#and i come back and my whole pencil case is gone

[aroacesigma]

.

[scalingsvt8thusiast]

Wait for your love (angst)

summary: you wait in silence, waiting for wonwoo to finally love you

inspired by Ariana Grande's We Can't be Friends (AKA Wait for your love)

a/n: I wrote this in a fever dream, some suggestive themes but nothing much apart from that. It's a 2 part fic. so look out for part 2 I guess :D

I didn’t think you’d understand me

You remembered the first interaction you had with Wonwoo. You had asked him for help with some maths question back in high school. 

“I don’t think that’s the right answer…” You whispered, watching him flush red as he rummaged through his pencil case clumsily looking for his eraser. 

“My maths isn’t very good!” He cried, erasing the answer that was so far off. 

“Oh! How about we try this!” You stuck your tongue out as you worked on the question using another method. 

The both of you flipped to the back of the book to check the answer. You remembered the look of awe Wonwoo gave you when your answer was right. 

Wonwoo was the quiet kid, the one who sat at the last row of class, always looking out the window, not paying attention in class. He wasn’t a star student or an athlete so on the popularity scale he was basically non-existent. You weren’t far off either. Pigtails and braces meant you weren’t much higher than him on that god-forsaken scale. But that’s what brought the two of you together. 

After that first interaction, you started warming up to your quiet seatmate. You joined him in the cafeteria, asked him out on study dates, even dragging him to his first hangout. You liked to think that he just accepted his fate, the two of you were destined to be friends. 

Somewhere along the line of your friendship, you started developing feelings for the scrawny boy. You couldn’t pin point exactly when or what caused your infatuation. You just remembered realising his facial features were so sharp, his shoulders were so broad and his hands were so large and warm. Was it when your hands met in the popcorn tub during the Star Wars reruns at your local cinema? Was it when you stared too deeply into his eyes during a round of cards? Was it when he picked you up and ran a whole lap around the park to prove a point?

You couldn’t remember. But it felt like you had been liking him for the longest time.

I’ll wait for your love

Everything changed after graduation. 

The break before university was due to start, you had gone off to stay with relatives in Paris while Wonwoo had gone off to stay with his brother in Seoul. The two of you were scheduled to attend the same universities, even scheduled to live together. It was only natural considering how long you two had been friends. He would arrive from Seoul first and you were due to arrive 2 weeks after, just in time for the first day of school. 

You were thoroughly surprised by the boy man who greeted you at the front door. 

“Wonwoo?” You said, blinking rapidly. 

Where was the scrawny, skinny boy you were familiar with? Who replaced him with this tall, handsome and extremely well built man?

“Y/n!” Wonwoo beamed at you, immediately helping you with your bags. 

You were momentarily taken aback by his voice. His high pitched, nasally voice had developed into a deep baritone. 

“How was Seoul?” You had managed to croak out, still dumb struck by the massive change your best friend went through.

“Great. I actually met quite a few friends in the same uni.” Wonwoo’s eyes held an excited glint.

You hummed, wondering how your anti-social and shy friend had managed to become a social butterfly. 

You should have known that was the first sign of the inevitable downfall of your friendship. 

Throughout the next few weeks, you were busy trying to get settled into your new life while Wonwoo was busy partying his life away. He would leave each night and return at wee hours of morning.

You remembered the first time you went to pick him up. 

“Y/n,” He drawled over the phone. 

You turned to check the clock, it was 4AM. “Wonwoo?”

“Can you come-,” A loud cheer erupted in the background. “Can you come get me?” 

“Oh, ok!” You said, pushing your blanket aside. “Text me the add-,”

He hung up. 

DING

You received the location from him.

Trying to look as presentable as possible, you hopped into your car. Driving to your best friend with Google Maps as guidance. 

You arrived at the party, expecting Wonwoo to be waiting for you by the road, ready to leave. But he was nowhere to be found. Wonwoo wasn’t waiting for you in front of the house, he wasn’t even standing with the groups of people near the front door. 

You tried his phone again but you were sent straight to voicemail. You jumped out of the car and went into the house. You tried your best to push through the multitudes of drunk people, looking for your best friend. Finally you found him, playing beer pong and boy, did he suck. 

“Won?” You said, coming up next to him. 

“Y/N!” He shouted, throwing his arms around you, dragging you into his chest for a hug. 

“Won, let’s go.” You coaxed, your nose crinkled from the strong stench of alcohol. 

“Everybody!” Wonwoo bellowed, “This is my friend! Y/N!”

You were horrified as everybody turned to look at you. You gave an awkward smile and squeezed his arm.

“Wonwoo, let’s go, please.” You begged, you had a class in 2 hours and you wanted to get home in time for at least 1 more hour of sleep. 

“But y/n, you just got here!” Wonwoo whined, he pouted. 

“Oh God, Woo, please.” You implored, biting your lip. You weren’t comfortable, you didn’t know anybody here and you had an overgrown child hanging onto you. 

“Okay,” Wonwoo quipped. “But only because you asked nicely.”

That was how you managed to get your housemate home. 

Wonwoo never apologised. He didn’t speak to you the whole week, he kept himself shut in his room while you went about your day. You tried knocking on his door, offering some food you had made but he never responded. 

After that incident, you noticed that he would do it more often. He would call you at odd hours of the morning, asking you to come pick him up, flirt with you then subsequently pass out on the couch. 

You found yourself getting hopeful. You deluded yourself into thinking that Wonwoo was doing this because you were the only person he trusted. You just had to wait a little longer for him to realise his feelings for you. You just had to wait.  

“Y/n, I love you soooo much,” Wonwoo slurred, you had slung one of his arms around your shoulder, walking him to your car. 

“Won, please.” You said, trying your best not to be effected by his empty words. You pushed him against the car while you fumbled for your car keys. 

Suddenly you felt your world spin, when it stopped you were face to face with your best friend. Wonwoo had flipped you over, your back now pressed against the car, his arms to your sides, caging you. His face was a whole ten centimetres away from yours. You could feel his breath on your face, your heart beat rapidly rising, one of your hands gripping his bicep to keep yourself steady. 

“Y/n, you’re so pretty.” He muttered, he placed a hand on your cheek. His eyes were on your lips. His tongue licking his own. 

“You’re drunk.” You whispered, you used all your strength to push against his chest. 

He didn’t move. Next thing you know, his lips were on yours. 

That was how you lost your first kiss to your best friend.

You cling to your papers and pens, wait until you like me again

After that kiss (wherein he subsequently passed out on you), Wonwoo seemed to avoid you even more. 

He no longer called you when he needed a ride home, instead his friends would send him home. You had met 3 of his friends: Mingyu, Vernon and Seungcheol. They each seemed to take turns dragging Wonwoo’s drunk ass into the house. Surprisingly they would all be sober each time. Which made you wonder if Wonwoo just had a habit of calling random people to send him home. 

“Y/n?” Wonwoo’s voice came.

You shot up from the dining table, you had just been busy revising for your upcoming tutorial. Wonwoo never spoke to you, so this was a shock. 

“I was wondering,” He cleared his throat, “could you help me with this?” 

You blinked, he was holding a few pieces of paper. 

“Sure!” You chirped, a little too cheerily. 

Of course you would help your best friend. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t spoke to you in months. It didn’t matter that he had ignored you when you tried to wave at him on campus. It didn’t matter that he pretended not to know you among his new friends.

Wonwoo was your best friend, so you were going to bury your feelings and help him. 

“Thanks.” He smiled. 

That smile that made your stomach do a summersault. That smile that threw you back to your teenage years, when he would smile at you and only you. 

It became a routine. He only spoke to you when he needed help with work. Even though you weren’t in the same course as him, you found yourself studying up on what he needed, just so you could help him. 

You found yourself staying up late, studying for both your finals as well as his finals. Just so when he came home the next day from some party, you could help him. 

You helped him because that was the only chance you had to speak to him. 

You helped him because that was the only time he showed you any attention. 

You helped him because you loved him. 

Just wanna let this story die

Wonwoo brought a girl home. 

It was 4AM in the morning, you were cramming for your exams the next day after looking through Wonwoo’s materials for his tutorial the day after. You could literally feel your head overheating with all the knowledge you were shoving into your brain. You stood up, deciding to stretch out your unused muscles when you heard the front door open. It was opened with so much force that the door banged onto the wall, causing you to jump. 

“Wony!!!” You heard a voice, it wasn’t that low voice you so loved from your house mate. It was a high pitched squeal which you were sure your house mate could not have produced. 

A yelp could be heard followed by loud shushes. 

You pushed your door open a smidge, peeking out into the hallway.

You blood ran cold.

Right by the front door was Wonwoo, making out with a girl.

You could feel a lump growing in your throat as you shut your door. You closed your eyes, trying your best to erase the sight. The image of your best friend’s lust-ladened eyes, arms encircled around another girl, lips on hers was burnt forever your memory. 

You felt yourself crumple against the floor. Your stared blankly into space for what felt like hours. The pit in your stomach grew with every second that passed. When you finally found the energy, you crawled over to your bed. Tears seeped from the corner of your eyes as you buried your face into your pillow. Trying to muffle the loud moans and groans coming from the other room. You brought a hand to your mouth, trying not to make a sound as you cried yourself to sleep.

So for now it’s only me, and maybe that’s all I need

“He’s a fucking asshole.” Chan cursed. 

You smiled weakly at your friend. The two of you sat in a booth at Chan’s favourite bar. You didn’t drink but he did. Chan had forced you out after you refused to leave your room for weeks.

“He knows you have feelings for him.” Chan hissed. “There’s no fucking way he doesn’t.”

You shrugged. After much pestering, you had finally relayed everything to Chan. Everything. From when you first met Wonwoo to when he brought a girl home. 

“I thought I would wai-,” You voice came out as a whisper, ashamed.

“Please don’t tell me. Wait?” Chan finished for you, tilting his glass of beer towards you. 

“Yup.” You said with a sigh. 

“Why wait for someone like him? Why wait for someone who doesn’t even care about you?” Chan said, sounding angrier and angrier by the second. 

His question stung. Deep down, you didn’t want to admit it, but you knew Wonwoo didn’t care about you. You knew he was just using you, keeping you around only because you made his life convenient. 

“Move out.” Chan demanded. 

“What?” You blurted, “Chan, I can’t just move out!” 

“Yes you can.” Chan pointed to himself. “Move in with me, I have a spare room!” 

“But what about Wonwoo?”

“What about that asshole?” Chan rolled his eyes. 

“I can’t just leave him like that.” You said, exasperated. You weren’t about to leave your best friend alone. 

“Why not?” Chan argued. “You think he won’t do the same to you? He’ll drop you the first chance he gets, y/n.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes. You loved Chan but there were times when he was too blunt. 

“Chan, please.” You whispered, tears started rolling down your eyes. 

“Ok, I’m sorry.” Chan immediately panicked. “I’m sorry I said that.”

He moved to sit next to you, rubbing your back as you sobbed into your bowl of fries. 

You moved out the next day, without so much as a goodbye to your childhood friend. 

a/n2: not very good at writing, quality is absolute crap imo considering i wrote this in under an hour. anything you guys think I should improve in lmk!

[zepskies]

Calculated Risks

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse, friends! Did you miss these two as much as I did? Plus, get ready for a heavy dose of fan-favorite Frank. (And Lila, of course!)

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: Familiar bickering, a mission gone awry, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Catch up on the BMD-verse. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

In four years of marriage, one thing that had never changed between you and Ben was this.

“All right, you’re being a little too much right now,” you said in irritation. “Of course I’m not sitting this one out. I’m the one who found us the damn lead in the first place.”

The man was following you from the adjoining bathroom and back into your shared bedroom, where you began getting dressed for work in the blouse and pencil skirt you’d laid out for yourself.

Your husband had already donned his supe suit, sans helmet. He stood just behind you with his arms crossed, a familiar surly frown on his face. When you turned around, he hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’m being too much? You’re the one who’s not being fucking reasonable,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and moved past him to find your shoes. For this skirt, you really needed heels. Your most comfortable black pumps would do. You grabbed the closet doorknob for balance as you slipped them on, giving him a look of exasperation.

Ben held firm on his stance, but inside, he had a feeling you’d chosen this outfit on purpose. You knew he liked this whole sexcretary look on you, with your hair let down around your shoulders. The skirt and heels just brought his eyes to the delectable curve of your ass.

But again, he was holding firm.

He’d been called in on this case partly because Annie was on maternity leave. She was due in just a few weeks. Which meant “Soldier Boy” was definitely needed to help out Butcher and his merry band of assholes. By now, Ben had gotten used to them.  

“Look,” you said, “Slingshot has been causing a lot of havoc, and the police haven’t been able to catch him. You heard Grace. This is an ‘all hands on deck’ situation.”

“She always says that shit. Doesn’t make it true,” Ben retorted.

“This time it is,” you said. “I’ve already put in tons of man hours on surveillance for this guy. I want to get him off the street.”

Ben held you by your arms. “That’s exactly my point. You’ve been putting in way too many hours.”

You shook your head. He just didn’t get it.

“If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have this opening now,” you said. You gave him a smile to try and lighten him. “Now he’s all teed up for you and the guys. This should be in and out. Practically a milk run for you.”

“Yeah, but not for you,” he pointed out. “And not for Lila. You’re stretching yourself too damn thin. It’s not like we need the money.”

Ahh, now we get to it, you thought. Yet again, he was bringing this up. In his mind, you should’ve cut your hours at Supe Affairs after Lila was born.

You did take an extended maternity leave of an entire year and a half, which was much more than women usually got from their jobs. However, because of your relationship with Grace and the entire team, you’d been allowed to come back whenever you felt ready. 

Ben had often felt it necessary to point out that with his money, you didn’t have to work at all. 

He knew very well that for you, this work was more than a job. 

“I’m not the first working mom in existence, Ben,” you said, pushing out of his hold. “And I’ll remind you that Supe Affairs has a great daycare program. Lila’s very happy there.”

Plus, she was almost three and a half years old. In less than a year, Lila would be off to preschool.

“And look, it’s not about the money,” you added. “I told you before Lila was born. I am a mother, and I’m your wife. But I’m still me.”

Ben processed that for a moment, meeting your gaze.

“The situation’s changed,” he replied. He grasped your hips this time. His thumb gently brushed over your belly, which had a small bump under your high-waisted skirt. 

You were finally pregnant again. Three months, in fact, and you were having a boy. You knew that Ben had several reasons to be more protective than usual…but still. You thought you were already taking every precaution to keep you and your children safe, even with the occasionally extensive hours of your job.

“These cases can be long and difficult, not to mention dangerous,” said Ben. His green eyes met yours as he looked down at you through furrowed brows. “You’re putting yourself at risk.”

You blew out a breath and tried to placate him, soothing a hand over his chest. 

“I’ve stopped doing field missions,” you pointed out. “And Supe Affairs is the most secure building in the city. Do you think I would bring Lila there if it wasn’t?”

The security team at the S.A. was bar none, not only because Loco was a part of that team. Frank was also your personal bodyguard; Ben hired him back when you found out you were pregnant with Lila.

In fact, Frank was coming to the house in a few minutes to pick you all up.

Ben frowned. “I think you’re being stubborn just to be fucking stubborn.”

That sparked at your temper. Again, you withdrew from his arms and crossed yours.

“I think you need to face the fact that I’m protected as well as I can be,” you said. “I also think that you’re trying to use this as a way to shoehorn me into some antiquated idea of what you still think a wife should be. I’m gonna tell you right now. That’s not me! It’s never been me. And you know that.”

He opened his mouth to give an angry retort, but you beat him to it.

“It’s like you don’t even care about what I want,” you snapped. “Just what you think is right—for me to be here waiting for you to come home, quite literally barefoot and pregnant, ready to rub your balls!”

Cliché as it might’ve been to say, if the shoe fit, then you were certainly not going to be the one to wear it.

“You know what, you can accuse me of being stuck in the fucking past all you want,” Ben said, raising a finger, as well as his voice. “But the problem here isn’t me. It’s that what you want is goddamn idiotic!”

Your mouth fell agape. “Excuse me?! I can’t even believe you right now!”

Ben fairly loomed above you when he shouted back.

“Well, that makes fucking two of us!”

His voice was loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You even flinched, but you held your ground with a glare…

Until you heard a whimper.

You and Ben paused, and turned to find Lila. The three-year-old was cowering a bit in the doorway to your bedroom. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she began to cry.

Your heart broke.

“Oh, honey,” you breathed. You were both apologetic and mortified as you quickly went to her.

Ben was close behind you, but while Lila was quick to melt into your arms when you picked her up, she shied away from his attempt to reach out to her. What would’ve been a placating hand on her head, turned into him pausing in surprise when she ducked.

“Lila?” he prodded.

He tried to mask how put out he was by his daughter hiding her face from him, burrowing into your neck instead. She was usually a daddy’s girl, through and through.

You shot him a knowing frown, while rubbing her back in comfort.

“It’s okay, baby,” you told her. “Your dad and I were just…talking. He didn’t mean to shout.”

When Lila only whimpered in response, Ben’s gaze dimmed in understanding. His lips pursed.

You saw that look on his face, and you wanted to sigh. Part of you felt bad for him, at the way Lila had flinched away from her father. In a way though, maybe it was a lesson he needed to learn.

Frank arrived a few minutes later in a black SUV, like he did every weekday morning to bring you all to work. Ben was quiet and taciturn climbing into the backseat on one side, and you clipped Lila into her car seat from the other side. He still made sure that she was strapped in correctly, and even tried to earn his daughter’s gaze.

She snuck a glance at him a couple of times, but quickly lowered it to play with one of her favorite stuffed animal toys (a little German shepherd that he had gotten for her).

Ben let out a long breath through his nose. He gave Frank a nod through the rearview mirror, and the other man peeled away from the house.

The four of you rode in silence away from your house in Scarsdale, towards New York City.

Ben’s mood remained grim, even when you all got to Supe Affairs. Frank held back while you and Ben stopped in the hallway with Lila. You were carrying her, and she was holding onto you and her stuffed animal like a lifeline instead of looking anywhere else—namely at Ben.

You sighed and tried to pull her back enough to see her face.

“Daddy’s gotta go to work now. Want to say goodbye?” you encouraged.

All Lila could manage was a shy look in his direction. Ben laid a gentle hand on her head, over her dark hair.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.

Lila didn’t answer him. She just bit her lip and stayed withdrawn.

You and Ben shared a glance. He was hiding it well behind his usual stoicism, but this was hurting him. There wasn’t much either of you could do about it now, however. You both had work to do, and the mission would have to come first.

“I’ll be online in a bit,” you told him. 

First, you needed to take Lila up to daycare before Frank accompanied you to your office. There you’d be able to join the mission from your computer and put your headset on. Aside from surveillance, you were their virtual eyes on missions. 

So Ben tacitly agreed, and the two of you parted ways.

You went up to the second floor to drop Lila off at daycare, where you set her onto her feet. You could see that she was quiet and almost sad, not as bright and talkative as usual. And she was clinging to your hand. You bent down the best you could in your skirt, so you could meet her eyes.

“Are you still upset with your dad?” you asked. 

After a moment, Lila replied, “Daddy’s loud.”

You couldn’t help a rueful smile. 

“Yeah, he can be,” you nodded. “But he’s gonna work on that, okay? He loves you very much.”

She finally smiled a little when you pressed a few sweet kisses to her cheeks. You felt a little better about leaving her with Sarah, the woman who ran the daycare center. She was kind, but well-organized, and good at her job of wrangling fifteen or so toddlers on a daily basis.

And she was hovering off to the side with a smile, waiting to shepherd Lila over to where the rest of the group were starting at the arts and crafts table.

“Okay, baby. I love you. I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you said, caressing Lila’s cheeks, brushing her hair away from her face.

She nodded and waved goodbye. Sarah then stepped in and guided the girl over to the crafts table. The other kids were already drawing and coloring with crayons and markers.

With a sigh, you knew you had to get to work. You joined Frank out in the hall.

“Did something happen this morning?” he asked. You gave him a weary look.

“Something always happens. I’ll fill you in when we hit the elevator,” you said.

“Kids are resilient. She’ll bounce back,” said Frank, when you two got off the elevator down to the basement, under the first floor. This was where the “heavy stuff” happened at the S.A.

“That’s not the point, Frank. He hasn’t snapped at me like that in a long time, and he really scared her. That’s not fucking okay,” you said. “He needs to learn to control his goddamn temper.”

He sent you a knowing glance. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, I know I don’t always help. But in this case, I was justified,” you said. “Ben was being an ass.”

“Right,” Frank nodded. “It’s not at all that he’s worried about you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whose side are you on?”

The man remained silent, but his stoic face wasn’t fooling you. He’d been your friend for much too long, and he knew Ben just as well…which was why you found yourself reconsidering what happened this morning.

“You really think he has a point?” you asked. “Am I working too much?”

Frank shook his head and opened the door for you into the Surveillance Department. The two of you ventured to your office, where your quadruple monitor setup was waiting for you. He also had a desk for himself, since he often spent the long hours of your day with you.

“When you were pregnant with Lila, you were on maternity leave by now,” he pointed out.

“Because we had no idea what was going to happen,” you countered. You went to your desk and started up your computer. “I had to meet with Tonya once a week, ultrasounds and blood tests all the time, making sure Lila was healthy, that I was healthy. This time around, we have a better idea of what to expect.”

For example, you were experiencing bouts of super strength once again, but it was still intermittent. Although, you pretty much never needed coffee. Maybe the supe genes coursing through your system, thanks to your unborn son, was part of the reason why you’d been able to go such long hours for these cases.

He's already brightening up my life, you thought with a little smile, holding a hand over your lower belly.

“It’s your choice,” Frank said at last. “But it is possible that Ben cares about more than just making you a suburban housewife.”

At that, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with being a housewife, you knew. It just wasn’t…you.

Once your computer and monitors were booted up, you connected to the right channels and put on your headset.

Already you could hear M.M. bitching about keeping the weapons trunk organized, not just tossing things in haphazardly. 

“It’s a simple fucking system, Frenchie. You can at least abide by it,” M.M. said. “We don’t have time to be scratching our asses while you try to find a—”

“Hey, Bert and Ernie. Would you shut the fuck up already?” Ben groused.

Your mouth twitched at his grumpiness.

“A little testy this morning, ey guv?” Butcher remarked.

“Gargle my ball sack,” Ben replied, with an even grouchier deadpan than usual.

“Do you kiss your child with that mouth?” Frenchie teased. 

“Nah, just your mother’s French hole,” Ben slung back. You rolled your eyes. 

“All right, all right. Put the measuring tapes away,” you interrupted. “I’m online, locked on your GPS.”

“Well, if it ain’t Mrs. America herself,” Butcher drawled. “Got a lock on Slingshot’s location for us?” 

“You know it,” you replied. “Sending to the group chat now. Slingshot’s been spotted entering a strip club in Chinatown.” 

“Jeez. A little early for tits and booze. It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday,” said Hughie.

You heard Ben huff in amusement. “It’s never too early.”

You snorted at that.

“Right. I’ll remember that next time you fall asleep watching Family Feud,” you clipped back.

You heard the other guys trying not to laugh as they got into Butcher’s van. Part of you felt bad for teasing Ben, knowing he was already in a bad mood, but you were feeling a bit petty about what happened this morning.

You had to bite your lip against a smile, as you could picture the ill-tempered face your man was likely sporting.

And we’re off.

Lila wasn’t having a good day. 

She didn’t feel like coloring, and the toys just weren’t fun today.

She just didn’t want to be here. The other kids smelled like old Cheetos and feet (especially the boys).

She missed you. And though she hadn’t wanted to admit it to you, she missed Daddy too.

Lila wanted to go home…she wanted her mom. 

“I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you’d said.

Lila had a kind of plan percolating in her mind, all through the morning, and even through lunch time. She didn’t want to get in trouble, but when she’d asked Miss Sarah if she could go see you, she’d said you were at work and couldn’t come get Lila until later. 

But that’s not what Mommy said, Lila thought.  

After lunch, she laid on the napping mat with her pillow and blanket, even though she was wide awake. She didn’t want to nap with the other kids, even though Miss Sarah told her it was time to sleep. 

Again, Lila didn’t want to be bad. She didn’t want to get in trouble either, but she really, really just wanted to see you.

And you’d said it was okay to go downstairs if she needed you, right?

Lila closed her eyes while Miss Sarah was looking, but she waited until the teacher went into her office to answer a call. Then, Lila carefully put Charlie, her stuffed dog, against her pillow, tucking the blanket up to his neck. 

She crawled off her mat and snuck over to the door while Miss Sarah was distracted on her phone. Lila reached up and was just tall enough to twist the doorknob. It led her out of the room, and out into the empty hall. She then looked both ways for a clue on where to go. 

She heard a ding, and looked over at a nearby pair of elevators.

The mission went more or less according to plan. Slingshot’s abilities allowed him to stretch every part of his body like elastic. It not only made him hard to catch, but even harder to maim without collateral damage. 

A whole block in Chinatown was wrecked in the takedown, but your idea of ripping the cables from a nearby utility pole to electrocute him let Ben finally subdue the elastic supe. Kimiko knocked him out, and Butcher slapped some tight-ass cuffs on him and dragged him into the van. They returned with the rogue supe in custody. 

You were mentally exhausted from helping them track down routes to pin down Slingshot, but you were relieved to be done. You were also satisfied that another danger to society was neutralized, for now.

You took pride in your work, and you didn’t think Ben saw that, or thought it was important. You supposed that was what upset you the most about that fight with him.

Sometimes, you wondered if he would ever truly change.

You grabbed your purse and made sure to slip in your gun and taser. You left your office and greeted Frank, who had just finished making his rounds in the building with Loco’s team. Frank joined you on the way to the elevator.

“I meant to ask you, how’s Alana doing?” you asked. Alana was his daughter, who was now in college.

“She’s changed her major yet again,” he said wryly. “This time to philosophy.”

“Philosophy? That��s interesting. What does she want to do with that?” you asked.

“No fucking clue,” he replied, hitting the button for the first floor. “I just hope she gets bored and picks something practical. Like…teaching, or dentistry.”

You shot him a bemused look. “Dentistry?”

“As much money as I put into that girl’s braces, it’d be good for her to pay it forward,” Frank said, in a surly tone that reminded you of Ben. You had to laugh.

You and Frank exited the elevator and started down the hall.

You planned to touch base with Grace Mallory on the safety measures of Slingshot’s containment before he was put into custody. The idea was to house him in a prison cell that could actually hold him until he went through the legal process. 

But you’d only gotten halfway down the hall before the supe in question literally stretched past you on unnaturally long legs—in a blur of his white and blue supe suit. Your eyes widened on a gasp as you watched him head toward the elevator you’d just come off of. 

“Fuckin’ hell, we’ve got a runner!” Butcher shouted from down the hall. He along with Ben, M.M., Frenchie, Hughie, and Kimiko were rushing your way. 

It all happened so fast. 

You registered Frank shooting out a protective arm in front of you. You turned back to see the elevator doors had opened back up, and Slingshot rushed inside. He made eye contact with you.

Then his arms shot out like rubber bands. One of them knocked Frank into the far wall. You gasped and froze on reflex. 

Ben shouted your name; he was running towards you, getting closer. You were able to meet his wide eyes for a brief moment. He reached out for you, but those stretching arms closed around you first. You gasped when they slung you backwards.

You cried out in shock when your back met a surprisingly solid chest.

Meanwhile, Ben barreled the rest of the way down the hall as the elevators closed just short of his angrily furrowed face.

The stretched arms holding you were tight around your torso, making your grit your teeth as you tried to pull away. They twisted you around so you could face your captor. Or so he could see you.

His natural height was around Butcher’s—dark hair, blue eyes, angular features. He gave you what was probably meant to be a suave smile as those baby blues dragged down your body.

“Hey, baby. Nice heels,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“So that’s why they call you Slingshot,” you said, still a bit breathless. The elevator started to move. He’d chosen the top floor. “Where do you think you’re gonna go?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he snarked. “Anywhere but here. And you’re gonna help me.”

“How? Being a human shield?”

“For a start,” he smirked down at you. He backed up a step just to take another proper look at you, and he whistled lowly. He took your chin between his sweaty fingers, making you grimace when he stroked your cheek. 

“Down boy,” you said warily. “Trust me, you really don’t want to do this.”

This jackass hadn’t even realized you had a small, but noticeable baby bump.

“Why not, babe?” he grinned. “You’ve got the whole sexy librarian thing going on.” 

You heard a loud creaking sound outside the elevator doors. The compartment itself came to an abrupt stop, making the lights flicker. 

“What the fuck?” Slingshot muttered. His hold around you loosened. 

You had an idea of what just happened, with grim satisfaction. You also took advantage of his distraction and managed to slip a hand into your purse.

You pulled out your taser. Slingshot noticed and tried to grab you again, but the elevator somehow started to move in reverse, about a foot a time. It made both of you lose your balance and utter sounds of surprise.  

As soon as you regained your footing, you aimed the taser at the most sensitive place you could think of—the supe’s dick and balls.

His howls of pain were loud enough to reach Ben, Frank, and the rest of the team on the third floor. Ben’s face became edged with a smirk. 

He kept pulling the elevator cables down until the compartment’s doors were in reach. There he grabbed the doors and pulled them open with his bare hands, crunching metal under his fingers. The moment he saw you, the relief in your eyes, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out, into his arms. 

Slingshot was angry, though he managed to recover, rip off the taser’s metal prongs and wires, and evade Kimiko, M.M., and even Butcher when he slithered his way out of the elevator and around their guns. The bullets ricocheted off the walls, and off his body as they followed him down the hall.

Ben focused on you. He brushed his half-gloved hands over your shoulders and sides while he quickly looked you over. There was worry in his eyes, disguised as anger. You caught your breath and held a protective hand over your lower belly out of reflex. 

“You okay?” he said, but you were already nodding before he asked.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just get him. I’ll get Lila.” 

Ben nodded. He shot one last firm look at Frank, who was back at your side. Frank laid a hand on your shoulder as Ben took off down the hall to find Slingshot. 

“The stairs are safer at this point,” Frank said. 

“I would have to agree,” you said, steeling yourself with a breath. 

While you and Frank went downstairs to the second floor, you didn’t see the second elevator ding, its doors opening to your daughter, who ambled out alone. She looked one way down the hall, but hearing her father’s voice carrying down the opposite way, she started venturing in that direction.

If she couldn’t find you, then she’d find her dad. 

“What the hell do you mean you lost her?” you shouted at Sarah, the woman who was supposed to be looking after your daughter. “How do you lose a three-year-old at nap time? What kind of incompetent fuck are you?”

Yes, Ben had unfortunately rubbed off on you. 

Sarah was in tears by the time you were not even halfway done, but Frank calmed you down with another touch to your shoulder. You had tears of panic stinging in your eyes when you met his gaze, your mouth trembling.

“I just radioed in and put Loco and the rest of the security team on looking for Lila. She can’t have gotten far,” he said. 

“Come on! Keep up with me, old man,” Slingshot taunted at Ben. His super flexibility allowed him to keep several steps ahead, dodging any attempts to grab him and any weapons fired with easy dips and playful deflection. 

“When I get my hands on you, you flaccid fuck, you won’t know your ass from your ball sack,” Ben growled. 

But he crashed into the wall when he took a corner too hard trying to tackle the other supe. He picked himself up from the debris of crumbled wall and plaster, ignoring Kimiko’s offer of a helping hand. 

“Big fucking talk from the walking AARP commercial,” Slingshot snorted. He turned around and once again prepared to run. “Try not to shatter a hip, asshole!”

He took off down another bend in the hallway. Meanwhile, Ben shook himself off and joined the others in running after this cocksucker. Ben looked over at Butcher.

“What’s your fucking plan?” he grated out. 

Butcher seemed to have an idea growing in his mind. “What’d she do to him in that elevator?”

“Tased his dick, by the sound of it,” Ben replied. He knew what weapons you kept in your purse, and that you'd know better than to fire a gun in an enclosed elevator. Butcher snapped his fingers.

“Electricity. Bloody brilliant,” he said. He pointed at Hughie and grabbed Frenchie by the collar. “You, with me. I’ve got an idea. The rest of ya, get him pinned down.”

“Easier said than done, motherfucker,” M.M. grumbled. But he followed Ben and Kimiko to find their errant supe. 

Slingshot played a cocky game, but inside, there was fear. 

They’d caught him once, and now, this building was crawling with security, let alone the assholes chasing him.

He was panting for breath when he nearly ran straight into…a kid? 

She was wandering around, trying to open a locked door. He skidded to a stop in front of her, and she looked up at him wide-eyed. He tilted his head. She was a cute little thing with brown hair and green eyes. She wore a blouse with cartoon ducks on it over her jeans and sunshine-yellow shoes. 

“Hey, cutie. Where you going?” asked Slingshot. “Are you lost?”

“Looking for my mom,” she answered, a bit timidly. The supe gave her an easy smile; inside, he knew he’d just found his collateral, and his ticket out of here. 

“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked. 

“L…Lila,” she said. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said, with all due charm. He struck a pose, with his fists held up to his waist. “I can help you, Lila. I’m a superhero.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? Like Daddy?”

“Oh, yeah. Your dad and I are friends.” Never mind that he had no fucking clue who her daddy was. He offered her his hand. 

Now, Lila knew not to talk to strangers, but if he knew her dad… 

After a moment of reluctant indecision, she took his hand. Slingshot tapered a smirk into a more friendly smile. 

“Let’s go find him.”  

Ben was ahead of the pack, but he soon came to an abrupt stop with wider eyes. He finally found Slingshot, except he had Ben’s daughter by the hand. Slingshot wore a cocky grin as he took the child up into his arms. 

“Hey, guys. Who’s this little peanut belong to?” he asked. “Said she was looking for her daddy.” 

Ben’s breath turned to lead in his lungs. Lila’s eyes lit up with recognition when she saw him. 

“Daddy!”

Ben’s softer gaze shifted from her, hardening once it reached the other supe. 

“Let her go,” he growled lowly. 

Slingshot’s grin deepened incredulously as he laughed.

“Oh shit, she’s yours?” he exclaimed. “This’s just too fucking perfect.”

“Lila!” your shout came from behind Ben, and you stepped around M.M. and Kimiko.

Ben held out a hand to keep you at bay. He kept his eyes on Slingshot, but Ben heard your gasp. His stomach dipped, knowing your worry had to be reaching new heights as you took in the situation.

“Ben,” you uttered. 

“I’ve got this,” he said to you.

“You don’t got shit, old man,” Slingshot snapped. He shot you a smirk next. “She’s your bitch? Figures.”

“Just let her go,” you implored. You had tears brimming in your eyes. “We can negotiate your release if you promise to be more responsible.”

Ben shot you a glance then. He didn’t intend for this fucker to live, let alone walk the streets of New York again. But he supposed any bluff was worth it at this point.

Meanwhile, seeing the distress on her parents’ faces made Lila begin to break down into tears. She whined, pushing against the supe holding her, wanting to be let go. 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Slingshot cooed. “You’re just gonna take a little trip with me.”

“No!” a ragged shout tore from your throat when he took a few backward steps down the hall. 

Ben held you back from following him, all while he tensed with rage. M.M. and Kimiko were also poised to try and stop the supe. But Slingshot tightened his hold on Lila in warning.

“Back the fuck off,” he demanded. “Once I get to JFK and get my ass on a plane, maybe, maybe you see your daughter aga—”

He had to stop short, as he sensed something just outside of his peripheral vision.

It was Butcher, coming at him to swing a baseball bat at the supe’s head.

You screamed in protest, but Butcher was relying on the supe’s reflexes to dodge the bat. He wasn’t disappointed. Slingshot dodged. Though in his distraction, it gave Ben the opening he needed to step into his orbit and land a solid punch across Slingshot’s face.

It not only cracked his jaw, but also caught him off guard enough for his grip on the child to loosen. Ben grabbed his daughter and turned her away in a protective embrace.

Then Frenchie brought Slingshot down with the prongs of a massive taser clipping onto his nipples. He jolted and screamed—and went down hard on the tile floor. 

While Hughie and M.M. ushered in the rest of the security team to swarm in and take the supe into custody, you raced forward to Ben and Lila in tears.

Lila was also crying and clinging to Ben’s neck, shaking like a leaf.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. Lila whimpered and burrowed tighter against his neck.

Tears streamed down your face, but you tried to breathe through it. You rubbed her back and checked her over, making sure she wasn’t hurt. 

For Ben, the force of his relief was pounding in his ears. He briefly closed his eyes as he held his daughter closer. 

When he opened them again, he met your gaze. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was grab onto his wrist for support. He gave that to you, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. 

“Frank,” he said. His voice was a sharp command. The other man was ready to carry out whatever Ben asked. He also looked relieved to see that Lila was all right.

“Pull the car around,” said Ben. Frank nodded, and went to do just that.

Ben turned to watch in satisfaction when Frenchie and M.M. hauled up a still twitching Slingshot. Butcher slapped a pair of electroshock handcuffs on him that would keep him better contained this time—courtesy of the S.A. armory. He nodded over at Ben, and the latter returned the gesture. 

You missed it all, as you were preoccupied with comforting your daughter.

“It’s okay, honey. We’re going home,” you gently whispered to Lila, who was still hiding her face in Ben’s neck. You shared a look with him, and he gave you a short nod. His hand moved to the small of your back, both protective and possessive as the three of you moved towards the garage exit. 

There Frank waited with the car that would take your family home.

You watched Ben with the beginning of tears brimming in your eyes. You managed to hold them at bay while he set Lila down in her bed. You’d just finished giving her a bath and helping her get into her pajamas after a quiet, somewhat tense dinner. 

Lila still seemed upset in her unusually quiet mood, which you knew was understandable. Ben sat at her bedside and soothed a hand over her head, brushing her cheek with his thumb. 

“You’ve had a crazy friggin’ day, huh?” he asked. Lila didn’t want to look at him, but he encouraged it with gentle fingers brushing her chin, teasing the tip of her nose. She hinted at a smile and finally met his eyes. He smiled back at her, if more reserved. But his expression turned serious again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He could see it. She had been more or less fine throughout dinner, but now she’d turned quiet and withdrawn again. She only got like that when she was upset about something.

Lila toyed with the ear of her stuffed animal, Charlie. Frank had retrieved it for her from the daycare.

“Sorry I talked to strangers,” Lila mumbled.

You had to bite the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t cry. You came over to sit on the other side of her bed. You sniffed and shook your head, but Ben beat you to what you wanted to say. 

“You’re not in trouble, all right? We’re not mad,” he said. 

Lila’s lower lip wobbled. Ben sighed and picked her up, plopping her down in his lap. She hugged him as tight as she could and he held her back, warm and secure.  

“You know I’m always gonna be there to keep you safe. You never have to worry or be afraid,” he said. 

You carded your fingers through Lila’s hair so she knew you were there too. Usually, the roles were reversed, where you were doing the comforting and Ben was the solid support. Right now though, you just didn’t have the words. Not when guilt was eating you from the inside out.

Fortunately, your husband did have the words, after he heaved a sigh. 

“I might raise my voice, sometimes, but uh…you never have to be afraid of me either. Okay?” he said.

"Mhmm," Lila agreed.

You laid hand on Ben's arm, gently squeezing. He met your gaze, and knew what you were prodding with just that look in your eyes.

Briefly, he hesitated before he looked back down at his daughter.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he said.

Lila nodded against his chest. “It's okay.”

“Good,” he said, laying a kiss on her forehead. “All right, you ready to go to bed?”

She clung to him and made a sound of refusal. 

You were finally able to crack a smile. You leaned down by her ear. 

“You want Daddy to read you a story first?” you asked. 

Ben shot you a look at the way you volunteered him for that. He was tired and drained. 

But one hopeful, shiny look from his daughter, and he folded like a deck of cards.

Later, when Lila was asleep, you tucked her in one last time and Ben turned out the light. He kept the door cracked open, just in case she called for either one of you tonight.

Then, somehow, you and Ben ended up in the kitchen instead of the bedroom. As exhausted as both of you were, you needed this moment to decompress, with one of your old favorite pastimes…

He broke out the whiskey while you found an appropriate midnight snack, and then a seat with him at the breakfast bar. The two of you shared a companionable silence, as well as a large bag of sea salt and vinegar chips. 

That was sort of how you felt inside.

“Today can’t happen again,” Ben said, breaking the silence. 

You looked over at him, but he was looking beyond you. Maybe so he didn’t have to show you how deeply he’d been rattled. You knew him far too well for that. 

“Of course not,” you replied. And you released a sigh. “So here’s what I’m thinking. From now on I’ll work from home, so I can watch Lila until she goes to preschool.”

Ben got ready to argue, but you held up a hand. The other went to rest over your belly. You had scheduled an ultrasound with Dr. Tonya Baker tomorrow, just to make sure all was well after this ordeal.

“I already plan to take my maternity leave when this guy rolls into town,” you said with a smile. “Then, when I’m ready, and if it’s feasible, I can continue to work from home until all the kids are in school.”

Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly. He should’ve known you’d continue making this a negotiation. He set down his glass, and he reached out to slide a hand over yours, across your belly. He took in a deep breath. But when he let it go, you sensed you still hadn’t convinced him.

“Listen, I know you don’t want me to work—” you began.

“It’s not that,” he said. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said it. “It’s not.”

Despite yourself, you read the sincerity in his words. It had you pausing, waiting for him to continue.

“You know damn well…that just being around me is dangerous,” he said. “To you, and to Lila. But you being connected with Supe Affairs, working these missions, even from behind a desk, it’s a fucking risk. It’ll always be a risk.”

You considered that with new understanding. You took his hand with both of yours.

“Ben, this life, this work…it’s the same for me as it is for you. It’s all I know how to do. It’s what I’m wired for. So that’s why it’s hard for me to turn down that dial,” you explained. “But look, I understand what you’re saying. Believe me, I do. And today…today was…”

Your breath hitched as tears stung in your eyes. Ben shook his head and tugged you closer.

“Come ‘ere,” he said.

You left your chair to go to him. You stood between his long legs while he pulled you into a warm embrace. Logically, you knew that what happened today wasn’t your fault. However, part of you still felt like a failure of a mother for underestimating the risks of having your daughter at the S.A.  

You should’ve known better, you berated yourself. And yet, it was Ben’s words that stopped your train of thought.

“Today wasn't on you,” he said. "Get that thought outta your head."

He knew you well too, and this was one of those times. You wept harder against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He held you, comforted you until you began to calm down.

“Take your maternity leave early,” he said. His deep voice was a rumble. “You’re going to have your hands full with Lila when I’m not here. Unless we hire someone to help you.”

It was an idea you could consider, but who could you trust? That was the question. 

Maybe your mother? you thought. You knew she was thinking of retiring from her job in a couple of years anyway.

You sighed and slipped your fingers through Ben’s hair. Your hand came to rest on the back of his neck as you leaned against him.

When Lila came into your lives, you had been so excited to start a family that you hadn’t considered the non-physical side effects. Namely, the sacrifices you would have to make in order to keep your family safe. 

Before you met Ben, your job was your life. But today reminded you that your daughter…and your unborn son, were more important to you than your job. No matter how important that job might be for the rest of the world. 

“Let’s talk about this more tomorrow,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t think anymore.”

After a beat of hesitation, he agreed with a nod. Like so many battles before, whatever compromise you and Ben finally reached would be hard won. His hand found your cheek and caressed your skin.

“You still try my fucking patience, you know that?” he muttered.

You smiled tiredly. “Did you really expect that to change?”

He scoffed. Even so, he guided you off his shoulder so that he could claim your lips. His kiss tasted like the burn of whiskey. You met his demanding lips in kind, though you were the first one to part from him slowly. 

“I love you,” you whispered a reminder. 

Ben nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment, as if he could pause the world for a while. 

He eventually let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to be honest.

“I love you too,” he said.

With that shared understanding, he stood from his seat. He drained the last of his glass before he bent to gather you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, clinging to his shoulders.

“Time for some rest,” Ben said. There was a certain smile on his face, gentler than usual.

He forged a path towards the bedroom. You sighed and laid your head against his chest. 

For once, you didn’t argue with him.  

AN: I've been wanting to put this one out for a while now. 💚💚 I so hope you enjoyed this chapter of the BMD verse! Do you like how their little family is evolving? 😘

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Aside from the major one-shots and mini series within the BMD-verse, there are some fun Imagines and Headcanons as well. Remember to check back on the series masterlist for more BMD stories.

▶️ Break Me Down Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[suckerforcate]

making my first emily request, not read much of it yet bc i'm worried about spoilers and i'm only on season 4 (tbf have fucking blasted through it so far, watching multiple eps a day).

emily/reader, reader is hotch's little sister who isn't part of the bau but works with them occasionally. hotch Does Not Know about her and em. unclear if he even knows she's gay. any other details of it are up to you bestie, i trust you 💚

Segreto Piccolo

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1336

Warning: I think none?

Summary: Emily and you had been dating for a few months and now you're brother had found out (set around season 3 or 4)

A/n: OK, so this is the first time I've ever written for Em. I hope it's okay? Hope it's not too ooc. Would be delighted by a comment or repost!!! <3

■----------------------------------------■

“Come on, babe. He won’t rip your head off.” You nearly whined and gave Emily the best puppy eyes you could manage. You’d been dating her for a few months now, it was all still very fresh, but you really liked her. A lot.

Your brother, Aaron Hotchner, was the Unit Chief of the BAU and sometimes brought you in for cases. You worked as a children’s psychiatrist and had turned out to be very helpful on cases involving children. In any form, as victims, as witnesses and as UnSubs. On one of those cases, you had met Emily Prentiss. Truth be told, she had caught your eye immediately, but it had taken you three more cases to actually ask her out. She was amazing, not to mention absolutely gorgeous. She was smart and quick-witted, an amazing Profiler, adorable with kids and really funny. And after you had started dating you had learned that she loved with all she had. And it was wonderful.

Except for one thing. She was afraid of telling your brother. Emily hadn’t been on the team for long, and now she hooked up with his baby sister? He’d kill her. Or at least that’s what she assumed. She didn’t know Aaron like you did. He could be stoic and serious at work, but he was a sweetheart and a wonderful brother. He loved you and all he wanted was you to be happy. He might need some time adjusting, but he could never be mad for long.

“He’ll kill me, Tesoro. He’s only just warmed up to me.” She grumbled and you knew that was true. Her start on the team had been a bit bumpy. The whole situation was ridiculous. The two of you were cramped in about the smallest room in the whole building. A little storage room. You could feel some sort of utensils press into your spine, and you saw a box of pencils just over Emily’s shoulder. All in all, ridiculous to talk about something like this, at work, while hiding.

“No, he will not, Emily.” You pressed on, your hand still on her hip. Truthfully it didn’t really have anywhere else to go in this cramped space. “It might shock him a bit, but he’ll come around. Please, Em. You know how important Aaron is to me. I want him to know.” You explained what you had explained at least five times before and again gave her puppy dog eyes she rarely could refuse.

You could see her melt under your gaze and just as she wanted to answer the door to the small room opened, and you were faced with your brother’s usual serious expression. His expression didn’t change much, but you could see a subtle twitch of his eyes. His eyes wandered from you to Emily and back to you again. “Office. Both, now.” And he was gone. Emily groaned and closed her eyes.

“It’ll be fine, Em.” You tried to reassure her. You knew he’d probably be more disappointed than anything, cause you hadn’t told him. He didn’t even know you liked women. Emily let her head fall against your shoulder. “We had a nice few months, dolcezza. But I think I’m walking into my own death now.” She really had a hang for drama. Playfully you slapped her shoulder and chuckled.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come on, babe.” You said and took her hand to lead her into your brother's office. No point in hiding it now. Besides, you had the suspicion that Penelope had known right from the start and that meant that at least Derek knew as well. And JJ was perceptive, Spencer on the other hand not so much for a Profiler. But what does it matter?

You led Emily through the bullpen and up the few steps right to Aaron’s office door. It was open, and your brother was already looking at you. No need to knock, you thought. You simply stepped inside, Emily practically needing to be dragged in there behind you. You motioned her to close the door and very reluctantly she let go of your hand to do so.

Aaron got up and rounded his desk, standing in front of you, his hands in his pockets. His features softened visibly. The way they did at work only if you were around. Or if Jack came to visit. “Why didn’t you tell me you like women?” He asked, and you saw a hint of surprise on Emily’s face in the corner of your eye. She didn’t know that he didn’t know. But contrary to what she probably believed now it hadn’t been because you were scared to come out or anything. You simply shrugged.

“I thought I’d tell you if I’ll ever get a girlfriend and then I kind of never did.” You said and looked at him a bit sheepishly. “But now I do.” You said and smiled proudly, which warmed Emily’s heart immediately and calmed her immensely. Aaron even cracked a very small smile. Then he looked at Emily at the small vanished. You grabbed Em’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“You’ve been here little more than a year and start dating my sister, Prentiss?” He said and studied Emily. You could say he was profiling her. Emily opened her mouth, no doubt to defend herself. But Aaron gave her not a second. “Remember, I’m your superior. Hurt her, and you’ll fly off this team faster than you can blink.” You had to hide a small giggle. Aaron rarely played protective brother. It was a bit funny to see almost all colour fade from Emily’s face. She interrogated Serial Killers, but your brother was too much.

“Alright, Aaron. Enough of that.” You said and drew his attention back to you. He softened a bit again and pulled you into a rare hug. No words. Just a hug. And that was enough. Then he rounded his desk and sat down again.

“You're invited for dinner on Saturday.” He said right before you were out of his office. It nearly looked comedic, the way everything in Emily’s face fell as soon as she heard him. You quickly closed the office door behind you and grabbed her hands.

Emily wasn’t the relationship type. She hadn’t had a lot of them, and they had never been very long. Or at least that’s what she had told you. She was always afraid of somehow fucking it up. You squeezed her hands until she was looking at you.

“It’ll be fine. He didn’t rip your head off now, he won’t on Saturday. And Jack will love you, which is basically the way to Aaron’s heart.” It did little to calm the brunette. She swallowed hard and nodded slowly.

“What do I wear? How do I act? Do I buy him something? Wine? I’ve never done this before, dolcezza.” She rambled, and it would have been cute if she hadn’t looked so worked up.

“You’ll wear something nice. Which you always do. I promise Aaron will just be wearing a T-shirt. You act like yourself which is the way I love you. And wine is a good idea but absolutely not necessary.” You assured her, answering one question after another. You had been so concerned about calming her that you hadn’t really thought about the exact words you had used.

“Love?” She asked a bit perplexed. Maybe it was a bit early but with Emily? How could you not love her. You grinned a bit stupidly. “Of course, you idiot.” She cracked a smile at that, and you were very thankful for that. You’d walk through hell to see that smile.

“Ti amo anch'io, tesoro.” She whispered against your lips, having leaned in. The kiss was a bit sloppy, cause you were both smiling like lovesick idiots. Which you kind of were.

“Oh my god, this is adorable!” A very excited voice called through the bullpen, unmistakably Penelope’s. Emily and you broke apart, laughing softly. You stood incredibly close to each other, hands still intertwined. Both your head turned, and you weren’t surprised to see the whole team stare at you. Most of them just smiled knowingly. Spencer looked like he had missed about twenty chapters, which her kind of had. His head turned from us to JJ next him.

“Wha-?” Everyone just laughed fondly. Everything was fine.

[leth-writes]

yandere Tim Drake x meta reader

This is the first part, I'll probably post a second tomorrow!

Summary: you're a meta who struggles to be seen, and Tim thinks you're the most interesting thing he's laid his eyes on for a long time.

Warnings: none, though as always my blog is 18+.

Tim was the only person to really see you. You’d been born a meta, though your powers slowly ramped up through your early childhood; unfortunately you didn’t even get a cool power. You weren’t even fully invincible, just slightly… fuzzy. It was frustrating, how no one would look you in the eye as a kid, at least until it progressed to most people not even being able to look at your face. You felt like half a person, like a silhouette without the details penciled in.

Then, as you got older, it got worse and worse. Suddenly, your own parents were forgetting you. You’d go to get dinner only to find none left, they almost gave your bed away, most of your clothes got donated… you learned quickly to keep your personal possessions close to your chest to avoid them being given out at the first chance. They could barely remember your name even when they could see you, always messing it up by a few letters. It was even worse at school. You found yourself often having your desk given away to new students, being forced to sit on the floor and try to get your work done, and your teacher always managed to misplace your homework. Eventually, the other students would attempt to walk right through you, as though you were a ghost and not a real person.

Maybe you were a ghost, maybe there was something wrong with you. Maybe you’d died and gone to hell after a life of sin… you couldn’t imagine God being good if they’d condemn you to this living, waking, purgatory. Eventually, you’d been completely kicked out of the house. You’d come home one day, only to find your whole family gone; they’d moved without you. The realization that you’d been erased from their eyes at the snap of a figure only left you hollow.

The hunger to be seen, to be known, left a giant gaping maw in your stomach, all teeth and gnarled, twisted flesh. It was horrid, this living, breathing, monster eating away at you until you couldn’t breathe or blink, curled up in the small, ragged blanket you’d found one day after dumpster diving. You often spent hours just laying on your side in an alley, praying to be released from your suffering, only to fail over and over again. It was horrible, but it was your life.

Everything changed when you met him. You’d been sneaking into Gotham Academy, mainly to use their bathrooms to shower and change into some spare clothes you planned to steal. You took the shortcut through the library, looking for something good to read to distract you from the gawping hunger growing steadily, trying to feed it so it wouldn’t consume you whole, when you heard the clearing of a throat. As always, you assumed it was just some rich kid with a mild case of the sniffles ditching class to read magazines in the corner.

You were wrong.

Suddenly, there was a hand on your shoulder. A hand, on your shoulder! It was the first time you’d been touched in 2 years. You whirled around and threw yourself into the chest of the boy who’d grasped your shoulder, the force of you colliding with him causing him to take a step back and readjust his weight, letting out a soft “oof!”. Tears streamed down your face, the hungry maw gnawing at you practically overtaking you.

The boy let out a gentle sigh, slowly raising the still outstretched arm to pat at your back awkwardly.

“Hey, are you… okay?” He asked, tentatively.

You realized you were still clawing at him like a wounded animal, and quickly stepped away, clearing your throat and looking down.

“Sorry, it’s just… been a while since someone hugged me, I guess I forgot what it felt like?” you said sheepishly, looking down and away.

“It’s alright, I was just wondering if you were new here? I haven’t seen you around campus before…” He started hesitantly, stepping closer. Shit, you couldn’t let him know you didn’t attend the school, or he’d call the cops on you! Who knows how long you’d be left in a quiet, dingy cell, hands cuffed together, before they remembered they’d put you there!

“Yeah, yeah, I’m new. It’s my first day and I got a bit lost… Silly me, huh?” You said, laughing awkwardly and rubbing your arm.

You looked up at him for the first time. Shit. It was Tim fucking Drake, heir to the Wayne and Drake empires, and practical king of the school. He ruled with an iron fist, blackmailing bullies and solving problems; even as an outsider, you couldn’t deny the power he held. The way he acted, you knew he was aware of his power as well. He was dressed in a rumpled uniform, something that would normally be a suspendable offence, but he managed to get away with it. He was leaning back, tie loose and shirt untucked partially, hair messy and fluffy. The sun filtered gently through the arched windows, a rare sunny day, illuminating the soft brown undertones of his hair and shining on his pale, exhausted looking face. He had deep eye bags but was otherwise unblemished, and the lightest green eyes you’d ever seen, almost sickly green.

Looking at him made you uncomfortable; it’d been years since you’d been able to talk to another person. His eyes glinted and his face slackened, looking stern and serious.

“No you’re not.” He said, voice low and threatening.

“W-Yes I am! I just don’t have my paperwork in yet!” You stuttered, backing into the bookcase and holding your hands up as if to defend against a physical blow. He sighed and shook his head, once again stepping into your personal space. “No you aren’t. I would’ve recognized you. I know everyone in this school; you don’t even have a uniform on.” He continued, glancing out the window as if uninterested.

Fuck, what should you do? You could run, but you had the feeling he’d be able to catch you… Or you could try and lie again, but he did seem pretty certain… Maybe you should just confess?

“Fine. I don’t go here. I’m just… I just need to use the bathroom, okay?” You hedged, looking away as though embarassed. It was best not to confess your status as a meta, for fear of Batman showing up to arrest you; you’d heard he had a vendetta against metas for some reason.

Tim nodded, looking satisfied. “Finally, the truth. Let’s go.” He stepped away, grabbing your wrist and pulling you gently along. You dragged your feet, sputtering, trying to stop him. “where are we going?” You asked him, incredulously. “We’re going to get you some clothes, my treat, and a shower. I can’t have you wandering around like that, you’ll never fit in. Besides, you’re the only interesting thing I’ve seen all month.”

You were so excited to finally be seen you didn’t even question why he referred to you as a thing instead of a person.

[angelxd-3303]

Tw: kind of a vent, mention of depression and anxiety.

I'm sure you've all noticed by now that I haven't been posting a whole lot as of late. To be honest, I've kind of been avoiding this blog, not because of anything my followers did, but mainly because I kind of lost the meaning of my art.

I started using Tumblr exclusively to use the messaging feature to chat with my partner four years ago, but decided to share some of my art, just for fun. I wanted to make people happy, wanted to use my art and writing to not only convey how I felt and what I was experiencing, but to help those going through something similar feel heard and seen. I feel like I have achieved that, in some cases, and it makes me feel good to know that I've made someone's day, or that my writing made them feel understood.

As time progressed though, I began to feel like I had an obligation. Art and writing began to feel more like a chore, and that combined with my resurfacing depression and anxiety made it nearly impossible to even pick up the pencil. It seemed more draining than anything, and the art I did make I didn't share because it reflected my mental state in a deep and personal way.

Tldr, I'm sorry to all the people who have been waiting for updates to my stories, or more Mario content in general, or answers to their asks. It's not that I don't want to finish them, or make more content. It's just that I've realized that my lack of motivation is coming from the fact that I'm making art that I think others want, and not art that I want.

I've been rediscovering Undertale lately, reminded of how amazing the game is and how deep the storyline is, and I want to make more content for that. I'm big into weirdcore and would like to explore it as a style. I want to revisit Dhmis and expand on their story. There's so much I wanna do, but I've been holding myself back and trying to make myself as enthusiastic about Mario as I was before. The truth is, hyperfixations come and go for me, and that's ok. Mario will probably come back here and there, but I'm gonna try to focus on the stuff that I wanna do, because that's when my art is best, and when I feel the best making it. I can't tell you how satisfying it was to draw that piece with Asriel and his parents! I was into Undertale when it first blew up, my friend and I, but left when the fandom began to get toxic. It's so sad to me how disturbed it was, but now I'm much wiser with regards to internet safety, and I know to avoid certain things.

It's very nostalgic for me to rediscover the game, the music I listened to on loop years ago, the amazing artists who had a pure and genuine love for the characters, all of it.

In short, Mario isn't gone, they're just off enjoying their happy ending for awhile before they feel like visiting again. Again, I hope you all understand, and can find content you love from my blog! From now on though, I'm gonna try to avoid forcing myself to make content I don't love. Because from the beginning my art has been an escape that made me happy. If it doesn't make me happy, what's the point lol?

I love and appreciate you all so much,and I hope you can understand this word vomit. Hope you all have a lovely day.

[cookeybg]

Unexpected Cohabitation a JonDami fic

So....my chapters seem to be getting longer. I apologize, but I can't stop myself. Here's chapter 3!

Title: Unexpected Cohabitation

Main Characters: Jonathan Kent and Damian Wayne (some of the others show up too, the list is too long)

Eventual relationship: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne (my fave)

Stuff to know: No capes, reverse robins, high school AU, no smut, no Brucie Wayne, I know nothing about sports but it will show up, (aaand I think that's it, will add more if it comes up)

[In case you missed it Chapter 1 , Chapter 2]

Part 1 - Chapter 3

Jon had been distracted. The morning had started out hectic. First, Conner had taken forever to get ready and they had to run to the subway in order to get to school on time. Then, it had turned out that he had been placed in the wrong math class so he had to go into the school office and have it changed to proper math class, lucky his schedule stayed the same. Even luckier he now got to see Jay twice everyday, not including club activities every Monday. What had really been the cherry on top was when Jay stopped him after class to give his phone number. Lunch had been full of memes and texts and exasperated glances from Kathy. So, Jon was distracted when he stumbled on what felt like a tree root, his phone flying into the air and him landing on his hands and knees on the dirt floor. Miraculously his glasses stayed on his face if not a bit askew.

“Ow.” Someone groaned behind him. “Sorry!” Jon scrambled up and turned around. His wide blue eyes met glaring green ones. “Tt.” Damian tsked removing Jon’s phone from atop his head. “Do you make it a habit to throw your things at others?” “What? No!” Jon reached out snatching his phone back. “It was an accident!” Damian stared at him unimpressed passing him by without further comment. Jon could feel the heat of embarrassment heating his neck and face. He gripped his phone and cursed his decision on taking the short cut to his art class. He took a deep breath and continued on his way, Damian Wayne was long gone.

Walking into his art class Jon sat across the table from Jay, who waved and smiled at Jon when he entered but was now talking to the girl sitting next him. Jon kept his hands busy by pulling out his art pencils and sketch book he had bought the day before on his way home from school. Jon took discreet glances towards Jay wore a light blue hoodie, it made his pink hair standout and it made him look warm and fluffy. Jon wanted to hug him. “Hello everyone!” Ms. Worle clapped her hands, getting the whole class’s attention. “I have great news today! After many attempts, I was finally able to convince my favorite prodigy to become my T.A.” She clapped her hands again, looking at the door, her white curly hair bouncing in excitement. A loud chatter filled the classroom when Damian Wayne stepped through the door. He glanced around the room, his green gaze locked onto Jon’s blue. The embarrassment from early crawled up Jon’s neck and he quickly looked away. Damian, clearly deciding to pay him no further attention looked back at Ms. Worle, his expression softening. “Ms. Worle, I wouldn’t call myself a prodigy.” Damian said. “Nonsense, please humor this old lady.” Ms. Worle waved away Damian’s words. “You are certainly not old.” Jon wanted to gag, all Damian had to do was kiss the back of the teacher’s hand and the whole charade would be complete. Jon noticed that Jay sat up in interest a small “No way,” escaping his mouth. Jon bit his lip not liking the attention Jay was giving the Wayne. Jay’s sparkling eyes locked unto Jon a wide excited smile graced his face. Jon could feel heat burning his ears, Jay had such a cute smile.

“Jon!” Jay whispered excitedly, leaning forward as far as he could and covering the side of his mouth in an attempt at secrecy. “This is huge! Damian is going to our T.A.!” “I don’t see the big deal…” Jon frowned. Jay looked at him in surprised, he opened his mouth to say something else but Ms. Worle cut him off. “Now, Now, let’s all settle.” Ms. Worle’s face was slightly flushed. “You will be sketching the person sitting across from you and Damian will be assisting all those who need help.” “Try not to make my forehead too big.” Jay teased. “Try not to make my ears too big and we have a deal.” Laughed Jon. It was hard drawing Jay. Every time he looked up at him his heart would race and sometimes their eyes would meet and the butterflies in Jon’s stomach would take flight. It was distracting and difficult to not let his day dreams wander. It didn’t help that Jon wasn’t a very good artist to begin with and kept erasing the same eye he had been trying to draw for the last eight minutes. “Tt.” Jon’s shoulders tensed. When he turned, his nose nearly collided with a brown jaw. He took in a breath of surprise and caught a whiff of something sweet and earthy. Damian’s eyes locked onto his and Jon pulled away slightly, heart pounding in his chest. “May I?” Damian glanced at Jon’s hand. Jon nodded stiffly and watched as Damian’s elegant fingers plucked the pencil out of Jon’s grip, his fingers lightly grazing his. “You need guide lines on the face if you want to make everything symmetrical.” Damian spoke lowly. Jon had to lean in a bit to hear him clearly due to his loud classmates. Jon watched as Damian lightly drew a couple of horizontal lines and a vertical line down the middle. He then started drawing the outline for the second eye. “Drawing is just a series of shapes. Look at Jay’s eyes,” Damian gestured towards Jay and Jon could see that Jay was keenly paying attention to the both of them, “draw a circle for the iris and then fill in the detail like the curve of his eyelid and notice the delicate sweep of his brow.” Damian’s eyes were intense as he pointed out aspects of Jay’s face. Jay fidgeted but did not look away a blush darkened his cheeks and his lips were parted in awe. Jon gripped the table trying not to show any jealousy. “Nothing is a straight line; his soft wavy hair, his lips and the curve of his chin.” Damian paused waiting for Jon’s understanding. “Thanks.” Jon said sulkily. Damian placed the pencil on the sketchbook and moved on. Jon’s back and side prickled uncomfortably in Damian’s absence. Damian helped a couple of girls, they turned red and chattered amongst themselves after he left them. But Jon was paying attention to them, he watched Jay stare after Damian his face slightly red and his gaze determined. Did Jay like that jerk? Was Jon going to lose Jay to Damian? Jon grimaced and looked down at his sketch. Damian’s pencil marks looked light and easily erased. The parts he had drawn as guides looked better than the dark lines Jon had drawn and markedly improved the sketch itself. He sighed and did his best to follow what he had been taught.

After class Jay sidled next to Jon looking behind them at Damian who was speaking with Ms. Worle. He nudged Jon’s shoulder with his own as they left the classroom and Jon got butterflies in his tummy from Jay’s proximity. “You are so lucky that Damian helped you!” Jay tried to whisper but failed. “Yeah, I guess.” Jon tried not to roll his eyes. “He must be pretty good at drawing.” “Pretty good at-“ Jay laughed. “Jon. Damian has won awards for his art.” “So, he’s like actually talented?” Jon asked. Jay stared at him and stopped to type something on his phone. Once he found what he was looking for he showed Jon an article from the Gotham Gazette complete with a picture of a painting. Jay clicked on the picture so that Jon could see it zoomed in. “He won this prestigious art award last year and donated the winnings to charity, since you know, he doesn’t need the money.” Jon took the phone and looked at the painting. It displayed a desert oasis, the palm trees swaying in the breeze seemed to come to life. The sand colored buildings contrasted beautifully with a bright blue sky and green vegetation. In the distance a storm brewed making the birds take flight. The ground closer to the buildings was slightly tinted in a rust colored red. It was beautiful but it somehow made Jon feel as if danger was just around the corner despite the tranquility of the scene. The plaque next to the painting said it was an oil on canvas, titled “Home.” “But, he’s the baseball captain.” Jon said dumfounded. “He’s also been winning art awards since he was a kid. He’s won so many he’s probably lost count.” “How can he be good at so many things? Isn’t he the top of his grade?” “It’s awful, isn’t it?” Jay said smirking. “I can’t wait to interview him!” Jon watched as Jay waved and left him behind. What if his fears were true? If Jay didn’t like Damian now he certainly would after he interviewed him. Kathy was right, Jon needed to confess, ASAP!

I hope you enjoyed! The next chapter is going to be my favorite so I hope you're as excited as I am. XD

[teaandransacking]

could you write something with jealous lockwood?

Ask and you shall recieve.

(needy! Lockwood anon. I have got your request but it might be a long one, I want to take my time over it. I'm looking forward to it).

Is it your imagination, or does Lockwood seem grumpier whenever Kipps is around?

Welll, no, of course he is grumpier, but even more so if Kipps is near your person, or, Heaven forbid, you mention the Fittes agent.

The whole gang of you have been working on more and more cases, since Barnes has found out how successful you are as a group.

You can take or leave Kipps. But one night at home, when George is muttering about how annoying all of Fittes are, you say, "They aren't that bad. And Kipps isn't the demon you make him out to be."

Lockwood's head snaps up from where he sits, writing on the Thinking Cloth. "What?"

"I mean, he's just another agent trying to make it by. Like us. He's always been friendly to me."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Lockwood's knuckles go white on the pencil he's holding.

He shoves his chair back, tosses the pencil down. "Excuse me."

And he's gone in a few footsteps, the kitchen door banging behind him.

You look at George, who shrugs.

You give it ten minutes, finish your tea, do a little washing up, then, you search him out.

He's in the library, reading, but he looks up when you enter.

"Lockwood?"

"Hmmm." He turns his attention back to the book. His tone is bland, like you're a stranger.

Or maybe, you think, like he's trying to hide his feelings from you. You wish he wouldn't do that.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course. You live here, too."

You perch on the armchair beside his.

"What was that all about?" You prod. "When I mentioned Kipps?"

You watch his fingers go tight on the edges of the book. "You are free to join Fittes. If you want. We both know they'd have you. You're brilliant." He closes the book and inhales deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. His next words come out a little strangled. "You could be with Kipps all the time, then."

You let out a startled laugh. "Why would I want to be with him at all?"

He scoffs. "You said it yourself; he's always nice to you. Maybe you want that."

Oh my God, he's jealous.

You should have realised. Now you think about it, it's been written all over his face for weeks now.

Boys are idiots, you think with a small smile.

"Lockwood, the only thing I want is for you to understand that I'm staying. For many reasons, but perhaps most of all because if there's one single person I want to be with all the time..." You stand up, bend down, get right in his face... "It's you."

Understanding dawns and his eyes so dark and soft as he lifts his hand to cup your face. "I was so afraid-"

"The great Anthony Lockwood? Afraid?" you tease, but keep your tone gentle.

He smiles. "Wasn't much for fear, until you and George," he murmurs. "Loving people makes you afraid."

Love? You're so delighted and surprised that you can't resist kissing him. He kisses you back, all fervour and need, and then he drops the book and you climb into his lap, and neither of you leave the library for a good long time.

[heyidkyay]

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

Part Twenty-Four - Part A

A/n: PLEASE READ!

The next two updates will come in parts A and B and are flashback chapters! SO there is nothing current happening, but they are really important to the story and have a lot of details which have been mentioned in earlier parts of the fic that weren't delved into. They're also incredibly long, this one alone is around 20k words, so just a warning! I love them though and hope you will too:)

Part B will be similar to A and will be out soon. 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, mentions of abuse and implications of sexual assault, alcohol and drug use.

Masterlist

I groaned for what felt like the umpteenth time, arms crossed over my chest as I slumped against the brick archway leading to the townhouse's front door. My school shirt was probably all creased now but I knew mum would have a right fit if I walked back home to change- we were already running late.

“Vicky!” I shouted out again, growing tired of waiting. “I swear, if Cook catches us at the gates I’m blaming you!”

I heard a loud bang sound from above me and glanced up to find that the bane of my existence had stuck her horn out of the upstairs window. “Would’ya shut up with your whining, the neighbours will have my head if you carry on- oh, and tell me where I left my essay for Herrins last night? I can’t find it anywhere!”

She was dressed, which was as much as a shock as it was a relief, but seemingly had yet to sort her hair out which could prove to be problematic. “Christ, Vic! It’s on your dresser, remember? You stuck it between the mirror and your jewellery box so that you’d be able to find it this mornin'.” I told her, the sentence followed shortly by a mumbled sigh, “What good it did though.”

“Oh shit, yeah!” Vicky gasped and I watched as she spun her head back round and caught sight of the scribbled essay- exactly where I said it’d be. “Cheers, babe. Just be a sec!”

Then she was gone again. I chuckled lowly to myself and shook my head. It was always the same with her, never knew when she was coming or going, but she was loyal to the very end. And pretty much the only proper mate I had.

Vicky Taylor was practically my other half. We’d met in year three and I’d truly hated her at first. Seeing how she’d replaced Emma Alden, who’d moved down to Wales that previous summer, in the seat beside mine. 

She’d had this pretty pencil case too lined with glitter pens and a rainbow sharpener, I’d been so fucking jealous of it that I pretty much shrugged off any attempt she’d made at conversation. Up until Ernie Sutton came over at least, acting like the eight year old twat he was, emptying the contents of her pencil case all over the floor, only to then stomp all over it. I’d gone mental at him, taken the milk carton we’d all been handed and upturned it on his head. He’d stunk the whole day and Mrs Wilkins had been such a bitch about it, but Vicky, she’d just grinned a teary smile and nicked another carton from the trolley for me as a thanks. 

We’d been as thick as thieves since.

“She still not down yet?”

Pulling myself out of my reminiscent thoughts, I glanced up right into the eyes of Jamie Taylor, Vicky’s older brother who was in the year above us. He was leant up against the door frame, shirt half-untucked and with a lopsided smile on his face. Jamie was fit to say the least, every girl at school thought so, me among them, but he was off limits. Or I liked to think of it that way, like I'd ever have a real chance with him. Jamie only ever looked at me as Vic’s best mate anyway, 'it's like having another annoying little sister' he’d once said.

I rolled my eyes and put up the front I was so used to faking around him- never would I ever let it slip that I was in any way interested in him, least I’d be shunned from the Taylor household for the rest of eternity. And that was the very last thing I wanted to happen. 

“What do you think, smartarse? You’ve lived with her most of your life. When is she not running late?”

Jamie just chuckled, blue eyes squinting as the looked me over. “Still got five minutes before the bell goes.”

“It’s a ten minute walk, J.”

“Exactly, have to make a run for it then, wontcha?” 

I couldn’t hide the slight quirk my mouth made upon hearing his reply, but merely shook my head in turn. “Can’t, be late either way. Wanna stop in by the bakery before, ain’t had breakfast yet.”

He pursed his lips then and I regretted having said anything at all when he spoke up again, “Your mum-”

“Yup.” I cut him off and pivoted to stare off down the road, acting unbothered as I continued to wait for his sister. Though I guess I should’ve been used to it by now. My mum was always putting everyone else above me. Who cared if there weren’t enough milk in the fridge for me? Who did it hurt when her newest fling would sit himself down in my dad’s armchair and read the morning paper whilst starkers? Just count your lucky stars you didn’t get slapped about by this one! At least not yet.

“Look, Y/n,”

Never had I ever been so thankful for Vicky, who thundered down the stairs before he could get another word out and barged past Jamie to make it through the doorway, essay in hand. She grinned at me, “Ready, babe?”

“For the last half hour, yeah.”

She rolled her eyes at me, amused, then linked her arm in mine as she pulled us both down the garden path. I only glanced back once I heard the front door slam behind us to find that Jamie was still wearing that frown expression and following.

Vicky, you had to know, was one person that could talk forever. And I meant forever. If the Olympics ever decided that they wanted to implement an event where the only talent you had to have was to be able to speak for hours on end, then Vic would be the very first person the English Team would call. It was honestly tough to keep up with her at times, so most times I was pretty content to just listen.

She ranted the whole way to the bakery off of Lloyds Street, not allowing Jamie nor I to get a word in, and proceeded to question Old Man Langford who owned the small shop the moment she spotted him. I ordered my usual from the girl stood at the til, who wasn’t much older than us really, and Jamie prattled off his to her too before I could pull out my purse, already holding a fiver out towards her.

“Jaim-”

But my voice was cut off by Jamie calling over to his sister to ask what she wanted. A bacon sarnie and an orange juice. He nodded to the cashier who took his money with a shy smile and handed him back his change.

“I could have got mine.” I mumbled to him the second the girl got to work on pulling the order together.

Jamie snorted, “Think the word you’re looking for there, love, is thanks.”

I fish mouthed. Love. He’d never called me that before. Not once. And the singular word rewired my entire brain.

Jamie continued on talking though, none the wiser to my slowly crumbling interior, up until the girl at the counter handed him a paper bag and a to go cup we hadn’t ordered.

“On me.” She told him, flashing him a flirty smile. 

Jamie grinned and glanced back at me for a brief second. “Cheers.” He said and must’ve given her a wink or something in return because she flushed. I fought not to roll my eyes at the pair of them and picked the coffee cup out of Jamie’s hand before trailing my way over to Vicky and Mr Langford.

“Lovely to see you, Mr Langford! How’s Sheila?” I asked, smiling away even as I felt a pair of icy daggers burn into the side of my head. Old Man Langford smiled at me fondly and told me that his daughter was doing just fine, working hard in the city now, though she was due a visit, which made me chuckle before we wrapped our conversation up and all bid him our goodbyes.

“Oi, I think you’ll find that was meant for me.” Jamie commented as soon as our feet touched the pavement outside and the shop bell stopped rattling above us. 

“Hm?” I questioned, feigning confusion whilst still sipping away at the warm drink. The girl might’ve been a terrible flirt but she could make a decent cuppa. “Not sure what you mean.”

Vicky snorted whilst we started the trek up the big hill which led to the school gates. “She’s always popping in something extra whenever he goes in there." She said, "Fancies the pants off him, mum claims.”

“Can you really blame her?” Jamie smirked just before he stole the cup back out of my hands, gleeful eyes finding mine when he took a large swig. “I mean, have you seen me?”

I narrowed my eyes and pinched at his hip, startling him enough to allow the cup to slip free from his hand without much of a fight. 

“Oi!”

“Every man reckons they’re God’s gift to women. What’s so different about you then?” I quipped, loving the way Jamie’s gaze lingered on me as I took a sip from the cup we’d shared. He was walking backwards now, just in front of Vicky and I, head turning back every so often, school bag slung over his right shoulder as he fought to defend his honour.

“I’m the real deal, me! The whole package. What girl wouldn’t want me?”

I rolled my eyes but almost choked when Vicky laughed outright and gave him a snarky reply.

“Y/n, for one. So jump down off that high horse of yours, J, you’re no David Beckham.”

I giggled at the vengeful glare Vicky received in turn. If only she knew.

“Take that back!” Jamie spat with a pointed finger, though he was wearing a mirthful smile. He combed a hand across his hairless chin and gave us a pouty pose, “Beckham lookalike me. Just wait, I’ll be playing for United one day.”

“So you say.” Vicky laughed before turning towards me with a conspiratorial grin, “Dad says he’ll be lucky to work in the grocers after the results he got on his last exams.” 

“Vicky!” 

The girl merely cackled when her brother drove her back with a shove, “What! It’s true, ain’t it?”

Jamie merely huffed and rolled his eyes at the girl, not glancing my way as we continued to walk on. The gates weren’t too far, could see the spikes which sat atop them now.

“Swear, you boys are all so touchy.” Vicky murmured with a sly grin she couldn’t quite hide.

Jamie sneered at her, contradicting it by flicking her arm playfully. “Yeah, and you girls are all so annoying.”

“Oi.” I cut in, still happy to just sip my tea whilst they bickered but unable to let that slip. “I’m a delight, thanks.”

“So you are, Darlin’. So you are.” Jamie grinned at me and jumped around Vicky to lay a loud and sloppy kiss to my cheek.

“Jamie!” Vic shouted, slapping his bicep and shoving him away from me as soon as she got the chance. Jamie laughed loudly in response, shooting me a wink as he dove further from her swinging arms. “I’m so sorry, babe.” She added when she turned to me, then glanced back towards Jamie with a wrinkled nose, “God, you are such a prat!”

But I just waved her apology off, forcing the butterflies I’d felt flutter deep deep down as I took another long sip. Jamie waggled his brows at me whilst Vicky just huffed, then continued on with whatever she’d been saying, something to do with Mr Langford’s wife.

I watched him quietly and cocked a brow of my own, he was skirting around all sorts of lines here, ones I couldn’t quite decipher. He smirked and there was something more to it, something I couldn’t make out.

We made it through the gates soon enough and I was thankful for it- although we were nearing half an hour over first bell. Jamie nor Vic seemed to care though, the latter only just starting in on her sandwich.

“Who’s the new lad?” Vicky suddenly asked then, mouth half full, and I followed the direction of her gaze to find a lad wearing headphones slumped against the low brick wall outside the main office. “He’s sorta fit, don’t you think?” She commented, tilting her head as she took him in.

He was, sort of. But I could make out much of him, he was slouched in his position and had a horde of dark blonde curls hiding the top half of his face.

I hummed my confirmation, eyes watching him from over the top my cup. Jamie scoffed.

“He can barely even see what he looks like with all that hair, how can you two?”

My mouth tugged upwards on its own accord whilst Vicky snorted at her brother. “Says you, who spends the better part of an hour in front of the bathroom mirror each mornin’.”

“Ha.” Jamie replied with a forced smile.

I shrugged, interrupting the two. “Hair’s what makes him fit, J. Those curls are proper lovely.”

Vicky grinned around another mouthful of bread, “Ain’t they just? I wanna run my hands through it.”

“Bet he’d appreciate the bacon grease.” I teased her, but was inclined to agree. 

“Oh, he’d love it!” Vicky retorted, rather loudly and with a laugh that made me chuckle too. Jamie just rolled his eyes at the pair of us as we all waltzed towards the English block. 

“You two are dead blind.” He told us, fiddling with his own hair now.

“Ah, don’t worry, Taylor. You’re still number one in our hearts.” I appeased him with a mirthful grin, which made Vic cackle loud enough for anyone near to hear. Which unfortunately included Mr Cook.

“You three! Late again, I see!” The deputy head barked as he came storming out the main building towards us, “My classroom this lunchtime. Be there or it’s a suspension- that means no footie, Jamie Taylor.”

Jamie’s jaw ticked but he nodded, “Sorry, sir.”

“Good lad, now get to class.” Mr Cook demanded, hands on his hips as he attempted to corral us through the school's doors. As he did though, my eyes found an unfamiliar pair observing us from not too far away. I smirked at him when he realised he’d been caught and waved before ducking behind the heavy entrance doors.

— 

It was the last place I wanted to be. But here I was, making my way over to the library where Mrs Trench, my maths teacher, told me I could find the tutor she’d since assigned me.

It wasn’t as though I was thick or nowt. I wasn't. Just maths made my head hurt sometimes. Enough to have made my marks drop by an unreasonable amount. 

I was alright with the numbers bit, the multiplying and the dividing I could do quicker than most off the top of my head. But then they just had to go and add letters. And that had fucked me right up, hadn’t it. 

I huffed to myself at the very thought of it as I trudged my way through the empty halls. School had already let out and I was still stuck here whilst Vicky and the rest of the girls were set to head off into town later on- there was a new record shop that’d just opened up and everyone was buzzing to see if it was worth the wait.

The library doors creaked like they always did when I pushed through them, as old as everything else in this forsaken place, and the librarian glanced up at me through her oval glasses when I walked by the counter. We shared our usual nod, having started somewhat of a routine by now. She was an alright woman, let me camp out in the classics section when I was skiving off Pe and didn’t bitch when sung quietly to myself. So, better than alright, I supposed.

But this school was a wasteland, most days you actually had to goad the teachers into teaching you properly. Although some were worse than others, but a lot of them just wanted their pay check at the end of each month.

Mrs Turner, my maths teacher, wasn’t amongst them though, she was all about the marks, having the best test scores. In truth, she just wanted a raise, had been trying for one ever since I’d joined. That was the only reason why she’d set this whole thing up. 

I knew who I was looking for when I walked in. He was a lad in Jamie’s year, so only a year older than me, but his face was well known seeing as the boys he hung about with tended to stir quite a bit of trouble when they pleased. Jamie had also mentioned his name once or twice in passing, they were mates, but not overly friendly. J tended to stick close to the other lads on the football team. So I knew who he was when Mrs Trench had given me his name on a piece of parchment. 

I caught him sat in one of the far tables in the very back, head buried in a book ‘reading’ but his foot was a dead giveaway to the fact that he had no clue what he was even looking at, tapping away to some sound or other. I spotted the wire to his mp3 as I approached and smirked down at him.

“Oi.” I startled him, using a deep voice to mimic that of Deputy Cook’s. The lad jumped out of his seat as his head snapped up towards me, almost dropping his mp3 in the process. I grinned at the reaction, withholding a chuckle as I looked him over, “Sorry, couldn’t help myself when I saw you. I’m Y/n, Mrs Trench said she spoke to you about helping me out in maths?”

The boy just laughed, looking a lot less tense now that the threat of Mr Cook had rapidly disappeared. He didn’t seem all that annoyed by the childish trick as he looked up at me either. “She did. I’m Adam, by the way. But most people just call me Hann.”

“Yeah? Why’s that then?” I asked him as I took the chair opposite and grabbed my textbook form my bag.

“Dunno. Just always been that way I suppose. Helps that it’s my last name too.” Adam told me with an easygoing smile.

I chuckled, “Seems so. What do you want me to call you then?”

“Either, I don’t mind.” He retorted with a small shrug, wrapping his mp3 up and tucking it back into his blazer pocket. “You’re Jamie’s mate, ain’t you?”

Jamie’s mate… I didn’t know about that. Jamie tolerated my presence I guessed, when I was hanging about with Vicky or staying round his. Though we had spoken here and there without her around. Mainly just teasing when we’d pass each other by in the halls, or stopping to talk when our lunchtime tables intertwined. 

“‘Spose.” I answered him, “So you any good with maths then, or is it all talk?”

Adam didn’t seem to mind my answer, nor the swift change of subject, merely laughed lightly and got to talking about the topic. We started off on the easier tasks of the lot, which I made progress on pretty quickly, then we tried our luck at the different theorems there were. I quite enjoyed his company honestly, he was witty and funny in a way that most lads weren’t. He could joke about and then be serious without it being so black and white.

By the time we’d spent a couple of our Wednesday afternoons together, he invited me out ‘round to this small party one of his mates was throwing. Said I could bring a friend if I wanted. And so I’d gone, only because Adam had hastily become a new friend. He hadn’t shied away when we saw one another around school, approached me in the fields when he’d spotted me to tell me about this new record he’d found and reckoned I’d like, and even walked home with me some days after last lesson had ended when our other mates were busy or had detention.

The small party really had been just that. A nice little gathering of about fifteen or so people just mulling about in the garden of some big fuck-off house Adam’s mate supposedly lived in. I’d brought Vicky along with me, but lost her the second she’d spotted a mutual friend, although I was ultimately saved by Adam who gifted me a massive smile when he saw me. He greeted me happily with a beer in hand and took me off to get a drink of my own whilst we chatted away about this new album that’d just been released. 

It was that night that most things changed for me, because it was that night that I properly met Adam’s friends, or his ‘bandmates’ as he called them. Ross and Elliott were already halfway to drunk when we were first introduced but Ross tugged me under his arm once Adam had given him my name, claiming that he’d been looking for a new best mate, seeing as his old one had been driving him mad. And I’d just gone along with it, perfectly content in his playful company. 

Elliott had been alright too, he’d spoken with us for a bit before some girl had caught his eye and the pair of them had wandered off to some place dark. Adam’s good friend Matty though was the one that really caught my attention, because how could he not? He’d come bounding over to us, all dark curls and this massive shit-eating grin on his face, he’d had a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth and, without a care in the world, had plopped himself straight down in my lap. 

Matty was loud, eccentric, but oh so lovely. Even though he could be a bit of a pretentious twat at times, too stubborn for his own good really, I still found I rather enjoyed his presence. It was miles different to what I was used to. 

He seemed to like me alright too, or so I believed, but only because of the way he'd gone off on Sam McKinnon when the lad had wandered past us, the spat had made me realise rather quickly that you’d definitely know if Matty didn’t like you.

We’d spent the rest of the evening laughing and passing drinks around. I got to know the lot of them rather well, and so, when I claimed that that had been the night that things changed for me, I wasn’t lying. Because afterwards, the four lads seemed to take me under their wing, even when I passed my maths exam and Adam no longer had to tutor me. 

Vicky didn’t seem to mind it much either, me wandering off with them, seeing as she’d just started dating Tony Watts, who was far too into himself for my taste though he drove his own car. And the boys, although a year older, became a bit of a lifeline for me. I bonded with them in ways I hadn’t with Vic. It was just so different with them and we’d all clicked so instantly that it was hard to even verbalise.

It was actually a couple months after I’d finally gotten settled into my new found arrangement of friends that it had all begun to shift again. Elliott, it seemed, had other priorities, he’d formed a band of his own long before the other boys had even thought of trying out one of their own, and had gotten busy with it- as well as his longtime girlfriend. So once the guys had realised that they were now a lead singer down, Matty had stepped up and away from the drum kit to take over. A smart move if I do admit, Matthew Healy was not meant to be boxed behind a rowdy instrument, and seeing him up front and centre only proved that. He preformed up there.

So what with Matty being frontman, that meant that the drums now had no owner. Matty had tried to make it work for a short while, but it just didn’t sound the same, too much going on for it all to fall correctly in time. And so the lads decided to ask about, look for someone who might fit in alright with the rest of them.

It was me that found that person though. Which was surprising, seeing as though most would believe that I’d be the last person you’d expect to do so. 

It had happened on a Tuesday morning actually, it’d been pissing it down outside but the guys had all wanted to head on out to smoke a fag behind the shed before next lesson. I’d passed, preferring to stay dry rather than get a quick fix. So I’d just dropped them off by the back doors before wandering back the way I’d came, down by the music block.

I’d paused the second I’d heard it, the rapid hit of a drum. I’d gotten far too used to instruments since hanging about during the guys’ band practices to not know something good when I heard it. And this, this was unlike anything I’d heard the boys play before.

I stood there, outside the door to music room 3, for a short while, just listening. Before the sound had slowly dwindled out, forcing me to push my way through the room’s only entrance and exit.

The music rooms were typically quite small, most people used them on days like today to mess about in, or hide from the hordes of people acting like dickheads. Music room 3 was where the school’s only drum kit was housed though.

As I forced my way inside, I halted at the unexpected sight that greeted me.

“Um.” The room’s only occupant mumbled in surprise.

“You’re the new boy.” I immediately stated, staring down at the curly haired lad I’d seen earlier in the year that one morning I’d been late.

“Um.” The boy said again, causing me to frown.

The door closed swiftly behind me as I stepped further inside, his eyes darted towards it, “That all you say then?”

He looked back at me, narrowed gaze stuck on me now, and as he tilted his head I took note of the drumsticks he held in his hands. “No.”

“Oh so just the two then?” I teased and was relieved when he cracked a small smile. “You’re sick by the way,” I complimented, “Hope you don’t mind but I was listening outside for a while.”

Shock seemed to colour his expression as he glanced between me and the door.

“I heard you, just as I was walking past.” I explained, fingers reaching out to fiddle with the cymbal’s metal edge. “You’re good. Really good.”

“Thanks.” He murmured, still looking unsure about my entire presence.

I grinned in turn, “Where d’you learn to play?”

“Seattle.” He said.

My brows lifted in surprise, “Like America?”

He hummed his ascent.

“Wow. What’s it like over there?”

I’d never been, but Matty had. He’d said it was brilliant. Wanted to live out there one day, buy a big house with enough rooms for us all. 

The lad shrugged. “Different. Louder, I guess.”

Not much of a talker. Or maybe just, shy?

“Cool. Um so, I actually might have a reason for barging in here…” I admitted, looking up at him from under my lashes. 

He quirked an eyebrow in retort, but otherwise remained silent. 

This music business was already proving to be difficult.

…

I’d invited the lad round to Matty’s that same afternoon, knowing that they’d already arranged a practice session there. 

I’d simply just torn a bottom corner from a page in my sketchbook and written down the address, told him to meet me there at five if he felt like playing something proper.

I hadn’t even caught his name honestly, let alone gotten an actual answer as whether or not he’d come. But I was hopeful. This band meant everything to the guys, they worked so hard and got so much out of it, and if this kid could really play the drums they way I thought he could and was down to join then it would definitely set them apart from the rest.

I was sat on one of the beanbags Matty had set up in the garage when the boys slowly trailed in after me one by one, Hann tinkering with his guitar strap, Matty with a drink in hand, Ross wolfing down the last of Denise’s shepards pie.

Matty approached me first, throwing himself down onto the large cushion beside me, kicking his legs up over my knees. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Hm?”

“I asked what the matter with you was.” Matty repeated, nudging my shin with the toe of his trainer as he drawled his sentence, making out like I was slow. I scowled and flicked his calf.

“Sod off, would you?”

“Ooh, touchy today, aren’t we?” Matty snickered, paying no mind to my ever narrowing eyes whilst he sipped away on his can, “You on your period or summat?”

“I swear to all heavens, Healy. Just ‘cause a girl won’t give you the time of day, doesn’t mean she’s on her period!” I huffed with a roll of my eyes. Fucking boys, I swear.

“Nine times out of ten it does though.”

He cackled when I thumped his thigh, all too happy to have gotten a rise out of me. But that was just Matty, and the way we often worked.

Since meeting the guys, I’d bonded with them all in different ways. Adam was the one I'd tend to drift towards for conversation, to chill and just be seen- if I ever needed a problem solving then he was my man, always there to help. 

My feelings towards Ross resembled that of a little sister's, we bickered like nothing else but laughed louder than most whenever we were together. If anything were to happen to me I knew he’d be the first person at my back, defending me to the very end. 

Matty and I though, we just connected on a whole other level. I was the Bonnie to his Clyde. Constantly in and out of each others pockets, and forever causing mayhem. He’d quickly become my best friend- though I’d never admit it to him. We shared a similar likeness that most didn’t typically get. I could tell him absolutely anything and knew he wouldn’t judge me, and he’d always be there to pick me back up whenever life kicked me down.

We were almost always together, even with the year difference in school, enough that most believed that we actually had something going on. But we didn’t. Never had. And although our dynamic was different to that of Ross and I, I was quite sure that it would stay that way. Matty was a ladies man through and through, a player of sorts- though he made it well known to anyone who asked. He had too much energy to be confined to just one person, one relationship. Me on the other hand, well, I’d never gotten very far with anyone really. But I knew that I’d want something more than just a quick shag here and there, or a secret affair shared with a handful of others. I wanted dates and flowers, late night talking and someone to simply sweep me off my feet. I think deep down Matty understood that too. It’s why we worked.

“Come on then.” Matty prodded my side, relaxing effortlessly in the beanbag beside mine. “You gonna tell me what’s got you so worked up then or what?”

“’S nothing, Matt.”

“Don’t give me that.” He retorted, rolling his eyes at me before he started routing around in his jean pocket for something or other. “Got a joint on me if you want it. Might mellow you out, babe.”

I inhaled slowly, I knew that I’d been on edge the whole walk back to Matty’s, but had tried to hide it as best as I could, especially when I saw that Denise was home. But it’d been a struggle. The guys were counting on someone to pull through for them and I wanted so badly to help. It’s why I had yet to tell any of them about my earlier encounter, fearful that if I let it slip and the lad was a no-show that I’d be to blame.

I was used to burdening the blame. But never with these guys.

I blinked back to the present just as a prerolled joint dangled above my nose, I snatched it up quick and settled back into the seat before Matty could rescind the offer.

I knew better than to ask Matty for a light though, he was forever losing the daft things. Besides, I’d taken to carrying round one of my own for a couple years now. It’d been my dad’s. 

I pulled the old metal lighter out from my back pocket and flicked it open. It was one of those hefty ones, sterling silver and with a hinged lid. This particular one had a slight dent in the side that my dad had always claimed protected his own father from taking a bullet to the hip. My grandad was from way down south, the east end mainly, and had apparently been involved in all sorts. He’d gotten himself locked up four months before my dad was actually born though, and had only really met him once he’d turned fourteen. 

They were both gone now. Six feet below and buried in soil. Though my nana was still kicking about, only she lived in London so I didn’t get to see her all that often. Only whenever mum grew sick of me, I supposed.

I lit the joint with a practiced ease and let myself relax as I drew in a lungful.

“Oi, sharing’s caring and all that.” Ross said from across the room, mouth still full of minced beef.

I snorted in amusement, “Yeah when you’ve finished eating, maybe then we’ll talk.”

“Rude.” He grumbled and when I laughed, Matty took the opportunity to take a drag himself.

“Thought you said I could have it?”

“Sharing’s caring.” Matty mimicked Ross and I rolled my eyes, unable to hide my small smile.

It was in that next moment that my life really did change though, because it was that moment that things truly started to shift for me.

A knock sounded from over by the garage door and in a simultaneous motion we all seemed to glance our heads towards it, honestly expecting to see Louis grinning cheekily and wanting to get involved in our antics like he usually did. Everyone was surprised by the unfamiliar visitor that stood there though.

I coughed up the hit I’d just taken, honestly having anticipated the lad to have stood me up. He’d been far too quiet when we’d first spoken that I’d figured he’d bail out before the boys could give even him the time of day. But he’d really surprised me. I couldn’t help but grin at him once my coughing fit had died down.

“You came!”

“Figured I’d see what’d happen.” The lad shrugged in reply, sharp eyes on me before they surveyed the rest of the room, roaming over the guys’ faces.

I jumped up out of the beanbag, throwing Matty’s feet off my lap to go and properly greet him. A little proud feeling swelling in my chest. If this worked out then the boys would forever be in debt to me. 

Hann was quick to snap out of his shock too and he put down his guitar to join me, jerking his head in greeting.

“Alright, mate. I’m Hann.”

“George.” The lad replied, nodding a hello of his own.

“Shit! I didn’t even ask your name.” I winced, giving the boy a sheepish smile. One that had his own mouth twitching ever so slightly. “I’m Y/n.”

“I know.”

I blinked, unsure on how to reply to that. But thankfully Ross had bounded on over to meet the newcomer. “Ross.” He grinned, holding out a hand like a weirdo. George hit it though, and the two of them shared an odd ‘bro-ish?’ sort of handshake that I’d never come to understand. Did all men just have a universal greeting installed in their heads the day that they were born?

“George.” The lad repeated and I really took in his name that second time around. It suited him. Bit long, but it would do.

“And that twat in the corner is Matty, our main singer.” Ross went on to say, gesturing over to where Matty was still sat sprawled on the beanbag. I rolled my eyes at him but was mostly just thankful that Ross had put down his third helping of dinner to come and say hello.

“Oh, so that’s what this is then?” George questioned as he glanced over at me, not even phased by Matty’s dickish tendencies and having been flat out ignored by the twat.

I gave him another impish grin before turning to face the room, wanting all the boys’ attention on me now. “Well, you see, George plays the drums, yeah?” I revealed slowly, hoping they’d quickly catch on, “Like, plays them really really well.”

George’s cheeks were a little pink when I peered round at him, but he didn’t seem all that embarrassed by my compliment or the ambush of questions that immediately followed my little introduction.

And in the next instant, Ross was beckoning George on over to where the drum kit resided in the corner. George’s eyes roamed across the bloody thing like most boys did cars, or girls… And I smirked to myself as I wandered back over to my usual seat, my focus on the way Ross and Hann were still talking to the lad, Adam handing him a pair of sticks.

I was excited to say the least as I watched George settle into his chair, testing the kit lightly, not giving much away.

“Fuck d'ya find ‘im?” Came Matty’s mumbled snort from beside me and I shot him a puzzled look, having heard the deride in his tone. “Looks about nine.”

“Matty.” I scolded lowly, not wanting George to overhear and have him feel unwelcome.

“What? He’s a bit odd ain’t he?” He retorted through a soft cloud of smoke, I snatched the joint back off him. “All tall and gangly. That accent too.” He wrinkled his nose in a grimace. 

“Shut up, would you?” I huffed, not wanting to deal with whatever the fuck he was feeling then. 

Sure, George was taller than most. Similar height to that of Ross though, really. And he wasn’t all that gangly- who the hell even said gangly, anyway? He was more lean than lanky, his shoulders broad and his face well sculpted. He might’ve been a tad bit odd, what with his syllabic answers and mostly emotionless front. Or at least I hoped it was a front, something which I could sort of relate to.

“He’s probably just nervous.” I said to Matty, taking a drag as I watched Hann explain something or other to him. “I didn’t tell him about the band or nowt, just said to pop by. He’s proper good though, Matt.”

“Yeah?” I heard Matty say, “How’d you even know?”

“Heard him.” I replied and glanced over my shoulder to give him an amused look, “How the fuck else would I know?”

“Don’t be a prick.” Matty huffed at me, nabbing back what little remained of the joint. I shrugged. “You know what I meant.”

I did, but he was being difficult for no reason. “Music room, earlier today.”

I didn’t get the chance to hear Matty’s response to that because George begun to play and everyone’s focus fell on him, observing the way he so effortlessly played, listening to the rhythm that just flowed out of his palms.

I smiled broadly, feeling a little too smug when Hann and Ross beamed at the kid, whooping and hollering as George banged out another tune.

“Fuckin’ hell! You hearin’ this, Healy? Could give you a run for your money!” Ross bellowed, cracking up when Matty flipped him off. I chuckled to myself too and Hann asked George to play something they might know.

“Um,” George thought the request over, then nodded just the once before he started with a few taps to the bass drum pedal which led into the intro to one of the most brilliant Van Halen songs. 

Ross’s eyes lit up when he recognised it and he hastily made his way over to his bass, Hann followed, mesmerised by the effortless ease George used, and the two of them soon started to chime in, following George’s lead. I grinned, mumbling the words for Hot for teacher quietly to myself whilst my foot tapped away. They were brilliant, I could only imagine what they’d sound like with Matty up there with them.

I was smiling like a mad man by the time they all sort of fell out of it, laughing whilst I applauded them loudly. “Whoo! Didn’t I say he was good? I did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did. Now quiet down, can already see your head getting bigger from way over here.” Ross mocked me with a teasing smile, I stuck two fingers up at him in retort and made to stand.

“He is good though.” Adam acknowledged, gifting George a wry smile. “You always play like that?” He asked and the lad shrugged.

“Depends, don’t always have an audience.”

I snorted softly but my attention dithered when Matty got up behind me and abruptly left the garage through the side door without another word. I frowned after him, so bewildered, then turned back towards the others.

Ross was shaking his head, fiddling with the nobs on his bass, whilst Adam forced a smile. Both of them used to it.

“Don’t mind him, mate. He’s a right diva, hates not being centre of attention.” Hann joked, ebbing some of the tension Matty’s departure had created like only he could.

I swallowed and stepped closer to the rest of them, “Hann’s right. He’ll come ‘round- that’s if he can stay?” I glanced between both Ross and Adam then, shoulders pulled up towards my ears.

Hann’s mouth twitched into a lopsided smile but Ross was the one to give me a valid answer, or rather George.

“When can you start?”

—

The thing about boys was, they were ten times more confusing than girls.

With girls, you sort of knew where you stood. If a girl didn’t like you, you’d know about it. But boys, they were just so difficult. And patronisingly so. 

I was only saying all this because it’d been a couple of weeks since George had actually agreed to join the band as their drummer. Something that Matty had huffed and puffed but said no more about. Neither one of them had tried to get to know the other. George was perfectly content to keep to himself when Ross and Hann’s attention was being occupied by Matty. And Matty was bitchy enough to leave the room midway through any conversation he grew bored with- which was typically whenever George spoke up. 

So it was safe to say that boys were infuriatingly stubborn, and these two in particular were driving me up the wall.

I hadn’t spoken much to George, only really got a couple of words out of him whenever I tagged along to practice, and then it was just a nod or a simple greeting when we passed by one another in school. Though he was in my year and, after that first session with the guys, I found that he kept popping up in a lot of the classes I’d failed to notice him in before.

Matty complained about George whenever he was bored, or when one of the boys brought up inviting him along to a party or out to the skatepark with them. I didn’t know what the fuck he had against the younger lad- had fought tooth and nail to get the answer out of him as subtly as I could- but he just wouldn’t budge. And me, being the best mate I was, felt a little weird about being friendly with George, even if it was only to make the band’s life easier. It was as though the loyalty I had for Matty interfered with me playing nice with the guy.

It was hard. And I was quickly growing tired of it.

Especially when I couldn’t help but admire George a small bit for the uncaring role he played in it all, he truly didn’t care that Matty was ‘Matty’, popular and loved by practically everyone. Matty, who always had a flock of girls fawning after him, lads wanting to be him, and teachers letting him off scot-free because they thought him to be a harmless joker. In George’s eyes Matty had it so easy and that’s why he got to act out the way he did.

It all came to a head one band practice though.

“Matty.” Ross sighed from over the neck of his guitar, beyond fed up now with his mate’s antics. 

It was almost eight and we’d all been here since four trying to rehearse for this little gig at the local pub. Hann had scored the thing, gotten his mate behind the bar to have a word with the owner. The bloke had said that they could play but they’d only get paid for it in drinks. Which had been a win-win for the guys.

Matty however was currently in one of his moods. The type he often got whenever his mum and dad had been arguing, the kind where he just wanted to piss about and forget he had responsibilities. It was something I could understand. One of the main reasons we’d bonded so quickly. Trauma calls to trauma- is that how the saying went?

Anyway, he was currently faffing about on the phone outside the garage to whichever girl he had on the go at the moment. He was laughing loudly, talking loudly, but drinking heavily. For a Thursday night at least. 

I sighed, picking at a loose thread on my shorts. I wanted to shake him, have him understand and see what everyone else was feeling. But Matty could be selfish when he wanted to be, especially when he was bricking up those walls of his higher than ever. It was in those moments, even I struggled to get through to him. 

Typically we’d all call it a night and try again another time, but this gig was tomorrow. And the guys still hadn’t gotten halfway through their planned setlist.

I say setlist, but it was five songs. One of which was the only original, the rest covers.

“Matt.” I called out tiredly. Matty merely flapped a hand at me. A universal sign for ‘just gimme a sec’.

Hann looked just about ready to scream, slumped against an amp, guitar forgotten beside him. And Ross was in a similar mindset, hands fisted by his sides to keep himself from wringing Matty’s neck.

I glanced over to where George was quietly tapping away on his drum kit, nodding his head along to whatever beat he had going on in his head. 

The more George had started to hang about, the more I'd started to deduce him.

At first, I thought he might’ve just been shy because of how little he’d spoken. But he fucking wasn’t, that much was easy to see when you knew where (or rather when) to look. The lads had commented on it at first, just poking fun and teasing, but I’d kept my opinion to myself- not sure why, just had, simpler that way, I figured. George wasn’t shy, no, but he was quiet. He preferred thinking, observing, over being the main focus. Much more aware of the things that went on than what he made it out like.

I blinked, breath hitching when I realised he’d caught me staring. Brown eyes now locked on mine. They were intense, squinted slightly beneath a band of dark lashes. He quirked a brow and I skirted my gaze away briefly, before I got over myself, as well as the strange feeling I felt, and moved across the room to join him.

He’d stopped tapping away when he’d glanced over at me, but he kept his sticks in his hands even as I rounded the kit, fingertips trailing across a cymbal.

“So, how you liking school?” 

I wasn’t sure why I asked that. But it felt like a safe place to start. To be honest, I wasn’t sure why I was starting up a conversation at all. I just felt the need to. 

“It’s school.” George replied and I chuckled at that, eyes flicking between the drum kit and his slumped form, his eyes followed my movements.

“I mean, you’re new right? So, was just wondering how it felt.” I shrugged, feeling a tad bit stupid but not letting it show.

George shrugged a single shoulder. “It’s alright, not the first time I’ve moved though.”

My eyebrows rose at that. “Oh yeah?”

He hummed, drumstick tapping against the inside of his wrist. “Yeah.”

I cracked a small smile, he wasn’t much of a talker. Or at least not with me.

“What made you join the band then?” I attempted, figuring I’d try my hand at a new subject. Gaze lingering on the rhythmic tic his hand made.

“You lot are nice enough. It gets me out the house.” He told me.

I dipped my head, I’d felt similarly at first. “I’ll take that.”

“Who says I was talking about you?” George quipped back all too quickly, one corner of his mouth deepening as he fought a smile. 

I narrowed my eyes at him. Baby drummer’s got jokes, it seemed. Definitely not shy then, maybe just out of his comfort zone..?

“You better be.” I told him in all seriousness. 

He chuckled softly and I practically beamed, proud that I’d been the one to cause it.

“Oi, are we fuckin’ practicing or you two just gonna stand about flirtin’ all night?”

My head snapped up at the sound of Matty’s vengeful voice and I felt a sudden anger radiate in me. In all the time I’d known Matty, never had he ever truly angered me- annoyed me, sure, pissed me off, of course! But angered me? No. He’d just tried to embarrass me now though, all but used me as a worthless pawn in this stupid grudge he held against George. Like it hadn’t just been him wasting everybody’s time. 

Where the fuck did he get off on judging my actions, anyway? When all we’d been doing was talking, and when I’d all but ignored George for as long as he’d been hanging around. 

“Are you serious?” I questioned him, hand falling away from the cymbal I’d been tinkering with and down to my side as I stared blankly back at him. He was off the phone now, but the thing was still dangling against his leg, a new can of cider taking up his other hand.

“Yeah. We’re all waiting.” Matty said with a snarky smile, extending his arms out either side of him. “So, you two done then or..?”

Hann looked vaguely uncomfortable, whilst Ross went to say something.

Only George beat him to it.

“Fuck off.” The blond scoffed at him, startling not just Matty, who his words had been aimed at, but all of us.

“Oh, so he speaks!” Matty mocked openly when he finally got over the shock of the unexpected reply, laughing at George now. “Aren’t you a bit too young to be swearing’ though, kid?”

“Aren’t you a bit too privileged to be acting like a whiney prick?” George shot straight back, deep voice staying at the same level it was always in.

Ross choked on a laugh and Hann’s mouth dropped open. My eyes widened on their own accord and darted between both Matty and George, who seemed to be in an uncomfortable standoff.

“You wanna say that a-fuckin’-gain?” Matty snapped back at him, anger fuelling his tone now. “You don’t know nothin' about me. So where the fuck d’you get off on callin’ me that?”

George’s mouth pulled up into a smirk and I was stunned. Unaware that he could even smile properly.

“Hit a nerve? You’re an entitled prick, mate.” George told him with a careless shrug, “You waste all of our time acting like an arse, then come back in here and try embarrass us for talking. Ain’t she meant to be your mate?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say so many words.” I heard Ross mutter, but was too enthralled in the matter at hand to find any amusement in it, though Hann on the other hand did. 

Matty grit his teeth, spitting a bit. “I’d be careful, yeah? ’Cause remember, you’re in my house. My fuckin’ band, alright?”

George snorted in reply, as though he could care less. Finding Matty amusing, which only proved to agitate him further. “Could be sat at the bottom of the ocean for all I care, mate, and you’d still be a massive fucking twat.”

Hann must’ve sensed it coming because he jumped up and grabbed Matty by the shoulders before he could make a lunge at George. He lugged the idiot out of the room before he could do anything else- which wasn’t hard in his less than sober state- all of us just watching on as Matty snarled every name under the sun at George.

The door closed behind them with a resounding slam that had me jumping slightly in my skin. 

A silence settled afterwards, eery and cold. The kind that made you realise all the heat had been bled from the room.

I turned away from the stare Ross seemed unable to help and tugged a hand through my hair, hoping that the gesture would give me a second to calm the pounding of my heart, the wetness in my eyes.

I was shaken. 

Which was the last thing I ever expected to feel when I was with the boys. This garage was my safe place, they were my safe place. And I suddenly felt so stupid for letting myself get so caught up in it all.

I coughed lightly to cover up the sniff I couldn’t help but make and turned back to face the two remaining lads with a very forced smile.

“Guess that’s practice over then.” I chuckled lowly, moving away from George to start packing things away.

“Guess so.” Ross added awkwardly, scratching what little there was to the beard he’d been trying to grow.

I saw George shake his head out of the corner of my eye, but he didn’t say anything so the three of us just started silently moving things about. Ross put the combos and guitars back in the corner, before he made a start on wrapping up wires. George picked up the rubbish that’d been tossed about the room, then worked on moving the larger amps to one side. 

I grabbed the expensive mic Matty had discarded on the floor and put it back in its case, before I wandered over to dismantle the mic stand. It was easy enough but often grew tricky by the third bar where it was always tighter. I tried tugging it a few times before I huffed to myself, it was then that George came over to squat down beside me and help out.

“Thanks.” I murmured once he’d released the two bars from one another, handing them over wordlessly.

“No worries.” He mentioned, and I focused hard on not glancing his way again as I continued to place the parts of the stand in another styrofoam case. He cleared his throat lightly, still there, and I chewed the inside of my cheek, expecting him to speak again. He did. “I’m sorry if I made things worse. I know you and him are close, but… I dunno, he just rilled me up.”

I had to look at George then, surprised by his maturity. Not many people apologised for their part in things, especially when they hadn’t really been at fault. It was new to me.

“You’re fine. He just gets like that sometimes. Don’t worry about it, yeah?”

I stood then and moved across the room to put the cases in the locker Matty liked to keep them in, not giving George the chance to reply. All I wanted now was my bed. But that meant going home, and that upped the chances of me running into my mum and her new boyfriend.

Hann came back a few short minutes after, looking like a piano had been dropped on his head. He sighed defeatedly, rubbing a hand over his face as he closed the door behind him.

“What happened?” Ross asked, blue cable wound up in his right hand.

Adam levelled him with a look. “His mum, they got into an argument, woke Louis. He ended up leaving.”

I withheld a sigh. For fucks sake, Matty.

“Sorry about that, mate.” Hann added, looking to George now. The boy waved him off but Adam chewed on his lower lip for a second, then glanced between the three of us. “You lot ready to head off then?”

We all gave an assorted sound of approval, finishing up with whatever tasks we’d started before we moved to grab our bags. The four of us headed out of the garage in silence and I felt a bit bad not saying goodbye to Denise like I typically did, but knew she probably had worser things to worry about than me. So the garage door slid shut behind us on its automatic hinge and we all set off down the drive. 

When we reached the bottom, Ross stopped me short with a gentle hand to my elbow.

“You gonna be alright?” He asked, and I knew why but feigned I was fine.

“‘Course.”

He left it at that. 

We all walked to the bottom of Matty’s street and it got to the point in the road where we usually went our separate ways.

“Skive off tomorrow so we can practice?” Hann suggested as we came to a slow halt and Ross and George both nodded, before the three of them turned to me. I blinked, surprised by the offer.

“Um, yeah. Okay.”

“Good.” Ross grinned, nudging my arm with his own. “‘Cause we need our manager there to keep us sane.”

I huffed out an airy chuckle and rolled my eyes at him. “See you tomorrow, MacDonald.”

Ross gifted me quirked grin and Adam tugged me into a short hug before they then said their goodbyes to George. My brow pinched at that and was suddenly filled with sudden apprehension when I realised that George was in fact headed my way too.

In all the weeks he’d been at practice, I typically spent a little while longer hanging about Matty’s whilst the rest of them headed home. So this was the first time I realised that I’d be walking back with George.

“Tomorrow, ten am, yeah?” Hann reminded and we all nodded, the question of whether Matty would make an appearance went unsaid.

Ross and Hann begun to pull away and I found myself turning away too, taking a step back and inhaling when George followed. 

We both walked quietly for a minute or two, just taking in the late evening air. I hiked my bag higher up my shoulder and was both relieved and full of anxiety when he finally spoke up.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but if you do, well I don’t mind listening.”

My brows rose in honest surprise. Quiet George was willing to break the silence he so often favoured for little old me?

I wanted to brush his attempt off, make out like I was fine and crack a joke to ebb the tension. But I couldn’t, because I was full of too many emotions that I couldn’t make out which ones were real and which ones were fake. 

I tugged on my lower lip before I licked at the flesh there, eyes on the steps I took, shoes trailing over cracks in the cobblestones.

“He’s never been like that before. Least not with me.” I had to state, wanting to stick up for Matty even though he’d been an utter prat. “Just surprised me ’s all.”

“Still gave him no right.” George replied and I wanted to bite back at him, release that anger his comment stirred in me, but he was right.

I ticked my jaw from side to side, then shrugged. “He’s going through a lot.”

“Aren’t we all?”

I peered over towards him then, that rhetorical question sounded more like an admission. I didn’t comment on it though. I had no right.

“Yeah.” I said quietly instead.

We walked a little further and I found myself glancing up at him from time to time. He was almost a head taller than me, and had a strong nose that was softened by the freckles on his cheeks and the droop of his eyes.

“You excited for tomorrow night?” I asked him, my voice and the hum of the old railway were the only things to make any noise.

George gazed down at me, “‘Spose.”

I couldn’t help my soft laughter. “You suppose?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, smirking faintly now, “Might’ve felt differently if we’d managed to finish working on the set.”

“Fair.” I chuckled.

“What about you?”

I don’t know why but I was surprised he’d reiterated the question back to me. Maybe it was because I’d figured we’d just slump along in awkward silence. But I didn’t feel any awkwardness at all.

“I’m looking forward to it. You guys are incredible.” I told him honestly, “A little apprehensive, but I know you’ll pull it off whatever happens.”

George hummed. “Hold you to it.”

I laughed again, only to realise we’d made it to the end of my street. “I’m up there.” I told him, pointing towards a dark house further up.

He jerked his head in a nod, looking away from the row of homes to gesture towards the street over. “I’m that way.”

It was my turn to hum now, rocking back slightly on my feet. “So I’ll see you tomorrow then…”

With a dip of his chin and his hands in his pockets, George just nodded as we parted ways.

And I did see him that next day. Only it wasn’t in Matty’s garage, because he was stood waiting for me at the end of my street.

…

It was that first gig together that sent a solidifying ripple through Matty and George’s tentative relationship.

We’d all met up that Friday morning, as planned, George and I having walked into Matty’s garage on the defence, but it’d seemed that the curly haired lad was singing a whole other tune. Matty had appeared truly apologetic for how things had gone down the previous night, and not just to me either. He even went out of his way to have a talk with George outside before we got down to business, which had surprised the three of us who remained.

When the pair of them had come back in, Matty was grinning from ear to ear and George’s eyes were set on me, I smiled when I noticed him wearing one of his own.

That was the first practice we all ended up really enjoying, and it’d been just in time too because the guys went out and absolutely killed their gig later that evening. They’d had half the locals up on their feet and gotten the pub packed full with a bunch of people from school. It’d definitely been a night to remember, not just because of how it had all worked out in the end, but it’d also been the night that Matty changed the band’s name- again.

—

“Mattyyyy, I swear! I just don’t know what to do!” I whined from where I was hanging off the side of his huge wooden bed.

Matty was propped up just below me on his phone texting whoever, his mum having invited me over for Sunday tea. I smacked his arm when he only continued to ignore me.

“Jesus. What do you want me to say!” Matty exclaimed, snorting when he glanced up at me and caught sight of my very distressed frown. “It’s just George, babe. He’s harmless.”

“I fucking know that! But… I don’t know, it’s just-”

I was about to say weird. But I’d stopped myself before I could let the word slip, because that didn’t feel like the right way to describe how I felt about it.

You see, for some maddening reason George had taken it upon himself to start popping up every and anywhere I might be. A bit like an annoying fly really. 

It’d started with the waiting. Remember? That first morning we skived off school to practice for their gig… Well, George had taken that as a silent invitation to continue doing exactly that, just every day.

Not just that either. He seemed to appear whenever he pleased, too. Had taken to sitting in the seat beside me during maths because he knew I sucked at it. Shared his food with me, or would slide a couple quid across the table, whenever I had no lunch. And I kept finding his eyes on me more often than not. 

The whole thing was driving me mad and I had zero clue as to why. Because it was anything any other normal mate would do. Hell, it was exactly what the other boys would do for me as well as one another, it’s what Vicky tended to do whenever we would have one of our catch ups. But things just felt a whole lot different with George.

It was like he always knew more than he was letting on. And that on its own set me on edge.

I didn’t want or need anyone digging any deeper than what I allowed, I couldn’t have anyone seeing what I tried so hard to hide.

And so the situation with George did grate on me a bit. And I had taken to complaining to Matty about it every chance I got. Not that the dickhead seemed to care, he was always off in his own world. Had his own shit to deal with. Seeing how his mum and dad were currently in the middle of a divorce, I could understand why he found my hysterical venting amusing.

Still.

“Look, he’s just bein’ friendly. Might even have a bit of a crush on you, babe- ‘cause I mean, what’s not to like, ey?” Matty grinned, winking up at me from the floor, I groaned and rolled my eyes in reply. “Anyway, it’ll blow over soon enough and hey, you might even miss the attention.”

I scowled and tossed one of the many pillows his bed homed at his giant head. 

That was the last time I spoke to Matty about it. Deciding then and there that I’d just let George do as he pleased, if it made him happy helping me out or tagging along, then fine. He could have it his way. I’d just have to find a way to get over it.

—

It was late. Nearing two in the morning and I was still wide awake.

I could hear them, in the room next to mine. They’d been at it for hours now, long enough that I was both mortified and utterly mystified by the fact that the neighbours had yet to have the police knocking down our door.

He was fucking her now, but in a minute or two they’d be back to fighting again. You could count on it. Mum and Steven moved like clockwork. Steven was her newest thing, they’d been together a few short weeks now, ever since Julio had come and gone. Julio who had stuck around the longest so far, a whole nine months. The guy had been a layabout, but he hadn’t ever laid a hand on me. Something I was grateful for, but something Steven couldn’t account for as well.

No, Steven was a lot more violent than the rest, but I much preferred violence over-

I inhaled, in and out. Out then in.

I buried my face further into my pillowcase. I had school in the morning, and no idea how I was going to function if things continued like this.

I kept on breathing though. Attempting to tune them out. To sleep.

I knew it’d been a long time coming but I still startled when I heard the thud and then the loud wail which followed. I froze in my bed but couldn’t stop myself from listening out. Wondering if this was the hit that finally killed her.

No. 

She was calling out to him again. Trying to stop it, stop him, trying to calm him down. 

But you should know better by now, mum.

“Stop! Julio, stop please!” 

My breath caught in the back of my throat at her pleading shout. Either Julio had finally reappeared in my mum’s bedroom during the middle of the night, or my mum had done something so incredibly stupid. She’d called Steven by another man’s name.

“The fuck did you just call me?” I heard him bellow through the paper thin walls of our tiny townhouse. Another thump. And then an ominous thud.

“Steven! I said Steven!” My mum wailed.

She sounded so desperate I had to squeeze my eyes close, as though I was the one facing the brunt of his fists.

He started roaring, swearing loudly in that Liverpool accent of his. And rained down on her harder than anyone else ever had. Thump after thump. She screamed, cried, wailed. Pleading loudly now, loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear. So how could he not?

But we all knew he could, he just didn’t care. To him she was merely a toy.

“Steven!”

I hadn’t even realised I was up and out of my bed, let alone standing on the landing, before I was staring up into a face full of fury. 

The door to their bedroom had been wrenched open, my fingers pale and tight around the handle, though I could hardly feel the metal beneath them now.

“The fuck do you want?”

I had no time to even answer him, my eyes locked on my mum’s bloody form when a fist came flying at me. It sent me back, knocked me into the banister hard enough to welt my spine, and I whimpered but made no other noise, keeping my jaw locked tight and my bleary eyes trained on him even as he approached. Stomping like the child he was.

“Fuckin’ miserable little thing you. Yer mother never teach you to mind yer business- yer manners?” He spat at me, and I took it as well as the next thump when he propelled my head off the wooden railing behind me. “Breathe another word and you’ll be in for worse next time. Now fuck off, would ya.”

I slid by him as fast as I could without looking like I was about to piss myself, my mum stood in the bedroom doorway now, lip and face bloodied around a lazy smile. “Night, sweetheart.” She said, like nothing was the matter. 

I forced a lump of bile back down my throat and nodded, knowing if I ignored her I’d only be in for another blow- or a shove down the stairs.

She and Steven went back inside, him thundering as he went and shouting some more. I let go of the shaky breath I'd been clinging on to before I tiptoed as quickly as I could into my own room. I grabbed my mobile and my trainers, brain practically working on autopilot, then I was down the stairs and out the front door before I could second guess it.

I don’t know how far I walked or what time it was but I remember calling Matty. I called a few times actually, each time it went straight to voicemail. His phone was off.

I debated phoning Adam or Ross, maybe even Vicky. But I couldn’t bring myself to do so.

Instead I wrapped my arms around my chest, shivering without really feeling the cold that swept past me and letting my feet lead me wherever they pleased. My body seemed to collapse somewhere between the bridge on Brook Street and the little playground a couple blocks over from mine though. I curled up on the bench there, dragged my knees up towards my shoulders and clung to them tightly.

I stared off into the darkness for a little while. Not caring what I looked like or who might find me come sunrise. Just staring ahead at the squeaking swings in the distance and the grassy fields that surrounded the nearby estate.

“Y/n?”

I blinked at the sound of my name, but had to hear it a few more times before I finally pulled myself out of the daze I’d fallen into and looked away.

I was stunned to see George stood there towering above me, clad in a grey hoodie and a pair of jogging shorts. His face was one of complete shock, something that would’ve made me laugh any other day, seeing as he was always so stoic looking. But I couldn’t. Not then. I didn’t even know how I was still breathing.

“Fucking hell, what, what h-”

George stopped himself short and approached me with a wary caution, I was thankful he hadn’t finished that sentence and didn’t stop him when he took the seat beside me on the wearing wooden bench.

He must’ve tugged his hoodie off at some point because I felt him drape it around me in the next moment. It was warm, a stark and sudden contrast to the numbness I’d been feeling since I’d left my bed.

“What are you doing here?” I croaked out, once the panic had become too much to bare and I felt as though every nerve-ending in my body was slowly igniting. I had to fill the silence with something. I didn’t want to think any longer. I couldn’t. Not with questions like ‘Was she even still alive?’ and ‘Did she even care?’ on my mind. 

“I,” George started, drawing my focus, and seemed to take a deep breath before he continued on, “I like going on walks, when I can’t sleep. Helps clear my head.”

I let that lie between us and then asked, “Why?” 

I stared blankly ahead again, too scared to face him. Or rather, him face me. To see the damaged goods I really was. 

“My mum’s home.” He told me quietly, wind whistling around us. I found it comforting that he knew instantly what question I’d really been asking. 

I hummed. My mum was home too, but I wished she wasn’t.

“She works a lot. Abroad mostly, ’s why we move around so much.” George explained to me, and I knew why he was telling me all this when he’d never let a word slip about his home life before. 

It was an eye for an eye situation. He’d seen me like this, battered and bruised. And wanted to make sure it was clear that he didn’t have the upper hand here, that I wouldn’t think he had something he could use against me.

“My dad reckons she means well, but…” He just shrugged, hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts. I took note of the thin white tee he wore and the way he tried not to shiver. “We don’t get on.”

“She ever hurt you?”

I don’t know why I asked it. But I did. I wanted to pry, to cut him open and see if he bled the same way I had. 

“Slapped me twice. First time, she cried. Second, was tonight.” 

I let that sink in.

“My mum’s boyfriend did this.” I let slip quietly, hoping that the wind around us was strong enough to howl over my words. But I’d never been that lucky. George tensed beside me. Rigid as a rock. He’d heard.

In and out. I repeated the motion, the words on a loop in my head.

“You know that coffee shop over on Durham?” He asked me next, catching me off guard. Confused, I nodded. “You reckon you can get there?”

I nodded again, though I was still unsure. On whether I could make it, and if I should trust him here. It wouldn’t be the first time someone close to me let me down.

George seemed to sense my uncertainty and merely waited me out.

I took a deep breath after a long moment had passed and stood on shaky legs. He came to a stand next to me but kept his hands firmly in his pockets, making sure I noticed that fact too. A gesture that eased a fraction of my anxiety.

Slowly we walked together over to the small coffee shop that was open all hours, not uttering a single word the entire way. My body ached but I carried on, slipping his hoodie on properly once we’d finally neared the shops flickering ‘open’ sign. I tugged the hood up too to hide some of my face before we entered, unsure of what I might’ve looked like.

George went in first and held the door open for me, making sure to stay in my line of sight at all times, even when he offered to go order whilst I found us a table.

I grunted to myself when my tender skin brushed against the back of the booth I’d chosen in the far corner, one where I could watch the door and have no one at my back.

I sat there, waiting, and attempted to occupy my mind with the quiet song which was playing overhead, fingers fidgeting with the salt shaker all the while. 

George returned a few minutes afterwards, tray in hand. He motioned towards it once he’d sat down opposite. “Got a couple warm drinks- you like tea right?” He asked me, and I nodded, surprised that he’d remembered, before he carried on, “Got a cup of water too, to clean your face up if you wanted.”

I swallowed thickly at the kind thought and carefully guided one of the warm mugs he’d purchased towards me, wrapping my hands around it and savouring its steaming heat.

“I can’t really see it, so there’s no point.” I murmured, staring down into the milky brew.

He was quiet for a few seconds, shaking a sugar packet before pouring it into his coffee. “I can do it if you want.”

I peered up at him and tried to hide my wariness. The way my body immediately stilled and pulled away. George didn’t say anything about it though, just continued to stir his overly sweetened cup.

I licked at my lip and tasted the thick metal that then coated my tongue. It was that which drove me to nod at him. George didn’t smile or acknowledge my nervousness, merely took a napkin and dipped it into the water. We both leant in further across the table at the same time. I forced myself to stay frozen when he begun to dab at my broken skin.

After a few napkins had been stained a crimson red, I finally relaxed a tad, glancing up at George’s own face whilst he worked deftly on mine.

It was then that I noticed the mark he’d mentioned having received earlier. A scatter of faint red dots in the shape of fingers sat alongside a fine welt that rested on his cheekbone. It made me wonder what had happened. If he’d been asking for it or if she’d done it out of anger.

Had I been asking for it? I wondered, drawing back into myself a tad. But stopped when I hissed outwardly, snapping my eyes up to meet his.

“Sorry.”  George murmured, trying to be gentler when he wiped at my lip again.

“It’s okay. Just, didn’t expect it.”

He nodded in quiet understanding but said nothing further, and soon enough he tossed the final napkin onto the pile he’d made and simply went back to his coffee. I couldn’t help my tiny smile. Thankful, for once, to have him there.

…

After that night I started to lean on George a little bit more. More than I should’ve, in truth. 

I was hardly even aware of though, until it was much too late. ’Til I realised I was looking at him in a whole other light. One I’d taken to avoiding since the day I’d met him. 

We walked to school together every morning, met the guys at the gates and then separated from them at first bell. We hauled up in the music room at break, talking and telling one another quiet truths. Spent lunchtime smoking behind the bike shed, sometimes with Vicky, other times with one or two of the boys. We went to practice together and then walked home together. Met up when either one of us ‘couldn’t sleep’ and got far too familiar with the staff in Bru, that coffee shop we’d ventured into that first night. Even took to exploring the city I’d lived in my whole life. Travelling down to the yard, and wasting days in the park and arcade. 

I depended on him always being there, I realised after a short while, and didn’t really seem to mind it. Which was as much strange as it was terrifying. George quickly became my person, a truth in a world full of lies. It was hard to comprehend most days.

—

“Oi, you’re definitely coming to Jamie’s party tonight right?” Vicky called out to me from across the worktop, we were currently in food tech and she was trying her very hardest to save the burnt sponge she’d made to no avail.

My eyes darted over to where George was stood working on the table over, then nodded at her. “Should be.”

“Great.” She grinned at me, “You bringing your boys along with you?”

I cocked an amused brow at her. She’d taken to calling them that. My boys.

“Don’t own them.”

Vic rolled her eyes at my answer then turned to shout over her shoulder at George before I could think to stop her, “You coming tonight then, Daniels?”

George’s head swivelled around towards us but it took him a second to stop working on his white icing before he answered. He glanced towards me first, a question dancing in his eyes. I gave a subtle nod, not even thinking about it. He mimicked it. “Should be.” He told her, wiping his dirty hands on a damp tea towel.

Vicky groaned loudly in return, “You two, I swear! You drive me insane.”

George’s forehead furrowed, obviously confused by her obvious irritation.

“She said the exact same thing!” Vicky huffed in explanation before she turned on him once more, “Just do me a favour and make sure she’s there, alright? It’s important.”

I released a light air of laughter whilst George’s mouth just quirked upwards into a small smile, he saluted her like a soldier would a general. “Yes, mam.”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that.” Vicky mentioned, a devious smile liming her lips.

I snorted. 

“At ease, soldier.” I said to George before he wandered over to join me, swiping a finger through my freshly sifted icing. “Oi!”

“What?” George questioned me innocently, as though he hadn’t just put his grubby fingers in my food.

“I swear if Hanson marks me down ‘cause of that, I will string you up by the balls and dangle you from the school’s roof.” I warned him seriously.

Vicky giggled to herself, “Kinky.”

I rolled my eyes at her, whilst George just smirked, taking claim of my seat.

“You finished with yours then?” I asked him, still working on the roses I’d sculpted for the top of my dessert.

He hummed a quiet confirmation and begun to play with the string of my apron. I peered over at his station and was a tad bit impressed by the cake I saw. Vicky followed and whistled at the sight of it.

“Wow, Daniels. If drumming doesn’t work out for you, baking just might.”

“A man of many talents, our Georgie.” I teased, bopping his nose and staining the tip of it with a print of icing sugar. Vic giggled again and George scrunched his face up at me.

“George Daniel, in your seat please!” Miss Hanson interrupted as she looped back round and George gave me a ‘what can you do?” sort of look, before he sighed and went back to his assigned seat, wiping a hand full of icing across my cheek as he did so. I gasped. 

“Prick!”

“Miss Y/l/n, language! Might I remind you that we are in a classroom not a zoo.”

I gifted the woman a strained smile and felt my left eye twitch. “Yes, Miss Hanson. Sorry, Miss Hanson.”

She merely harrumphed and plodded away, I made a face at her back. Vic snorted behind a crumb covered hand.

“That woman will be the death of me, I swear.” I grumbled unhappily.

Vicky was smirking when I glanced back up at her though, doing little to hide her ever rising amusement. I knew right then what was coming just by the look on her face.

“Detention, Miss Y/l/n. Lunchtime.” Miss Hanson grunted out and instantly my face fell. Vicky continued to snicker away at my expense. 

“You’ll pay for that.” I mouthed to her, only to receive a feigned blameless smile in response. It was in that next moment that Miss Hanson shouted out again.

“Mr Daniel, same goes to you! Lunchtime detention. What on earth has gotten into all of you?”

Both Vicky and I snapped our attention in the direction of George’s table to find that he’d upturned a bowl full of flour onto the counter and drawn a leaking appendage into it. Both of our eyes widened before we burst out laughing. 

“Miss Taylor, do you wish to join them both?” Miss Hanson threatened and Vicky was quick to quieten down, shaking her head at the older woman. 

“No, miss.”

“Good, then I advise you to continue with your work.”

Miss Hanson moved on after that and whilst I struggled to get ahold of my chuckles, I saw Vicky waggle her brows at me before she jerked her chin over towards George, who was cleaning up his powdery mess. Confused, I shot her a bewildered look. But she merely smirked in turn, shaking her head at me.

I frowned but continued on rolling my roses, mind lingering on what she could’ve possibly meant. 

…

Jamie Taylor’s parties were always something to remember.

The first one I’d ever gone to was for J’s birthday, he’d gone all out for it, decorated a bit, even had one of his mate’s older brothers supply a couple crates and bottles for us all. 

Originally it’d been his mum that had forced him to invite Vicky and I along, which had put a bit of a downer on the whole thing, but the pair of us had been far too excited to have the chance to hang ‘round with the older kids at school and dress up a bit to care. 

In truth, it’d been the first proper party I’d ever attended- if you didn’t count the one Sarah Whelts had thrown back in primary school, though that had been just as sick seeing as she’d had it in the local Maccies. 

But yeah, that party was also the first time I snogged a lad. Like properly. It’d actually been with one of Jamie’s friends- his best mate, if we were being dead honest here- and it’d had my head spinning. Vicky had caught the two of us in the upstairs loo though and hadn’t shut up about it for weeks afterwards. To say she’d put me off wanting to get with him again was a massive understatement, she’d hung it over my head for ages, threatening to let it slip to J whenever she was in one of her annoying moods.

This time around though, all I wanted was to have a good time. After the shit day I’d had, I figured I deserved the chance to drown my sorrows.

“Hey, hey! There she is!” 

I glanced up just as I made it through the front door and gave a smile when I spotted the man of the hour headed my way.

“Alright, Jaim.” I greeted as he roped an arm around me to pull me into a tight hug, he smelt of his usual aftershave and the lingering tinge of smoke.

“I’m grand, babe.” Jamie grinned back, looking down at me now as he pulled away a tad, arm still hanging off my shoulders. “Glad you made it though, ain’t seen you in ages. Vic said it was like pullin’ teeth tryna get an answer out of you.”

I rolled my eyes at the theatrics and laughed lightly. “Yeah, well she’s a drama queen.”

“Don’t I know it.” Jamie sighed, all put-upon before he chuckled.

We were interrupted then by a hoard full of boys. My boys as a matter of fact.

“Well hello, don’t you look stunnin’! Been looking all over for you.” Matty greeted merrily, beer already in hand as he accosted me in the hallway. I released a happy laugh of my own when he smacked a big kiss to my cheek and took my hand in his. “You only just get here?”

I nodded in faint reply before I pulled away from Jamie’s embrace to envelope both Ross and Hann into a hug, giving them my hello’s too. “Yeah, had stuff to do first. How long you lot been here?” I asked, but my eyes darted behind them in search of George. “And where’s G?”

The nickname was relatively new, but I’d always said that his name felt far too long. G seemed to be sticking anywho.

Matty kissed his teeth as his eyes scanned the room, fingers still attached to mine. “He was here a while ago- came with us, didn’t he.”

“Think he went out for a fag.” Ross mentioned to me before his eye caught Stacey Donahue dancing away in the corner. Hann and I shared a knowing smile before the giant made his excuses and dipped away. 

“How you lads enjoyin’ the party then?”

I startled slightly at Jamie’s voice, having completely forgotten he’d been stood there with us. Although it did look like he’d just been quietly welcoming people as they arrived, whilst I’d been caught up.

Matty beamed at the question and raised the neck of his drink at him, “Great time, mate. As always.”

Jamie chuckled, “Cheers. Um, you two mind if I have a word with this lady ‘ere though?”

The lazy grin Matty wore grew at Jamie’s ask and Hann was smirking to himself as he nodded. “‘Course.” He replied for the both of them, before sparing a glance at me, “Come find us soon, yeah?”

My brow pinched and I could only nod at his request, ignoring Matty’s drunken snickering before Jamie gestured his head over to the right and begun leading me away, through the kitchen and its rowdy partygoers, out into the garden.

The air outside was a bit chilly, but I was still wearing the denim jacket George had lent me earlier that afternoon, so I didn’t feel it so much. I peered around at a few of the people who’d decided to gather in the garden, some of them smoking around the fire-pit, others sprawled out on the grass beneath the gazebo.

“What’s up?” I asked Jamie once he’d finished saying hello to a couple of his mates that had decided to head back inside just as we came out. He looked over at me.

Jamie had always been a good looking lad. You know, the typical pretty boy type. With his light eyes and cheeky smile. I remembered how much I used to fancy him growing up, not just ‘cause he was nice to look at, but because he’d always looked out for me, never made me feel stupid or less than. He was just a decent guy.

But it was a surprise to me then though to see him looking so sheepish, scratching at the jut of his jaw whilst his eyes skirted around me. Jamie was anything but shy, even when he was getting a good hiding he was still smirking away.

“You alright?” I asked him around a light chuckle, unsure on what he’d even wanted me for.

“Yeah, yeah.” He was quick to assure me, fighting to dampen his growing grin when he finally met my mirthful eyes. “Just needed a breather, you know. Mental in there.”

“What, and you just decided you’d use me as an excuse?” I teased, unable to help myself and fighting back a laugh when his eyes widened.

“Nah, no, nothing like that.” Jamie hurried out.

I just shook my head my head in return with a sweet smile, hands tucked in the pockets of my jacket. “I’m messing, J. What’s up? You seem on edge.”

He heaved out a big breath and left me waiting on a real reply, he was honestly starting to worry me a tad but now, never had I heard him go so long without speaking. He was almost as bad as Vic herself- maybe it was a family thing.

“Jaim?”

“Sorry.” Jamie sighed and dragged a frustrated hand down across his face. “Sorry just- reckon I need another drink.” 

He laughed lightly, clearly trying to ease some of the tension he felt, and I joined but only for something to do. Still so confused.

“You gonna hold me hostage out here all night?” I prodded, raising my eyebrows at him with a soft smile when he peered my way.

He rolled his eyes with an amused grin, before he cut to it. “Listen, we’ve been mates for ages, right?”

Slowly I nodded at him. I’d call Jamie a friend, but it felt weird him acknowledging it, in my eyes, to him, I’d always just be his little sister’s tagalong.

“Right. Exactly.” Jamie barrelled on, not sensing my bewilderment. “And you probably know me best, innit? Like out of everyone- aside from me mum and me dad, probably Vic too.”

I wouldn’t say that but, “I ‘spose.”

“Good.” He dipped his head in a jerky nod and, honestly, I would’ve thought he was on something, the way he was acting, if I hadn’t been looking up into his eyes. “Yeah, so what I’m basically tryna say here is that-”

Jamie’s little tangent was promptly cut short by the arm that engulfed me. “B, ‘ve been lookin’ all over for you.”

Immediately I grinned, already knowing just who it’d been by the freckles that dotted their wrist and the familiar scent that wrapped its way around me. I lifted my head up to stare into George Daniel’s familiar eyes, their brown blown wide and hidden slightly by the squint of his smile.

“You made it!” I exclaimed happily, my hand reaching up to meet his at my shoulder, I gave it a quick squeeze and he nodded down at me.

“Said I would.” He replied and we shared another smile.

It was then that George seemed to realise he’d interrupted the conversation I’d just been having, his brows jumped upwards as he turned to look at Jamie.

“Oh sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to barge in.” George apologised with a smaller smile, glancing between us, “Just spotted her as I was headin’ back in.”

“You’re alright.” I assured George, “J was just having a quick word.”

“I’ll leave you to it then. Meet you inside?” George offered and I wanted so badly to wave it off, yank him back over to the side of the house where I knew he’d been hiding, and share a joint or two. But Jamie…

“If you don’t mind, mate.” Jamie nodded, his smile a little tight. I frowned, but glanced back up at George to make sure he was really okay with it.

“‘Course.” He smiled easily, squeezing my hand and pressing his nose into my hair as he pressed a quick peck to my temple. Something that was relatively new to us. Though I couldn’t help the butterflies it seems to erupt. “Bye bye Birdie.”

I snorted softly as he untangled himself, smirking all the while. Hating having ever let it slip that I loved that film. 

He saluted me before slipping through the back door and I turned back to Jamie with a fond smile I didn’t even realise I was wearing.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” I asked him now that he finally had my full focus again.

Jamie stared at me long and hard, before a strange look crossed over his face. Almost one of realisation, or maybe resignation? It baffled me but I didn’t have the chance to question it. 

“You know what-” Jamie breathed out, his smile small now but still genuine as he reached a hand out to brush against my shoulder. I glanced down at it briefly before he was speaking again. “Don’t worry about it. I can tell you another time, yeah?”

Forehead pinched in utter confusion, I wanted to prod at him further but he was shutting down before my very eyes by putting up a loud and extraverted bravado. One he usually let slip around those he was comfortable with. I wondered what I’d possibly done wrong.

“It’s a party, ain’t it? Lemme grab you a beer- you just enjoy yourself!”

Then he was squeezing my arm and breezing past me before I could get a word in edgeways.

I stood there on the patio, lost. Head so busy just trying to work out what the hell had happened that I didn’t even notice Vicky until she was there hanging off my arm.

“Did he tell you? Did he tell you?” She questioned me in her tipsy state, not even giving me the time to answer before she was pestering me with a dozen other confusing questions, “What d’ya say? Did you say you it back? Did you let him kiss you? Wait, don’t answer that one- don’t think I want to know.” 

My brain short-circuited. 

Only half aware, I felt myself glance through the window into the kitchen, to where Jamie now stood pouring a couple drinks, surrounded by people. His eyes met mine through the glass, before they trailed over to where his sister was now jumping about excitedly beside me, his face paled at the realisation. 

Shit. Jamie liked me.

—

Jamie kept his distance after that night. Didn’t try to bring it up again or actually admit what, I was now afraid, he’d been about to. 

Though the whole thing did confuse me- if it had been that that he’d been so close to admitting to, then what had stopped him? Was it because of George’s interruption, or had he just thought better of it?

They nibbled away at me, all these thoughts. But I tried to keep them at bay, ignore them as best I could. Because I could honestly have the entirely wrong end of the stick here, and maybe, just maybe Jamie wasn't actually avoiding me, maybe he was just busy with exams, and school, footie…

I groaned to myself, feeling a headache brewing. So much for ignoring the topic.

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours, cupcake?”

I scowled at the tap I received to the side of my skull and swatted halfheartedly when Ross dropped himself down onto the grass beside me.

The rest of lads, plus Vicky, were all up at the ice-cream van that’d pulled up at the curb by the entrance to the park. I hadn’t wanted anything when they’d all started to wander over, having heard the whining tune, whilst Ross had called in his winnings with Matty (the two of them were always betting on something or other) and asked for ‘a 99 with a flake and sprinkles, please!’

I’d been glad to have it just be me and him for a short while, I’d been feeling off all day and he was usually the one who didn’t ever mind my moods. 

“Nothing.” I told him, picking at daisies that had just begun to litter the grass.

“What not even a cymbal-banging monkey?”

I breathed out an airy chuckle. “Why, is that all you’re used to?”

“Yup. That and tits.” He shrugged and I snorted an unexpected laugh.

“Pig.”

Ross merely grinned before he nudged me again. “Come on, get it off your mind before them lot come barging back over.”

I glanced out across the field, saw Matty pissing about with Vicky by the roadside and the way Hann struggled to keep his ice-cream from dripping down his hand. Then looked back to Ross. He’d kicked his legs out wide, palms splayed out behind him whilst his skateboard rested beside his foot.

“It’s nothing, stupid really.” I told him and watched the way he quirked an encouraging brow at me, obviously wanting me to carry on. I released a heavy sigh, “Can’t really talk to anyone about it, you know? Or it feels that way.”

“Well, I’m sat here asking, so tell me. You know I don’t care- could tell me you just bleached your armpits and I’d only ask to see.”

I smiled, shaking my head at his strange reply. But that was just Ross, he made you feel so at ease. Like you really could tell him anything.

“Fine. Just, you know Jamie?” I ventured carefully, gaze on the tiny flowers I was fiddling with in my lap. 

“‘Course. Vicky’s brother- plays striker, don’t he?”

I hummed, “Yeah, him.”

“Alright, what about him?” Ross prompted and I could feel his eyes lingering on my hands, watching as I made holes in the stems of the daisies I’d collected. 

“Something happened with him the other night, at his party.”

“Did he do something?” Ross’s hardened tone made me blink and so I was quick to snap my head up to reassure him.

“No, no. Nothing bad. Just something he said, or well, something Vic mentioned after we’d spoke.”

“You’re being pretty vague here.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “I know, sorry. I just- it’s strange to say out loud. I feel like I’ve got it all turned around in my head.”

“Alright well, just tell me what happened and I’ll see if you have or not.”

I wet my lower lip in thought then ultimately decided that it couldn’t hurt. The worst Ross would do is poke fun at me, and I knew wholeheartedly he wouldn’t say a word to the others.

“It started when I left you lot, he wanted to have a word and took me outside.” I started to explain, “He was acting right weird. Just not himself, you know? A bit nervous, I ‘spose.”

Ross hummed when I paused for a breath.

“And he was trying to tell me something. Thought it was gonna be something bad- what with they way he was acting- and he was just about to finally spit it out when G wandered over. We’d spoken for a few minutes, just normal shit, said hi and whatnot. Introduced him to Jamie. Then he headed inside, but when he’d gone Jamie lost his nerve. Put up this front and told me to forget about whatever he’d been about to say. Acted as though it was nothing important.”

“Right…”

“Then he shot off before I could say another word! I was so fucking confused, Ross. Beyond it actually. And then Vic came over, drunk and spewing a whole load of crap. Asking question after question. She-” I couldn’t say it for a moment, scared if I voiced it that it would sound stupid. But I inhaled and just forced the words out anyway. “She asked if he’d finally told me, if I felt the same way… if he’d kissed me.”

“Oh.” Ross said and I shot him a strained look.

“Oh. That’s really all you have to say?”

Ross’s eyes widened as he chuckled, “Sorry! Just, I mean, it was sort of obvious.”

I frowned. “What was?”

“Jamie. Matt and I have been betting on him asking you out since the week after we met you.”

“Ross!” I exclaimed, in utter disbelief.

“What?” He squawked in retort, mimicking as he withheld a laugh.

“Don’t what me, you knob! You knew he liked me and said nothing??”

“Yeah. I had ten quid on him bricking it whilst Matty reckoned he’d do it before Christmas. Then Christmas passed and we changed the terms to that he’d just ask you out.”

I stared back at him.

“You didn’t tell me because there was money at stake?”

“That, and we both knew it’d drive a wedge between your friendship with Vic. Then she finally caught on to it as well and we were gonna say something, but by then G had come along.”

My brow furrowed, “The fuck has George got to do with it?”

Ross levelled me with a look. I gave him one straight back. And it was then that he blinked and seemed to realise I really had no idea what he was on about.

“Wow. You’re so fucking oblivious, cupcake.”

I smacked his chest. “Ross. I’m not playing about here.”

“Christ.” He hissed, rubbing at his shirt. “Really got some power behind you. Who would’ve thought.”

Scowling, I prodded him again. “Ross, just tell me, would you? You’re driving me mad.”

He huffed but relented, looking me dead in the eye, “George has got everything to do with it, Y/n. I mean, he’s half fucking in love with you.”

I gaped for a short moment, eyes darting between Ross’s own when they never faltered, just waiting for him to tell me it was all a big joke. 

“What?”

“You really have no idea, do you?” Ross chuckled, shaking his head at me like I was some sad little puppy. “But that’s alright, I guess. Seeing as he has no clue that you like him too.”

My eyes widened at the sureness in his voice but before I could even defend myself, the rest of our little group were swanning their way back over, completely unaware of the way my heart was currently deafening my eardrums. Or how it only seemed to pound harder when George handed me a milk lolly I hadn’t asked for, knowing that they were my favourite.

Ross shot me another look, smirking all the while.

Oh, shit.

Part B>

[rowanaelinn]

Come and Play

This is… a little something 👀

Warnings: NSFW, and I know I’m never seeing god | Word Count: 1,900

If there was one thing Aelin Galathynius was certain about, was that she despised her boss. He was the definition of an asshole, always broody and never cracking up a smile or compliment. Not only that, but he was also annoyingly smart, in a way that made him able to keep up with her snark which made him ten times more annoying.

He always demanded more of her: more dedications, more hours, more availability.

He wasn’t a bad guy per see. He’d given her all her days off and half of his when her uncle had died last yar. She’d tried to thank him then, but he just waved it off, telling her to come back rested to work.

“What was the verdict of the Archeron case?” He asked her as she sipped from her steaming cup of coffee which she’d just poured. It was what she did on her break, but Rowan Whitethorn didn’t seem to understand what a break was.

Ten years her senior, he had founded Cadre Law Firm with his best friend, Lorcan Salvaterre, straight out of law school. Now years later, it was one of the most prestigious firms of the country.

They’d hired her five years ago, and she’d just become Senior Associate less than a year ago. A promotion that her boss had announced to her with a blank face, before giving her three more cases to work on.

She believed he was allergic to happiness.

“It’s all over the news,” she answered, shrugging and sipping from her cup again.

“And I’m asking you, her lawyer who was at the trial. Excuse me for thinking you’d be more reliable than those gossip magazines.”

She rolled her eyes, such dramatics. Aelin’s client, Feyre Archeron, was one of the most famous actresses in the world right now, and the moment she stepped foot in their firm, Aelin had fought teeth and nails to get the case.

It hadn’t been an easy fight; she was only a Senior Associate and compared to the five Partners and the two Shareholders, and yet Aelin had won it.

“The bastard is going to rot in jail for ten years with no reduction possible, then is forbidden to get less than fifty yards away from Miss Archeron.”

He nodded, taking in the verdict. She’d just come back from court, and even if there had been a lot of evidence against Tamlin Spring’s abusive ass, it had been a hard fight to make the justice system actually work in favor of the victim.

Her boss’s arms were crossed, and she turned her gaze away when she realized she was staring at the way his suit fitted his body, at the muscles it showed off. Gods, wasn’t he uncomfortable in such tight clothes? Not that she was better with her pencil skirts, but how could she not wear those when they made her ass look so fabulous? Maybe he wore those suits for the same reason, because inside he was as vain as she was. At least she didn’t hide it, she had her reasons to love herself so much.

Through, as she threw another look toward the silver-haired man while he watched his watch, she supposed that if he had his reasons, too. This was the more irritating part of this whole thing: he was attractive.

And not attractive in the way that would have her take a mental note and then forget about it if she were to cross his path on the street.

No, he was enticing enough to follow her to her deepest dreams. She hated this; and pushing her hate onto something so vague seemed useless, so she decided to hate him instead. It was easier, and quite fun if she was being honest.

“Decent work,” he said, and on his way to leave he added, “I want all the paperwork related to that case on my desk before midnight.”

He was gone before she could protest or even complain, but it didn’t stop her from spitting an insult directed at him. She didn’t have to fill all the paperwork now; she knew for a fact that other associates weren’t asked for such heavy work under such short delayed. No, the asshole just hated her probably as much as she hated him.

Great, her break was ruined now. He’d make her life hell if she didn’t do this, he’d drown her under work. She’d be at the office until late, which was a bummer.

She rolled her shoulders, feeling how tense she was. She needed to relax a little, and she had just the right idea in mind to relieve some tension.

Biting on a croissant and standing, she typed a text on her phone to Dorian. He was her boyfriend, in a way. He technically was doing all the things a boyfriend did, he slept over at her place most of the times, took her out for dinner and other dates. Hell, she’d even met his dad.

And he was alright, and good at sex which was why she was texting him on her way to her office. But it wasn’t passionate. And she was pretty sure he wasn’t in love with her, and neither was she. It seemed like the perfect situationship she could ask for. She was too busy for an actual boyfriend anyway.

She grinned when he texted her back he’d wait for her at his place at ten in the evening. That was finally something to look for. She’d kicked ass these past few days in court, and she really deserved a good reward for it.

--

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s got you so tense?”

“No, shut up and get naked,” she whispered, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. It was late, and she needed the kind of high only a good orgasm would give her. He chuckled, unbuttoning her shirt. Gods, she wished he’d just rip it.

She believed it was the difference between good sex and amazing sex. The roughness, the words whispered or shouted. Not that she complained about the sex Dorian gave her, an orgasm was an orgasm. A guy knowing how to make a woman come was rare enough, she wouldn’t waste time being picky.

“How do you want me?” She breathed once his shirt was off, her hands undoing his pants buttons. He broke the kiss, panting and smiling.

“On top.”

She smirked, pushing him onto the bed after he got rid of his pants and underpants. She threw a condom at him as she got rid of the few articles of clothing she still had on. He sat on the bed, hands on her lips and he kissed her navel, his hand making its way between her legs.

Her hands shot for his shoulder, holding herself steady as he drew moans out of her. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back. She imagined that the kisses laid on her stomach were bites, that the fingers inside of her would be going faster, deeper and harder.

She needed more, needed more than just fingers. She pushed on his shoulders, having him lay on the bed. His fingers left her, and she opened the condom and rolled it over his cock. She hoovered over him, and sunk down unto him, not in the mood for teasing.

Her nails broke the skin of his chest as she moaned at the stretch. She started moving quickly, desperating searching that high she thought about the whole day. Dorian started thrusting up, their hips meeting.

His hands grabbed, caressed and touched every place of her body, and yet as she broke it didn’t feel enough. Her orgasm didn’t fulfill her the way she wanted it to, and even as she climaxed, she wanted more. Because then, maybe she’d feel satisfied.

She sat on his hips, sinking deeper and started rolling her hips, tearing moans out of both their lips.

“Fuck!” she cried as her phone started ringing, just as Dorian grabbed her hips and helped her fuck herself on him. One look at her phone had her groaning.

“Don’t pick up,” the man under her panted.

But that wasn’t an option, not when that asshole boss of her called her. She whispered in his ear, “Keep going.” And then grabbed the phone, answering the goddamn call.

“What do you want?” She asked, her voice was enough to make him understand that he was bothering her.

Dorian, under her, hesitated for a few seconds but then grinned, deciding to go along with it. She’d just tell Whitethorn to fuck off, so she could get fucked in peace.

“Half of those instruments are badly written Galathynius, is it the kind of professionalism you put into your work? If so, we might have to reconsider your place in this firm.”

The bastard. He’d called her one minute past midnight just so he could insult her.

She couldn’t explain the rush than ran down her veins; couldn’t explain why she didn’t just hang up.

“If you-“ She bit her lip, holding in a moan as Dorian hit deep inside of her. “If you wanted a show, you should have come to the courthouse.”

“As if I had time to watch you play.”

She chuckled, out of breath. She closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t hear the noises of body coming together. “T-too bad for you. I’m very good at playing.”

There was a long silence before he asked, “Where are you?”

She bit on her free hand, brow furrowed. She took a deep breath, “Gym, why? Want to come insult me there?”

“Insult?” He nearly sneered. “I just don’t stand for half-assed jobs when it put the reputation of what I’ve spent my life working on in peril.”

She hated him. Hated him so, so much. So much that his words had her clench around another man’s cock. “I won.”

“And yet you still show up the firm barely on time, you install non-professional relationships with your clients without mentioning how you walk through those goddamn walls as if you didn’t still have everything to learn. This is your problem, Galathynius, you refuse to learn, and it makes you so infuriat—”

“Oh, Gods, Rowan!” She screamed as Dorian hit deeper inside of her, and she fell over the edge a second time.

This orgasm lasted for what felt like hours, waves of pleasing hitting her over and over again, making it impossible to breath correctly. She might have been screaming the whole time, too. She wasn’t aware of anything other than the way her muscles relaxed, the feeling of numbness spreading through her veins.

It might have been seconds, minutes or hours when she regained consciousness. Only then, she realized that Dorian wasn’t moving anymore. She looked up, only to find him looking horrified, eyes on her phone which had fallen on the side of his head.

She rushed to grab it, only to realize she hadn’t hung up.

He’d heard her come.

And he’d heard her scream his name as she did.

She hit the red button, ending the phone call, and fell on the side of Dorian. She groaned, head in her hands.

She was so, so screwed.

••••••

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @elentiyawhitethorn // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @danibutterr // @endlessdaydream // @thegreyj // @gracie-rosee // @acreativelydifferentlove // @cretaceous-therapod // @louphantomdragon // @mis-lil-red // @backtobl4ck // @whoever-you-choose-to-love // @lemonade-coolattas // @mad-madeline-ace // @the-introverted-bibliophile // @leiawritesstories // @emilyoftheshadows // @anniesbookshelf // @rainbowcheetah512 // @astra-ad-mare // @story-scribbler // @superspiritfestival // @wordsafterhours // @rowaelinrambling // @black-daisy-water // @fireheart-violet // @livsdriverslicense // @charlizeed // @ladykreads // @mariamuses // @autumnbabylon // @justreadertings // @highqueenofelfhame // @earthtolinds // @bowdawn

[freakingoutthesquares]

Tigger Pissed On Me. Or: The skeletons in Pulp's Closet Words: Nick Griffiths Taken from Deadline, July 1992

Welcome to widescreen, stereophonic anecdote-drama, with extra special guests, Pulp. Meeting them is a privilege.

The scene

Bunjies Coffee House, London, aka "The Folk Cellar", where the strains (literally) of celebrated folk guru, Gary Numan, are piping through cappuccino stained speakers. Enter three members of Pulp, Sheffield's answer to strangeness in pop - proof that Sheffield at least has an answer to something. Someone once wrote that Pulp took the stage "looking like the escape party from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest", which was unfair. Drummer Nick's uncle is (the) Gordon Banks. Guitarist/violinist Russell maintains (misguidedly, even though he does stare a lot) that he is "the guy from Sparks". I suggest that singer/guitarist/object-of-impressionable-girls-desires Jarvis Cocker looks ever so slightly like Jimmy White. He does not take this as a compliment.

Skeleton One

RUSSELL: It was a snowy day and I was going to see a film. I arrived at the cinema, and there was a queue outside of about 20 people. I was behind this girl that I vaguely knew and l just started making conversation: "It's cold isn't it?: Yes it's cold: Very, very cold: Yes it is, very cold. Feel my cheeks." And I felt her cheeks and there's me thinking - cold, like a fridge - and I said, "Oh yeah, can I put my meat in your mouth?" People in the queue started turning round, and I'm holding her cheeks, and at that point the connotation of what I'd said dawned on me, so I tried to rectify it. The whole queue's watching me and I'm going - cause it's cold, like a fridge - I still had to stand there in that queue, cause to have gone off would have been admitting that was like, y'know... She never spoke to me again.

Skeleton Two

JARVIS: I once wore pink tights and a blonde wig for a school play, Twelfth Night. It was good though, because I got to feel the English teacher's breasts. We were doing a dress rehearsal and there was this bit where I had to make a gesture and land my hand on this girl's breasts. Which was a good part for me, cause I wore specs at school and had bad teeth, so I never used to get girls. But then she was ill this day and the English teacher, who everybody fancied, stood in for her. Halfway through the scene I realised I was going to have to grab hold of her tits. So I did, and everyone was going "What were it like? What were it like?"

ALL: What was it like?

JARVIS (Enviably nonchalant): It was alright.

Skeleton Three

JARVIS: Russell used to be a rocker. He used to be into Hawkwind (To Russell). Did you ever wear a lab coat?

RUSSELL: Ahem. No, I didn't actually, no.

JARVIS: And he used to have a very thin pencil moustache.

RUSSELL: I was in a heavy rock band called Isengard.

JARVIS: Isengard?

RUSSELL: It's a valley in Lord of the Rings.

Skeleton Four

JARVIS: Nick's got Nina Hagen written on his drum bag.

NICK: That was my friend's.

JARVIS: These are the excuses he comes out with.

NICK: I did go and see some very dodgy punk bands. I went to see Angelic Upstarts in Rotherham. Me and a couple of mates were right up for it. We got the tickets and on the day thought "Fookin 'ell, there'll be loads of skinheads there; we might get beaten up." I put on this punk T shirt to go down there and we decided to go in the back way in case there were loads of skinheads round the front. We got close to the entrance and still thought there may be loads of skinheads there, so we decided to go round to a friend's house and come back later. In the end we never actually got to the concert cos we were so scared of getting beaten up by skinheads.

Skeleton Five

RUSSELL: I got pissed on by a tiger on a school trip.

DEADLINE: What were you doing lying underneath a tiger?

RUSSELL: No, we were at the zoo and it was time to go, and I'm looking at this tiger and it's looking at me. It turned it's back on me and cocked its tail - and have you ever seen Tomcats spray? Tigers do it, like, big stylee. There was no escape from it: It was just like "Ppsssscchwooosshh". And I'm saturated in this tiger piss and it's like "time to go now". What do you do? I'm sat on this coach seat on me own and all the way back they were going "What's that horrible smell?". It's like "Oh, Miss, a tiger pissed on me". What can you say?

Skeleton Six

RUSSELL: I tried to fly. I used to have a cacky conservatory with a red and white striped awning made of plastic. And I decided to make it into a hang-glider - although hang-gliders weren't really invented at this stage; It was just a big kite. I made this massive thing about 15 foot long and I'm running up and down our road. like, jumping. And I took it on our school field and there's all these people watching me, and I'm running down it and I did start to take off, and it nosedived and landed on top of me. So I'm trapped underneath and I couldn't crawl out, and everybody's lying around laughing. Then I had to drag it back home and nobody would help me. I was really pissed off. Dragging this thing back like it was a bloody cross or something.

Skeleton Seven

JARVIS: I used to have loads of rubbish hobbies. I had collecting badges - nice big ones.

DEADLINE: What sort?

JARVIS: Oh, anything - double glazing... Even me Mother was always trying to get me to write to Swap Shop to be on it. She even knitted me a jumper and said, "You can put all your badges on that", Which I thought was sad. She asks me if I've still got it.

Skeleton Eight

JARVIS: We did our first ever concert at school. We decided we wanted to have dry ice, so we had a word with the chemistry teacher about it and he said, "Oh yeah, yeah, I'll sort you something out". We played this concert on the school stage and there was the chemistry teacher with two swotty kids, and he had a bunsen burner. And he kept getting a bit of magnesium ribbon and it'd just go 'pff'. And that was supposed to be pyrotechnics. It was like a little chemistry lesson at the side of the stage. A bit of green smoke that only went a couple of inches. Very tragic.

Actually Pulp are very cool

  Alvin Stardust (During his Shane Fenton period) slept on Jarvis' parents' floor.

  It's rumoured that Joe Cocker fitted Jarvis' parents' gas fire.

  One of Mike Harding's guitar strings hangs around a statue at Jarvis' parents house.

  Nick has met Ken Goodwin (All: Who?)

  Tony Christie used to live around the corner from Jarvis.

  Emlyn Hughes (allegedly) used to shag a woman who lived at the bottom of Jarvis' road. "It got to be known that he was doing it, so the kids used to gather around on a Sunday Morning and shout up at the bedroom window."

  Pulp are "deep personal friends" of Paul King.

  Jarvis has "done a fart next to Mike Edwards" of Jesus Jones. "It was this party in a pub. There were only two urinals; he went to use one, I went to use the other one. And you know when you do an involuntary fart when you're having a pee? There was nobody else to blame it on, and I wasn't finished, so I had to stand there looking embarrassed."

  Nick has drunk from the League Cup.

  Jarvis has Dixon of Dock Green's and Brian Clough's autographs.

  Nick: "Tommy Cooper once brushed past me"

  It's all getting a bit tenuous now, isn't it?

The Plug

Pulp have a sense of humour. Lots of other bands don't. The only reason they might gaze at their shoes onstage is to check that they've put their shoes on. Pulp could easily be the hippest band of this year, if only they could sort out their contractual wrangles and if only people would have heard of them. To say Pulp are refreshing live is like saying that Martin Amis is quite pretentious. They are a Bounty Ice Cream on a very hot day. Buy their new-ish "O.U." EP this instant, otherwise people will point at you and laugh.

Transcription: Acrylic Afternoons

[saving-ray-23]

BATGIRL (THREE)

The visit to Wayne Manor had gone well. Surprisingly well. She had left right before dinner, dropped off by Alfred despite her insistence that the bus station wasn't even far. They had asked her to stay, but Babs didn't want to risk overstaying her welcome. Instead, for dinner she had microwavable ramen and some Japanese energy drink that tasted like kelp. It wasn't the worst meal she had, but the snacks at Wayne Manor had spoiled her slightly in the past few hours, creating a small pit of regret in her gut.

The rest of the weekend was rather uneventful compared to her Friday with Dick Grayson. She tried her best to forget about the whole experience, doing her best to move on. To stop hoping that it would happen again. Because Babs wasn't about to make that mistake. Not after what happened last time she called someone friend.

__

It was Tuesday night and practice had been canceled because of the storm thundering all school day. Barbara was home before four and only started working on her homework an hour later, annoyed with the mere thought of more math problems to solve. She was good at math, but damn it was boring. Babs phone rang loudly as she chewed on her pencil, distracting her from staring at her calc homework. Stumbling over a forgotten shoe, she grabbed her phone off her bed before the second ring.

"This better be good." She breathed sarcastically, expecting her cousin to respond.

Instead, Dick Grayson's muffled snort rang through the phone, making her trip and nearly tip over her desk. "Detective Gordon, thank God. I have to report a crime— known criminal Jason Todd has stolen my favorite shirt."

Swallowing, she let herself play along. "Shit. I'll post an APB— maybe an Amber Alert. Tell me, Mr. Grayson, would you like to press charges?"

"Punish him to the fullest extent of the law. He's a wild animal, I tell you."

Babs couldn't help but giggle. "I'll put my best detectives on the case."

"That simply won't do, Detective. I must insist you come to Wayne Manor post hence."

"I think it's posthaste."

"Really? I always— agh, Jason!"

A thud rang from the other end of the phone, followed by a loud shout and what sounded suspiciously like "B said you're only allowed to bite pedos!"

Barbara laughed loudly, returning to sit on her desk chair and spinning as she waited for the commotion to end.

"Detective Gordon, the situation is escalating— he's taken my backpack hostage. I can't do my homework now!"

"What an utter travesty." She deadpanned, glaring at her own homework taunting her from the desk.

"Detective, I beg of you— come save this damsel in distress!"

She huffed, wondering if he was still joking around. "For real?"

"The realest, Detective. I'm making a citizen's arrest!"

"I'm half an hour away, Dick." She reminded, shaking her head. "And I'm pretty sure neither of us has a license— "

"Look outside your window."

Choking on air, Barbara peered through the window, eyes going wide as she saw the black car parked outside her house. And through the driver's seat, Alfred Pennyworth himself waved.

"Uh . . . I guess I'm on my way?" She finally said, unsure of herself.

"Thank God! See you in thirty-five minutes, Detective Gordon!"

__

"You don't even like Wonder Woman!" Babs heard as she walked into the foyer closest to the front entrance.

The place was a mess. A lamp was knocked over, but thankfully not broken, while more furniture surrounded it upturned or pushed against the bookshelves. Dick squared off with what seemed to be a middle-school aged boy, the latter glaring harshly. Dick, on the other hand, looked like he was fighting back a grin.

Spotting her in the doorway, Dick flat-out grinned, grabbing the child in a loose chokehold. "Detective, thank God! There's been an assault on top of the theft!"

"You said you were calling Gordon!" The younger boy yelped, wriggling in the hold and pouting. "Not some girl."

"Barbara Gordon, at your service." She introduced, trying her best not to laugh. "Jason Todd, I presume?"

Moving, and therefore dragging Jason with him, Dick met her in the middle of the room, still smiling. "This is the little thief!"

Peering down at Dick's adoptive brother, Barbara let herself wink at Jason before imitating the serious expression the Commissioner always had on. "The only criminal I see is you, Richard Grayson."

"Huh?" Jason squinted up at her, while the smile dropped comically from Dick's face.

"I'm an angel!" Dick exclaimed, dropping his brother in the process.

"Richard Grayson, you're wanted in seventeen states." She joked, placing a hesitant hand on Jason's shoulder. "Parkour without a permit, badgering an officer of the law— "

"I've never so much as done a somersault— "

"Lying under oath— " She added, glancing at Dick's brother. "Anything to add, agent Todd?"

"Agent?" Dick dramatically shouted, faking a confused expression.

"That's right— Agent Jason Todd, bitch!" The kid shouted, jumping on one of the only upright pieces of furniture, a heavy-looking couch. The Wonder Woman shirt he wore nearly fell to his knees and red shorts peeked out from underneath, flapping with his other attire as he laughed.

"Swear jar!" Dick shouted, laughing. "I'm telling Bruce!"

"Then I'm telling him about what really happened to the roses!"

The two glared, before Dick sighed. Loudly.

"Truce?"

Instead, of answering, the younger ran from the room, his footsteps echoing through the Manor. Dick looked at Barbara sheepishly, hand running through his hair. "Care to give me an assist, Detective?"

"I don't typically work with criminals . . . " She fought the urge to smile. "However, in exchange for one of those sick Wonder Woman tees, I might be willing to cut a deal."

The two grinned at each other before moving towards the closest couch, setting it upright with an embarrassing struggle.

"So," She began, fixing the lamp. "That's your little brother, huh?"

"As of two months ago." He shrugged, avoiding her eyes. "He's a pain ninety-eight percent of the time."

"And the other two?"

"He's . . . alright. For an twelve-year-old, at least."

Babs suddenly felt very old, thinking of Jason Todd running through the halls in his brother's shirt, probably causing trouble. She remembered being twelve; back then, she still slept in her uncle's tee-shirts and kept at least two stuffed animals with her every night. And while she swore she still had some old toys stashed away in the attic, she had long ago bought her own pajamas to sleep in. Posters covered the bright purple walls she loved when she was nine and all the books the Commissioner would read to her before bed had been replaced by mystery novels and notebooks that were a step from falling apart.

"Earth to Barbara— "

Blinking, Barbara came back to reality. "Sorry, I was just . . . "

"Thinking about how awesome I am?" He joked, righting the last piece of wronged furniture.

"Wondering if I left the stove on."

"Did you?"

She shrugged, awkward. "Probably."

"Well," He boomed, slinging an arm over her shoulder. "I think we've earned a movie marathon, Detective."

"Disney or Pixar?" She asked as they walked.

He snorted, shaking his head. "Is that even a question?"

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

So this year, we're getting yet another GHOSTBUSTERS movie in the re-rebooted franchise, and a new Star Wars feature film looks to shoot later this year for a penciled-in May 2026 release.

I see a lot of skepticism on the internet over these particular developments, and I think a lot of it is rooted - in some way or another - in a legitimate concern. It seems most of the consensus on GHOSTBUSTERS: FROZEN EMPIRE, and its 2021 predecessor GHOSTBUSTERS: AFTERLIFE, is that it's taking a simpler property way too seriously. Treating it as if it's some serious legacy franchise, that has to be honored to the letter. Like it's... Star Wars!

I have yet to see GHOSTBUSTERS: AFTERLIFE, I'm actually really not that big of a Ghostbusters person. I had seen the first movie a while ago and thought, "Yeah, that was kinda cool." But that's about it. I didn't remember it having a presence when I was a kid in the '90s. I do know that there was a cartoon airing on Saturday mornings in the late '90s called EXTREME GHOSTBUSTERS (how of the era!), but I never watched it. So, yeah... Ghostbusters is not exactly my jam, but I do think there is some overreacting going on here regarding this new movie.

I totally get it, though. GHOSTBUSTERS III stalled and stalled and stalled, and then Harold Ramis - Egon - passed away, so Sony/Columbia opted to just reboot it entirely with a different continuity... And with four women playing the Ghostbusters, only to get greeted with nothing but contempt. Regardless of the 2016 movie's quality, it created this aggressively no-nuance situation where it was this ultra-hated movie (for all the wrong reasons) and that YOU - if you weren't a raging misogynist racist asshole - were morally obligated to LIKE the movie... Regardless of what you thought of it, in terms of its quality. Ya know, script, acting, direction, etc. The movie ended up flopping, so there was no future in this team, though they did appear in an IDW-published comic thereafter.

So, Jason Reitman, son of the franchise's co-creator Ivan Reitman, started a "true" third Ghostbusters that took place in the same continuity as the first two movies and brought back the remaining actors to play the Ghostbusters... Passing the baton to a group of kids, two of which were girls. Sort of treating it all as a legacy brand, which I understand can be annoying to those who feel like GHOSTBUSTERS - the 1984 movie - was at its core a small-scale comedy and not this worldwide thing. At the time, I definitely saw that particular movie as spite. A sort of kowtowing to the angry male nerds who honk "WOKE" like a defective goose at everything. But that apparently was not the case during production, it was just... Ghostbusters is a franchise, and in capitalism... Things *must* continue (facetious), even if it's well past its expiration date. An animated Ghostbusters movie is also in the works, which is being done up at Sony Pictures Animation... And me? I think this concept works great in animation, and after all, the cartoons are an important part of the whole thing so... Yeah, I'll likely see the animated Ghostbusters movie. I think exploring that universe in the animated medium might be a fresh spin on a chestnut property. Heck, SPIDER-MAN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE came off of *three* theatrical live-action iterations of the character, so you never know!

This FROZEN EMPIRE sequel, I'm just indifferent. It exists. Someone will like it, for sure. AFTERLIFE did pretty well at the box office amidst the Delta and emerging Omicron variants of COVID-19. I was working the box office the week it came out, and I had a family come up to me to get their tickets for it... All dressed as Ghostbusters, complete with a homemade proton pack. And I thought to myself, "That's what it's aaaall about."

Star Wars, admittedly, has gone in directions that I just don't care for. The last movie I genuinely had a good time with in the franchise was SOLO: A STAR WARS STORY, which was already a very safe and workmanlike movie. The cast and old school space western vibe save it. Despite what we now know what it's like to work under Phil Lord and Chris Miller (as made clear by the stories that got out on ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE), I honestly would love to see what their version of that story would've looked like... But, we ultimately didn't receive that movie, so... And of course, I really liked THE LAST JEDI. Really liked how Rian Johnson took the franchise, which was becoming well-worn, and cracked it open and took a look at it with a fresh new perspective. And naturally, it was hated beyond belief, and mostly by the usual suspects... I think such a fervent backlash played a part in how Lucasfilm and Disney went forward with this franchise.

So when THE RISE OF SKYWALKER came out, I also took it as spite. Bowing to the angry assholes who just couldn't stomach that the franchise featured people other than white guys and had something more important to say. I was quite pissed off with how they significantly dialed down Rose Tico into a nothing character, instead they gave more time to this new character - whose name I, no shock, forget - who was played by some friend of J.J. Abrams that won a bet during development... Like, what the hell was that all about? Also didn't care for a number of things that just got... Thrown at you. It felt like it was made in panic mode, a Disney-mold please-all movie to end the sequel trilogy and the entire Skywalker saga as a whole. I could go on and on, but I wasn't necessarily upset with developments like "Rey is actually related to Palpatine"... They just come too late and are super-undercooked, all of it in one 2 1/2-hour movie that was following two movies that were saying and building up to something entirely different. The death of Carrie Fisher certainly didn't help, either. I didn't hate THE RISE OF SKYWALKER per se, I was left feeling "whatever"... Like... What the hell was that?

So I didn't bother with THE MANDALORIAN and anything else thereafter, in terms of live-action. And it appears that the Mando side of things informs the franchise going forward. The new movie is called THE MANDALORIAN & GROGU, and that just tells me everything I need to know. I'm curious about the movie featuring Rey 15 years later, that's to be directed by Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy. James Mangold could possibly make something cool out of his ancient Jedi movie, but... Honestly, it's all a big bag of "who cares" to me. With a universe so big and wide, with all kinds of planets everywhere... why does it always have to be about the Skywalkers, the Jedi, etc.? Just give me a Disney+ National Geographic-style documentary about banthas, that would be infinitely more interesting to me. That's why STAR WARS: VISIONS is on my watch-list, like... Enough about the Skywalkers and the Jedi already...

But, Star Wars is owned by big bad Disney. And Disney is going to milk this franchise until audiences collectively get sick of it. Sure, there has been plenty of Star Wars media made before the Disney buyout of Lucasfilm: Comics, video games, novels. It's always been around in some way or another, but I feel Disney just doubled-down on it. Probably because of the abundance of movies made and the amount of shows they're cranking out.

And then I try to place myself in 1977, when STAR WARS first came out. The original movie, before any sequels, before any TV specials, before the added "A NEW HOPE" subtitle, etc....

STAR WARS, alongside Steven Spielberg's JAWS and CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND, are often seen as the end of "New Hollywood" and the beginning of the blockbuster era of Hollywood... And yet, STAR WARS was being made before that all really took off. When George Lucas and his crew were planning and shooting what would become the first movie, how they would they have known what kind of monster it would create? Not just the Star Wars franchise as a whole, but the blockbuster in general. JAWS was the only "blockbuster" at the time of this movie's making, having grossed over a record $130m domestically in 1975. In 1976, the highest grossing movie was ROCKY, with $55m. STAR WARS was one of those movies where it was looking like it was going to be this big mistake, this big flop. Who in 1977 wanted to see some pulpy kid-friendly space adventure movie? By late 1976, the movie industry was still in the era of adult auteur-driven films. Dramas, political thrillers, and smaller pictures that would be called "prestige pictures" today. Films that would struggle to make $50m domestically in 2024, let alone be released in theaters. It was the era of THE GODFATHER, TAXI DRIVER, DOG DAY AFTERNOON, THREE DAYS OF THE CONDOR, etc. Isn't it something that those kinds of movies were once regularly the biggest hits at the box office? And you wonder why Martin Scorsese voiced his concerns about Marvel movies...

You look at STAR WARS, and it is indeed part of that waning era of American cinema. At first glance, it's a kids' space adventure movie featuring a WIZARD OF OZ-esque band of weirdos, where people fight with laser swords and there's ships flying around... But it's actually, through and through, a 1970s movie. It's informed by Lucas' politics, the Vietnam War, the Richard Nixon administration... And to think that people complain that the franchise had gotten too political or too "woke" under Disney's ownership? Don't make me laugh.

In a way, you kind of come to realize... Well, this little space movie from the 1970s somehow became the highest-grossing movie ever for a period of time (Steven Spielberg's E.T. took the record in 1982), it spawned two sequels and a few TV specials and cartoons... And tons of comic books and novels and toys... And then three more movies, and more cartoons, and more movies, it's now owned by a massive multimedia conglomerate that wants MORE MORE MOOOOOOORE of it out there... And well... Capitalism. It becomes big, new people take it over every now and then, it's soooooooo far removed from the little anti-Vietnam War space movie it was in 1977 that could've gone down as an embarrassing box office disaster and subsequent cult classic.

And then you realize when it's time to get off the train, and quit going after the wrong people, aiming for the wrong targets. In that, the thing wasn't ruined, it's just so big now that it's not its earliest roots. When I see these new Star Wars things that throw in cameos and try very hard to play to fans who want Star Wars done up in a very specific way, I can't get too too angry... Because this whole "Star Wars, the way you've always loved it" thing seems to fundamentally misunderstand what the original movie, NOT the Original Trilogy, was in 1977. Repeating the past, instead of being someone's unique vision informed by the events of the era it was made in. It became a franchise, but it's okay to say when it's time to cap it off and go watch something else.

I extend this to my current gripes with Walt Disney Animation Studios and the majority of Disney's modern movie output that isn't Pixar, 20th Century Studios, and Searchlight. WDAS may never be what it was a few decades ago, it'll certainly never be what it was under Walt's watch. I can gripe all I want about their recent films not entirely doing it for me, but I can still look for the things I like (for example, STRANGE WORLD had some really cool stuff in it, have yet to see WISH all the way through) and hope for the best next time. "The best", as in, a picture I really really dig and cherish. Even if I may not get just that. The reality is, these things grow and balloon way beyond what they started out as, and many different people are now involved, money drives it all, and thus those in charge take it the direction that they THINK is the right direction. It's never easy to guess what it is the audience might want or will like, ya know?

Sometimes things are truly special before they blow up into something else where there's too much money at stake and too many people making what they feel are the right decisions... Sometimes those things can still be special, too...

[mythicalsanctuarysodor]

Happy late James day! Have a pic and a fic for my lateness-

(Warning! Under the cut is a fanfic that may contain topics sensitive to some readers, read tags for more info. Otherwise, you have been warned, read at your own choice.)

James smiled and waved as he saw Gordon, Duncan and Sir Bertrum board the train out to the mainland, Edward and Henry standing at his sides were doing the same as the old stallion and forest spirit wished them good luck. Once the train had left the other mythos were left with their own plans for the day, Edward was taking his wife into town so they could go furniture shopping for their new house, Henry was finally ready to go into the forest he once called his home, Thomas was going to do a bit of expansive exploring around the island, Percy was going to visit the Skarloey, and their jockeys were going to hang around the docks chatting with old friends.

James however had a train to catch as he was going to the mainland for a visit, when the others questioned him his answer was- “I always wanted to learn a little bit of alchemy, and now is the best time with all the classes popping up.” They bought it as it also was to explain why he would be gone for a few days. With suitcases in hand James’s own train to Manchester was coming in, the others wished him luck as the unicorn boarded the coach.

James made sure to get a coach that had compartments so he wouldn’t take up to much space, he had a long way from Sodor to Horwich after all. So he sat his luggage on the seat and laid down in the middle of the compartment. As the train carried on, after an hour someone knocked on the compartment door, James looked up from a book he was reading to see a human there, James was honestly expecting a mythic to join him before a human would.

“Hello, do you mind? Everyone else is full.” The man said. “Sure, though I apologise for the tight space.” James said as his body didn’t quite take up the whole small isle but there was enough space for two humans. The man smiled and sat down on the opposite seat to James’s luggage. James was about to go back to his book when the human decided to engage in small talk.

“So, where are you heading?” “I’m heading back home to Horwich, I’m hoping to still find some family there.” James said. “Ah,” the man smiled and nodded then got a notepad and pencil out and began writing down what James had told him. The crystal mythic found this strange and asked about it, “Do you record your conversations with people?” “Oh! Sorry, no-no I’m a mythology professor in Manchester, ever since the new law many of my colleagues have been jumping at the chance to talk to as many mythic as possible to record things while their still fresh.” “Ah! Well in that case I’m one to brag and boast, if you have questions I’d be happy to answer, professor…?” “McGlynn, Oswald McGlynn.” The man said extending his hand for a shake. “James, James Shire!” James smiled and gently shook his hand.

The first thing Oswald did was gasp when he got a good look as James’s hand and arm, as the unicorn was wearing a short sleeve dress shirt and vest today. “My goodness your arm, is this solid gemstone?” Oswald asked. “Yes it is, 100% ruby and my tail and frills are flecks of gold.” “Good gracious you’re a walking few million pounds! You must have done something extraordinary before boarding this train.” “Not really, I did mixed traffic work on a railway off of Barrow-in-Furness, granted I did pull the express there a few times but otherwise it was mainly goods work with some passenger trains mixed in.” “So you were an industry mythic?” “I guess I still am, because our owner offered us to still work there if we wanted, I said yes and he’s given me a few months to get my interests in order.”

This confused Oswald, he had gotten the impression that many industry mythic had been glad to leave their old jobs behind. “Why are you still working there? I’ve seen several reports of mythic loathing their old jobs they were forced into.” “My boss was actually rather fair compared to what I’ve heard about other railways, and he still is fair by giving us proper wages, heck, I did just say he’s giving me a few months to get my things together before going back to work.” “True, I guess there are a few good eggs out there. But moving on, since you’re an industry mythic, were you paired with a locomotive?” “I was, a Lancashire and Yorkshire class 28.” “So how did you get from that railway to the one you’re on now?” “That particular class of locomotive was riddled with problems, and mine was chosen to have some modifications done. They worked, but they didn’t have enough money to do it on the others. So I was eventually sold off to the railway I work on now when they needed a quick cash grab.” “Sounds like that was for the best in the end.” “Absolutely, my best years are with my current home.”

As Oswald scribbled down his notes he then moved onto a more personal topic. “If you don’t mind this next topic, I was wondering if you could tell me about you personally. Like… your middle name, last I knew working class mythic didn’t get family names and rarely got proper names at all.” “Ah! Well… I was wild caught truth be told, my herd had its own language and when my name was translated it meant supplanter, and the human name James means supplanter. As for my surname, I just needed something to write on my new birth certificate, so since Yorkshire and Lancashire both ended in ‘Shire’ I chose that. It also makes sense because I’m a horse.” James explained with a chuckle. “Alright, then what about your heritage? I’ve never seen a unicorn made out of minerals before, so are you from an area with caves?”

James seemed to pause at that question. Back when he first arrived at the NWR he got asked that frequently, eventually people just stopped asking but it was always still a mystery in the air of what James 100% was. “It’s… complicated. I’m sorry but this isn’t one I’d like to answer.” “No need to apologise, I understand that some things of the past should stay there. But if you can’t tell me that then I would like to ask how you maintain your body, do you need to eat rubies or gold? Or what is your diet in general? I couldn’t help but notice you also have wrather sharp teeth.” “Well to answer the whole thing about my food I’d have to say I’m an omnivore like you, I can eat my fruit and meats. Not rocks however, my body isn’t the you are what you eat factor.” “If you don’t mind me asking then, how do you bathe? Do you polish the rock or do you just run it under water?” “Run it all under water and then dry the gem part with a special towel.”

Oswald then got to the last few questions he had. “Okay, last few, and the most awkward of all. How do you court and mate?” “We’re still not barn animals so I wouldn’t say ‘mate’, but to answer that question my species specifically reproduces asexually, using a method akin to how most industry mythic were born except instead of using a female or female equivalent they put the beginning embryo into a large crystal, and it gestates from there. As for dating? My species are technically gender fluid or don’t identify with any gender so we don’t mind who we date as long as they’re the right person, but me personally I’m not looking for any love at the moment.” Oswald smiled as he put a firm dot at the end of his last note. “Thank you very, very much James, I’m hoping this will help my classes understand mythic better. Um, if I could interest you, would you like to come to the university I work at for a live demonstration? You’ll be paid and such.” Oswald handed James his card. “I’ll definitely consider it, it was fun getting to talk about myself for an hour or so.” James said as he checked his pocket watch. Oswald was surprised to, checking his own wrist watch. “Oh my the time flew by fast, my stop should be coming up soon.”

James did his best to stretch as his own stop would be coming soon as well. “Well if you get off before me I want you to take this.” James made a small square plate of ruby form in his hands that had some odd pictures but also some numbers on it. “This is so I can just teleport into your class room if you place it on the floor, it also has my crystal ball sigil and phone number on it, but I might not be me answering the phone, just ask for me if not.” Oswald was amazed! He just saw James do magic and he didn’t even think to ask about that! He took the ruby with glee and carefully wrapped it in cloth before packing it in his brief case. “Thank you very much James, and who knows, maybe now having a sigil will give me an excuse to use a crystal ball or magic mirror.” Oswald said as he got up and saw his stop approaching. “Well this is my stop, it was a pleasure talking with you James.” “Likewise! If only more humans were like you, we would be a lot further along than we are now.” Oswald chuckled as he smiled and left the coach, waving to James.

Once James was on his way again he began to dread reading the signs of the stations as they came up, but eventually he found the one he was looking for… Horwich. He began to collect his things and climbed out of the coach, to his surprise he saw a lot of mythic walking around on the platform, working as ticket sellers, maintenance, he even saw who looked like a tall faun hybrid as the station master. Regardless he trotted off and began to search around, he remembered some of the tracks but a lot of them had been paved over by roads, now the only ones really around were tramway tracks. But as he undoubtedly knew, all tracks lead to the place where engines run, so he followed them across roads and past other landmarks he used to know until he was standing in front of the brick building of Horwich works.

He trotted in to try and see if he knew anyone there, it was being cleared out as the working class mythic that would have previously lived there were moving out. And to his surprise he did see someone he recognised, a brother in steel as they were paired with the same engine type but weren’t biologically related. “12517?” James asked. The unicorn centaur turned around from the other mythos he was addressing and gasped when he saw James, “12520?! Holy cow! What?!” The centaur trotted up to James and pulled him into a tight hug. “Brother it has been decades! Where have you been? Is this a new gemstone? What’s with the solid red look? Why have you come back? Do you have a name now?” James laughed as he hugged back and even ruffled his brothers short hair. “Haha! It’s good to see you again to big brother! To answer your questions- A railway on an island from Borrow-in-Furness, yes it is new and the gem is ruby, I went for a solid red look since I asked for a new colour after I had a bad crash, I wanted to see my family in steel again, and yes! I was christened that nickname I insisted you all called me back in the day, my name is James!”

The class 28 unicorn chuckled and trotted around James in a playful manner. “Well James, it’s nice to finally say that’s your name, the old managers here will be furious! As for me, my name is Jacob! Just got it on paper a few days ago actually.” Jacob laughed. “Jacob? My name is a derive from that name, they both mean ‘supplanter’, did you struggle to come up with a name or something?” James asked actually feeling a little offended that his brother would just copy his name. “Actually… all of us choose a name beginning with ‘J’, it was so we could honour you. You were the most gutsy of us to insist you had a name and hardly responded to anything else.” Jacob winced as he remembered those punishments James would get if he didn’t listen to his industrial name.

James grimaced and squirmed under his clothes, remembering those days of his youth well. But he pushed it aside at the feeling of pride that his brothers and sisters would name themselves after a similar theme to his own name. But just then a shout came from an office door, “52530! Quit your gossiping and get back to work!” Jacob jumped as it seemed a manager was addressing him. “Yes sir! Right away sir!” Jacob was about to gallop off but James skipped in front of him and stopped him. “Woah, woah, woah! Hold your horse Jacob, what does he mean by work?” “I’ve been pulling wagons of living stuff for the other mythic that have been moving out, there’s a lot to get through, would you like to give me a hand?” Jacob asked. “Did you somehow manage to open a moving company in the span of a few days ago from getting your name on official paper?” “What? No.” “Then why are you moving other mythic’s crap and not just your own?” “Because I was told to?”

James facepalmed at his brother, the clink of ruby on ruby from his hand to his horn not being very subtle. “Jay… that kind of defeats the purpose of what this whole mythic rights thing has done for us, you don’t have to do anything that manager tells you to do! Did you ask the other mythic if they wanted help with moving out?” “No.” Jacob said. “Did they ask you and you agreed to help?” “No.” “Are you only doing it because that man told you to?” “Yes.” “Those mythic are grown adults they can sort their own moving situation out, now. Where is your crap? I’ll help you pack and we can get you started on getting out of here.”

Jacob looked to be thinking to himself as James could see the gears turning in his brothers head when they heard another shout from the manager. “52-!” “How about getting off your own fat ass and doing it yourself you lazy git! He doesn’t work for you anymore and his labour is not for free!” James shouted causing the whole works to go silent. The manager in question standing in the office door stood completely out and marched right up to James with a furious scowl. “Who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that centaur?” the man yelled. “I am this stallions brother in steel, that’s who the hell I know I am, and who do you think you are demanding things of him? He’s not your worker, his time is not a charity, if you want him to be a moving service you’d better start paying him.” “I’ve been his manager for the past five decades, so when I tell him to do something, he does it!” the man shouted. “In case your dead braincells in the back maybe didn’t hear, the only manager your of- is the bacteria in this tetanus hot spot! You have no power here! Come on Jay, show me your stuff and we can blow this joint.”

James grabbed Jacob’s arm and started walking further into the works for Jacob to show him where he was staying. “So, where’s your stuff?” James asked only to not hear a word from Jacob. When he looked back he saw his brother quietly crying to himself, tears dripping off his cheeks. James stopped and addressed his brother again, “Jay? Hey Jacob? Come on bro use your words.” To his surprise, Jacob shoved James away from him, huffing as his face became red from anger. “What good has words ever done? All the words I tried to say to you just always went right over your head! I was always getting in trouble for you James, and even after fifty years you still haven’t changed! I’m still going to be getting in trouble for you!” James looked hurt but also confused. “Jacob, you shouldn’t be getting in trouble because of me, not back then and sure as dam hell not now. If you think you have to cop that on the chin still your wrong, you can walk away no matter how much he yells at you because for once in your life he has no power over you. You just saw what I did, I don’t have to take anything from him, you’re in my shoes now, you don’t have to take it ether.”

Jacob still cried. “It’s not that easy James, fifty years doesn’t just disappear like that.” “I know! Thirteen sure as hell weren’t off my back the second I left here, and you coped a tongue lashing while I endured a literal lashing, I was broken and shattered so many times Jay, I was most of the time in too much pain to even move because they never allowed me a second to just let the part of me connected to the stone actually heal, you remember why I was so bad at magic back then? That was because the migraines made it physically impossible for me to even conjure the will with how many times they broke my horn. I was in a hell Jay… it took me more than thirty years, if I can get over it, I know you can to. Granted, it’s obviously not going to be the same journey as mine, far from it. Like you said, that’s fifty years that’s not going to go away overnight. But where do you think beginning to recover starts? You’ve already been given the push, you just need to take the first step.” James held onto his brothers shoulders as he spoke to Jacob, having the older stallions full attention.

Jacob looked to be in thought again and this time James covered his ears so no outside source could cut him from them. It took a minute or two but eventually Jacob whipped his tears, then guided James to the back of the works where his personal belongings were. They were in a large gym bag, packed and ready to go. “This all?” James asked. “Yeah… I didn’t bother much for personal possessions that I couldn’t carry on my person.” “Fair, you lived in a work shop after all.” James picked up Jacob’s luggage and they began to trot out. “Are any of our other siblings here?” James asked. “No, I was the only one who stayed here, everyone else were in sheds.” “You have a new living arrangement sorted out yet?” “There’s a local mythic shelter, I was going to crash there while I get my bank details in place for the money.” James gasped and instantly shook his head. “Oh hell no, no brother of mine is staying in a shelter until he gets his life together. You can crash at my place, I kind of went over board when making it and now it’s just that bit too big.” Jacob was surprised. “James seriously, you don’t have to take me in.” “Bull shit, I have an obligation out of love to. Plus, if your still looking for hauling work, the place I’m at is still looking for hires, we’re wrather short on unicorns.”

Jacob thought about is for a second before smiling and nodding. “Alright it couldn’t hurt to live with family. So, where is your new place?” “It’s on an island past Barrow-in-Furness, the island of Sodor.” “I’ve heard of Sodor, its alongside the isle of man isn’t it?” “It is!” “Huh… well it’s a little far but if your happy with it than it must be worth it.” “Great! I can teleport us there now.”

James erupted a 10ft stalagmite of ruby from the ground, it’s red glow being a sign of imbued magic. “Holy cow! You figured out how to teleport?” Jacob asked. “My own way of teleporting, yes. I still can’t do it the way you lot can though.” James said as he began to walk through the ruby with Jacob following him. When they got to the other side, they were in James’s front yard on a large property of land with farm land and horse paddocks in the surrounding area.

“Woah… I see what you mean when you say you’ve made it to big.” Jacob commented. “This isn’t what I meant. I knew I wanted a large bit of land because, well come on, we’re half horses. What I meant when I said I made it to big was my house.” James said as he began walking up the hill and gesturing for Jacob to follow. The unicorn stallion did and when he was over the hill he could now 100% see what James had meant, on the top of the property after a small hill was a giant mansion made with all variants of gemstone and other such materials, plants climbed up the walls and made archways, some bricks sporadically had a shine to them, the windows were all stained glass around the rims with wooden windows having carved details, there were towers around the roof reminiscent of old castles with many balconies, and the pathway lights were designed to ether be glowing plants or gems that would light up at night. Jacob was amazed at how much effort looked to have gone into this, like it was ripped right out of an old times fantasy novel that a matriarch would live in.

“Sweet Jesus fucking Christ…” Jacob whispered out loud. “Regret choosing to come with me yet?” James asked cockily as he began to walk up to the front door. “I’m beginning to trust your judgment more and more despite knowing I shouldn’t.” Jacob said quickly trotting to catch up with James. “Trust me dear brother when it comes to architecture, I am a king at it.” James said as he opened the door and let themselves in.

To Jacob the inside was no better than the outside, archways that connected the rooms were heavily detailed in different themes of pictures, large centaur sized leather sofas lined the living room walls with a giant magic mirror mounted on the wall, the stairs were all with decorated railing, marble floors with some carpets and rugs in the appropriate rooms, and again, everything looked like a palace!

“Upstairs are the bedrooms, study, library, studio, theatre, and entrance to the veranda out back, though there’s an entrance on this level to. Bathroom on this level is over on that side, and there are bathrooms with all the guest rooms. Master bedroom is on the third floor, if you need me during the night that’s where I’ll be. Kitchen and living room are to the right as you can see, I don’t have much food kept yet but there are a few quaint café’s down the road if you get hungry at the moment. Theres a pool and fountain at the back along with a garden, there’s also a river and pond, I don’t recommend swimming in there because there are a few fish. The only rules I have off the bat are don’t go down stairs, there’s a magic stone there that leads to my personal forge, and my bedroom is off limits unless you get my say so. Otherwise, that’s the whole place. If you want to explore the bedrooms and pick one go right ahead.” James said as he whipped his hooves on the carpet and left his luggage at the front door.

Jacob almost dropped his bag in surprise at how massive the place was, he swore he was walking through a modern palace with how everything looked. “Do you have anyone else living here?” Jacob asked. “No not yet, I haven’t shown any of my friends this place yet but I want to offer them it while their own homes are being built. The majority of them have been getting personal stuff out the way first like healthcare and marriages.” “Understandable. So, what do you want to do first?” Jacob asked. “I actually wanted to immediately head back out, back to Horwich.” “Why? We just came from there.” “I know. I wanted to visit the works first to see if any of you were there and needed help, but I wasn’t just there for the works.” “Really? What else then?”

James gave Jacob a saddened expression. “You remember I’m wild caught right?” “Yes, but what-” Jacob then had an idea of what James was getting at. “Oh! Are you going to try and find your birth family?” Jacob asked. “I know where they are, it’s just a journey I have to take alone. There are some sides of my past that I don’t want you or quite frankly anyone else seeing, and I especially want to have some time with my mother.” Jacob was surprised; even when they were kids James hardly ever talked about his life before he was captured and ran through the trade. Back then James wasn’t even any kind of gemstone, he was just ore rock with a few things from metal to precious stones sticking out of him and he didn’t speak English.

“Okay… I can hang around here for a bit while you’re out. How long do you think you might be gone?” Jacob asked. “I might be gone for a few days if I’m being completely fair… I’m hoping to broaden my knowledge on my unique magic and also catch up with many people.” James admitted. “Where will you be going?” Jacob asked causing James to slope his shoulders and look rather pensive. “Do you remember Aspull pumping pit?” James asked. Jacob gasped, “The pumping pit? What on earth could you want with down there?” “That’s where I was found and roped. And it’s not the pit itself I’m there for, it’s the local mines in the area that the pit drained. Down those mines are where my craft of magic comes from.” Jacob looked very concerned. “Just… please little brother, come back home, preferably in one solid piece.” James hugged Jacob before handing him a cut of the house keys. “I’ve got a wave point set in the back yard, I’ll come back through there when I arrive home, you’ll know it when you hear it. In the studio I’ve got multiple clothes I’ve made that you can try on and have, the completed ones are in a walk in closet, try those on. But I recommend having a shower first. Here’s 500, feel free to use that at the café’s I mentioned. If it’s an emergency here's my personal sigil, you have plenty crystal balls around here to use. And feel free to study up on some magic if you like.” James said handing over a paper and some bills. Jacob smiled and hugged James again before watching him leave back through the ruby he made, once he was gone, Jacob got to searching for a bedroom to pick.

With James he had teleported back to Horwich works, and when he came back through the crystal he immediately shattered it into a red sand that blew away in the wind. Now it was just the long walk to the old pumping pit.

This proved to take under an hour though, much to James’s surprise as he remembered it being a lot longer. Once he was out of Horwich and had run across the train tracks he was into more open farm land as he came closer to Aspull, he followed the farmlands boarders until he came across the forest where the pump now resided in the middle of. He was aware of it’s closing in the 30’s and it now being abandoned, that made it all the more easier to James though.

When he finally found the pit, he was surprised to see how different it looked. The quiet forest a complete contrast to the horrid loud growling the pumps had made back in the day. The tubes gone, and the boilers gone to that operated the pistons. James walked over to the maintenance cover that sat in the ground almost sacrilegiously with how the old moss covered stones looked, he removed it and couldn’t help but shiver as he thought over how he was really doing this, no turning back now.

James gently poked one of the stone pillars, what grew from the spot was a flat plate of ruby. James lifted his luggage up to the mounted ruby and when the gem lit up James’s belongings were teleported through it, acting like a storage pocket dimension. With James unburdened of his packaging his clothing was next, he stripped of all the cloth on his body, leaving his skin and stone left. What was next was something not even his siblings in steel have seen, not even anyone from Sodor. James’s lower body of crystal that resembled a horses began to change and shift, the breaking and grinding of stone took over the silent forest as James began to morph.

Gone became of James’s horn and hooves, his legs becoming two and turning much more human minus the feet. He began to hover off of the ground as the rest of him changed, the gold glitter flow of his tail and frills disappearing and being relocated to his hair, a long whisp of a golden trail started falling from his scalp and trailed far behind him to drag close to the ground. The crystal that attached to his skin began to grow and cover his body more, growing down from his ears to his neck and connecting at his shoulders to his spine then at his new legs. Spikes of ruby grew from James’s more exposed sides of his shoulders and top of his arms, across his hips and even around where his ankles would be. Eventually the only skin that was left was James’s face, front neck, and front chest and ribs. But that wasn’t to say his organic parts didn’t change ether, James’s usually sharp teeth were sharper, turning from canines to outright fangs, his red eyes turning a more fire orange with white pupils and black sclera.

James looked at his hands once he was done, his nails now claws and the world looked so much more different to him now. He was annoyed by the daylight and the lack of any immediate magic around him besides his own made him practically blind on the surface, but underground was a very different story.

He gently lowered down the maintenance hole, and then closed it up once he was under the earth. Instantly his vision was much better, his eyes allowing his sight back once he was in a complete abyss. He lowered down to the bottom of the pit and searched his memory for the old tell-tale signs of caves, once he found where an old pipe used to be James’s old childhood memories came back to him, the routes and the curiosity he used to be so naïve with.

James followed the old holes where the pipes used to be, and eventually he found the water source they used to drain so long ago. James didn’t have any issues about breathing, so he dived into the water and swam through the underground rivers to where they lead. It took a long time, swerving the tight corners and sometimes resurfacing and travelling down the old abandoned mines before needing to dive back into the water again. But eventually, he found what he was looking for.

After another dive into water from a mine, this time the water sucked downward like the plug from a bathtub. James was taken down with it before he was spat out on the other side down a waterfall into a more open natural cave. He fell onto the stone with a thud and clink with a few shards of ruby breaking off, James groaned and just decided to lay there for a second while the pain subsided. That was until he saw something familiar.

Lining the wall above him, was a vain of sapphire. And it wasn’t a normal natural ore, it was like when he made his rubies appear, they had a magic aura to them that James saw as glowing. He instantly shot up from the floor and began to follow the sapphire down the cave, the more he followed the vain the more carved out the cave got, like it was shaping out to be a walk way or tunnel. It ended up being a muralled tunnel as different gemstones suddenly started showing up and forming a picture the further in James followed them.

Eventually he came to the mouth of the tunnel and when he was out the other end what greeted him was a massive miles upon miles long underground ravine with raging waterfalls and a river flowing at the bottom. But what was most surprising was that this ravine was inhabited, along the faces of cliffs and inside some more open spaces of cave were carved out houses into the rock faces. A massive architect of a bridge stretched across the two sides and more bridges roped across on some lower levels, and even from here James could see some species of mythic milling about and going about their days, it was a whole city and society, and it was his old home.

James felt like he wanted to scream with joy as he almost instantly recognised the layout, he was about two-fifths into the ravine and currently in the more middle class suburban area than the city. James knew he needed into the actual city itself and the closer to the capital he got the closer to his old house he’d get, so without any more time wasted, James bolted off down the path he was on to get to the bridges and cross them.

James’s speed made him seem like a sparkler as he ran down paths and roads, he spooked many of the mythic but didn’t stick around long enough to hear them out, quickly crossing town after town before he was rapidly approaching the capital. Once James got close enough to it’s boarders he slowed down considerably to take it all in, these were his city streets, this was his true home he remembered from fifty plus years ago.

As he rounded a corner he finally saw the ravines crown jewel, at the very end on a straight rock face, was a castle mounted on the stone. It had multiple spires and towers, thousands of windows, millions upon millions of fancy decorations, and it was all for one thing. A vampire clan.

Back in the late 18th century a vampire family business discovered a source of gold and coal at the top, and throughout all the mining down, they eventually came across this society of cave golems and other various types of underground mythic. Once they did they began asserting themselves as the ravines monarchy, eventually it didn’t become too uncommon to see bats down here and vampires joining into this society.

James remembered staring at that palace long ago when he was much, much younger. Someday hoping that his father would magically decide one day to come see him from that castle, so he could know who his other half was. James didn’t realise how intensely staring at it he was until someone broke his focus. “Quite the detailed place isn’t it?” A voice next to James said speaking in the local tongue. James quickly had to recollect his old language to answer them. “I-I’ve seen bigger.” James stuttered out hoping he wasn’t forgetting anything. “Are you okay? That came out rather odd.” A cave golem looking similar to James said but without the human flesh part. “Sorry, I haven’t spoken this language in a very long time. I went to the top for a while you see,” James explained to the crystal golem.

“You’ve seen up top-?” the golem seemed to stop himself in his tracks once he got a better look at James, noticing that he wasn’t 100% crystal. And to James’s surprise, he said his old name. “Zirconiame?” “Um, yes actually. Sorry though, have we meet?” “Zircon! Oh my boy it has been a very long time indeed! Yes we have meet, I was the sorcerer that tutored you, don’t you remember that?” James gasped when he did recognise the golem in front of him. “Mr Ospal! Yes I do remember! Sorry for not recognising you sooner, you’ve changed a bit since the last time I saw you.” James gave his old teacher a hug as he was happy to finally see a familiar face. Mr Ospal laughed while gently petting James’s back and setting him down, “I could say the same myself dear boy, your adorning ruby now? And your locks, weren’t they admitting coal dust before? And my you look much older, a lot like those vampires. It seems your mother was right when she said your vampire heritage would show up the more you got older, there’s no mistaking those fangs.”

James almost instinctively hushed his old teacher and began to guide him away from the public spot they were in. “Maybe still keep that vampire knowledge on the low, I don’t know how much has changed but I don’t want to take any chances.” “As your mother always said little Zircon- in little ways where everything stays, I agree keeping your heritage hush might be a good idea for a little while longer. But enough about that, where have you been? You disappeared one day and never came back. You said you came to the top?” Mr Ospal asked.

“The surface, yes. I didn’t listen to my mother’s words and went exploring up the waterfalls, I travelled up and up for hours before I finally found the surface. I was amazed by what I saw, these creatures were of warmer flesh than vampires and only had flat stones for moving on, they motioned with four legs on a long body and a large sharp rock stuck out from their heads and that’s how they casted magic! I ever so wanted to do what they did, pulling items with no magic at all, a whole new language, a whole new set of rules, it was all so exciting that I did everything I could to try and act like them. It worked, but not in the way I thought it would…” James grew sad at the old memories.

“I was wrapped up to tight in thick fabric chains, I was hurting before I knew it and wanted them to stop but they didn’t. I eventually just started crying and pleading with them to let me go but they understood none of my words as I was taken away into an order that didn’t allow me to come back home. Compared to them, they made the vampires appear as the water harmonies. It wasn’t until a few cycles ago did I finally have my freedom back and decided to come see down here again.”

Mr Ospel was horrified by James’s words, they had been told by vampires that creatures up top were much more horrid than they, and judging from James’s experience he was inclined to believe it. But regardless, at least he was home now, that was the good thing. “Well Zircon, I imagen your mother would like to hear it. She had never been the same since you had gone.” James became worried when he heard that, he could imagen his mother not taking it well. “Is she still where her old home was? I was on my way to her when I caught sight of the palace.” “No, she moved after a few years of your disappearance. She now lives down the deep halls of the palace.” James knew what the actual deep halls were, to the cave golem they were less personalised homes, but James knew better when he heard their descriptions, they were cells. His creator being in the palace cells made his heart pound he could feel his teeth begin to poke him gums. The anger in his body must have reflected strongly to his old teacher as Mr Ospel grew concerned.

“Zircon? What is the matter?” “Those deep halls are not something to be called homes, the vampires view them at an entirely different view. Do they except visitors to the deep halls?” “Yes they do, I visit her often. I was actually just on my way.” “May I accompany you?” “I was hoping you would.” Mr Ospel smiled as he began to lead the way to the palace entrance. They travelled over a few bricked roads before coming up to the bridges that entered the castle, James was nervous as he had seen what vampires were capable of up top and didn’t want to be involved in a fight with one despite him being half vampire. James covered the rest of his body in ruby so they wouldn’t become suspicious, but he was still on guard as he saw the entrance guards.

Mr Ospel spoke to them mainly and they let them in without issue, but soon a lone guard escorted them to the dungeons. When they were finally down to the cells, to James’s great shock his mother had a rather swanky prison, it had some flower plants around the room with glowing sunstones above them, a king sized bed in the middle with canopy, and despite the bars being open she could lower a privacy curtain if she wanted. James smiled when he saw her sitting on the bed, but saw that someone was in there with her sitting on the bed, it appeared to be a male vampire.

“Gemini, please… won’t you have something today?” The male vampire said in a tinge of a Scottish accent, causing James to grow concerned. Gemini wasn’t his mother’s name, and what was this about having something today? But Mr Ospel spoke up when he saw the two together however. “Sir Nightingale, how is she today?” Mr Ospel asked as they were let into the cell. “Ah! Mr Ospel, please I am hoping you can convince her to consume today.” It was obvious to James that this Sir Nightingale wasn’t all that fluent in gem-glyph, making him think this man was a doctor. “I actually have hope that this young man may be able to do that better than I.” Mr Ospel said gesturing to James.

James was surprised, but was quickly on it when he realised that his mother hadn’t been eating with what they were implying. James dropped the ruby coving his remaining skin and floated up to his mother’s side, the vampire gasped but quickly floated out of the way. James got under his mother’s face to meet her gaze, she looked at him and instantly perked up with interest at the sight of him. “Mother? What is going on here? Are you alright?” Were the first words out of James’s mouth before he was tackle hugged tightly by his mother. “Zirconiame!” She shrieked as she pulled James into the air with a spin. “Mother! Mother! To tight! My neck!” James cried as his mother’s strong arms crushed his neck. “Ah! Oh my child, I’m so sorry, you are not to hurt are you?” “No, no, no! I am okay, just a little crushed. But mother, what on graces happened to you? Why are you in the palace? Why are you not eating? Who is this man and why do they call you Gemini?” James asked having many questions. “You ask me questions?! Zirconiame! Where have you been? Why have you been gone so long? What happened to you? Why are you in different minerals? What of your tone? You speak as if you have trouble with your voice.”

James gently sat his mother back down on the bed and had a proposal. “Okay, okay! How of this? I answer one question of yours, you answer one question of mine, deal?” “Yes, now- where have you been?” “Ah, that has to also answer my tone. I found my way up to the top.” Both his mother and the vampire next to James gasped. “You have been to the surface young man?!” The vampire shouted with his eyes glowing red. “Yes I did, and please do not authorities me sir, I do not know you. I would also not call being over fifty young.” “It is to over two-hundred.” The vampire said snootily. “Zirconiame, this is your other half, father.”

James’s jaw hit the floor when he heard his mother’s words… this vampire was his father? James looked to the man and could now see the resemblance between him and his more human appearance, but still… last he checked his father was a no show with nothing to do with him or his mother, why was he here now? James switched to English for this as he didn’t want Mr Ospel or his mother knowing what he was really saying. “You are my dad?” Sir Nightingale seemed surprised that James knew fluent English, but rolled with it anyway also in English. “Yes, I am. I can gather that you are upset with me Zirconiame.” “Call me James, it was a new name I insisted on when I was up top.” “Alright then. So, James, you are unhappy with me?”

James sighed. “I confess my anger is more of confusion. Why is my mother in a cell? Why are you suddenly here? Where were you when I was growing up?” “Well, to answer where I was when you were growing up, I was here, in the castle. …Have you been educated on the roles of a vampire clan?” “A vampire hierarchy, yes.” James nodded.

Sir Nightingale went on to explain, switching back to gem-glyph for the golems in the room. “Well, at the time my parents had just pasted, so I fled here to hide from the hunters that killed them, taking on the new title of king and ruling this ravine as its matriarch. While I was still coping from the loss of my parents and suddenly needing to take over a kingdom, I met your mother.” The king paused with a chuckle.

“It in all honestly played out like a romance novel. At the time I thought that we could have you, I thought everyone was moved on with the times and that I was allowed to officially marry your mother and have her be queen beside me with you as the prince, but apparently my vampire subjects still didn’t see it fit. So I was forced to marry a vampire and live my life as such of a typical king and queen, with the relationship I had with your mother and you a secret. But things came to a nasty end when your half-brother was born.”

“-He was born, found out he wasn’t an heir, vamp wifey put logic in her head and discovered about me.” James interrupted having actually heard this story from Harper. The king was surprised and shocked causing James to elaborate, “It’s not the first time I’ve heard that story, heck, I actually have a co-worker who is a hybrid and a vampire heir from America. Now he works on the same railway as me.” “R-Really?” James’s father asked shocked that he wasn’t the only one.

“Yeah, so what happened next? My co-worker said that his step-mum wanted him gone so that her child could be the true heir, did that happen with yours?” James asked. “Yes actually, once my wife found out she set up a warrant on your head. I came to warn your mother and you but when I saw her again she looked in a similar state to now, not eating and just had no life left in her. You were also nowhere to be found.” Nightingale said. “By then you had been missing for a year, I had searched the whole ravine for you and found no trace.” James’s mother said. “So we concluded that if you weren’t here, you had to be up there. I got to searching on the surface for you while also dealing with the many other things that happened, your mother I moved in here so she could be under constant surveillance and so that the other vampires wouldn’t grow iffy, I divorced my wife, I actually got custody of my son, and I still had all the mining business to deal with.” “While searching probably the whole country for me…” James hushed out and slumped down onto the mattress.

“Yes… but, please James, what happened to you?” “James?” the ruby mythic’s mother asked her love. “Ah, that was my new name I choose once I was on the surface. I told Mr Ospel this story already but I’ll give you the abridged version. I followed the waterfalls up from where they came and eventually found the surface, I saw unicorn centaurs working and wanted to be like them, so I shape shifted into looking like them and when I went out in the open I was captured and ran through the trade-” “WHAT?!” The king roared when he heard that, the whole stone around them shaking.

“You were ran through the mythos trade?! That’s why I couldn’t find you, I was looking for you assuming you were ether still looking like a golem or using your vampire side to live amongst them, I had no clue you were in the working class. Where did you end up? What did you do?” James’s father asked sounding really concerned. “What is this trade? Why does it worry you my love?” James’s mother asked sounding concerned as well. “I believe the rest of our sons story will reveal more my Gemini, lets listen.” With that James continued.

“Yes, like I was saying, I was ran through the mythos trade and ended up being put to work as a railway colt. I didn’t know how to speak English at the time, or cast the normal spells that the unicorns did, so it was a few months of trial and error before I got everything right. Afterwards I started to rebel a lot more, I insisted on them naming me instead of just calling me a set of numbers, that got me in a lot of trouble and caused a lot of pain. But at some point the locomotive I was paired with got an overhaul to fix its problems, it worked but they couldn’t do this to all the others and eventually I was sold to another railway where I still work today. I have a new home, I’ve got a big set of land with a nice house I made myself, I have a brother in steel with me at the moment and I have an amazing group of friends, all in all I guess I got what I wanted when I travelled up those waterfalls and saw those unicorns.” James chuckled.

“Where do you live now James?” His father asked. “On an island off of Barrow-in-Furness and in between the isle of man, the island of Sodor.” “Sodor? I’ve heard of that place, my distant cousins visit there for vacations every so often with the Hatt family there.” The king mentioned. “The Hatt’s are my bosses actually, and I think you’re referring to the Duke and Dutchess of Boxford aren’t you?” James asked. “Yes I am! Ohh… you were so close yet so far, I’m disappointed in myself for missing you.” “Well, to be fair, it wasn’t like I wanted to be found out by anybody up there. None of my steel siblings or close friends even know my true origins, the closest they know of it is that I was wild caught and spoke another language while being half made of stone.” James admitted. “Then what did you tell them when you went to come down here?” James’s father asked. “I said I was coming to Horwich to expand my magic knowledge, which wasn’t entirely wrong, I was kind of hoping mother would catch me up to speed.” James’s mother chuckled and slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry to say Zircon that I don’t have much magic left, I would not be able to teach you properly with how little I have.” “I’m in my older years as well Zircon, I would not be able to mentor you ether.” Mr Ospel said.

James thought for a bit before asking, “Do you still have those books on them?” “Yes I do, here, this is them.” James’s mother handed him a flat rock of lapis, it was another magic rock like what James used to teleport his belongings into a pocket dimension. “This is great! Is it all of them?” James asked. “Yes, down to the final addition and master class.” “I can imagen those would be really useful for the times up top.” James’s father commented when his love mentioned master class. “Really, really useful! These could actually help a friend of mine if I predict the craftsmanship of some prosthetics he’s going to get.” James said as he looked eager to bite into the knowledge of the rock. “I agree, if that’s the best those professional alchemists can do then their a flop just waiting to be found out.” James nodded with his father.

“Well then Zircon? What will you be doing going forward?” Mr Ospel asked. “I kind of want to stick around for a bit while I study these, catch up a little and get reacquainted.” James said. “If your looking for more magic knowledge on your plate I can show you these old vampire mage spell books, my other son didn’t take much of an interest in them but you seem to be quite the academic.” James’s mother and Mr Ospel chuckled a little at that since James wasn’t much for school in the past. “I didn’t know vampires had their own magic.” James commented but never the less intrigued. “We do, but its considered old magic, so nobody really bothers with it anymore. It’s on the lines of necromancy if that’s something you’d want to look into.” James nodded his head enthusiastically with a big smile on his face.

The king chuckled, and got up to show him where the books were, switching back to English. “There in the library, there’s also a study that you can use, but I’d recommend practicing your alchemy magic outside.” “I can work with that,” James smiled before giving his mother a hug and kiss on the cheek, “I’ll come and visit you every day, I love you so much mother.” James’s mum kissed his forehead before letting him go, watching as his father guided him out the cell and back up the stairs. She then proceeded to have a coughing fit, hacking up clouds of dust and gravel and grinded lapis. Mr Ospel caught her before she fell back on the bed and sat her up right so she wouldn’t choke. “Lazillie, do you really think you can afford to spend any more time spent lost with him? You don’t have much time, you should follow them up to the study.” Mr Ospel pleaded. “No…” Lazillie croaked out. “I’ve had my best memories with my child… Harlow deserves his best moments with his son just as much as I had. My boys deserve some time together.” Mr Ospel was very concerned and hoped she knew what she was doing, because he didn’t have the heart to tell her son that his mother that he just saw again after fifty years was dying.

For the rest of the month James had gotten into a new routine, he would see his mother at every mealtime and eat with her, while the other time was spent with his father in the study hall. Apparently his majesty had wanted to take up alchemy for the longest time but the methods that the golems used wasn’t translatable very well to written form, so James did his best in coaching him through the beginners steps. During this time James also took up a new form while in the castle of a far more human body, even wearing pants and shoes for the first time in his life, the ruby of his body pushed so far up his limbs that it looked like his nails were painted and he had red earrings in.

He also had the pleasure of meeting his half-brother Damon who was a pure blooded vampire prince, but since James was the heir that made this vampire a duke. Needless to say they didn’t get along all to swimmingly, Damon was three years younger than James but sometimes he made it sound like they were thirty years apart, he complained like a man child all the time and argued with James about every conversation even if James was in the right. It especially ticked James off when he insisted he was right about alchemy even if the guy had never bothered to read a word of gem-glyph in his life, so James often took a page out of Toby’s book and let the man child make a fool of himself to prove a point. It didn’t make their father any to pleased but it was plenty satisfying.

In the end James got a lot more skills than he initially thought he’d come back with, he graduated up to archivist in his alchemy studies that was essentially a master’s degree, he got to the level of bachelor in his vampire sorcery, he also walked away with a diploma in fashion as a tailor had offered to teach him in the middle of his other studies. All in all, James was pretty darn proud of himself for doing all that in the span of a month.

At the end he wished his family well and gave them his address so they could visit him, but under the guise of being old friends. So it was surprise that not even a week after James had come back home, Sir Bertrum announced that the vampire king of Aspull was coming to Sodor for a vacation along with the Duke and Dutchess of Boxford.

But that is a story for another day…

[escherbug]

YEAR OF THE GRUB - PROJECT 2: WATERCOLOR

Date completed: 3/3/2023

Craft store trips: 0

I'm a person who really values control and polish in my work, so media where you have to "let go" of your vision for a piece because of the way it works really scares me!

Watercolor is like sticking my foot into those media for later because it's close enough to creative processes I'm already familiar with (pencil, pen and ink, marker, etc) but still has a lot of ground I've never even touched.

First, obviously, I started with sketches from reference and iterating on them until I got some shapes and looks I was satisfied with. My last project didn't quite capture the annulations in the way I'd hoped, and the legs were too long once I looked at reference again.

I ended up with two sketches to paint, one as a backup in case I totally fucked up the first one. It went okay, and I think I'll still paint and show the second one later with what I learned from painting this one, but I think I'll just do it on my own time rather than as a YotG post project.

Like I said, I'm not used to painting, so this part was a lot of guesswork. I started with a wash because I'd heard and seen that it's a good idea and sets the tone for your piece, but I don't think I understood well enough and will need to go back and learn more. I probably didn't even stretch the paper right, haha! I had a lot of problems with paint pooling in wrinkles.

I don't have a lot to say about how it went from here, but I probably should have done all my painting in consistent lighting. I think this coloration would be perfect for painting a pupa, but it's not at all the beautiful milky color of a grub. I rushed this a little out of my own impatience as well as running late yet again, but you know and I know that's not a big deal. I'll take the second grub a little slower and apply everything I've learned doing this one.

THOUGHTS AND IDEAS:

I need to go back and review some basics of watercolor, including how to treat the paper so I don't run into pooling problems.

I need to use better brushes. I ran into a lot of trouble with the cheapo Artist's Loft brushes shedding hairs into my watercolors and onto my piece, making it difficult to control some of my finer strokes and generally making the process feel less pleasant.

I should work looking at reference for more than just the sketching process. I felt like by now I understood what a grub looks like, but it turns out that I was still preoccupied with how I THOUGHT it should look than what the colors actually express as.

I need to work in consistent lighting. Watercolor is an iterative process that you need to come back to a bunch of times to lay down rich color layer by layer, and if the light changes you may accidentally make a color WAY too dark and be too far gone by the time you realize to fix it.

I really struggle with color, so practicing this can only help. I want to start learning to mix palettes from a more limited selection of paints for a more cohesive color story.

Next month (this month) I'm learning a completely new set of skills, which should be ok since I have a whole week off on my own to work on it. Hopefully I'll be back here at the end of March with my next project:

USING BLENDER TO CREATE A MODEL FOR 3D PRINTING

[fanficwriter284]

Yo fan!!! Here with another (kind of long) writing prompt in case you get writers block again!

Dear [character], she wrote in the silence of her room. How's prison? I hear it isn't very fun. I've been doing great in school. I have all A's!

MILESS!!!! Great ta see ya back!!!! And thank you for this!!! After giving this some thought I think I finally figured out who to write it around!.

The was near the end of the day. Thankfully the last class for the week. English. There a young Tiffany Valentine sat beside her best friend Charles Lee Ray. Their teacher had decided to give a final assignment to write a letter to a friend or family member, for it to be mailed to them. Tiffany had sat cross-legged, fiddling with her pencil, thinking of who she could possibly write to. Since she didn't have much family that she knew of. Out of curiosity, she peaked over Charles' shoulder curious to see who he was writing to. Only to be confused upon seeing his letter. It had been in an entirely different language.

"Who ya writing to?"

"To my Tante Lina, Ida, and Julia"

"...oh cool.....What does T-Tante mean?"

"Aunt"

Tiffany gave him a quick understanding nod, before returning to her paper.

"Who are you writing to?"

Tiffany lowered her head in slight disappointment.

"That's the thing I don't know"

Chucky hummed, placing a pencil to his lips. Lightly chewing on the salmon pink eraser.

"Do you have any family around here?"

"...well....there's my uncle"

"Alright write to him then"

Tiffany sucked her teeth in slight embarrassment. Making a face of discomfort that she hoped her best friend wouldn't have noticed. Unfortunately for her....he did.

"Why do you have that look on your face?"

"...the thing is....he's in jail..."

She squinted her eyes, hoping to avoid any judgment look on his face. However instead raised a brow, at his seemingly dull expression.

"Okay? So?"

"You're not gonna judge me?"

"Why would I? It's not like you're the one who did the damn crime"

Tiffany sighed in relief, hearing her friend's blunt response. Before the young brunette could begin writing, the bell had rung dismissing all the kids. Causing a sea of ankle bitters to be set free, and flood out the front gates.

"Mrs. Flora!?" The young girl pipped up.

"Yes, Ms. Valentine?"

"Is it alright if I turn this in next class?''

"I don't see why not"

"Alright thank you!" She responded quickly hurrying to get out of the room, to catch up with Chucky who had been waiting for her in the hall.

...

The two teens had walked down their usual route and chatted.

"SHOOT! Sorry, Tiff! I gotta get home! My mom said she needed my home early today!"

Tiffany smiled, combing her bangs to the side, giving her friend a light nod, before parting ways.

"Say ya Monday"

"Yeah Monday"

The teen had picked up his pace quickly, hurrying to get home in time not wanting to disappoint his mom. While Tiffany had gone straight to her room, and took out her notebook and began thinking of an introduction.

"Dear Uncle Sebastian," she wrote in the silence of her room.

"How's prison? I hear it isn't very fun. I've been doing great in school. I have all A's!" She continued.

"...Look I know the two of us haven't really talked...and I know you probably don't really care if you get a letter from your niece...but today for my English class we had to write a letter to a family member and you came to mind....and now here we are"

She paused for a moment, thinking of what to write next. She hadn't really planned a layout or what exactly she was going to write.

"...So how are you doing besides the whole prison thing? I hope well. Maybe if you want and if my mom lets me I can come to see you...maybe" She mimicked Charles' pencil-biting habit still thinking of what to write next.

"What do you even do in prison? Just sit around in a cell all day? What's the food like? Do you wear those jumpsuits like they do in the movies? Do you miss us? Like the family? If so, what would you say to us if we went and visited you?" Tiffany sighed failing to conjure up any more thoughts, and topics to continue talking about.

"...Well looks like I'm running out of space....I hope to hear from you soon. Well love, your niece. Tiffany Valentine"

And with that, she carefully folded up the letter, and placed it inside the envelope, licking the tip to seal it shut, quickly stuffing it into the front pocket of her backpack to make sure it didn't get lost or smushed.