was dark in the room and you couldn't exactly see all his features but his enchanting green eyes would forever be burned into your memory - they seemed dashing, hypnotizing. You couldn't utter a word.

"It's me, the person you've been talking to all these months. I came to take you home" He spoke out suddenly, the line of his mouth twisting into a smile or a smirk, you couldn't quite tell. You shook your head no, tears threatening to spill all over your cheeks from the fear. It couldn't be him, the man would never do that to you. Or would he? With what little information you knew, you couldn't really tell. His hold finally loosen, seeing you quiet like that.

"Let me go, please." You begged, pushing at his shoulders weakly since you were still sleepy, groggy and tired. "I don't know you." You said, hoping this would remind the stranger you weren't friends, lovers or anything that gave him the right to be so close to you, to touch you so intimately. Unfortunately, this only seemed to amuse him and he chucked darkly as he pulled your hair away to place a small chaste kiss on your neck.

"But I know you, flower." Your supposed online friend replied shortly after, his eyes full of malice. "And your little show today makes me think you want to know me too." He added in a low tone, licking his lips before smashing them on yours, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth just to hear your whines and protests. Then it hit you. The camera, the virus, the questions. He had watched you, he knew where you worked, where you lived and studied, everything. You had told him after all.

The hacker thought you looked so adorable right now, figuring things out, helpless, confused, regretful and most of all, weak. You were so weak and careless, and he loved you for it. It reminded him of himself before life screwed him over.

You wouldn't be in this position, underneath him, if you had just told someone about your laptop virus and the bad guy you had encountered online. But Saeran couldn't say he wasn't glad your self-preservation instincts were so very broken and dysfunctional. He wouldn't meet you otherwise. "I need you, princess. That's why I'll take you to Paradise." These were the final words you heard before you felt lightheaded and sleepy again, your last memory a pair of green mint eyes.

You really shouldn't have trusted strangers on the internet.

[messers-moony]

Divorce | J.P

Paring: James Potter X Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Reader goes through divorce with her arranged husband but sees her Hogwarts crush almost two years later at her Potions shop in Diagon Alley

Divorce sucks. There is no other way to say it. There is no amount of sugar to properly coat the words to make them seem better than they are. Instead, they’re pure salt– pure acidity. An arranged marriage for purebloods was typical. That doesn’t mean that everyone technically agrees they work. Some speculate that arranged marriages work more than chosen marriages. Y/n wouldn’t be one of those people.

Her family was a part of the sacred twenty-nine. The L/n’s, to be more specific. Y/n was a model child, an only child at that. She was sorted into Slytherin with not a consideration of any other house. Immediately at the age of sixteen, she was engaged to another man called Zenix Flores, another family of the sacred twenty-eight. Zenix was sweet, but he wasn’t her type.

Throughout her years at Hogwarts, Y/n stared at another. His name was James Potter. A star Quidditch player for the Gryffindor team. The best Chaser. Y/n’s lingering stares and dreamy look didn’t make it past Zenix. Fortunately, Zenix had eyes for another as well, Sirius Black, the best friend of James Potter. They bonded over that. They bonded over being in love with people they couldn’t have.

Everyone dies eventually. Immortality is not reality, and once Y/n’s parents died. Divorce was in order. However, they didn’t love each other like they should’ve it still sucked. They were close friends. But did close friends have a child together? Leo Flores, the product of Y/n Flores and Zenix Flores, was only eight years old when they went through the divorce. Leo was a token to show that Zenix and Y/n fell in love. An illusion.

It took months, but after the process was complete, Y/n left. Leo was to be in her care for the rest of his life. Zenix would send some of his profit to them to help, but he would never see his son again. Granted, he didn’t treat Leo well. Always so harsh, so strict on the little boy. The first words out of Leo’s mouth were ma’am and sir. Not momma or daddy. Instead, they were formalities.

They lived in an apartment in Diagon Alley. It wasn’t huge, but it was enough. Y/n changed her last name, and Leo’s back to L/n. Another long process but worth the wait. Y/n worked at a Potions shop in the Alley. Sometimes her old friend Severus would visit and buy some ingredients, but no one else she knew ever came into the shop. Not until he showed up at the door.

James Potter came waltzing into the Potions shop like it was nobody’s business. Unknown to the woman working the shop, he had been watching her work from afar. Just across the street was a bookstore where Remus would visit. During one of those visits, James caught sight of her. Granted, James didn’t think he’d find love after Lily ran away after his proposal claiming he wasn’t enough but that all changed when he saw her.

The feelings came back like it was yesterday she was gazing at him from the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. Y/n’s cheeks were set ablaze, and her stomach was placed into a frenzy of a million different feelings. Her heart made it seem like she ran around the Quidditch pitch one thousand times. Unbeknownst to her, he felt the same way.

Eventually, he made his way to the counter, “ Um- Good Afternoon. “

“ Good afternoon, sir. How may I assist you today? “ Y/n asked despite her racing heart, “ I need some help brewing a complex Potion. “ James confessed, fiddling with his hands.

“ What Potion, sir? “ Y/n inquired, “ Wolfsbane. “ James answered.

Her eyebrow quirked upward, “ That is a difficult Potion. It could have awful defects if made incorrectly. “ Y/n explained, looking at the ingredient list, “ How about this, I’ll make you the Potion instead of you possibly messing it up? “

“ How can I trust you won’t mess up? “ James questioned, smirking teasingly, “ Well. If it helps any, I received O’s on all of my Potion examinations, even in N.E.W.T level. “ Y/n quipped.

“ Well. I suppose you know your stuff. “ He replied as he crossed his arms, “ I suppose I do. “ Y/n retorted with a smile.

So James decided that she’d make the Potion. He would’ve paid her a million Galleons if he was just allowed to sit in the shop and stare at her. She was a beauty and moved so gorgeously. She moved with a purpose, with determination and ambition. Sirius and Remus had begun teasing him as James stared longingly at the Potions shop across the street.

“ Do you know her name? “ Remus asked, standing beside James now, “ No? “ James stated.

Remus chuckled; of course, he didn’t, “ Y/n L/n. She was a Slytherin in our year. Amazingly brilliant she is. Apparently, she was married to Zenix Flores but got divorced two years ago. “

James and Sirius stared gobsmacked, “ Did you stalk Prongs’ future wife? “ Sirius accused, and Remus shrugged, “ I was curious. Plus, I knew her at Hogwarts. She was a Prefect. We had a lot of rounds together. “

“ She was a Prefect? “ James queried, “ Mhm. You were too busy drooling at Lily to notice her. “ Remus nodded.

Now James felt incredibly stupid. All those pranks on the Slytherin house made him feel exceptionally stupid, knowing that she could’ve caught the backlash on some of them. Not only that, but she was a part of the sacred twenty-eight. James had never felt more idiotic, and he had gotten rejected after proposing to his girlfriend. That was saying something.

A month had passed, and the potion was ready. So once again, James walked into the Potions shop. This time she had a messy top knot present on top of her hair. Her eyes held extreme tiredness, and she moved almost sluggishly. James was worried. But Y/n saw him enter the shop and her cheerful smile glazed her face. Two bottles were now present on the counter for James to take.

He stood at the counter and pressed ten Galleons on the table, “ Sir, they’re only three Galleons. “ Y/n stated, “ Take the extra. You look exhausted. “ James replied.

“ Th- Thank you. “ Y/n smiled, “ Thank you, Y/n, for making these. “ James said gratefully.

Y/n blushed, “ I- Um- You were a Slytherin Prefect in my year at Hogwarts. “ James stammered, “ I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you before. “

“ It’s okay. Divorce can do that to you, Huh? “ Y/n laughed bitterly, “ Well, when I proposed to Lily, she straight up told me I wasn’t good enough so, that was almost like divorce minus the paperwork. “ James added.

“ I’m- I’m so sorry. “ Y/n apologized, “ No, no. I’m okay, trust me. It’s been about three years. “ James replied.

Before Y/n could speak again, steps were heard from the second story, “ Mom! Mom! “ Leo’s voice called as he rushed down the steps.

“ Mom! “ Leo appeared from behind the counter to see James and a blushing Y/n, “ Oops, uh, sorry, mom. “

“ No, it’s fine. Come here. “ James beckoned, and Leo hesitantly approached, “ What’s your name, little man? “

“ I’m ten! “ Leo announced proudly, and James chuckled, “ That’s awesome! “ James smiled.

Y/n turned to her son, “ What did you need, Leo? “ Despite being embarrassed, she was calm, “ You accidentally placed my quills on a high shelf. I can't reach them. “ Leo confessed, slightly embarrassed.

“ I’ll be up in just a second, but- “ Y/n began, but James stuck out his hand, “ I’m James. “

“ I’m Leo. “ Leo accepted the handshake and smiled at the adult man, “ If your mom doesn’t mind, maybe we could chat? “ James inquired, looking toward Y/n.

Leo looked hopeful at his mom, “ Please? “

“ Sure. You can go. “ Y/n allowed, and Leo hopped over the counter.

Before James could leave the proximity of the counter, Y/n grabbed his wrist, “ Please. Take care of him; I'm trusting you blindly here. “ She pleaded, and James smirked, “ Of course. “

The rest of the day went smoothly. Y/n had closed shop and began restocking items when they showed up. James' unkempt brown hair was more unorganized, but his hazel eyes glassed with mischief. Leo’s black hair was blown away from the rain, and his blue eyes sparkled with excitement. James beckoned the ten-year-old back upstairs while he approached Y/n.

“ So? Have a nice day with my kid? “ Y/n teased, and James chuckled, “ He’s fantastic. “

“ I know. “ She replied, “ I took him for ice cream, and we went shopping for a little. “ James informed.

Y/n melted at the adoration present on James' face, “ Do you need any money back? I can- “

“ No. Don’t worry about it, doll. I’ve got it covered. “ James interjected, “ I just saw him, and he had this look. He looked trapped. He needed to leave and just let loose for a couple of hours. “

“ I- I really love him. “ James confessed, and Y/n smirked, “ You’re in love with my son but not the woman who created him? “

“ If we're being honest. I’ve been watching you from the bookstore across the street. I thought you were gorgeous. Remus was the one who told me who you were. “ He admitted nervously, “ But being with your son today. If you’d like, could I take him out more often? “

She stepped down from the ladder and stood in front of him, “ How about you stay forever? “

“ I- I mean that is if you want. I know that I’m a pureblood, and- and my son- you probably don’t want to have a child right now. He’ll be going to Hogwarts soon, and quite frankly, I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it. But- But his former father wasn’t amazing, and I’m not sure you want that responsibility- “

Y/n was cut off when James grabbed her by the waist and placed his lips on hers. His thumbs rubbed gentle circles on her skin through her shirt. Y/n’s hands went through his unkept brown tuffs and his glasses slightly fogged from the heat of the kiss. They pulled apart but rested their foreheads on each other. They were still somewhat breathless from the soft kiss.

He held her chin in his hand, “ I’d love nothing more than to stay forever. “