#cos some of these lads are really pulling it off | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adore-healy · 3 months

Text

Talk!

Warnings: Brief mentions of body confidence (insecure reader); alcohol (mentions of vomit); drugs (mentions of rehab); very descriptive illegal drug use and overdose (injecting/needles, vomit, seizures, and mentions of death), sexual scenes and references; and bad language. Please read at your own risk!

Talk!

Swaying ever so slightly, thanks to the glass of wine you’d downed upon your arrival at the party for some liquid confidence, you cross your legs and pray that whoever is taking so long in the bathroom will speed things along because you’re not sure how much longer your bladder can hold out for.

Leaning against the wall for support, you find yourself immersed in people watching as a form of distraction. It seems as though the landing area of the house was the most ideal make out spot for couples tonight — and you assume that the bedrooms are already taken; so you dare not risk using any of the en suites attached in fear of disturbing someone’s mid-fuck.

A group of lads are sat in a circle on the other side of the landing, engrossed in a card game which heavily involves alcohol as you hear them egg each other on with chants galore. One girl sits on the carpeted stairs, only two down from where you’re standing, and she drunkenly sobs into her phone, desperately apologising to whoever is on the other end — presumably an ex partner — as she begs them to take her back.

Your eyes wander observantly over to a group of girls huddled in a corner and despite your innocence in the drug scene at parties, you know that they are abusing a substance as they take turns to dramatically snort white powder off a car key. You’re instantly drawn to them; each of them dressed in clothing that accentuates their stunning figures, paired with high heels that you’d surely break an ankle in.

Self-consciousness suddenly becomes your most prominent feeling as you look down at the loose-fitting floral playsuit you’d chosen to wear this evening, along with your white low top converse. Wrapping your arms protectively around yourself, you wait as patiently as you possibly can.

As though your silent prayers had been answered, the lock of the door clicks, indicating that somebody is finally exiting the bathroom — although you’re hardly surprised when a girl stumbles out of the doorway and balances herself against the doorframe, a slight giggle escaping her lips.

“Steady, love,” a voice sounds from behind her.

Even in your tipsy haze, you’d know that northern accent anywhere — and as his hand comes to rest on the girls’ hip to support her in her drunken state, there’s no mistaking the recognisable box tattoo inked on the inside of his forearm.

Tears pool in your eyes and cloud your vision as you drink in the girls demeanour. Despite having full awareness that it’s not her fault, you can’t help but feel incredibly bitter towards her.

She’s hot.

Her brunette hair frames her face and the luscious curls fall to halfway down her back; fake tan and make up seemed to have been applied in excess but she was able to pull it off with ease; her lips — clearly injected with filler — were ruby red (although the smeared lipstick across her face doesn’t go unnoticed by you); and her waist is adorned by a matching black leather co-ord, her knee high boots giving prominence to her stature.

She’s really hot. Something that you’re not.

And …

… Matty.

The amount of times you’d spoken his name aloud; shouted it during an argument; whispered it in your sleep; whined it each time he would bring you close to the edge with his fingers, or tongue, or sometimes both, only to deny you of the orgasm you desperately craved; moaned it when he did finally let you come around him.

You wonder if his name would roll off your tongue so easily now.

He looks, dare you jinx it, healthy; adorned in a simplistic but dressy pair of black slacks paired with a plain white shirt (because he thinks it makes him appear ethereal — note: it does) and the outfit is completed with black patent shoes. He looks every inch the award winning successful pop star — and you liked it — until you remembered the girl he was keeping company with.

You hadn’t expected this situation to arise tonight; hadn’t prepared yourself for an awkward encounter with your ex-boyfriend; let alone seeing him clinging to a girl — a girl who isn’t you.

Upon handing out her birthday party invites this summer, Charli had confidently assured you that Matty wouldn’t be attending. You’re now realising it had perhaps been a ploy to get you here in the first place. Charli knew you wouldn’t miss her birthday, you’d promised her that yourself; but you would have preferred to have done something different between the two of you — or your group of shared girlfriends — to celebrate; a spa day; a bottomless brunch; a trip to the theatre; anything that didn’t require much social interaction (such as the disorderly house party currently taking place).

Dazed and slightly unsteady, you’re at a loss for words as you look up at Matty and the brunette — but your heart need not race with anxiety, your body need not shake with trepidation, your mind need not be perplexed — as the pair wade past you, not bothering to acknowledge your existence.

Narrowing your eyes, you watch the couple shuffle down the stairs and dodge past the sea of people loitering. Matty keeps the girl close to him, her back pressed against his chest, as his fingertips dance on her skin, his nails biting into her flesh as though he fears letting her go.

The urge to vomit overwhelms you — and you don’t think it’s tonight’s consumption of alcohol. Stumbling into the bathroom, you’re sure to lock the door behind you, before grabbing the porcelain basin for stability. Steadying your breaths and grounding yourself with a few ‘you’re okay’s,’you’re able to calm yourself down enough to remember why you’re in here in the first place; your bladder is about to explode.

Seating yourself on the toilet, your body slightly swaying in your intoxicated state, you close your eyes to ground yourself, drifting off in a daydream where times were different.

You were never Matty’s type — not typically. Fans often reminded you of that across various social media platforms, although not all comments were nasty. Some simply stated that you were far too innocent to be dragged into Matty’s world of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll; whilst other opinions were cruel, leaving you to question your existence in Matty’s life altogether.

Their bitterness was laughable — until it wasn’t. Your rockstar boyfriend would often come home to you - a shell of your former self - locked away in the bathroom; tearfully obsessing over your looks (although not narcissistically); picking yourself apart; and somehow managing to find non-existent faults.

But ever the charming boyfriend, Matty loved on you every day of your relationship. You were continually reminded of his affection towards you with lavish bouquets of flowers, luxurious gifts, romantic picnics, candlelit dinners, and general expressive gestures — often intimate.

However, in spite of Matty’s adoration of you, it was his weakness that had come between you and ultimately resulted in the end of your relationship.

Although grateful for Matty overcoming his heroin addiction, his reliance on drugs had acted as a permanent barrier to a potential future together. You wanted forever with Matty; yearned for him to get down on one knee during an idyllic getaway to pop the question; desired to raise a family with him and experience the highs and lows of parenthood; and eventually grow old together (the only argument being who would be the first to go, because neither of you could live without the other).

It was an unrealistic scenario; you were unable to bring a child; Matty’s child; into a world where his substance abuse was coming first again; and before you. You didn’t condone it but you had accepted his use of recreational drugs — your boyfriend was in a band, after all, and smoking marijuana, snorting lines and popping pills was normalised in his world where creativity was key.

But Matty getting high once a month had soon turned into once a week, and coming home from a writing session in the studio with red eyes which rolled into the back of his head soon became once a day; and spending your evenings alone in your shared apartment whilst you awaited his arrival was proving difficult as you succumbed to the loneliness. Along with the lack of intimacy and the diminished romance, it felt as though you were living separate lives, passing ships in the night.

Late nights, drug dependencies and an obvious lack of appreciation often resulted in slanging matches between the two of you; harsh words thrown around and reverberating off the walls, both viciously biting back and mocking insecurities just to one up each other and instantly regretting it but both too stubborn to apologise. Arguments between you would conclude with slamming doors and estranged sleeping arrangements.

You’d remain in the apartment, clutching the teddy bear he’d won you at a Christmas fair one year — one that held a photo frame which housed a nostalgic photograph of the two of you together after the band had performed their self-titled album in full ten years after it’s release. You’d eventually sob yourself to sleep.

Matty would be cursing to himself and running a frustrated hand through his hair as he’d roam the streets, angrily kicking the ground and scuffing his shoes all whilst contemplating who to call at ungodly hours — before ultimately heading off to find his next fix to alleviate the pain he was causing to himself and everyone around him.

You were both hurting.

“Please y/n, let me come in,” a female voice begs.

You frown, adjusting your eyes as you rewire your drunken brain to return to Planet Earth. You wonder how long you had disassociated for; how long someone was calling your name from outside the bathroom before you finally noticed their presence.

It takes a minute to sort yourself out before you open the door to reveal Charli on the other side. She gives you a solemn but albeit reassuring smile before pulling you in for a hug.

“You said he wouldn’t be here,” you whisper into her neck as you rest your head on her shoulder.

Charli sighs sadly as she draws back from you to close the door behind her, locking it securely and leaving you both with some privacy.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you that y/n, please believe me,” she urges. “George …” she trails off, before explaining how the misunderstanding had occurred.

She doesn’t mean to throw her own boyfriend under the bus and shift the blame. It had been an accidental slip of the tongue during a recording session between the two band members, which resulted in Matty assuming he was already invited — and George didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

“’s fine, ’s not your fault,” you mumble in an attempt to reassure your friend. “Just wasn’t expecting to see him,” you add with a shrug as you sit yourself on the edge of bath.

Charli kneels in front of you, taking your hands in her own. It’s a silent comfort, a gesture to say that she’s here for you, one that you’re grateful for.

“Is he —” you begin, sighing heavily as your eyes find the ceiling, struggling to vocalise the words. Charli understands and gives you time to figure out what it is that you want to express. A tear rolls down your cheek and you finally whimper, “Is he clean?”

Charli sighs heavily, the pads of her thumbs gently rubbing reassuring circles on your knuckles.

“He’ll always have a problem with drugs, y/n,” integrity is laced in her voice. “But it’s mostly weed nowadays. He hasn’t touched heroin since rehab, you know that,” she reminds you. “He occasionally does coke, but it’s for creativity, and he’s never alone.”

You nod in understanding. You’re fully aware of the demands of his rockstar lifestyle and how the use of substances heavily influence his song writing and record producing; and using it in the company of the other band members wasn’t really the issue; it was when Matty used it alone and vowed to himself to keep it a secret that it became a problem, lying becoming a huge factor in the breakdown of your relationship.

“He realised,” she pauses, taking an in-breath before revealing, “after losing you, he needed to get his act together. He knew he couldn’t build a life with someone if he was always off his face.”

“Looks like he’s building a life with someone else just fine,” you sigh sadly, your eyes averting towards the bathroom door.

The thought of Matty’s arms around another girl especially in front of you makes you feel incredibly uneasy; your heart physically hurting as though somebody was continuously puncturing it and putting you through consistent pain; your stomach turning at the idea of their hands roaming each other’s bodies.

“Oh babe,” she whispers sadly.

“It’s ok,” you tell her with a small nod. Wiping the tears away from your face, you take a deep breath and compose yourself. “I’m ok,” you say, a little more convincingly paired with a smile. “I’ll be fine; it was just a bit of a shock, you know.”

Charli nods in understanding. “You were together for a long time, babe. You’re bound to be upset at seeing him move on with someone else … although,” her speech becomes slurred slightly due to her alcohol consumption and she’s suddenly whispering as though she’s about to reveal a sacred secret, “between you and me, I think he’s just looking for a quick shag.”

Her words, surprisingly, don’t cut deep, and you realise it’s perhaps because she’s drunk and she doesn’t really know she’s saying; or maybe it’s because you know it’s true. There had been no sign of another girl after you; no dating rumours maliciously spread online or in the media, no mention of a female name whenever you met with the rest of the band members and their other halves. Perhaps Matty was in need a good shag — and this girl was the first person willing to provide it for him.

“C’mon,” Charli gives you an encouraging nudge, breaking you out of your own drunken trance. “There’s more vodka and tequila and wine downstairs,” she lists the various alcohol options begging to be consumed. “Let’s get wrecked,” she finishes with a smirk.

It’s a mystery to you how both yourself and Charli have made it to the bottom of the stairs in one piece; not once stumbling or losing your balance despite your intoxicated state. Although, you weren’t complaining. Nobody needed to end up in hospital with a sprained ankle or broken leg, especially on Charli’s birthday.

“There’s my girl,” a male voice can barely be heard over the deafening beat of music that pulsates throughout the house. Emerging through the sea of people and heading towards you both is George, his arms outstretched as he makes a beeline for his girlfriend.

“Baby!” Charli yells dramatically as she stumbles into his open arms, nuzzling into his broad chest. She takes a few moments to regain her composure, inhaling his scent; the strong cologne smothering his plain white t-shirt.

“Someone’s having fun!” George exclaims over the music that reverberates around the house. He glances down and presses a kiss to Charli’s head, running a hand comfortingly across her back as they look ever the disgustingly in love couple.

“We are!” she slurs, smirking up at her fiancé, before loudly declaring, “I’m going … that way!” She points theatrically towards the kitchen as she suddenly steps out from George’s embrace to meet his gaze.

“And why’s that, baby?” he asks, pressing his hands gently to her cheeks, cupping her face.

“Because … that’s where the vodka is, silly!” she giggles, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend, as she feels as though she’s stating the most obvious thing in the world before she starts swaying on the spot.

“Whoa,” George murmurs softly, wrapping an arm protectively around her waist. “‘m not sure you need anymore vodka, babe,” he sniggers at his girlfriend’s drunkenness, although already dreading the raging hangover she’ll experience in the morning. “I best get this one some water,” he tells you, when Charli once again drunkenly collapses against his chest. “Will you be alright?” he asks, peering over her head to meet your gaze, genuine concern laced in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah … go on, you look after her. I’ll be fine,” you nod in reply, waving him off.

Taking a step down the corridor, Charli flings her arms around George’s neck, causing them both to stumble down the hallway and out of sight into the kitchen, leaving you alone. You watch them for a while, noting the interaction between them — physical touch clearly their love language as they can’t keep they hands off of each other — and despite your happiness for them in their relationship, you can’t help but feel immensely jealous of the love they have for each other.

Taking in your surroundings, you’re indecisiveness would normally kick in around now, unsure of where to go and who to spend your time with, but thanks to the many shots you’d manage to knock back this evening, your anxiety is currently kept at bay as you head into the lounge.

Drunken revellers are scattered all around the room — some making out with each other on the sofas, hips grinding against each other and moans of pleasure filling the air; others are in large gatherings and engaged in booming conversations about anything and everything; party goers sit on the floor playing drinking games; whilst a couple of guests are sprawled, uncomfortably looking, across the sofa clearly sleeping off the early hangover that’s already kicked in.

Panic threatens to rear it’s ugly head as you suddenly become hyperaware of the scenario you now find yourself in currently playing out — and you mentally scold yourself for ever thinking that the alcohol you'd consumed this evening could ever give you enough liquid confidence to mingle at such a social event.

You’re in a room full of people; yet you’re alone. None of these people are your friends, and you’re not looking for a quick fuck, either. You don’t have anyone to talk to; anyone to interact with. Desperately seeking a solution, your eyes dart around the room, yet in only a matter of seconds they seem to find a problem in a darkened corner, and you’re forced to watch an intense interaction unfold.

How was it possible to feel everything and nothing at the same time?

Your heart stops beating within your chest, whilst simultaneously shattering into a million pieces. Dizziness consumes your entire body as though you could collapse at any given moment, but your feet are planted firmly to the ground. Your palms start to sweat and your cheeks glow red, your body’s way of telling you you’re overheating, yet your blood runs cold within your veins.

The scene in front of you burns into your eyes, as though it’s a movie that you must involuntarily watch repeatedly; experiencing the trauma over and over again; because you’re adamant that even when you close your eyes, the image will be etched in your brain, one that you’ll see in your nightmares every night from now on.

Matty’s hands are snaked around the brunette’s waist, his fingertips digging into the fleshiest part of her as his larger, overpowering frame keeps her in place against the magnolia wall. His white dress shirt is unbuttoned three from the top, his inked skin exposed as the woman’s palms rest atop his chest, her digits occasionally finding themselves dancing upon the artwork that adorns his body.

You can’t help your eyes wandering below as it becomes increasingly apparent that Matty’s erection is straining within his trousers, his well-endowed manhood threatening to break free of the material. As he becomes progressively turned on, he thrusts his hips towards her body, and one of his hands comes to rest on her inner thigh.

Based on your previous experiences in make out sessions with Matty, you know his fingers will soon find their way up the leather skirt that clings to the girl’s body, before they seek out her sweet spot and have her coming all over them.

You watch his tongue battle against hers for dominance; and you’re surprised at how easily you play into your own imagination as you’re plagued with thoughts about his mouth; because you know you would have submitted by now, granting Matty permission to take full control of the situation.

The affectionate act would be reassuring, your comfort absolutely paramount to him. With your arms around his neck and your bodies desperately pressing together as though intertwining, Matty would trail sloppy wet kisses along your jawline. One hand resting upon your hip and the other placed on the wall of the darkened corner behind you, you would be trapped, pleasantly, in his company.

As his head lowers towards your neck, he’d pull the strap of your playsuit down, exposing your clavicle. He would greedily eye up your collarbone, before allowing his lips to linger for longer than necessary as he gently sucked at your skin, surely leaving a bruise as a reminder. Expressing your pleasure through a small moan would have his lips crashing against yours instantly, the taste of cigarette smoke still on his breath, his lungs full of tar as you inhaled the tobacco second hand.

However, it wouldn’t be long before your insecurities during intimate acts would rear their ugly heads, getting the better of you, and a small whimper against Matty’s plump lips, as you desperately seek solace, has his hands cupping your face, his confidence blooming as he guides you throughout.

“Doin’ so well for me, love,” he would murmur against your lips. The conviction in his voice soothed you, the passionate kisses made you feel secure, and the tenderness of his touches made you feel safe; as though you have a place, with him, in this world.

“Matty,” is all you’d manage to whimper against him, your body quivering at the slightest touch, his words of praise turning you on.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he’d encourage more moans to escape you, desperate to hear how good he makes you feel. “Gonna let me touch you?” he always had the gentlemanly habit of asking for your consent, despite you both already knowing the answer.

With his hot breath fanning over your blush cheeks, you’d nod against him, responding with a mumbled, “mmhmm,” and granting him permission to do so, unable to form a coherent response.

Wasting no time, his fingers would brush past you intimately, and he’d be so grateful that the playsuit you chose to wear tonight was loose fitting around your thighs, giving him the easiest access to the ever growing wet patch on your underwear.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, darling,” he would express his approval at the dampness between your legs. “Good girl,” came the praise as he’d edge you, his digits rubbing hard against you.

You would flinch as his thumb circles your sensitivity in repetitive motions. His kisses become wetter and sloppier as you moan into his mouth, his lips smirking at the hushed moans leaving your lips.

Bucking his hips towards you and pushing you further into the corner, ensuring to maintain your dignity and leaving no space between you, would have him breathless against your body.

“Can you feel that, darling? That’s what you do to me.” He’d be hard; only for you.

His thumb and forefinger work in tandem against your bundle of nerves, and with the increased pressure to the circular motion he inflicts upon you, you would be so responsive for him, whimpering and quivering against him, desperate for release.

“Come on darling, you gonna come for me?” he’d ask, rhetorically, because he knows you will. “That’s it, love, give me a good one,” he talks you through it, and you don’t take much more coaxing before you come undone around him, soaking his fingers and coming over the cotton material.

He’d gaze intently, the sight of you post-orgasm incredibly mesmerising to him. He’d allow you a few moments to regain your composure; you regulate your breathing simultaneously with his whispers of encouragement, words of praise, and affectionate touches guaranteed to soothe you.

“That’s it, darlin’. Come back to me,” he would press a kiss to your cheek, bringing you down from your high and back to reality, his admiration for you soaring. Despite being surrounded by hundreds of people at the house party, Matty somehow had the ability to make you feel as though you were the only person in the room.

He anchored you.

But you drowned anyway.

“Come on, darling,” a soft voice from behind you whispers.

A tentative pair of hands come to rest on your hips, fearful of startling you. Normally, despite your timid personality, you would react to unwanted male attention, uninvited hands touching your body, but it’s Ross, and you know you’re safe with him.

“Come on,” he repeats. “You don’t need to see this.”

He manages to guide you out of the lounge and into the hallway; although you’re not quite sure how your brain and limbs are working in tandem. It’s as though your feet won’t move; stuck to the spot and unable to drag yourself away from the torment unfolding before your eyes; yet you can’t move quick enough, your body urging you to leave the horror behind.

Alcohol courses through your veins and you wish the depressant had acted as a sedative but instead it’s dramatically heightened your feelings. Your stomach is turning at the sight of Matty passionately making out with the brunette as though they were a couple of horny teenagers, desperate to get their end away.

Music thumps around you, drum and bass bouncing off the walls and reverberating around the room and you’re pretty sure that your pounding heart is simultaneous with the fast breakbeats, both working in unison.

Your knees begin to buckle beneath you, unable to support yourself as adrenaline pulses through your body. Desperately trying to swallow air into your lungs, your breath hitches around the tears that flow freely down your blush cheeks.

The oxymoron of your emotions is terrifying and there’s too much to contend with; it’s as though you’re in a dream like state — a nightmare — and a passing thought of, “Is this the equivalent to being high?” crosses your mind.

“Breathe, y/n,” Ross gently encourages as he steadies your body against his own. “Just breathe.”

You can feel people staring, eyes watching intently as they nosily observe your demeanour. They probably assume you're drunk or high; you don’t really care; you’re unable to concentrate on anything other than Matty at the moment.

“’s loud,” you whimper.

Cigarette smoke and marijuana fills the air, hustle and bustle continuing around you as Ross comes to stand in front of you, blocking your view of the party guests loitering in the hallway, as he attempts to protect you, maintaining your dignity in your vulnerable state.

“What was that, love?” he asks, lowering his ear to your mouth in an attempt to hear you around the electronic dance music that blares through the speakers.

“It’s loud!” you cry out again, shaking your head vigorously as though to rid the noise around you; the chatter amongst friends, the laughter between guests; the deafening music; your own thoughts. At the risk of looking as if having a breakdown, your place your hands over your ears, covering them.

Your eyes dart towards two figures fast approaching and even through your tears you instantly recognise them to be Carly and Adam.

“What’s happened?” Carly asks, obvious concern lacing her voice.

You squeeze your eyes shut and fiercely shake your head once more. “It’s too loud!” you sob this time because why does nobody understand?! Why is everybody talking so loud?

“Hey, it’s ok, I’ve got you,” Carly reassures you, gently placing a supportive hand on the small of your back.

You’re too in your own head to realise that the other two men in your presence exchange a glance, Ross pulling Adam aside to fill him in on Matty’s antics tonight.

Pulling you close, Carly attempts to protect you from the continuous stares of the other party goers, and upon overhearing the conversation taking place behind you between her husband and his friend, simultaneous with her reassuring words of, “It’s ok, darling, just breathe,” she makes an efficient decision to take you into the kitchen.

Carly understands, completely, and takes control of the situation. Leading you towards the corner counter, she encourages you to rest your swaying body against the unit for some sort of stability. The kitchen, filled with pop-stars, is almost like a safe haven for you — these people were important, and you weren’t, so they had no time to focus on you and your breakdown. They didn’t care.

“Here,” a voice murmurs softly, a glass of water offered to you in an outstretched hand. It takes you a few seconds for your blurry eyes to focus, your body swaying slightly, before you realise that it’s Adam.

You reach forward, tentatively taking the glass of liquid between both of your hands, attempting to steady your hold on the object which proves to be difficult with your shaking frame. You bring the water to your lips and start to sip it, before increasing the pace in which you drink and taking larger gulps.

“Slowly,” Carly whispers, placing her hand over yours on the glass and encouraging you to take your time. “That’s it, y/n. Nice and slowly,” she praises you as you take smaller sips once again.

You finally regain yourself, tears no longer freely flowing — but your cheeks are stained with track marks where you’d previously been crying. The reverberating music doesn’t seem quite as harsh against the walls in the kitchen; and it’s perhaps the most peaceful room in the house, despite there being plenty of celebrities surrounded by cigarette smoke and noisy chatter amongst friends.

Placing the glass down on the kitchen counter, you turn to Carly and Adam. “He … there was …” you attempt to explain yourself but you’re unable to vocalise the horror that you had witnessed — Matty making out with another girl.

“’s ok,” Carly intervenes, recognising your struggle.

Your bottom lip trembles again and it shatters Carly’s heart that you feel this way, your emotions heightened and running away with you — upset; angry; distressed; inferior; betrayed. She gives Adam a knowing look, and he too is burning with rage.

“Just … wait here,” Carly tells you softly, her hands coming to brush your hair out of your face. “I’ll be right back, ok?” she assures you, softly cupping your face in her hands as she wipes away the remnants of salty tears.

You don’t really comprehend what she’s saying to you; everything is a surreal blur — but you nod anyway. As you stare into space, you hear Adam whisper hiss, “I’ll kill him,” under his breath, as he and Carly head off, presumably back to the lounge.

And just like that, you’re alone, again.

With alcohol increasing your sensitivity to everything, the lingering taste of tequila is still prominent on your lips and the smell of cigarette smoke — once a comforting scent when it came to Matty — and marijuana fills the air, making you feel lightheaded, and you know it will take at least three hair wash routines before you get the smell out.

Your eyes avert around the room as though you’re in a dream-like state. In body, you’re here, but your mind is elsewhere. You observe the other pop-stars who are loitering and talking, not giving a fuck about you — and you also note the amount of bottles that clutter the countertops; some beverages opened and half drank, the sides inundated with empty ones, and a few completely untouched.

“You need to lighten up, sweetheart.”

In your dazed state, you’re not sure who is talking to who right now. You lazily turn your head in the direction of where the voice had come from, to see a young man sitting on the kitchen island opposite you. It takes you a few seconds to realise that he’d aimed his comment at you.

He was alone, too.

He’s cute, you note. Dressed in a moth-bitten black knitted jumper and a pair of black skinny jeans, he mirrors Matty’s iconic grunge look and it’s enough to make you want to fuck him on the kitchen counter in front of everyone; and vomit at the sight of him; at exactly the same time.

His dangling legs are swinging beneath him as he fidgets atop of the counter to get comfortable, his fingers drumming against the granite surface.

Ignoring your initial liking to him looking every inch the boyfriend, you reach forward, opting for the bottle of wine sat next to the him, shrugging off his comment and not once acknowledging his existence. You didn’t have the time of day for any man right now.

Taking a swig from the half-full bottle of Pinot Grigio in your hand, you close your eyes, still trying to rid yourself of the image of Matty embracing another girl.

“Seriously, babe,” he tries again, “You look upset … and wine definitely won’t help you,” he tries again.

You lower the bottle, although it’s still close enough to your lips that it’s practically dancing against them, as you get ready to down another mouthful of the alcohol once this conversation concludes.

“And what will?” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him.

“Something stronger … if you get my drift,” he raises an eyebrow.

You know what he’s implying, but you choose to ignore him. You raise the bottle back to your lips, but something stops you — the guy before you wraps his hand around your wrist, preventing you from drowning your sorrows further.

“Drugs?” you ask rhetorically, mirroring his raised eyebrow at his obviousness.

He shrugs at you although you can tell he becomes slightly shifty, his eyes wandering to make sure nobody had heard you. Delving into his pocket, he pulls out a small packet containing a white powdery substance and throws it down onto the island in front of you.

“’s your call,” he murmurs with a nod. “You can have this one on the house,” his eyes flit between the package and you.

Anxiousness is your forefront emotion as you gaze down at the illegal substance. You weren’t naive to the reality of drug-dealing. The first batch this guy had just offered to you for free was a ploy to get you hooked; to keep you coming back for more as a regular client.

But in turn, it meant addiction; an illness. Being with Matty had shown you an ugly side of drugs that you could have only ever imagined. At the time of being your boyfriend, Matty had fallen into a world of lies and deceit, ultimately resulting in a failed relationship.

You shake your head, “No, thank you though.”

The man opposite you furrows his brows.

“Are you sure? I have plenty and … well, it’s just you seem pretty upset and it will make you feel better. I’m going to hazard a guess that it’s boy trouble?” he asks, almost knowingly.

You don’t respond; you didn’t want this man — a complete stranger who you'd known less than five minutes — psychoanalysing you.

“You know, everyone here is doing drugs,” he informs you in a whisper, stating it matter of factly. “These people; they might seem like they’re put together and better than everyone else, but the truth is, they need to take their pain away, too. Trust me, I can help you.”

Registering his words, your eyes avert back to the package.

“What … what is it?” you ask him, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Smack,” he answers without hesitation. “Looks like you need it to work pretty quick as well,” he adds, before taking another object out of his pocket and placing it on the counter beside the drug. “The quickest way to get your high is by cooking it, and then injecting it, preferably into a vein,” he tells you as you look down at the syringe now on the kitchen side.

It would be plain to anyone watching this interaction that you’re unknowledgeable; possessed by innocence in this life. Sure, you’d experimented with the socially accepted substances; alcohol (many of nights had ended with you retching into a toilet bowl and nursing a hangover into the next day), and smoking tobacco cigarettes; but otherwise, you’d lead a pretty sheltered life, for which you were grateful for.

“How?” you ask, before clarifying, “How do I cook it?”

The attractive guy smirks back at you. Perhaps he thought you were cute? Or maybe he was lonely and wanted the company? Then again, it could be because he was grooming a young, vulnerable girl into taking an illegal substance which would hopefully have her hooked and coming back for more.

You shake your head at the intrusive thoughts that begin to plague your mind, your anxiety levels peaking as you realise just how unsure you are of this; and how alone you are at the moment.

Matty was too busy trying to get fucked by a pretty model; Ross, Adam and Carly had all left you to go God knows where; and knowing them, George and Charli were probably shagging in the flowerbed at the end of the garden.

But ultimately, you were alone.

“’s easy,” he mumbles, jumping down from the side and walking over to the kitchen counter where you were stood, cornering you between the units.

He’s confident, but not cocky or threatening, and right now you feel seen; heard; and maybe even safe in this man’s presence right now. He reaches towards the cutlery drawer next to you, pulling out a silver spoon.

“Firstly, we need a cooker and a heat source,” he shows you the cutlery in his hand, although you already know it’s a slightly amateur move when he hasn’t provided his own equipment in his drug sharing ritual — but you’ll let him off since you’re no expert either.

With his back turned towards everyone else in the kitchen, he’s left to secretly pour the contents of the plastic bag onto the spoon. He steadies his hand, before delving into his pocket with the other and reaching for a lighter. Placing it underneath the spoon, he begins to melt the heroin, and you watch on, fascinated as the powder gradually turns into a liquid.

“Take it for me,” he gestures towards the spoon.

You do as he says, trying your best to steady your grip on the handle of the cutlery.

The man turns to discretely observe the other party goers in the kitchen and he’s satisfied when some of the guests had filtered out of the room — a few of them having decided to go into the garden — and those who were remaining were still just as uninterested in you both.

“We can put it in this now,” he tells you, and he draws the liquidated substance into the syringe, filling it with the drug. “I need your shoe lace,” he nods down to your fresh white converse.

“Why?” you ask.

He smirks — although you’re not sure if it’s his way of flirting or if he’s amused by your lack of knowledge and obvious inexperience. It’s probably the latter, you think.

“Because …” he begins, placing the needle on the kitchen counter top before kneeling down in front of you and continuing, “We need a tie off.”

His words don’t make much sense to you as he makes light work of untying your shoe, removing the lace through the eyelets with ease. It seems almost affectionate; but then again, you were able to romanticise most things in your life. Perhaps it’s fate that you and the guy who’s teaching you to inject heroin had met this evening. Everything happens for a reason.

He stands up again, towering over your frame, the shoe lace held loose within his hand.

“I need to tie this around your arm,” he tells you, brushing the material across your skin.

Tying the shoe lace tightly around your arm, he then uses his two forefingers to tap against your skin a few times, encouraging the blood flow to make a vein become more prominent.

“If you inject into a vein, you’ll feel the effects quicker,” he whispers to you, as he runs his fingers across a protruding blue blood vessel. “You’ll get high before you even realise it.” Taking the needle from the kitchen counter, he holds it towards you.

“Are you ready?” he asks gently, an eyebrow slightly raised as he observes your nervous features.

Were you ready?

You think back to the series of events that had occurred throughout the course of the night. Seeing Matty with another girl — a hot brunette that was totally his type — had destroyed you. It made your heart physically ache; shattering into millions of tiny pieces; and he just didn’t seem to care. He hadn’t even noticed you all evening.

Despite his friends rallying around you, you knew it was perhaps out of guilt and pity. Did they really love you, or did they see you as a weak and vulnerable ex-girlfriend who needs babysitting because she can’t control her emotions?

Heroin had been a welcomed escape for Matty throughout his time of using — it distracted his brain from everything bad that was happening around him — the drug was there, begging for him to use it to ease his pain and make life more bearable.

What had only ever meant to start off as experimenting, part and parcel of being a rockstar, soon turned into a severe dependence on the drug; an addiction; resulting in constantly lying to those he loved, relationship breakdowns, arguments between family and friends and ultimately, losing you.

But heroin relieved Matty of his emotional pain and torment, even if only temporary and perhaps you needed a distraction tonight, something to take away your pain — even if only temporary.

One time wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m ready.”

Matty’s moans are soft and delicate as his back arches into the fabric sofa, the hot woman’s lips nipping at his neck as she straddles his thighs, clearly turning him on. She grinds her hips against him and he bucks himself towards her, cursing the clothing that gets in the way of his ever growing erection.

“Fuck,” he groans softly.

He doesn’t care who hears him, other drunken revellers finding themselves in similar positions around the house, and for those who aren’t looking for a quick fuck tonight are too drunk or high to get laid anyway. He seems to be the least important pop star in the room — and for once, he thinks he likes it.

“Fuck,” he moans again, when she sucks at his neck. “Fuck, yeah,” he bucks his hips towards her again as her tequila tasting lips no doubt leave a harsh love bite on his pale skin, a bruise already forming with the intensity of her actions.

“Can’t,” she suddenly groans against him.

Matty understands, immediately.

“Upstairs?” he questions.

He’s sure — so certain — that she wants to take this further but can’t because they’re in the living room — able to be gawked at by others; which is odd, he thinks, because she hasn’t been shy about where their make out sessions have been taking place so far. She hasn’t cared who has been watching.

“Stop,” she whisper hisses, before making her voice more firm. “Stop, Matty. Need … need t’ … stop,” she tells him, before pulling herself away. She can barely look him in the eye as she runs a hand through her tangled hair.

“‘s wrong?” he asks.

She shrugs before removing herself from his lap. There’s not much dignity for Matty as his erection strains against the black tailored trousers he’d chosen for this evening — and there’s no cushion or throw to cover his embarrassing situation.

“You ok?” he asks, genuine concern laced in his voice.

“I … I need to get home … to … my …” she stutters, almost embarrassed as reality hits hard.

“To your what?” he asks breathlessly, giving a deathly stare as his patience is beginning to wear thin and his nostrils flare because he has a horrible feeling where this conversation is heading.

“To my … partner,” she adds, finally allowing the words to leave her lips. She smooths the black leather skirt down her legs properly, the material having ridden up her thighs to expose her hips during the steamy session.

“You … you have … have a boyfriend?” Matty splutters, as they make eye contact with each other; the first time since the woman had pulled away from his embrace.

“Husband,” the younger girl corrects him, the disco lights suddenly reflecting off the wedding band that adorned her ring finger — a harsh reminder to him that he was being used. Biting her lip mischievously, she cruelly tells him, “Just because you’re a rockstar, doesn’t mean I was going to let you take me home. It was just a few kisses here and a few touches there. ’s no big deal. I … we had an argument and I did … things … this … in the heat of the moment.”

“No big deal?” he repeats her words, shaking his head and furrowing his brows in disbelief.

“You’ll get over it,” she shrugs unapologetically, pulling her bra strap back over her shoulder before standing up from her position on the sofa and heading towards the doorway of the lounge. She doesn’t even turn back as she leaves and Matty emits a breathy laugh, almost shocked that he, Matty Healy, would be leaving the party tonight without a girl to fuck.

It’s humiliating for him — and his dick is still relatively hard, the tip surely leaking with his salty pre-come. He sighs heavily, throwing an arm over his face as he tries to ignore the twitching in his pants.

He takes a few deep breaths, composing himself, before reaching towards his jacket pocket and pulling out a packet of cigarettes and lighter. Taking a drag, he leans back against the sofa again, finally satisfied as his erection eventually begins to soften.

“No less than you deserve,” George suddenly mutters as he pushes himself away from the wall where he had watched the scene unfold. He draws in a deep breath from his own cigarette as he approaches Matty.

“Fuck sake,” Matty groans, embarrassed, running a hand through his dishevelled hair before taking another drag. It had been degrading enough for Matty to experience being mugged off by the younger girl, let alone one of his best friends having watched the interaction.

“Dick,” George murmurs under his breath, shaking his head, before flicking some ash from the cigarette still held loosely between his first and middle fingers.

Raising an eyebrow, Matty looks puzzled at his friend.

“What did you call me?” he asks breathily, in disbelief.

“I said,” George inhales, stepping closer, standing over his friend, and giving him a sarcastic smile, “You’re a dick.”

“Oh fuck off,” Matty quickly brushes it off as banter.

“’s a dick move,” George repeats once again with a shrug, although his tone is serious and filled with sincerity. He backs away slightly, standing upright once again as he drinks in Matty’s pathetic demeanour, shaking his head once again.

With the attitude and lack of humour, Matty realises that George is being serious. He’s upset about something, clearly pissed off — and now he’s worried.

“You knew she’d be here,” George tells him, pointing his forefinger towards Matty. “You fucking knew!” he grits his teeth, angrily, before turning around and running a hand over his face.

Matty stands up, prepared to square up to his best friend. Despite the fact that the boys never really argued much — and nothing was ever too serious between them — alcohol consumption and the fact that Matty’s really pissed off would be motive enough for them to have a few harsh words between each other.

“She saw you, Matty!” George yells, turning to face the other man again before grabbing at the collar of his white shirt. There’s no opportunity for Matty to react or defend himself as George shouts at him once again, pushing him against the wall and backing him into the corner.

The feeble one sided brawl earns a few concerned looks from the other party-goers as some guests slyly watch the commotion between the two men unfold, whilst others are more obvious, eager in their observations as they gossip amongst each other.

“She fucking saw you with another girl and it’s breaking her heart! Everything she ever did for you … she stood by you when everyone else fucked off and left you!” George shouts into Matty’s face, harshly reminding him who was there for him during his time of need.

“Who?” Matty asks, aghast. “Who saw me?”

George shakes his head in disbelief, loosening the grip on the collar of Matty’s shirt.

Inhaling another drag from his cigarette, George looks Matty up and down, regaining his composure.

“Who, George?” Matty repeats his question. “Who saw me?”

“She saw everything; y/n saw everything,” George closes his eyes as he speaks, almost pained on your behalf.

“She … she saw …” Matty stutters, releasing an in-breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. The mere mention of your name has his heart pounding within his chest, his palms sweating from anxiousness, his knees almost buckling beneath him.

So many questions were whizzing around his head right now.

He didn’t even know you’d be here; was none the wiser that you’d been invited.

Were you here alone or did you have company?

Why hadn’t you made it clear to him that you were here?

He hadn’t already seen you — had he?

Matty knew you — he fucking knew you. A party like this — this wasn’t your scene. Or had he just lacked so much attention this evening that you were able to bypass him at any given opportunity?

Because if he had have seen you, he would have made it his priority to have had you straddling his hips; your mouth suckling his prominent collarbones and leaving a permanent reminder, your cunt he’d be edging with his fingers, before your pretty lips would be begging to be wrapped around his cock.

Not the woman he can’t even remember the name of.

Guilt is his forefront emotion; a horrific feeling of shame overcoming him as he can only sympathise with how you must be feeling — you’d seen him in the company of another girl — a girl that wasn't you. Granted; it was a terrible context but it was still one that he could not excuse or condone — but the only reason he’d had a sleazy make out session was to distract himself from you. He had to find you and tell you.

Arriving at the party tonight, Matty had felt lonely — all of his friends were coupled up.

Ross and Chloe.

George and Charli.

Adam and Carly.

Matty and … nobody.

“She … she’s … here?” Matty finally chokes out.

George nods slowly, finally having calmed himself down as he seeks out the ash tray that stands on the coffee table behind him.

“Where … where is she?” Matty asks urgently, mirroring George’s actions and following suit as he too, stubs out his own cigarette.

“I don’t think she’ll want to see you, mate,” George tells him regrettably.

“I need to talk to her! I need to …” he shouts desperately, making a beeline for the door of the lounge, but George’s broad frame comes to stand in front of him and is able to stop him from going any further.

“You need to calm down first, yeah,” he begins, placing a hand on his chest, but Matty quickly interrupts.

“I am calm!” his tone contradicts him — although George knows his raised voice isn’t from a place of anger at you — but more so frustration towards himself.

“You’re angry,” George clarifies; it’s a statement, not a question.

Matty nods in agreement, knowing there’s no denying his emotions, before reassuring his friend, “Not at her, though.”

“I know,” George sighs, his eyes finding the ceiling as he contemplates allowing Matty to find you — but he’s really not sure that’s a good idea right now considering you had been having a breakdown no less than fifteen minutes ago.

“I’m not … don’t want t’ churn out any drama,” Matty runs his hand frustratedly through his hair, clearly at a loss. His eyes wander intensely around the room, unsure of how to approach the situation. “I just … want to make it right, ’s all,” he adds, desperation evident in his voice.

Matty knows — he fucking knows — he has to make this right. He doesn’t want to be finding a meaningless fuck at a party. It’s you — and only you — that he wants — and despite the breakdown of your relationship that was his fault, the history between you, the chemistry; it’s always you.

“Ok,” George sighs, defeated. He steps aside, allowing Matty the freedom he desires to find you, but he’s stopped instantly when Carly appears at the door frame, her cheeks blush and her features panicked as she catches her breath.

“Carly?” George questions, mirroring the concern etched on her face.

“What?” Matty’s husky voice asks. “What’s happened?” he repeats, urgency evident in his tone when he drinks in Carly’s solemn expression.

Time stands still for a few moments — George’s expression is full of confusion, his brows furrowed, and Matty’s stomach drops, his palms beginning to sweat and he’s worried — because he knows whatever she’s about to reveal isn’t good news.

Carly sighs heavily, her tongue running across her bottom lip before she finally utters the words, “It’s y/n.”

“Get out the fuckin’ way!” Matty’s voice can be heard as he forces his way through the sea of onlookers before he’s eventually pushed himself to stand at the forefront of the crowd, George and Carly hot on his heels as they both come to stand behind him.

The sight that greets Matty is one that he never, ever, thought he would see; and he wishes, so desperately, that this is a nightmare and he’s about to wake up any second now; but not all things were possible.

He’s certain, one hundred percent, that his heart stops beating once he claps eyes on you; fear and anxiety consuming his entire being as he suddenly feels nauseous, his mouth as dry as sandpaper and his legs wobbling like jelly.

Your body is passed out on the kitchen floor; limp and lifeless.

“No,” a strangled cry leaves Matty’s lips, as George’s hand comes to firmly rest on his shoulder.

It takes a moment before his brain can signal for his legs to move, shock taking over him as he looks down towards your unconscious body placed in the recovery position against the cold tiles.

“No, no, no, no,” he continues breathlessly as he lowers himself beside you. “She … is she …” he chokes on a sob, grabbing for your wrist. Placing two fingers on your pulse point, he sobs frantically once again, “I can’t … she hasn’t …”

“She has a pulse,” a voice sounds from the other side of your body.

Ross.

“She …” Matty stutters.

“It’s faint but that ambulance needs to hurry up,” Ross speaks more to himself — but it’s a hint to Adam as well — who Matty now realises is on the phone to a call handler. Adam rests a palm on the kitchen countertop, remaining calm as he passes on the crucial information to whoever is on the other end of his mobile, to ensure help arrives as soon as possible for you.

“What’s happened?” Matty cries out, not even attempting to compose himself in front of the onlookers as his eyes scan your features for any sign of visible injury.

There’s nothing upon his initial inspection; his eyes wandering briefly over your body — no bruises or bleeding; nothing that would indicate any valid reason as to why you’re passed out on the kitchen floor and unresponsive to everything going on around you.

“She’s …” Ross begins, “She collapsed. She’s taken …” he gulps nervously, unable to continue.

“What? What has she …” Matty begins, but he’s unable to vocalise the rest of his question as his eyes avert around the room, looking for any clues as to what substance you had abused.

Much to his horror, he notices the needle, spoon and empty packet that lays only a meter away from your unconscious body. The last straw for Matty is seeing the tie-off around your arm, and quickly recognising it as a shoe lace, he confirms his suspicions as his gaze wanders over your converse with the missing lace.

He shakes his head, attempting to rid himself of the thought of you injecting an illegal substance to numb the pain that he caused tonight. George was right; this was his fault.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, running an agitated hand through his hair.

It’s Ross who takes the lead on trying to stir you as he gently rolls you onto your back and applies a harsh stimulus, rubbing his knuckles along your sternum. “Come on, y/n,” he encourages. Adrenaline coursing through his own veins, he increasingly adds more pressure, no doubt leaving bruises along your chest.

“Come on, darling,” Matty whimpers, focusing his attention entirely on you as he instead runs a hand through your hair. It’s a reassuring gesture, one to let you know that you’re not alone, despite Matty knowing you’re completely unaware of your surroundings and the situation you’re currently in.

“Do you have any Naloxone?” Ross is confident he already knows the answer now that Matty himself is clean of heroin, but he clutches at straws anyway in any attempt to revive you, not once stopping applying the stimulus to your chest.

Matty shakes his head.

“No,” he swallows, his hand still stroking your hair affectionately.

If only it had been that simple. For once, he curses himself for no longer possessing the cruel and life changing heroin addiction he’d once been a victim to; maybe then he could provide an antidote that would reverse the opioid overdose.

“Alright everyone, out!” a voice suddenly yells.

Carly.

Despite her smaller frame and her sobriety, she’s forceful in her words.

“Come on, we don’t need an audience!” she speaks again, encouraging the guests to leave — although not giving them much of a choice as Charli and George come to her aid to create a barrier, ushering them away from the kitchen.

“We’ll keep them away and … entertained,” George murmurs, considering a choice of words, although he’s not sure either Matty or Ross are taking on board what he’s saying, understandably preoccupied with helping you. Together, the three of them ensure they maintain your dignity as much as possible.

There’s a few groans, some of the party goers wishing to be nosy at the scene unfolding. If Matty wasn’t so consumed by your unconscious state, terrified of your fate, he thinks he would have been physically violent towards some of these people, prepared to start a brawl with anyone who was revelling at your position and the drama unfolding.

“s ok, love,” Matty whispers softly, although he’s not sure if he’s attempting to reassure you or himself when there’s still no inkling of you coming round just yet.

“Fuck sake,” Ross mutters, as he observes the equipment sprawled across the floor nearby. His eyes averting to the shoe lace around your arm, he shakes his head, before saying, “Someone’s helped her to do this. She wouldn’t know where to start.” He gestures towards the equipment before returning to rubbing your sternum once again.

Matty whimpers, knowingly.

It was true; respectfully, you had no idea how to administer any form of illegal drug or how to even get hold of any such substance. Even when Matty himself was actively using, he made sure you were nowhere near heroin — or any other drug for that matter. The fact that the equipment littered around your unconscious body had indicated that you’d cooked a drug before injecting it made both Matty and Ross feel uneasy — another person had played a part in this.

“C’mon y/n,” Ross repeats.

It feels as though it takes a lifetime before any success comes of the stimulus Ross applies but a sudden choked splutter indicates your regain of consciousness.

However, there’s no time to waste as the two men kneeling at your frame quickly realise they need to roll you into the recovery position again. You emit a small whinge at the action, taking a dislike to being moved so suddenly before you vomit violently on the cold tiles beneath you.

“’s it darling, there we go,” Matty comforts you, reaching for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

He shuffles himself as close to you as he can possibly be, as though his presence alone could make you better, and not once fazed by the sick that you eject.

“That’s it baby, let it all out,” he encourages, brushing your hair away from your face as Ross rests his hand gently atop of your back as you uncontrollably empty the contents of your stomach.

“Ambulance will be another twenty minutes or so,” Adam murmurs softly as he comes to kneel beside you as well.

Keeping the phone pressed between his ear and shoulder, he looks between Ross and Matty as they try to deal with the copious amount of vomit. Adam shakes his head, knowing just how touch and go this situation could be for you now, and swooping in with one hand full of kitchen roll, he wordlessly begins cleaning up around you.

Your bout of sickness seems never ending and it’s obvious that the alcohol you’d consumed in high volume has also played a huge part in why your reaction to the heroin you’d injected was so severe, your body rejecting the liquids you’d downed that night.

“That’s it, good girl,” Matty praises you softly, once you finally stop being sick, gently resting his palm on your face, skimming your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sweetheart, how much have you taken?” Ross speaks next, hoping for some sort of response from you, although as he’d expected; nothing.

Instead, you let out a whimper, softly beginning to cry.

“’s alright darlin’,” Matty assures you, continuing to stroke your hair. “I’m here, we’re all here.”

“Did you take all of it, y/n?” Ross tries a different approach, reaching out for the empty syringe that had previously contained the contents of the illegal drug. There was no knowing just how much you had taken but Ross realised he had to consider the worst case scenario — that the syringe had been full.

There’s no answer once again. Unbeknown to what is happening to you at the moment, all you can do is express your dislike at the situation you’re in through a cry and an agitated moan; but at least you’re conscious. You’re alive.

“Hey, ’s ok,” Ross attempts to calm you down. “We’re gonna help you.”

The relief that both the men had felt over you being awake — although not alert — is short lived, however, when your cold and pale body goes limp once more, your breathing shallow as you fade back into unconsciousness against the tiles.

“No,” Matty raises his voice slightly in an attempt to keep you awake. “No, no. Stay with me y/n,” he encourages, gently shaking your frame.

Adam stands from his kneeling position on the floor, talking to the call handler with urgency to make them aware you’d once again slipped into a state of unconsciousness, leaving only the other two men towering over you.

Your lifeless body suddenly goes stiff before your limbs starting jerking and your eyes begin rolling into the back of your head and it takes Matty a few seconds to realise you’re having a seizure. Understanding completely, both Matty and Ross allow your body to move freely, not once restricting your uncontrollable movements.

‘Hann!” Matty shouts.

With Adam acutely aware of the severity of the situation, he passes on the vital information to the call handler once more, explaining that you’re experiencing a seizure. Ross’s eyes flit between everyone in the room; panic being the forefront emotion as your body continues to shake; compassion for Matty as he watches this nightmare unfold; all whilst wishing he could intercept the phone call mid-air to hear what is being said.

“That’s it darling, ride it out,” Matty reassures you. “‘m here, sweetheart, ‘m right here.”

“Fuck,” Ross mutters underneath his breath.

He removes the jacket he had been wearing throughout the course of the evening and places it carefully beneath your head, supporting you against the cold, hard tiles.

“Where’s that bloody ambulance?!” he shouts to Adam, as he checks his watch.

“ETA of ten minutes,” Adam responds without a beat.

“Ten minutes?” Ross questions rhetorically, shaking his head in disbelief, as he notes the time of your continuing seizure by tapping away aggressively on his phone.

“She needs them now!” Matty yells, a sob escaping his lips.

After three minutes, your body begins to regulate itself, your flailing limbs slowing as your previously tense body begins to relax, indicating your seizure had finally come to an end.

“That’s it darling, good girl,” Matty encourages once again. He tentatively reaches out his hand to comb through your hair once again, soothing you as you shiver and whimper against the cold tiles. “‘m right here, darling, ‘m not going anywhere.”

It feels like a lifetime, but after another seven minutes and true to their word, the distant sound of sirens can be heard — but Matty still can’t bring himself to breathe a sigh of relief just yet.

Since arriving at the hospital, you’d been cruelly snatched away from Matty, wheeled to your own private room where you received the treatment needed for a heroin overdose, leaving Matty, Ross and Adam in the family waiting area, none of them able to seek solace amongst the lacklustre slate walls, or the strong smell of disinfectant in the air.

The scene continues to play in Matty’s mind, all too easy to remember. When the paramedics had arrived, they quickly tended to your lifeless body, as the other three men watched on.

The hushed begs of, “Please help her,” and whispered prayers of, “Please please please,” had escaped Matty’s lips as the older female paramedic placed an oxygen mask over your mouth and nose to help your breathing.

She was a seemingly maternal lady, no judgement passed despite it being quickly obvious that you’d taken an illegal substance tonight, and she kindly told Matty, “We’re going to do everything we can to help your girlfriend.”

He didn’t correct her — although if it were different circumstances, he would have taken pride in people assuming you were a couple; as though it was obvious to the outside world that you both have an unbreakable connection to each other.

The younger male paramedic calmly asked questions — some unanswerable — as he began injecting your body with a substance — which Matty assumes is Naloxone; to reverse the effects of the opioid overdose.

What was your name? Which drug had you taken? How much of the drug had you taken? How much alcohol had you had to drink over the course of the evening? Did you have any allergies? How long did your seizure last? How much had you vomited?

Matty could barely think straight as he was being quizzed by the ambulance crew, although it almost felt as though it was an interrogation. The finger of suspicion would probably be pointed at him as to where you’d acquired an illegal drug, but he didn’t care about that right now; his priority was you.

When the paramedics were able to move you to the ambulance, they did, and Matty accompanied you all the way to the the nearest Accident and Emergency Department who would be more equipped to help you, whilst Adam drove himself and Ross to the hospital, following closely behind.

It had been agreed that Charli, George and Carly would stay at home on the understanding that they would be contacted if there was any change to your condition — and having ushered the guests away from the party, sending them elsewhere to continue their celebrations, the three of them were on hand if they were needed at short notice.

“Matty, just … just calm down, yeah?” Ross murmurs.

Matty emits a sarcastic, breathy laugh, continuing to pace aimlessly around the room, having done so since arriving. Running a hand through his curls, something that signals his distress, he repeats the words in a murmur.

“Calm down?” he scoffs, scuffing his shoes against the light grey flooring. “Calm down?!” he raises his voice, turning on his heel to see the other two men sat on the blue cushioned chairs.

“She’s strong, mate,” Adam reassures him, his knee bouncing and indicating his own nervousness at the situation. “She’ll be ok,” he adds, although even he’s having difficulty at being optimistic at this given moment.

“She overdosed,” Matty’s voice cracks, the image of your unconscious body sprawled across the kitchen floor, vomit surrounding you, your body seizing, cruelly plaguing his mind. “She … I thought she was …” he can’t vocalise the word, unable to finish his sentence in fear of it ringing true. “Fuck!” he swears angrily, his bawled fist making contact with the wall.

“Come ‘ere!” Ross yells, using all of his strength to pull Matty away, preventing him from punching the wall a second time. Despite Matty’s pathetic attempt to fight against his friend, fists hammering into his chest, Ross’s large hands come to rest on his face, forcing eye contact between them. “Listen … listen to me!” he encourages in a raised tone. “You need to be strong for her, Matty, y’hear me?” Ross’s own voice is thick with emotion.

Ross embraces Matty as another sob escapes his lips, and not once does he attempt to hide the intense emotions he was battling tonight — fear, worry, and anxiety all at the forefront.

“I shouldn’t …” he breaks off. “She shouldn’t … shouldn’t even … be here,” he chokes out, his obvious distress preventing him from forming a coherent sentence. “’s my fault, ’s all my fault,” he cries into Ross’s shoulder. “All the times I’ve used and I’m still here and she …” but he’s stopped when Ross pulls away from him, resting his hands on Matty’s shoulders.

“Don’t!” he warns, unwilling to comprehend the turn in conversation. “Don’t you fucking dare! This is not your fault! She was … unlucky,” he sighs, closing his eyes briefly, trying to shake the thought. “She went to the wrong person … people …” he furrows his brows, realisation suddenly dawning on him that someone at Charli’s party had taken full advantage of you — your distressed state having seen Matty’s make out session; praying on you and your vulnerability, providing you with an illegal substance you’d never even seen before, let alone experimented with.

It makes him — all of them — feel uneasy that someone had targeted you.

“s not your fault, Matty,” Adam softly pipes up with his reassurances. “Come on, mate. There’s no point in blaming yourself or getting angry, it’s not going to help anyone,” he speaks matter of factly, the voice of reason amongst them, as he anxiously drums his fingertips against his thigh.

“Come on,” Ross encourages him, nodding towards the cushioned chairs and coaxing him to take a seat. Matty does so before Ross offers, “Do you want a coffee?” as he sits beside him.

Matty shakes his head and whisper breathes a quiet, “No.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees before placing his head in his hands. His quiet sobs begin to subside as he finally regains his composure and regulates his breathing. “Fucking hate hospital coffee,” he murmurs in addition, and it’s the first lighthearted comment he’s made all evening.

“She’s gonna be fine,” Ross tells him again, placing a supportive arm around him.

“Thank you,” Matty breathes softly as he looks up and averts his gaze towards Ross next to him, sincerity laced in his tone. “To both of you,” he clarifies, looking between both Ross and Adam.

“What for?” Ross frowns.

“You were there … already helping her,” Matty shrugs, placing his palms against his thighs. “What happened?” he dares to ask, against his better judgement.

Licking his lips, Ross begins, “I’d gone to check on her. She’d been upset and … well, I know George told you,” he tells him, nervously shuffling in his chair. Ross knew better than anyone that Matty would be feeling incredibly guilty right now and to soften the blow, he’d decided to choose his words wisely.

“She saw me,” Matty confirms.

Ross nods his reply.

“She’d seen you in the lounge with … well, whoever it was,” he acknowledges the existence of the brunette woman. “I managed to get y/n out of there. Carly and Adam took her to the kitchen to calm her down. I caught up with George and Charli. The next thing I knew, I went to kitchen to find her again but she was alone.”

Ross shakes his head, and runs an agitated hand over his face, a feeble attempt at ridding himself of the horrific memory that vividly replays in his mind.

“She was stumbling around, trying to steady her balance against the kitchen side. She was muttering away, talking to herself … she didn’t make any sense,” Ross takes an in-breath before continuing. “I asked her if she was alright. I thought maybe she’d been drinking more, you know? She kept saying your name, said she needed to find you. That’s when she collapsed,” he clarifies. “I couldn’t wake her. At first I thought it was the alcohol that had affected her; made her paralytic. Everyone was looking so I wanted to move her to somewhere more comfortable. That’s when you came in,” he nods towards Adam.

“I saw it straight away,” Adam sighs regrettably, before clarifying his statement and briefly describing the events that had occurred. “The needle was on the kitchen side, the bag was empty, and there was a spoon and lighter next to it. We realised then what she’d done, so I phoned the ambulance. They said it was safer to keep her on the ground where she was, put her in the recovery position and not to move her. We made her as comfortable as we could … and that’s when Carly came and got you.”

Matty’s eyes begin to pool with tears again, his vision clouded as he can only imagine all too easily how the scene had played out. He feels sick with worry over you; guilty and ashamed at his own actions which had acted as a catalyst; and intense rage at whoever dealt the drug to you tonight.

“If she’d injected, it meant she’d cooked it …” Adam speaks aloud.

“I’ve never shown her how …” Matty trails off as he defends himself. “I never had that stuff around her.”

“We know, mate,” Ross reassures him. “You would never do anything to put her in harms way.”

“What if she gets addicted now?” Matty asks in a whisper, fear evident in his voice.

“She won’t,” Ross replies confidently.

“How can you be so sure?” he asks.

“You know her, mate. Just this once would have terrified her enough to never touch it again. She never used anything before and tonight would have been a one off. She probably met the wrong bastard tonight who took advantage. She probably thought that one time wouldn’t hurt her; that she’d be lucky,” he bases his assumption on how well he knows you.

Leaning back in his chair and resting his head against the wall, Matty closes his eyes. Bouncing his knee nervously, he draws a deep in-breath before murmuring, “I don’t want her going through the same thing as me. All I ever wanted to do was protect her from it. It was … different for me, I guess. It’s like I fell down a rabbit hole — the first time I took it and could disassociate from life — it was like a release. And I know it put a lot of pressure on us as a band, but …”

“Mate, you had an addiction. You were ill,” Adam intervenes, comforting his friend as whole new can of worms is about to be exposed about one of the worst times they’d experienced in their career as a band; but first and foremost, within their friendship.

“Didn’t mean I had to push her away, though,” Matty whispers. “I was so lucky when I went to rehab. Some people in that place had nothing; they’d lost their family and friends, their homes, their jobs, their money. I had everything; my family, you guys, I had her. But I still left rehab and scored other drugs and fucked everything up anyway,” he sighs deeply, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, mate,” Ross pipes up, resting a hand on Matty’s knee.

“She was always there for me,” Matty continues. “I just couldn’t be the boyfriend she needed me to be, but if I could go back and do it all again, I would do things so differently,” he whispers. “I should never have let her go.”

“Sounds like we’re not the ones you should be saying this to,” Adam half smiles.

Matty bites his lip, his thoughts running away with him as a comfortable silence fills the room.

He notes that his white dress shirt is still unbuttoned three from the top and the memory of the sordid make out session he had encountered earlier that night makes him feel queasy, a harsh reminder of the tragedy.

“How … how did you know what to do anyway?” Matty stutters as he clears his throat, breaking the quietness that had temporarily engulfed them.

Ross shrugs, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair before replying.

“I guess … well … we all kind of wanted to learn how to respond in that … situation … incase it was ever … you,” he’s careful with his words. Whilst Matty’s addiction had never been an attempt on his own life, the idea of an accidental overdose had spurred the rest of the band on recognising the signs, as well as the basics in how to respond to any such situation.

Although honesty was a crucial part of their friendship, talking about Matty’s heroin addiction had always been a difficult subject to approach. The illness had taken a toll on his physical and mental health, had destructed his relationships, and had negatively impacted his song writing. Rehab helped him get back to the person he once was before the addiction.

“I fucking love you guys,” Matty manages to choke out around the lump that formed in his throat at the turn in conversation, and for the first time this evening, he smiles a genuine smile.

With the small distance between the two of them sitting opposite each other, Adam, with his arms crossed firmly over his chest, gently taps his foot against Matty’s — and it’s a minor physical touch that would usually result in a game of footsies between the pair — only this time, it’s a reassuring nudge that would normally be a wordless indication of their feelings; but Adam finds it within him to vocalise an emotional, “We love you too, mate.”

As quickly as the three men succumb to another comfortable silence, it’s broken once again, with Ross not wanting to give Matty the opportunity to get too into his head with the lack of conversation between them, understanding his friend well enough to know he’d be imagining all sorts of scenarios — none of which likely to be positive.

“Do you need to go for a cig?” Ross asks.

“No,” Matty shakes his head — and it’s a shock to both the other men in the room. Someone who seemingly can’t go five minutes without a cigarette during a live performance actively turning down the vice he uses each day. “Don’t want t’ leave her,” he adds.

Almost as if on cue, a doctor donning a white coat and firmly gripping a clipboard with important documents attached in his large hands, enters the family room and introduces himself to all three men.

He shakes hands with Matty, who is the first to approach him.

Matty quickly fires questions at the medical professional, not once missing a beat as he barely catches his breath in between the queries about your health.

“How is she? Is she ok? Can I see her?”

Ross comes to stand behind him and rests a supportive hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze, to remind him of his friends’ presence — and that he’s not alone.

The doctor gives a reassuring smile, the first giveaway that your outcome is a positive one.

“I am sorry to tell you that y/n did in fact overdose on heroin; we’re yet to determine if that was intentional or accidental. The paramedics on scene administered Naloxone to reverse the effect of the opioid but another dose was required since fentanyl was also present. That combined with the level of alcohol in her system caused the severe reaction tonight, making it much easier to overdose, which is why it took her longer to respond to treatment.”

Matty groans at the information. The thought of you having mixed three substances together, although likely unknowingly, has him feeling physically sick at your vulnerability; and someone else’s cruelty.

“Fuck,” he shakily mutters under his breath, knowing just how severe this is. Shaking his head, he murmurs a quiet, “Sorry,” before allowing the doctor to continue with his medical findings.

“Since there’s no medical history of y/n experiencing seizures, it’s more than likely that it was brought on by the drug itself. Taking that into account, there doesn’t seem to be any reason as to why y/n won’t make a full recovery so overall I’d say she’s very lucky,” he pauses, before looking between the three men. “She’s awake, but is still a little drowsy, which is to be expected. I’d still like to keep her in for observation overnight, just as a precaution,” he says.

Whilst Matty understands the importance and necessity of this monologue, it seems to take forever for the doctor to spiel medical jargon, before he finally speaks aloud the words that Matty longs to hear.

“You can go and see her.”

It takes a few minutes for Matty to pluck up the courage to enter your hospital room to see you, his palms beginning to sweat out of anxiousness and his heart occasionally skipping a beat. He’d been desperate to remain by your side since arriving at the hospital, a strong desire to interfere with the doctors and nurses that had tended to your lifeless body, almost as though he could be the one to cure you.

Questions plague his mind as he runs through several scenarios.

Would you even want to see him after the events that had built up to your accidental overdose tonight? After all, if he hadn’t been so concerned with getting his end away with a random, then you wouldn’t have felt the need to find a vice to cope with your feelings. He was the reason you were here — and he’s probably the last person you want to see.

What would he say to you? No words in the English language could be vocalised to condone his behaviour this evening. Sadly, your latest memory of him was a sordid, dirty, not-so-secret make out session in the corner of a room — not very classy, and not in the least bit romantic. Sorry seemed false; even though he was undeniably apologetic, but no amount of regret could rewind the clock, no matter how much he wished for it.

Running a hand over his face, he rids himself of any negative thoughts, composing himself. He had to stop being selfish; to remove any egotistical notion of himself. This wasn't about him anymore. This was about you.

He takes a deep breath before placing his hand on the doorknob. He pushes it gently so that the door is fractionally ajar, so as not to startle you, and then, almost impatiently, he extends his arm, opening the door fully to reveal you to him.

His eyes find you immediately. Your fragile figure lays still in the hospital bed, looking almost helpless and it saddens Matty to see because he knows how much you would hate that. He avoids reacting to your demeanour, not wishing to alarm you.

Still, you were conscious.

“Hey,” he whisper breathes a sigh of relief, giving you a small smile. “You look better than when I last saw you,” Matty tells you softly, as he comes to stand at the end of your hospital bed, his patent shoes clicking against the tiles when he halts.

Hands in his pockets, he looks rough; you note; as though he hasn’t slept in weeks. The stubble around his jawline denotes he hasn't shaved in the last couple of weeks at least, most likely due to tour commitments. His dishevelled hair is a solid indicator that he’s run his hand through it many times — or someone else has — and perhaps it's because you haven’t seen him in a while — or maybe it’s because he’s mid-thirties — but the grey strands are becoming more prominent atop of his head.

He drags his bottom lip between his teeth, anxiously, although attentively, observing your surroundings. Monitors bleep around you, screens recording your vitals — numbers that mean absolutely nothing to him — but the consistency that the machines offer indicates that you must be within healthy ranges. Bags of liquid are hanging on a drip stand and IV’s are inserted into your veins pumping unknown substances into your body.

Removing a hand from his pocket, he nervously clears his throat as he slowly makes his way around the bed and towards you, before finally stopping beside you. Tentatively, he lowers himself and perches on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking slightly beneath his weight.

Even in your drowsy state, lethargy consuming your entire body, you roll your eyes at his comment and Matty’s never been happier to hear a breathy laugh escape your lips. Reaching for the oxygen mask, you attempt to remove it, but Matty’s hand is quickly placed over yours, stopping you from doing so.

“No, no, keep it on darling,” he whispers delicately.

Your lack of energy, consumed by tiredness, as well as the the throbbing pain across your forehead ensures you don’t fight him on this one, instantly giving up, your hand going slack underneath his. Satisfied that you won’t oppose his actions any further, he rests his hand against his thigh.

Matty’s eyes avert to your other hand which rests atop of the hospital blanket. He’s somewhat hesitant before deciding to reach towards you, his fingertips brushing against your skin, careful not to dislodge the drip inserted into a prominent vein. When you don’t flinch at the physical contact, he encloses your hand within his own.

Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes, as though his admission will be more bearable to speak aloud if he can’t see your reaction.

“I was so scared,” he whispers.

He opens his eyes again, drinking in your exhausted demeanour.

“I was so fucking scared,” he repeats, with equally as much conviction as the first time.

“Matty,” you whisper tearfully at his words, your tone apologetic.

“Never wan’ to see you like that ever again, you hear me? You … you don’t get to do that,” his words are a firm warning but he lacks any threat with a soft tone, an oxymoron of emotions engulfing him as his voice wavers, his thumb skimming the upside of your hand. “You don’t get to do that to me. Can’t lose you darling.”

He swallows the lump that’s formed in his throat. Metaphorically, he’d already lost you in the midst of a relationship breakdown — but the mere thought of you losing your life to the same substance he had battled an addiction with for several years would literally break him.

You reach for your oxygen mask once again, and when Matty attempts to prevent you from doing so a second time, you swat his hand away — albeit pathetically — removing it from your face.

“I didn’t mean to,” you desperately try to convince him. “It was an accident,” you tell him, tears pooling in your eyes.

One of the machines begins to beep harshly, the numbers displayed on the screen increasing rapidly, and Matty immediately realises that your heart rate has spiked.

Determined to soothe you, Matty reassuringly squeezes your hand.

“I know, darling. I know. Just calm down for me, yeah?” he encourages, leaning forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You offer a small nod in response although his words seem to have no positive effect as the bleeping continues with the same level of consistency, numbers incessantly and hastily increasing.

“Listen to me, y/n,” his tone is firmer this time, obvious desperation laced in his words. “I need you to calm down for me. Take a deep breath,” he models it himself, inhaling air deeply into his lungs through his nose and exhaling through his parted lips.

You copy him, mirroring his actions a few times.

“If you need this again,” he gestures towards the oxygen mask but you shake your head as your breathing begins to regulate a little and the numbers on the heart rate monitor gradually decrease once more.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you assure him.

He nods, understanding, but encourages you to continue, “Deep breaths, love.”

You compose yourself relatively quickly, almost surprised at your own resilience as you inhale and exhale a few more times, steadying your breaths and repeating the action until you’re fully calm.

“That’s it,” he praises, stroking your hand with his own, whilst his other hand finds its fingers twirling through your hair, stroking loose strands out of your face.

He takes a few moments, allowing you to succumb to the peace that surrounds you both — but he has questions and he yearns for answers.

“Do you think you can tell me what happened tonight?” he practically dares to ask.

You shift uncomfortably beneath the thin blanket that covers you, barely keeping you warm. Taking a deep breath, you nod, nervousness consuming you as you brace yourself, preparing to inform Matty about the events that had occurred earlier that evening.

“I saw you,” you state matter of factly, although it’s not news to him. “You were with someone … another girl,” you clarify.

Your gaze subconsciously averts away from Matty’s but out of the corner of your eye, you’re hyperaware that he also follows suit, unable to make eye contact with each other at the harsh admission. Your cheeks redden slightly in embarrassment, whilst his features are full of guilt.

“I saw you coming out of the bathroom together at first. I didn’t realise it was serious, not until … well, I came down to the lounge and you were … the two of you were …” you trail off, fiddling with the hospital admission band around your wrist that suddenly becomes interesting.

The pads of Matty’s thumbs gently massage your skin, encouraging you to continue. Raising his head and meeting your gaze, you’re able to find the strength to carry on.

“I was upset and didn’t want to feel anything. I’d had a lot to drink but that wasn’t numbing the pain. So when I was offered heroin,” you shrug. “It never affected you that way so I thought … I thought I’d be ok,” you whimper, your bottom lip trembling.

“Darling,” Matty whispers, his thumb gently soothing your skin as your hand remains enveloped in his. “It affects everyone differently. There’s so many factors that affect someone’s reaction to drugs — the amount you’ve taken, it’s purity, what it’s cut with, the method of using …” he begins to list.

“I know, I know,” you shake your head, cutting him off.

You already felt foolish enough for ever trusting the guy you’d met tonight in the kitchen — felt embarrassed that many people had seen you unconscious against the cold tiles, vomiting and experiencing a seizure. Whilst you know it’s not Matty’s intention, the last thing you want — or need — is a lecture.

Instantly understanding, Matty drops the topic as quick as he'd raised it, and instead, decides to pass on the good news.

“The doctor says you’re lucky; reckons you’ll make a full recovery. You just need to rest,” he breathes a sigh of relief himself as his sentence rolls effortlessly off of his tongue.

Your ears prick up at his words and you give him a hopeful smile.

“Does that mean I can go home?” you ask, suddenly sitting yourself upright, ignoring the pounding in your head accompanied by the dizziness, in turn making you feel a little nauseous.

Home.

Matty wonders where home is for you now.

In an ideal world, Matty would want you living with him again — reliving your favourite memories that you experienced as the couple you once were when you were unconditionally in love with each other, as well as making new ones together.

You’d be waking up in his bed each morning; sometimes to sex, always to coffee, with mundane household chores threatening to be completed as adulthood entailed cooking, cleaning, tag teaming washing the dishes, and starting petty arguments over whose turn it was to dispose of the rubbish on bin day (it was his turn every week).

He would give the world and more to have you telling him that you don’t mind what film you watched together — even though you did — only for you to fall asleep within minutes of putting it on. He would ensure that you have warm, fluffy towels for after your bubble bath, and you’d be welcomed into the kitchen with the inviting aromas of your favourite dishes that he’d cook for you.

Matty would keep you safe — always — keeping a watchful eye over you so as something like this could never occur again, giving not one single soul the opportunity to hurt his girl — and the realisation dawns on him that perhaps one of his downfalls was that no matter how hard he tried in this lifetime, he couldn’t protect you from everything.

“They want to keep you in overnight,” he breaks the bad news to you, regrettably.

“No,” you whine, emitting a groan as you roll your eyes to the ceiling.

“‘m sorry, love,” his tone is apologetic, “But they want to monitor you.”

“Please, Matty. I’m fine! Please see if they will discharge me tonight,” you beg, your doe-eyes pleading with him.

“Darling,” he murmurs softly, stroking your hand reassuringly once again. “You overdosed on heroin, which was cut with fentanyl, by the way,” he informs you, before continuing matter of factly, “Your alcohol levels were through the roof, you had a seizure and you were sick. You’re in the best place right now.”

There was truth behind Matty’s words and you know it. Admitting defeat, you know there’s no arguing against the doctor’s decision to monitor you overnight.

Instead, you ask, “Stay?” your tone nervous, as you softly plead with Matty. “Will you stay with me?”

Matty exhales a shaky breath, offering a small smile as relief washes over him that you want him; need him.

“Of course I’ll stay, ‘m not going anywhere.”

There’s not much time to succumb to the silence that threatens to engulf the two of you as a hesitant knock, accompanied by a throat-clearing cough, can be heard against the grey door to your hospital room. Straining your neck and peering towards the entrance, you notice two figures lingering in the doorway, one of which is leaning against the doorframe.

Matty whips his head around to see who the disruption is, before turning back to meet your gaze and announcing with a small smile, “I think someone want to say hello.”

As if on cue, Ross and Adam enter your hospital bay and approach you. Coming to stand beside you, Ross acknowledges you with a small kiss to your temple and Adam rests a hand atop of your hospital blanket, reassuringly squeezing your leg.

“How’re doing?” Adam is the first to ask, as they each take a seat in the grey plastic chairs beside your bed.

You give a small nod and shrug in tandem.

“I’m ok,” you tell them — although even you know that they know that you’re not being entirely truthful so you decide to elaborate on your answer further, providing them with some honesty at least. “I’m tired and have a headache, but other than that I’m alright.”

“You scared us back there,” Ross pipes up, worry evident in his tone.

“I’m sorry,” your eyes avert to your hand enveloped in Matty’s.

“Don’t be,” Ross softly murmurs, shaking his head and resting a hand atop of your arm.

You shake your head in protest.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” you tell them apologetically, sincerely adding, “I’m sorry that you had to deal with me like that.” You shake your head slightly, closing your eyes for a brief second as embarrassment consumes you.

“’s not your fault,” Ross tells you. “We’re just glad you’re ok.”

“Thank you,” your eyes flit between the three of them this time, acutely aware of the vital role they had all played tonight in getting you the help you needed from the emergency services. You can only imagine how terrifying and surreal the ordeal must have been for them as well.

“Don’t need to thank us,” Matty furrows his brows.

“If you hadn’t …” you begin. “I’d be dead,” you state it so matter of factly, that Matty feels physically ill.

“Don’t, y/n,” he gently warns, unable to fathom any other outcome.

Silence fills the room, further accentuating the bleeping sounds of the machines that whir around you. For the first time, it’s an awkward quietness, seemingly uncomfortable between the four of you once the discussion had taken a darker turn.

However, there’s still one more topic of conversation dancing on the lips of the three men amongst you but nobody has seemed willing to take the lead in voicing their thoughts just yet — that is until Ross clears his throat, less confident than he actually appears as he delivers his question.

“Who gave it to you?” he asks, a strong desire to know who dealt you the drug.

“I don’t know,” you shrug.

“Please, y/n,” Matty begs breathlessly, his eyes finding the ceiling. “Please don’t protect anyone,” he pleads, the pad of his thumb continuously circling itself against your hand.

“I don’t know,” you repeat. “Honestly. It was a random guy who got talking to me. I didn’t even ask his name.”

Your earnest tone is all that’s needed for them to know you’re telling the truth; you’d just been unfortunate enough for your vulnerable self to fall victim to the dealer this evening, him cruelly having taken full advantage of your distressed state.

"If I ever find out who it was," Matty begins, using his free hand to clench his fist out of anger.

“Don’t,” you practically beg, shaking your head. “Please don’t. It was my own fault. I should never have listened to him or trusted him in the first place. It was a bad idea and I knew it. I just went against my own judgement in the heat of the moment and acted on impulse.”

Whilst you knew how it appeared, you really weren’t defending the dealer who had provided you with the substance and tools that could have resulted in you ending your life tonight — but the last thing you wanted was violence. Neither Matty, Ross or Adam had fighting tendencies and that wasn’t about to change because of you and your one mistake.

Ross sniggers slightly, before raising an eyebrow as he looks between you and Matty.

“Impulse? You two really are perfect for each other,” he laughs.

You roll your eyes at the humour implied in his light hearted comment. It was public knowledge that Matty would often find himself in hot water due to acting on impulse, often through the portrayal of an online persona, or through expressing controversies during live performance and interviews.

You had often scolded him during your relationship, heavily reminded him of his role model status to many young and impressionable fans, because his words had consequences, often resulting in him being ‘cancelled.’

Before you can respond, another small knock at the door indicates an interruption for the second time — saddened when the nurse on call entered the room and informed you that only one person could be at your bedside for the remainder of the night.

Adam emits a groan, admitting defeat once the nurse bids you farewell for the night, although not before reminding both you and Matty that she’s on duty throughout the course of the early hours and until sunrise, so if you needed anything, she was your go-to.

“Suppose we best be off then,” Adam rolls his eyes.

“You take care,” Ross offers you a smile and presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “See you soon, mate,” he reaches forwards and offers Matty a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You look after her,” he finishes his goodbyes.

Once the hustle and bustle of them leaving your hospital room subsides, you and Matty are left only in each other's company, surrounded by a comfortable silence once more.

Your eyes avert to the window of your hospital room as you observe the outside world, nothing but darkness consuming everything at this ungodly hour, with the exception of the few street lamps that light up the hospital car park that your room overlooks.

With your hand still enveloped within Matty’s, you can feel his eyes focussing on you — and you alone.

“I’m ok,” you whisper softly, turning to Matty, distracting him from his own thoughts.

“Hmm?” he hums, indicating that he had been out of touch with reality. Your statement had grounded him, bringing him mentally back into the room with you as he looks up to meet your gaze.

“I said I’m ok,” you repeat, and it’s your turn to massage the palm of his hand with your thumb, reassuring him you are physically well — and alive.

He nods in acknowledgement but it’s clear he has a lot plaguing his mind. You decide not to push him just yet, knowing him well enough that he’ll communicate his thoughts and feelings on his terms, although you're surprised when his response comes almost immediately.

“I thought …,” Matty exhales a shaky breath, tears pooling in his eyes, “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologise, your bottom lip trembles, the heightened emotions you’re both feeling needing to be addressed with each other properly. There was still so much to say, so many things you had to discuss, questions that had to be asked, answers that needed clarifying.

Matty shakes his head vigorously, stopping you from continuing your apology.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” his tone is full of sincerity. “I just need you to know that … if I’d lost you … I don’t know what I’d do.”

He chokes on a sob, the memory of your unconscious body sprawled across the kitchen floor still haunting him — and he fears that your lifeless frame will appear in his nightmares every time he closes his eyes. Bringing your hand up to his lips, he presses a soft and tender kiss against your skin.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

“Matty,” you breathe, comprehending his words immediately.

“I love you so much, darling,” he whispers.

“I love you too,” you reply, barely missing a beat.

He knew it were true; you didn’t say things you didn’t mean.

“I’m sorry if I ever … that I let you down,” he adds — and it’s not a comment out of guilt or pity for himself. It’s an apology to you — an earnest admission, honest and sincere, as he recalls the times when he hadn’t been the boyfriend he should have been for you.

“You haven’t,” you whimper, choking on a sob, emotion overcoming you at the sudden change in dynamic of the conversation. “Matty, you never let me down. You had an addiction! I know that you came off the heroin after rehab but you were still battling a drug addiction. You still needed something to get through life, a vice to help you cope. If anything, I’m sorry that I didn’t recognise the signs sooner and get you help.”

“Darling,” Matty gently warns.

Whilst he understands the importance of this much needed conversation between the two of you, it’s a topic he doesn’t want to explore too deeply just yet — there’s plenty of time to discuss everything that had contributed to the breakdown of your relationship but right now, you needed to focus on your own recovery from tonight.

“Not now, eh?” it’s a rhetorical comment.

Before he can stop himself, he leans forward, resting his forehead gently against your own. It’s the closest he’s been all night and you can still smell the smoke that lingers on his clothes; the warmth of his breath fanning your cheeks each time he softly exhales. He feels like home. His eyes avert downwards towards his hand intertwined with your own in his lap — and it feels right.

“We have a lot to talk about,” you whisper, breaking the silence, your lips a hairs breadth from his.

Nervously gulping, as though an in love, giddy teenager, Matty agrees.

“Yeah, we do. But it can wait, darling. You need to rest.”

You shake your head, a feeble attempt at protesting against his suggestion.

“Rest, sweetheart,” he reiterates. “We can talk about everything tomorrow, yeah?”

You both know you won’t. Matty will still want to give you time to recover, waiting on you hand and foot, treating you as though you’re made of glass for at least the next month — but you don’t actually think you’d mind.

“I’ll still be here. I’m not going anywhere,” he reaches forwards, resting his palm gently against your cheek.

Muscle memory, instinct, and habit amalgamate and you tilt your head towards his hand, leaning into his soft touch on your face. The welcomed familiarity makes your heart swell as he cradles your cheek. Inching forwards ever so slightly, Matty presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his soft, plush lips lingering against your skin for longer than necessary — but you weren't complaining.

“‘m not going anywhere,” he repeats quietly, emotion thick in his voice as he swallows the small lump that has formed in his throat, his brain in overdrive as he contemplates the magnitude of events that had occurred tonight.

“You promise?” you question, as you raise your hand to cover his own, your fingers intertwining with his against your blush cheeks.

“I promise.”

78 notes · View notes

mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞?

james potter x reader

summary: when lily berates james for bullying snape by the black lake, you call her out on her hypocrisy, forcing james to confront how he feels about both of you.

w/c: 5.3k

notes: friends to lovers, mutual pining and mutual idiocy, angst with a happy ending bc im such a sap for it, canon-level "violence," lily's kinda villainized here but lowkey i think there's some truth to it, uhhh swearing. overly detailed retelling of the actual OotP scene bc i pulled out my book for this

(also i realized after i finished writing that this has "you belong with me" energy)

you’d just finished one of your o.w.l.s, and to celebrate, you, sirius, and peter were deep into an intense shit-talking session that remus pretended not to be listening in from where he sat hunched over a book. james was fluffing his hair in case he ran into lily.

“it’s a bit creepy, really,” peter whispered, throwing a genuinely concerned look at james over his shoulder.

“the fact that he’s been practically brainwashed or the fact that he’s literally stalking her every move?” sirius shook his head in disbelief.

“the first one,” you jeered. “both. i don’t know, and i don’t care. all i know is that lily’s incorrigible and that james is out of his mind. even if she liked him back, which she doesn’t, james shouldn’t be with someone like her anyway.”

sirius raised his eyebrows at you, but peter was the one to voice what the two boys were thinking. “how much of this is you caring about prongs’ wellbeing and how much of this is you hating lily evans because you’re clearly in love with him?”

you scoffed, leaning in so you could hiss loudly at peter without being overheard. “first of all, i am not in love with james. he’s an important friend of mine; am i not allowed to care about him? secondly, i don’t hate lily evans. i just think everyone gives her too much credit. nobody holds her accountable for anything because she’s so perfect and pretty and polite and it makes me so frustrated-”

james wrapped his arms around your neck and placed his chin on the crown of your head. “what are we gossiping about over here, ladies?”

you shrugged him off your shoulders, flustered at how close he’d been to hearing your conversation. sirius gave you The Look™ and you rolled your eyes.

“what’s got you all worked up, huh?” james crouched by your chair, respecting your desire not to be touched but still wanting to be close to you. “is it snivellus again? merlin, that wanker has something against you, i swear.” james paused thoughtfully. “well, s’ppose it’s cos you hang out with us. he hates all of us.”

“nah, i think he’s got a separate qualm about me,” you muttered bitterly, knowing full well that he’d still harbored a distaste for you ever since you and lily had butted heads in third year. this was the second year he’d maintained the grudge.

“he doesn’t matter anyways,” peter reassured you, patting your knee gently. you looked up at him and smiled. peter was a sweet boy. you’d always appreciated his willingness to listen to you.

“right lads, i think it’s time to head out then.” james pushed himself upright with his hands on his thighs, brushing invisible dust off his jumper. he looked at you, voice softening. “y’coming?”

you bit back a smile, taking his extended hand and trying to ignore the butterflies that felt more like pangs and less like flutters these days. as much as you’d tried, you couldn’t push away those pesky feelings for your best friend. it was worse knowing that he was hopelessly in love with another girl.

sirius pulled remus from his cushy armchair, and the two of them murmured quietly to each other before sirius pointed at you and james’ intertwined hands and remus waggled his eyebrows suggestively. you caught them staring and flipped them off.

“woah, what was that for?” james chuckled, pulling you closer to his chest as you stepped out the portrait frame. you shivered at the momentary press of your body against his.

“pads and moony. they’re being stupid,” you explained vaguely. how were you supposed to tell james that they were mocking you for your unrequited affections?

it was sunny and cloudless out, with a ticklish breeze that would pass through every once in a while and send goosebumps up your arms. when you passed the courtyard on your way out the castle, you couldn’t help but tear yourself out of james’ arms and grab a handful of leaves to attack him with. he didn’t bother gathering a leaf pile of his own; rather, tackled you into the grass and ran his fingers up and down your torso until you conceded in painful bouts of laughter.

sirius and james had run ahead, with peter just a couple steps behind, as the five of you approached the black lake. you and remus were walking leisurely, enjoying the silence that was rare when being amongst the mauaruders.

“so, you and james?” remus broke the silence with an oddly formal question.

you choked. “me and- you and sirius?” you fired back, desperately trying to avoid talking about how you’d perpetually be friend zoned by james potter and then have to watch as he swept away the love of his life and your semi-nemesis, lily evans.

“touché.”

leaves crunched under your feet as you and remus caught up to your three friends, who were entertaining themselves with leaves and sitting in the roots of a sturdy beech tree. to anyone else, it might’ve looked childish, but you found it endearing.

james had found a seat between two large roots and was sitting comfortably with his back against the trunk. you slid down beside him until your knees bumped. it was mindless moments of intimacy like this one, where you’d touch each other like it meant nothing, that made you get your hopes up. you cursed yourself for caving into james’ magnetic presence.

“so, how d’you reckon your exam went?” james sighed, letting himself slump against the tree carelessly.

“oh godric, why would you bring that up?” you groaned, taking the opportunity to place your cheek on the top of james’ mop of curls, as he was so slouched that his head was below your chin.

james chuckled. “i jus’ know you’re smart, figured it would’ve gone easier for you than me.”

you poked his arm teasingly. “you’re ridiculous. james potter, admitting that somebody was better than him?”

“oi, i never said you were better than me, you’re just smart, that’s all.” he pushed himself up to shove his face closer to yours confrontationally.

“did you like question ten, moony?” sirius snickered as he juggled an apple that he’d managed to sneak out without anybody knowing.

“oh, i loved it. give five signs that identify a werewolf,” he pitched his voice up in a poor imitation.

“d’you think you managed to get all the signs?” james asked, feigning concern. from beside him, you laughed quietly. a small smile flickered on james’ face at the sound of your happiness, and his fingers crawled over to your hand until his palm was covering the back of yours.

remus snorted. “think so. one: he’s sitting in my chair. two: he’s wearing my clothes. three: his name rhymes with lemus rupin…”

james and sirius laughed loudly, whereas you and lupin exchanged knowing smiles and peter didn’t show amusement whatsoever.

much like sirius, james had managed to sneak something out of the castle too. only, it wasn’t an apple, it was a snitch.

“hey, where’d you get that?” you watched james in wonder as he fiddled with the snitch like a simple toy, letting it fly a foot or so away and then snatching it back with ease. your eyes trailed over his long fingers, his knuckles that had pinkened from the chill, and the veins that ran up his forearm so tauntingly…

“nicked it,” he said offhandedly, pretending he wasn’t reveling in the attention you gave him. he’d steal a hundred more stitches and take all the detentions if it meant you’d look at him like that—with reverence, not the platonic indifference you gave all your mates.

remus, unbothered with his nose back in his book, was resting his head very close to sirius’ lap. sirius shook his head, amused by his best friend’s antics. “put that away, would’ja?”

james sighed dramatically, but pocketed the snitch. he turned and dipped his head down to get a good look at you, eyes flickering between your own curiously. your heart pounded.

“hey, prongs! look who it is.” sirius wore a no good smirk on his face.

“snivellus…” james sneered. you thought that maybe he’d drop your hand and saunter over, excited as always to make a show of their rivalry, but instead, he intertwined your fingers between his and squeezed your hand twice.

“you alright, snivellus?” james shouted. you looked at peter; the two of you knew exactly where this was going and didn’t care much for it.

snape was quick to dig through his robes for his wand, but james was faster, having already withdrawn his own. “expelliarmus!”

you squeezed james’ hand in return, a warning to not push things too far this time. everybody was exhausted from exams. you (and remus) were in no mood to de-escalate a hoard of bickering teenage boys.

“impedimenta!” james commanded, much to sirius and a growing crowd of students’ delight. you continued to hold his hand but turned your head from his to engage in a silent conversation with peter.

“how was the exam, snivelly?” james yelled.

“i was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment,” sirius said viciously. “there’ll be grease marks all over it, they won’t be able to read a word.”

you pinched your lips together to hold back a small smile. you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t somewhat enjoy watching snape be put in his place.

“what was it you were saying earlier?” james made a big show of tapping his chin like he was pondering something great. “ah, i remember! that you’d score higher than our lovely girl here? pretty bird’s quite clever, y’know.”

at james’ words, you remembered what snape had said to you a few hours before the exam. you muggle, he’d spat at you like it was the worst insult he could muster up. always in my shadow, always a couple marks behind me. i don’t know why you bother showing up to exams, much less class. you’re hardly a witch. you’re hardly worth something.

you’d tried not to let it throw you off. you and snape had always been academic rivals, his distaste for you heightened by your blood status, and the animosity between the two of you had only grown once you’d found yourself on lily’s bad side. but you hadn’t been expecting something so hostile from him; at least, not before your o.w.l.s. you’d gone and told james immediately, who comforted you.

you fumed, poking your head from behind james’ body. “it’s quite cowardly, you know, that your biggest worry is being outscored by a muggle-born girl. i can’t tell which is more pathetic, the fact that you’re so freakishly obsessed with my parents or that you’re a misogynistic pig.”

the crowd that’d gathered around your friends and snape’s struggling figure chortled, and you perked up, your ego stoked.

snape glared at you with such hostility that your face pinched in a combination of confusion and disgust. he blindly felt for his wand as he sprung curses and threats upon the five of you.

james sighed theatrically. “didn’t mummy teach you manners? wash out your mouth,” he said coldly. “scourgify!”

thick, pink bubbles of soap spilled from snape’s mouth, collecting up his nostrils until he couldn’t breathe and began to choke…

“leave him ALONE!” lily appeared by snape’s side in an instant, crouching by his body.

“gd’afternoon, evans.” james’ voice darkened in richness, suddenly suave instead of piercing.

“leave him alone,” lily glared. “what’s he ever done to you?”

you opened your mouth to speak, but james held you back with a strong arm. “well, it’s more the fact that he exists, if y’know what i mean.”

“you think you’re so funny, don’t you? but all you are is an arrogant, bullying toerag. leave him alone, or i swear…”

“i’ll leave him alone if you go out with me, evans. go out with me, and i won’t lay a wand on old snivelly again.” james’ voice softened to the tone he only reserved for you, and though it was your hand he was holding, and your body he was leaning into, your heart began tearing itself into dejected, limp strings.

“i wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” lily retorted.

you were right there. you were literally right there, hopelessly in love with your best friend, who was pining after a girl who didn’t love him—or, maybe she did—when you were right there.

you were torn from your thoughts as james yelped in pain, looking down at his robes to find specks of blood splattered across his shirt. you gasped, scrambling upright to examine the cut on his cheek.

james was already pointing his wand at snape in retaliation. with a flash of light, snape was dangling by his ankle midair, his robes falling down to hang by his face as his pale legs and graying underwear were exposed.

lily snapped. “PUT HIM DOWN!”

the crowd that had formed did not share lily’s outrage. with another flick of his wand, james released snape from his dangling position and left him petrified on the grass. “petrificus totalus!”

lily, realizing james would never let up at this rate, came storming over to the five of you. you jumped to your feet, eyes blazing with the same fury.

“you leave him alone,” she hissed spitefully.

your nose wrinkled in distaste. “and what do you want, evans? why is it that you’re always running to save your pitiful excuse of a boyfriend? he’s a fucking blood supremacist, you oblivious idiot. y’know, you are who you associate with. you wouldn’t be the first muggle born to take you-know-who’s ideology.”

lily seethed, james’ presence long gone as she turned her attention towards you. “what are you saying? are you saying i’d associate with the likes of death eaters? do you really think i’m that stupid, that i’d turn against my own identity? if anything, you’re the daft one.”

“you know what? you and snivellus can go fuck off-”

lily raised her wand menacingly, not touching it to your body but holding it at an angle pointing towards you, close enough that she could easily poke you with it at any moment. “you’re just as bad as james, y’know? a slimy, sorry excuse for a witch, picking on people to make you less ins-”

james jumped to his feet, pushing the both of you apart with a hand on each of your shoulders. sirius was on his feet as well, arms crossed and ready to intervene. the gaggle of onlookers was murmuring amongst themselves. the students of hogwarts were used to james and snape’s fights and james and lily’s arguments, but never had they witnessed the two of you throwing such scathing words at each other.

james had to admit, you did have a point.

“you’re such a hypocrite, evans,” you sneered. “you’ll look the other way while snape and his death eater buddies prey on first-year muggle borns, but explode at james and the rest of us for harmless pranks. it’s only a matter of time until snape targets you next, and i bet you’ll be all upset then, won’t you? because nobody else’s suffering matters until it affects sad, sensitive, spoiled lily evans.” you all but spat at her feet, hurling cruelties at the girl remorselessly.

“i’m a better person than you’ll ever be. severus has never done anything to you, and he’s my friend, and you need to lay off him. excuse me if i care about my friends; sorry i just want to help-”\

“i don’t need help from filthy mudbloods like her!”

you and lily froze at snape’s defiling slur. lily didn’t turn to look at snape, nor did she move, but you could see the way that she’d stopped blinking and the moisture that began to collect at the corner of her eyes. you disliked, maybe hated, lily evans, but you hated snape more.

“evans, i’m sorry, i-”

she cut you off with a haughty upturn of her chin. “i don’t want your apologies.” she turned on her heel and made towards the castle.

it was only then that james dropped your hand to chase after the redhead, his hands outstretched in the same way he’d been toying with the snitch earlier, and you stared at remus, sirius, and peter with your mouth parted in post-adrenaline shock.

you collapsed to the ground, rubbing your forehead with your hand, dizzy from the intensity of the unexpected confrontation. sirius came around to take you in his arms, pulling you into his chest and rubbing your back in firm circles. the pressure calmed you.

he cooed into your ear, whispering reassurances and sweet things until you finally relaxed in his arms, letting a few quiet tears slip down your cheek. you buried your face further into your robes to hide them. if sirius felt anything, he didn’t acknowledge it.

once lily had made it up the castle stairs and threatened to hex james, the boy backed down and came jogging back to his friends. the crowd of students who’d been enthused onlookers just a few moments ago didn’t spare any of you a second glance, not caring about your wellbeing as much as they did their entertainment.

as he rounded the hill, he saw you tucked tightly against sirius’ body, whose lips were brushing over your ears in an almost loving manner. a non-platonic loving, that is. his stomach twisted. he wasn’t normally affected by lily’s rejections or snape’s dramatics, but the combined stress of the exam must’ve made him nauseous.

his eyes flickered between his friends, spread out in various locations around the beech tree. he silently asked them what had happened with a raise of his eyebrows, but peter only shrugged and lupin shook his head. when sirius caught on, he merely glared at james in the same way lily and snape had just a couple moments ago.

you didn’t even raise your head to acknowledge his presence; if anything, you burrowed yourself further into sirius’ embrace with a quiet sniffle. sirius pressed a comforting kiss to your forehead before beginning to rocking you back and forth placatingly.

james’ hands were clenched into fists. his knuckles, which had been red from the cold breeze, had turned white. his hands, which had been steady when he pointed his wand to snape, were now trembling.

“y’alright, prongs? looks like you’re gonna punch something,” remus asked, already knowing the answer.

“y-yeah. i’m fine. just, angry at snape. for… upsetting evans, that is.” lily evans could not care less about james. even as she mourned the betrayal and loss of her friend, she’d rather be alone than allow herself to be comforted by james. if he were being honest, it stung. it hurt quite a bit.

evans. you cursed. it’s always about evans. lily fucking evans. you had tried to like her, you really had. but sirius was right. you did hate her, and it wasn’t just because she was prissy and self-absorbed. it was also because you were madly in love with james, and always had been.

you tilted your head up, leaving the safety of sirius’ chest to meet his eye. your faces were close; his breath tickled your nose and you laughed breathlessly.

the look in your eyes told sirius everything he needed to know. you were in love with james potter. you were in love with james potter. it was freeing and excruciating to admit to yourself.

james cleared his throat awkwardly, and you untangled yourself from sirius, embarrassed at the unplanned moment of intimacy. both of you knew it was platonic; both of you were aware of the subject of the other person’s affection. james was an airhead. james knew none of that.

“s-so, you and sirius, huh?” he laughed shrilly, and remus looked at his oblivious friend disdainfully. even peter squinted his eyes at james in disbelief.

you stared at james, appalled, but were only able to keep a straight face for so long before catching sirius’ eyes and bursting into racocious, howling laughter.

“us? oh god, please, never-” you screeched.

“for the love of merlin- i’d rather hug my mother!” sirius cackled.

“pads is like, my annoying cousin at a family reunion.”

“nah, you’re like my bratty younger sister.”

you looked at sirius with faux offense. “younger? i’m obviously the more experienced, favorite oldest child.”

peter snorted when he saw james’ horrified-jealous face morph into a horrified-bewildered expression. james pulled his glasses from his face and wiped them haphazardly on the hem of his shirt before putting them back on, like it would help him understand more clearly.

“what are you on, prongs? has evans finally gotten to you? have you actually turned into a brainless toerag?” sirius probed, eyes flashing not only to see what james’ reaction to lily’s showdown was, but also to gauge if he reciprocated your feelings.

“i’ve always been a bit brainless, haven’t i?” james muttered to himself as he sat on the grass in a dazed state. “i’ve got to get my eyes checked again. i’m fucking blind. oh my god, i’m such a fool,” he blabbed like he was reciting a mantra.

“you are definitely blind,” remus agreed.

“and we’ve all known you’re a fool,” sirius chimed.

you stayed silent, curling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around yourself like a protective bubble. you wished you knew how to apparate—not that it’d matter, because it wouldn’t have worked on hogwarts grounds anyway—so that you could escape whatever this was. you didn’t think you could handle another one of james’ pity parties, which he threw every time he fucked up in front of lily. lily, lily, lily.

you looked up at the leaves of the beech tree, which rustled back to you, almost like a voice saying, “you lonely sucker. your schoolgirl crush isn’t cute anymore, it’s just sad.” fuck the beech tree leaves, and fuck the breeze that was making them shake. making you shake.

a soft, wooly jumper fell atop your head, covering your eyes. you waved your hands around, trying to capture the culprit. pulling the thick knit from your head, you saw james standing sheepishly behind you with a thin tee shirt. he’d taken off his lovely blue jumper for you.

“thank you, jamie,” you croaked, voice betraying you of the emotions you were trying so desperately to hide. you chastised yourself for your poor acting.

“it’s no problem,” james said, crouching and bouncing on his haunces to reach your level, where he pulled you closer to his body with an arm around your shoulder.

“won’t you be cold?” you held your hand up to his cheek, which was beginning to turn pink. “you’re all rosy.”

james gulped. “uh, i’m not cold. i just… that’s just how my skin is, i guess. what’s it called, rosacea?”

in his peripheral, james saw remus muttering a big “yeah right,” to sirius.

“i’m being dumb.” james lifted your chin with two of his fingers pressed against the front of your jawline. “i haven’t even asked if you’re okay. i was the one who started it, but you were the one who got hurt. i’m sorry.”

you smiled sadly at james, knowing you could never be upset with him. he could be in love with somebody else and crush your heart into dust, and you still couldn’t be upset with him.

“‘m alright, thanks,” you lied.

james frowned; he was always able to see right through you. “you don’t have to lie to me, pretty girl. don’t… feel bad. if you’re mad at me, that’s okay. i kind of deserve it.”

you huffed, feeling your heart tug at itself again. moving your head from james’ grasp and fixing your gaze to a patch of yellowing grass, you grumbled. “don’t call me that.”

“what? pretty girl? it’s true, innit?” you could hear the teasing in his voice that he was using to try and cover up his worry.

“‘s not true. not really. not like that.” you sucked air through your teeth, frustrated at how oblivious you’d been, and how oblivious james was being, and how much more intuitive the rest of your friends had been the whole time.

“what d’you mean, not true? love, don’t tell me you think-”

“stop, jamie, just stop,” you hissed, leaping to your feet and scrambling away from him like he was some type of poisonous viper. “you aren’t allowed to call me those things, not when it’s meant for evans. you don’t get to use me as some sort of replacement just because she won’t have you. it’s cruel, jamie, to pretend i’m her—haven’t you ever thought about what that’s like for me? you’re killing me, ‘cause now i’m truly deluded into thinking you’d actually see me that way when in reality, you’re just picturing lily’s face on mine.” you took a withering, shaky breath. “fuck, james, that’s selfish. that’s just mean.”

james’ face had contorted into one sputtering disaster as he tried to piece together the words that had just spouted out of your mouth, which admittedly, were not very eloquent seeing as you hadn’t been planning on pouring your heart out today.

remus groaned in exasperation, sick of his dumb, emotionally incompetent friends.

“please don’t pull an evans and walk away from me,” james pleaded, looking back at his friends for backup. they looked back at him, unimpressed.

“well? d’you have something to say or not, or may i be excused?” you clenched your jaw, sneering at the boy you loved as if you didn’t.

james hesitated, but he must’ve taken too long, because you scoffed and turned away from him, hair blowing wildly in the wind. you were still wearing his jumper. you tugged at the sleeves, annoyed at how his presence seemed to follow you wherever you went, but rather than anger, little tears beaded at your eyes.

you wiped them away with your sleeve, furious at yourself. you could hear james behind you, begging you to slow down, but you didn’t. it was pointless; he would’ve caught up regardless, with those long legs of his.

“please, wait, just-” james panted, bent over with his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. you raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“whatever you’re about to say, save it, unless it’s a grandiose apology that ends in you groveling at my feet,” you sniffed.

james dropped to his knees. “okay, okay, i can do groveling. please, as long as you hear me out, ‘cos i was wrong earlier, when we were sitting at the tree. i said you weren’t smarter than me, but godric, you are leagues beyond me, and the fact that i thought the opposite is a testament to my stupidity, i suppose…”

“are you here to be self-deprecating, or…?”

he covered his face with his hands. “no, i’m sorry. shit, okay. i’m a bit everywhere- uh, frazzled, at the moment.”

you frowned. it was a bit awkward to be towering over james as he was practically kissing your feet; despite how angry you were with him, you hated being the source of his humiliation and negative emotions.

you sat on the grass silently, shifting so you were beside him but at a reasonable distance, not looking in his direction or acknowledging him when he picked up his head and looked at you hopefully.

“look, i’ve been blind. literally and, uh, metaphorically. i’m like that, y’know? well, yeah, y’do know; you’re my best friend.” the both of you winced when he said that.

“see, but the thing is… i realize that we’re probably not really best friends. at least, i’m hoping we’re not. ‘cos i think i’d like for you not to be my best friend, but my- my best girl. ‘cos i think i’m in love with you.”

you finally turned to james, bottom lip tucked between your teeth unsurely. you squeezed your eyes shut. “what’s my name?”

“what?”

“what’s my name?” you insisted, a sinking feeling growing in your gut.

but it was like the weight of the day lifted off your shoulders, until you felt so lightweight you thought you might float away, when your name dripped from his lips like the golden wildflower honey his mom nurtured in his backyard.

“not lily evans?” you questioned, pushing the corners of your lips down to suppress the stupid smile that threatened to ruin your entire angry act.

“not evans, i swear.” james chuckled bitterly. “think i’ve said her name enough times to meet a yearly quota. i don’t want to say her name, i wanna say yours,” he mused, daring to chase your eyes for a connection.

“why’d you run after her, then?” you muttered, wanting more than anything to believe him, but held back by all the heartbreak that he’d inflicted.

“the other option was to hold you and kiss your forehead, maybe. perhaps your nose. whatever would make you smile. but then what would you think? you’d think i loved you, and maybe you’d be scared away, and i’d rather chase evans for the sake of continuity than lose you or your friendship.”

“when?” you whispered, allowing him to take your hand in his without complaint. “when’d you realize? ‘cause i’ve been in love with you since third year, and you’ve been after evans since second.”

“fourth year, actually.” james let out a heavy huff. “probably earlier, to be honest. we both know i’m not great with feelings ‘n stuff. but i guess i could only admit it to myself after i saw you threw your coffee at malfoy when he made that comment about some first year.”

“i don’t even remember that,” you admitted, a grin slipping out.

“yeah, well i do. after that, you told him off in front of all the slytherins and i swear avery was trembling. ‘n after, you talked to that first year so sweetly, and all i could think was ‘i wish she’d care about me that much.’” when james came out of his memory and saw you smiling, his face brightened as well.

“look, there’s my favorite smile!” he cupped your cheek in one hand, running the calloused pad of his thumb over your pulled-up lips with admiration. “you’re so beautiful, y’know that?”

“i know,” you giggled. “you only tell me every other day.”

“well, that’s just criminal! i ‘oughta tell you that every day.” james gasped exaggeratedly. his voice lowered to a low, gravelly purr. “wouldn’t want ‘ya to forget, now would we?”

“what’s my name, jamie?”

he laughed quietly, mumbling your name and emphasizing each with a kiss on the cheek. “did i get the answer right?”

you hummed happily. “so you can have a reward.” your voice was small but james felt it travel through his body, the kind of reaction only you could draw from him. “you can kiss me, if you’d like.”

james held back a massive grin, knowing it’d be impossible to properly kiss you if he was all smiley. he held your shoulders so gently it might as well have been a caress, and when he licked his lips and let his eyes puddle into a sea of adoration, you knew that he’d take you up on your offer.

not before he tackled you to the ground though. pushing you backward with a surprised squeak, your back hit the grass as james propped himself up with his forearms on either side of your head. and then he kissed you; he kissed you hard. it was rough and fast and full of longing. james tasted like cinnamon gum and pumpkin juice.

you broke away from him, maintaining the connection by pressing your forehead to his, and your lips were still brushing together as you finally, finally admitted it out loud. “i love you, james potter.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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taglist:

@yourallihave @bambamwolf87 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @cowboibeepbeep

#james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter mutual pining #james potter x reader fluff #james potter x reader angst #james potter x you fluff #james potter x you angst #james potter friends to lovers #james potter angst with happy ending

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twelvegrimmyplace · 6 months

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Nick Grimshaw on kindness, queerness and life lessons as a grown-up.

Gay Times Honours Issue 2023

Friendly media mogul Nick Grimshaw, aka Grimmy, has done it all. He’s introduced his parents to Lady Gaga and, recently, even had tea with Harry Styles. Now, however, the former Radio 1 DJ is getting acquainted with something else – growing up.

Getting older, no doubt, is terrifying. Carefree late nights with mates at sticky, flooded gigs are suddenly swapped for questions revolving around major milestones: partners, career, and, of course, kids. Close friends are no longer egging you on to ditch work and hangout or checking in to see if you’ve actually drank water. Instead, you’re trying to squeeze in a meetup between deadlines, dates and an ever-growing to-do list of life admin. And Grimmy is no different. Booze-driven afterparties have morphed into nourishing Sunday roast dinners with Mesh, his fiancé. Girl dinner Quaver packets have matured to conversations – on his glitzy new foodie podcast Dish co-hosted by Michelin-star chef Angela Hartnett – with Miriam Margolyes on how she likes her mashed potatoes.

Having the big four-zero on the radar prompted a new perspective for the presenter. What was once maligned (“I felt like growing older was the end of something or deeply depressing,” Grimshaw admits) has been, mostly, embraced. It’s less coming of age but, rather, coming to age. Still, new digits doesn’t need to mean the fun is over. In fact, just last night, Grimshaw partied late with celebs Jake Shears, Amanda Lepore, Jodie Harsh, and Mutya Buena in Soho. Here in Holborn, however, things are much more mild. Sure, there’s some tasteful framed nude art to our right and Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ crackling over studio speakers but nothing beats a good old-fashioned launch party, or a karaoke b-day bash taking place later this evening in central London.

Nursing a non-alcoholic beer, Grimshaw scoots across a black leather couch, arriving fresh from a photoshoot, something he describes as his “Naomi Campbell moment”. Comfortably clothed in a light-wash denim shirt and distressed jeans, he kicks off the conversation as if reuniting with an old friend. “I've never taken stock before. I'd never sat down and thought about myself, ever, and I don't think people do,” he says. Since his early twenties, Grimshaw’s image has been inextricably tied to two things: big names and his infamous towering quiff haircut. At some point, he acknowledges, you will have heard his quick-fire Mancunian comedy soundtracking your early mornings. Whether he was making jokes with Taylor Swift or having the early hours crashed by Charli XCX, the presenter became a known face at the Beeb. In his autobiographical book, Soft Lad, Grimshaw reminisces on the pull the small screen had on him as a young child. Armed with a love for glamour and theatrics, the events he saw on the telly called to a younger Grimshaw who dreamed of moving out of Manchester to take on London.

Onboarding, in 2012, at Radio 1 to cover The Breakfast Show was something the podcaster remembers clearly; “There was a lot of pressure”. His days of spinning songs and connecting with artists over music became more than a vocation, but a specialism. While he does admit, sheepishly, that there were days his hangover ran over into work hours, he’s since taken time to reassess his habits and lifestyle. “When I was 23 I was getting absolutely wasted and doing it like a Geordie Shore night out,” he says. Now, Grimshaw is more conscious of being selectively sober in certain environments. “It can be really hard to go out and connect with people who are drunk and you're not drinking. But, sometimes, you have the best nights ever. I went out last night and went to a really fun party up until 1.30 am and had really good chats with loads of people.” He’s taking stock of the bigger moments around him, particularly ones that bring him closer to friends and family – “It's about learning. It's about growth,” he says earnestly.

At 39, Grimshaw’s longevity has something to do with his candour and bonhomie. The most common compliment doled out about the presenter is his warmth. As a child, he recalls, the label “soft lad” was stuck to him, presenting his sensitivity as something to be ashamed of. But, years later, it’s become something – like his favourite Maison Margiela knit sweaters – that he wears openly. “At school, I always felt on edge that I was going to get beaten up or laughed at. When you've had that, you learn empathy and you think about how people might feel or what they're going through,” he explains.

Realisng he was gay, as a child, filled Grimshaw with dread as he feared what it would mean. With limited queer culture references growing up (just Elton John and Lily Savage) his feelings were fully realised, aged 11, when he developed a crush on a poster of England footballer David Beckham pinned up on his bedroom wall. “You know what’s funny, not that I’m doing Miriam Margolyes press, but I saw her yesterday. I'd never met her and I went into her dressing room. Before I could say hello, she pointed and exclaimed: ‘You’re gay!’ and continued with ‘So, my dear, nice to meet you.’ As I got into bed last night, I thought about how that would’ve killed me if I was a teenager, but it was a really lovely bonding moment.”

Though being a presenter and DJ took up most of Grimshaw’s early adolescent years, his move to writing has allowed him the space to trawl through his past years without expectation. From reassessing his comfort with queerness to realising the strength found in the LGBTQIA+ community outside of his town in Greater Manchester, Grimshaw is grateful for the relationships he’s built with those around him. “I learn constantly from the queer community. It’s that notion of being yourself and leaning into yourself which can be hard to do if you're queer, especially if you've had that knocked out of you when you're a kid,” he says. “The community are essential in helping everyone, and me, support one another.”

Soft Lad and Dish capture different versions of Grimshaw; the quirky characteristics of a presenter that couldn’t surface in a music hotbed. In his new roles, the presenter-meets-podcaster chats to hot-shot talent while unravelling stories centred around food, famous friends and frenzied stories. His book is an homage to his parents (“I realised how important they were shaping me – I love them contractually, but also really love them) and to his English and Irish roots. Bookended between stories of queer curiosity and his loathing for football, tales of community and camaraderie at Radio 1 surface. “I loved it when we had a great guest from the queer community. I had great times with Sam Smith, they would be a riot and would really gossip with us when the records were on and tell us stories that we couldn't have on the radio. Troye Sivan was a great time as well,” he recalls.

Another memorable moment was his run-in with an early-era Lady Gaga, in Notting Hill, before she became Mother Monster as we now know her. “I did my first interview with Gaga years ago, for the telly, and it was when she was brand new. ‘Just Dance’ had just come out in America and she was making a bra out of gaffer tape on a dressing room floor,” he says, laughing. “I brought mum and dad along because they were in town so they met her right at the beginning of her career. Ever since then, whenever she'd come onto the radio show, she’d ask about my mum and dad.”

Grimshaw’s stories of famous crossovers are, understandably, endless – even if they’re ones he’s told plenty of times before. Up until recently, he’s remained embroiled in an ecosystem of music promoting a “product” but, now, he feels like his new projects allow for authentic conversations about people and their interests. His mantra, nowadays, is this: “Living in the full, truest form of yourself, without fear and judgement.” For a young Grimshaw, this unbridled queer joy took the form of “glamorous” drag shows where he dressed up as Cher for his family. Today, it’s about cooking in a kitchen packed with too many guests (and remembering to drink water). Turning 40, at one point, felt like a frightening due date. Now it’s a milestone Grimshaw is ready to take on.

#nick grimshaw #press #gay times honours 2023

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thebrawlerina · 24 days

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HC REQUESTS YOU SAY???? any friendship headcannons for bea???

- @starrr-cringee

Yay, my first ask!

Here's my friendship headcannons for Bea!

GENERAL

Bea isn't the most extroverted or outgoing person, but she's never struggled with making friends. Shes got pretty positive relations with almost everyone, barring a few haters.

Making puns is an excellent way in piquing her interest. She likes having pun-offs with her friends. She doesn't always win, but she doesn't mind as long as she has fun!

Bea doesn't like being patronized, so brawlers who do that are a little lower on her like list. There doesn't seem to be a hate list yet.

BRAWLER SPECIFIC

Max was Bea's first friend in the park, having joined it together. Bea sometimes finds Max's energy exhausting, and Max doesn't get all her babble about bugs and stuff, and they both have terribly busy schedules, but they always try to say hi and catch up whenever they get the chance.

This friendship with Max is why she got tapped to act as a villain for the 'Max Force' series (In my headcannons, skin collections are like special stories and events made to drive up more hype and business for the Park and its properties.)

Bea was actually pretty intimidated by Rosa when they first met. Rosa was her superior in both the Biodome, the brawling scene, and just in everything physical. But once she discovered Rosa's silly and nerdy side, they immediately became close.

It really wasn't a surprise to anyone (except maybe the two of them) that they ended up as a couple.

She didn't think she'd get attached to Sprout so much when she and Rosa made it, but now they think of it as their son. It even calls them mother sometimes.

Bea adores Spike a lot. She's always happy when he comes around looking for Sprout and just finds him to be a nice lad.

Bea is less enthused about 8-BIT and Tick. They're both fine robots , but sometimes she can't help but worry that 8-BIT's temper and Tick's chaotic energy will rub off on Sprout. she really is a mother.

She likes Carl. Even though she knows very little about Geology, she doesn't mind sitting down and listening to him ramble about all the kinds of rocks before having a little punning contest.

Bea and Piper have a nice little trade deal going on where she supplies Piper with honey her bees make, and Piper gives her some of her baked goods. There is more to their friendship than just that, but sweets just make the world go round.

Speaking of honey, she has a deal with Nita to keep giving her honey so she and Leon don't break into the Biodome and mess their research up. This worked pretty well, though its been less effective since the Candyland area opened up.

Bea empathizes with Meg in being underestimated for their diminutive statures and in having more popular co-workers. She likes to cheer Meg up and remind Max to keep her younger teammate in mind. (Meg is a teen genius in my headcannons. But I'm not yet sure exactly how old she is yet)

Chester is one of the few people she doesn't like very much because he tried to pull a prank and nearly broke something in the dome.

Eve and Bea have a tentatively okay relationship. Eve is not over Bea capturing her in a jar (even though she apologized for it) and she will never let Bea near her babies. They can still work together for Brawls, though and Eve doesn't mind being around her in the safety of her own ship.

Bea and Angelo have a weird friendship. Originally, Bea just wanted to learn why and how Angelo turned into a mosquito, when Angelo suddenly started venting and gossiping with her. Shes not one for gossip, but it seems to make them happy and they sometimes tell her what its like to be a mosquito.

Because of her relationship with Angelo, Willow seems to be cool with her too.

#brawl stars #brawl stars hc #brawl stars headcanons #brawl stars bea #i feel like i have more but i cant remember them cause its late #this is kinda long already though sooo #if i can remember any important ones in the morning ill add them in a reblog

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breitzbachbea · 5 months

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@fvriva Copying this out so I can do more stuff -

But yes! One of Charlie's many exes, only two of whom have ever received a name, is a guy called JJ! His full name is Jacob Johnson and I once posted some old pictures I had of him here .

They used to date when Charlie was pretty young and just out of school and were part of a bigger gaggle of gay guys. Guys who were just experimenting and finding themselves ... and who thought it'd be funny as fuck and their good right to fancy Charlie's father substitute Paddy. Charlie didn't find that shit funny at all, but kids can be so cruel. (I also bet like some were like "Ohhh, he's from the North and he's kinda badass, do you think he's an ex-Provo?" because these boys are pulling a Michelle from Derry Girls. And saying "He's a Prod from Derry" has zero effect, because then it's "Oh my god, that means he doesn't got all that repression! I bet he's a real Casanova!" at which point Charlie was ready to either eat the Abrakebabra tray himself or shove it down someone else's throat.)

However, Charlie's boyfriend JJ never participated in that tomfoolery. Because he was a clever young man, who knew if he kept it to himself, he could date Charlie, partially to get closer to that hunk of man. Enjoyed it very much whenever he was with Charlie and Co. and Paddy was around.

However, JJ overall didn't feel like Ireland was a great place to live and wanted more opportunities, so like many young Irishman, he went away to America. And before he left, he did the kind thing of breaking up with Charlie ... and also the not so kind thing of telling him the truth in regards to Paddy. Rough breakup.

JJ gets to America, things don't really turn out as they are ought to be and America has more or less just the same problems he wanted to escape, be it in a different costume. Poor JJ falls in with the Mob to get by and after seven or eight years, he is like "Hey. I am not gonna snitch on you, I am not gonna cause trouble, but I just wanna go home. Could you arrange something for me?"

And his boss, a young man called Alfred Jones, is like "Hmm, sure! I think I know someone you could work for, someone to keep eyes on you and who takes care for you in Dublin! Harry O'Connel's the name!"

And JJ does think. Hey, that's the name of Charlie's childhood friend. Even the surname is spelled that weird way ... But he shrugs it off, because maybe someone just left an L off the end and there have to be plenty of Harry O'Connell's in Ireland.

And Harry thinks the same when Al talks to him about an Irish guy called Jacob Johnson, like yeah yeah sure. Fork found in kitchen situation.

And then JJ arrives back in Dublin, goes to the office after some preliminary meetings with other subordinates or so, walks into Harry's office ... and Harry's face is not one that you forget. Not much has changed since puberty is through. And thusly Harry also learns that he has hired Charlie's ex as a new subordinate.

So poor JJ, comes home from his failed American Dream, learns that his ex's childhood friend is a mobster and THEN learns that the same holds true for said ex and has always been the case for the middle-aged guy he fancied.

JJ has learnt a lot about himself since he went away, especially about his priorities in life, so he now also realizes that Paddy was just some embarassing Teenage infatuation and nothing genuine at all. Not to mention that he may have a soft spot for Charlie still, but no old spark that is still alive. Charlie does make a bit of an ass of himself for wishing it was the case and being thoroughly disappointed when he gets mercilessly roasted by JJ and not even a little bit fancied. Sir, you are getting steady now, you don't NEED your ex-boyfriend for approval.

That's Jacob Johnson! Poor lad, deserved better :/

#another one from the friend group is Shane Gray who later came out as bi and has a girlfriend these days #his ma is called Daisy and had a fling with Paddy when he was a young rake always looking for the ride. Broke her bed!#She still teased him for it a decade later and they did have another fling while Shane also fancied him. Oh well!#also Charlie's other named Ex also has an America connection. Two nickels!#beablabbers #storie nostre #charlie #jj #harry #paddy #al #also by the time Charlie had that friendgroup he DID know that Paddy was a mobster ...#and he wouldn't have told them anyways bc that is between him and harry but fucking damn wouldn't it have not deterred them #if anything. if the prospects of an ex-rebel already gave them the horn then mobster is on the cards as well #i bet there were some fuckers in here where he could have been a goddamn Loyalist and they would have found it hot #chesca

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winterchimez · 1 year

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Beast in the Beauty - Chapter 1

pairing: profiler Hyunjae x detective f!reader

genre & warnings: jack the ripper au, angst, violence, thriller, crime, mentions of prostitution, graphic description of death, major characters death, alcohol, some fluff

word count: 1,638

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“Hey! We need a coffee break!”

Eric, your best friend and partner for life (according to the man himself) dumps a whooping pile of files and documents onto your table. He puts on his signature whiny and pouty lips, then proceeds to cup his face with both of his palms while bending down onto your desk.

“Now in what trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, Sohn Youngjae.” You heartlessly replied to the young man with his full name while typing away on your typewriter, not even sparing him a glance.

“How can you say that bestie when you’re well aware how Chief Ayden has been going on and on about me missing multiple deadlines. Thanks to him I have been pulling an all nighter for 5 days straight now. Even worse, he might extend that for another week or two.” Eric shuddered at the thought of it.

This time you stopped what you were doing and looked straight into the young lad’s eyes. “Well Mr Sohn. It’s partially your fault for ditching your job and missing deadlines while you went partying with the juniors at the local pub.”

“Hey, someone has to give the juniors a warm welcome no? Just like how you and I started off back in the good old days.”

“Well then, I’m sorry to say that karma gets back to you when it does. So suck it up and do your job.”

Right when Eric was about to put on this cutesy big doe eyes in hopes of changing you mind, you shut the young lad down with a stern look straight to his eyes, already knowing whatever trick he was about to pull. “Nope, I’m not helping you this time.”

Eric continues to beg and even starts bribing you with coffee and ice-cream dates, knowing damn well how you were a sucker for cafes. You chuckled internally as you knew how much of a troublemaker he was, always getting into trouble and getting his ass whooped by the Chief multiple times a month. You’re surprised he hasn’t lost his job just yet.

But you’re well aware that he puts his whole passion and heart into his job. And all of your co-workers and even the Chief himself knows that.

Despite his looks, he was one of the best detectives your unit has ever had for the past decade. He may be one of the youngest, even younger than you are, but he excels at what he does all the time.

Due to his outgoing personality, he was able to fit right into the team in no time and everyone truly enjoys his presence in the office really.

He was the first person whom you’ve made friends with (or rather he was the one who approached you firsthand) when you started your career. You were shy and terrified at the beginning, which is to be expected working in an environment filled with your opposite sex. But somehow Eric managed to break off the ice from the get-go and made you felt at home.

The young lad, who was a year younger than you were, always treated you to the best cafe dates whenever you needed a pick-me-up because heck, this job can be draining at times.

In no time, you both hit off as good friends, and always had each other’s backs. Along the way, you somehow begin treating him like a lost long younger brother that you’ve always wished you had.

All of a sudden, Eric’s whines were then cut off by a deep voice coming from right behind him.

“Get your ass up Eric, we've got work to do.”

Standing right behind your whiny friend was Ju Haknyeon, the only detective that is the same age as you were. You two immediately hit off right away in the beginning when you both first met, all thanks to his social butterfly persona.

Like Eric, he is a well-respected senior in the office, and he works directly under Chief Ayden. Hence, everyone counts on him to receive the latest news on cases to work on, or sometimes some hilarious or even embarrassing TMI’s about Chief Ayden which was what everyone in the office is most excited to hear about.

But looking at Haknyeon’s expression today, you knew that he wasn’t here for fun and games.

“It’s about what happened last night, isn’t it?” You questioned.

“Bingo.” Haknyeon then drops a thick pile of documents and the infamous red folder onto your desk.

You and Eric both knew what was in store for you both. It wasn’t just any red folder, it was the folder that contained all of the details in regards to the infamous case that haunted Whitechapel 20 years ago.

“Jack The Ripper.” Eric murmured.

“Exactly. A body was found at George Yard street last night around 2 hours past midnight. The M.O. was exactly the same as how the perpetrator did so 20 years ago. There’s no doubt that there is a connection there.” Haknyeon sighed heavily as he stroked his furrowed brows.

“So what are we gonna do now? Are we supposed to assist you in this case?” You asked the troubled young man, knowing damn well that he is definitely gonna take on this case as he works directly under Chief Ayden.

“Not just that. Chief Ayden has instructed that we are to open up a squad to resolve this so-called Jack The Ripper 2.0 case, and the both of you will be joining the team. No questions asked.”

You and Eric walked into Chief Ayden’s office while noticing the tension in the air. You knew how the case had deeply affected Whitechapel, and the police station you worked at was no exception. But all of you were fully aware how it has affected Chief Ayden the most.

He was part of the original cold case squad 20 years ago, and he has seen many of his subordinates leave the force for good due to the public pressure that they have faced for being unable to put the criminal behind bars. Some on the other hand went losing their minds as they were never able to fully recover from this case.

This was a big deal. To have Whitechapel experience this terror once again was worse than having a terrible nightmare. Neither of you want to experience the devil himself in this day and age, having to play cat and mouse with the killer.

This has to end. And you sure are determined to be able to finally catch the killer this time, finally putting an end to these chapters of horror and bringing justice to the victims from 20 years prior and from last night.

“I’m sure detective Haknyeon has already spilled the beans on the reason both of you are being called here so let me get straight to the point. I don’t care how many all-nighters all of us are gonna pull, if there’s ever a slightest chance of evidence or clue that gets us quicker to putting the culprit behind bars then get the hell onto it quick. Put your lives on the line for this case, and I mean it for real this time. Because I sure damn well will be doing so.”

The 3 of you immediately responded and acknowledged Chief Ayden’s instructions and all of you were ready for the next step of the job.

“Since this is a big case, and heck we’re reopening an infamous cold case from decades ago that taunted the entire nation, I have specifically asked for back-up from the headquarters. Which means we’re doing real business this time and I'm in no way in any mood to be playing games.”

You were stunned. From the headquarters? Your unit has hardly ever had backup from the superiors from Scotland Yard as they barely communicate and take notice of your unit in such a feared district due to the living conditions of the people here.

There have been multiple times where Chief Ayden has requested assistance from them, but many times your unit was left to their problems and all of you had to solve dozens of cold cases all on your own while dealing with the issues of having a high number of staff turnovers during the past few years.

However, since it was the Jack The Ripper murders you figured that the headquarters had to at least have a part in this, otherwise they would be dealing with the heavy criticism and fire from the public if such a small unit like yours was left to their own accord.

At that moment, a knock was heard from the other side of the Chief’s office door, and he gave the consent for the individual to step into the office.

A tall light brunette male, looking around to be 180cm tall, walks into the office.

He wore the classic white long sleeved shirt that was obviously a tad bit small for him, which made it look tight and the fabric was seemingly hugging onto his well-built body. On top of his shirt sits a shoulder holster, where the individual himself stored his weapons. The detective himself was also wearing a black glove on his right hand.

His facial features? Oh god. You were left stunned. He had deep dark brown eyes that just captivates whoever that dares to look into them.

Also the fact that his hair was parted down to the sides right in the middle? You couldn’t help but to be in awe as you stood there taking in the sight in front of you.

He was breathtakingly beautiful.

The individual then wasted no time in introducing himself to the team.

“My name is Lee Jaehyun, but I go by the name Hyunjae. It’s a pleasure to be working with you all.”

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noa5339 · 10 months

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ok as a hardcore enby marlene stan i’ve had some ideas:

marlene still considers themselves a lesbian and is comfortable with the terms wlw and sapphic along with nblw

they still consider themselves as “one of the girls” in the way that they’ll partake in girls night and is fine with being like referred to collectively with the valkyries as “the girls”

despite this they are also “one of the boys” and is invited to the marauders “secret lads trips” (they get drunk and trauma dump but forget it all when they’re sober) and will always out drink everyone other than remus

they’re nonbinary in the way that they dont feel any pull towards gender. like they just feel like marlene, not like a boy or a girl or anything really and uses nonbinary to describe their gender as something that’s there but not really there

they refuse to cut their hair off. they would prefer to spend eternity being misgendered than have a shit pixie cut and take their eyeliner and red lipstick off

james was the first person they came out to as a lesbian: the pair had dated gif 2 weeks and just had there first kiss when they were like “nope i like girls”

pete was the first person they came out as nonbinary to cos he walked in on her crying in the common room one night.

#dead gay wizards #marauders #marlene mckinnon #nonbinary marlene mckinnon #trans marlene mckinnon #the valkyries #gryffindor girls

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jenkinsknope · 1 year

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Time for the annual year post lads

I am so glad 2022 is over. Going no contact with my mum is one of the most painful things I’ve ever gone through. I frantically had to find somewhere new to live after my landlord decided he wanted me out (presumably because I refused to pay more rent during my fixed term) and the communication from his office was confusing and appalling. I spent a lot of last year with a tense body and just about surviving. I really, really hope that 2023 is kind to me.

But, as always, this is about pulling out the good things that happened.

1. I adopted a cat! I picked her up two days after my birthday and she is asleep in my lap as I’m writing this. She is so affectionate. She comes to meet me at the door whenever I return. Her walking towards me with a crooked tail and slow blinking is maybe my favourite thing in the world.

2. I feel a lot more confident in my abilities at work and I feel more comfortable giving my opinions. I was elected co-chair of the LGBT staff network and I like being in a leadership role. I’m good at it, because I’m organised and I’m responsive when people need me.

3. I went on a bikepacking weekend for people of colour. It was my first time cycling off road and I definitely underestimated how challenging it would be, but it was also so much fun. We got to ride on top of a cliff with the sea below.

4. I cycled from London to Brighton and raised nearly £500 for the National Association of People Abused in Childhood. The scenery was beautiful and I actually really enjoyed the ride.

5. I went to Butch Please a bunch and helped host meet ups for people who needed a group to go with. I met and had some great conversations with queer people a couple of decades older than me.

6. I took on more responsibility in the mutual aid group I volunteer with and had relationships transition from acquaintance level to friend level.

7. I made new friends through my cycling club including with someone who actively pursued being my friend! One of my fave evenings was a different friend’s birthday at the velodrome they work at. We did silly games around the track, hung out on the steps as the sun was setting and cycled under the moon. I spent a lot of time at the velodrome either getting my ass kicked at track or helping out with races and it was always fun. It’s nice to have a place that feels like a second home in a way.

8. I was more vulnerable including disclosing some things about my childhood with a person I was dating. While that relationship didn’t work out, I’m proud of myself for trusting someone and turning away from shame.

9. I completed a counselling skills course which affirmed that I do want to be a therapist and I’ve been able to use some of the skills in conversations with friends.

10. I saw Self Esteem and MUNA live and had a lovely and meaningful time at their gigs.

#personal #year reflection

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ocoree · 2 years

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A midge over a day almost exactly a week ago I was perusing the local pet store getting cat litter, and as part of my usual ritualistic circuit browsing from the bird section around back past cat, through dog, and ending at small critter, I detoured by the betta wall in the middle. Had been thinking about them for a while, as my office wants to see a tank set up again, and I happened to have a spare 20 gallon long tank floating around gathering dust. Last pass through I saw a gorgeous black and white betta, and wondered if there were other gems this round. Sure, some pretty ones, nothing that really stood out to me though (was kinda leaning to a platinum or opal betta to make a darkwater tank, bonus if they were a sturdy king plakat with no frilly fins to worry about being chewed on by tank mates). My eyes drifted over to spot a section of 'Glow Bettas', and felt my lip curl in disgust after seeing the ones that came through the doors at my prior pet-store job in a rival store - and now noticing there were yet new colors forced upon them. Leaning down to inspect them better, I happened to notice a sad little slip of silver in a dirty cup next to them. I didn't know what alien bettas were - and seeing the few active ones on another section I couldn't parse out what made them distinct from the rest with their muddy green shine. This one felt different for me, and when I held him up to the light I saw a blue and purple sheen over him, and he was a little disgruntled that I disturbed him from his curled up position. "Huh, that's different." I thought, and toyed with the idea of a silver betta instead of a white one in my communal tank. His condition wasn't the best, but neither was his water situation with it being fouled and yellowed by too much food - an easy fix, and his responsiveness despite it indicated he'd bounce back with some fresh water and proper feeding. Next day I was still thinking about him, and my co-workers urged me to scoop him up if I felt confident taking him in. So I scrambled out on my lunch break and found him still in the same spot quite ignored over the showier and healthier individuals. Lad wasn't too happy about it, but soon after I got him situated in his travel tank with some spring water he started turning the most vibrant blue and moving around considerably. He was still falling to the bottom of the tank though, and laying curled on his side when he tired out, which tipped me off to him having possible swim bladder issues (think like a tummy ache from too much food for non-fishkeepers that affects their ability to stay afloat - it either makes them sink like a stone, or float like a cork which is bad for a betta that needs air if left untreated) and a game plan to help him pull through it. First night home, I dug out a little 2.5 gal tank I had intended to use for craft displays for whenever I got around to doing craft shows, and got him more properly situated with a sandy bottom and modified silk plants (plus a little anubia and a couple moss balls to start off with for my first live aquarium plants). Little dude was happy exploring between periods of resting, and looked a lot livelier even with the tank half-full -

I happened to fall sick right at the same time from a coworker coming in and sharing her bug with everyone, so the weekend gave me time to spend around his tank and keep him under observation. Watching him exploring and getting improving in his environment was a treat -

And then finally, after a tentative meal of thawed pea to make sure his system was thoroughly cleaned out, it was time to give him a proper meal of thawed bloodworms - just two, as he's a little fellow. Boy, I think I opened his eyes to what a betta should be eating. Dude couldn't get enough and started doing a very energetic Begging Dance and zoomies afterwards -

After that day any time he saw me move near his tank, or even turn my head to look his direction, he'd go into an excited fit of zooming around the front of the tank, look up to the surface, and zoom some more! I even tried to see if I could carefully walk up to the tank out of what I thought was his view, but when I peeked around the railing of the shelf he was on - little dude was staring right back at me from that corner of the tank! Today was the first day I did a water change in his tank - wasn't sure how he'd take it, but he was mostly baffled by the strange thing intruding his space, and curious about the stream of water coming into his tank. Later I found him contemplating the new water level in his home from when he started out (the blur line is where the old water level was, I just need to get in there and scrub it off) -

Sure he may always have his issue with staying afloat in the water, and may have to live out his life in this little tank because of it, but darned if I'm not gonna try to make sure he's well cared for. My eventual goal is to make his little tank fully planted like a mini world, maybe put a little cherry shrimp or two in there with him, and keep serving him food on a toothpick like the spoiled boy he is. I would have loved to try to put him in the 20 gal communal tank when it goes up, but I worry that may cause more issues for him if he can't maintain his buoyancy in any water deeper than this tank. It's clearly not dampening his style though! I'm not entirely sure what spurred me to take him in - likely a mixture of, "I can help this animal that would have otherwise been overlooked time and time again until he fell too ill to recover", disdain from having seen how this store handles their betta stock compared to the one I worked with, and.. maybe a little bit of spite... A point of principle so to speak.. A way to show that even if they're not the flashiest or most active in their little container, a little bit of careful love and awareness can make a difference for one little fish. Currently waiting on some lava rock to arrive that I ordered to start hardscaping the bigger tanks, so I'll try to post updates as his tank evolves! Any advice for setting up a planted tank would be great! I've not done much in the way of exploring that aspect of fishkeeping, so if I can hit the ground running with as much knowledge as possible the better I can make a successful setup! At the moment my plant plans are - Java Moss, duckweed, Anubia +/or hornwort + some kind of carpet plant for the bottom - not sure what though.

#Little dude who could #betta survivor #mr zoom-zoom #Little Beau

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punkscowardschampions · 1 year

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Rio & Buster Pt.1

Rio: [Okay, so, depending when your birthday falls and when this getaway has been booked for, telling you when we’re told, which is assumedly when you’re like oh I might have a party and he’s like nope, you can’t]

Rio: I’m going on a minibreak for my birthday, thought I better let you know

Buster: Yeah, flights are non-refundable so

Rio: I had to ‘ruin my own surprise’ to find out, sorry

Buster: Of course you did, don’t worry about it

Buster: like I said, I hadn’t booked anything yet

Rio: Good stuff

Buster: As long as you have a good birthday

Rio: Cheers

Rio: sure I will

Buster: See you at Christmas then

Rio: Can’t wait

Buster: Me either

Rio: It’s always good, whatever family drama is happening any given year, no one cares for at least one day

Buster: That’s the spirit, babe

Rio: You know me

Rio: any excuse to be merry

Buster: Right

Rio: [let him go girl, shh]

Buster: [that wasn’t awks at all and his OTT gift isn’t gonna feel so out of the blue or anything after how you left that, oh lads]

Rio: [the way we’re gonna have whiplash about this like what, you don’t hate me again]

Buster: [a very confusing vibe to have to walk into christmas with]

Rio: [I’m like do you say something or wait because lowkey it’s such a massive thing you’d be better to wait in person but also hello, what do I say, oh lads lol]

Buster: [thank god that there are gonna be so many people there so you can avoid each other for a bit without it being obvious until you collect yourselves/have some dutch courage]

Rio: [and people do start their merriment in the AM like savages on Christmas so by the time lunch is there and been consumed, we’re all a little cray, even the children with the sheer excitement lol]

Buster: [He is defs one of those savages because clearly dreading having to see her and also Liam knowing she’s done absolutely fuck all about this and Edam are having an adorable fam christmas moment right in front of y’all’s eyes]

Rio: [Mhmm, there isn’t weird energy at all, totally not simultaneously avoiding and staring at Liam like why and why, not to mention doing the same with Buster for different reasons, what a day, don’t really blame you for getting drunker than you normally would]

Buster: [but if he’s a dick to Liam in some way, she’ll have to say something/take him aside before everyone else is like ??! cos can you not please]

Rio: [a good place to start, at least there’s plenty of places within a pub so areas are quieter than others without it being like why are you chilling here ‘cos sometimes we all need a breather from family fun times lol, not wanting to just push you away so lowkey pulling you to the bar like let’s make you a drink rn haha it’s all fun and games, nothing to see here people]

Buster: [looking at her like excuse you when they get there because he’s the one who pulls her around places usually lol ‘What’ll it be?’ like y’all really are here for drinks but we know that’s not the case because if it was he’d have just got her one she likes without asking]

Rio: [‘please don’t’ quietly but firmly, because the last thing we need is you and Liam having any kind of fight, not even answering about the drink because not the point but we’re not going to stop you making your own]

Buster: [‘I swore I wouldn’t hit him’ like I haven’t and therefore I’ve done nothing wrong]

Rio: [‘you said you’d stay away from him, it’s not hard’ because we know they’re in their own bubble, better and worse]

Buster: [‘for you’ because we’ve noticed you hardcore avoiding that man and also us, obvs]

Rio: [shrug like yes? Like you’re really owning that decision and it doesn’t just feel necessary to the point the opposite is impossible ‘there’s so many people here’ gesturing off to the main function room where basically everyone is, as if we can just pick anyone else and have a gay old time]

Buster: [‘not enough’ because the tea is that there could never be enough people around anywhere at any time to make it easy for him to ignore her or Liam rn but soz hun you’re less important as we’re blurting this out]

Rio: [we can never just outright lie, even if it would make the concept of y’all ignoring/getting over each other so much easier, we just can’t, soz ‘I know’ looking over at said room of fam now, thinking ‘may as well have a [some festive twist on a cocktail ‘cos the only one I can think of is a snowball and that’s a lot to commit to so I won’t be specific lol]’]

Buster: [making that drink for her like the gentleman he is as though he isn’t heartbroken she didn’t spend her birthday with him]

Rio: [aren’t we all boy, aren’t we all, it was clearly a terrible trip before the being outshone fiasco ‘that must’ve been so much money…’ literally as you’re thinking about all this because you have no clue how to bring this up so may as well be accidentally]

Buster: [‘that isn’t what matters’ soz but he doesn’t care about money that’s his level of privilege]

Rio: [‘but it does mean something’ like you wouldn’t just spend a load of money on a literal holiday for anyone, boy, we’re not convinced]

Buster: [‘I meant what I said’ because he did about wanting her bday to be memorable, not making that clear but we know you’ll remember]

Rio: [‘it was me who didn’t stick to what I said’ the I’M SORRY thankfully not being shouted but you know it’s there in how we sound about it ‘I don’t know how to say thank you, though’ ‘cos the word is not enough]

Buster: [‘your birthday should be special’ calling her special and making it blatant she deserves it specifically with the amount of emphasis on the your and there’s also the unspoken no matter what/if I’m there or not and you don’t need to say sorry or thanks being all in his tone and mannerisms rn]

Rio: [‘it’s not like it’s your job to make sure it happens, shouldn’t be’ because we know it really was you doing the most there, despite this]

Buster: [‘I wasn’t going to let [whatever her bf is called whether he’s got his name right or it’s just close enough because not even trying to be shady or funny here with it you’re simply that irrelevant to us hun]’ as if her flop bf could frankly but you’re too !! about it to be cocky ‘it definitely shouldn’t be his’]

Rio: [‘it isn’t, wasn’t’ too fast but we don’t have to be nice about your trip now because you’ve shown your true colours since with all the fallout so ‘I’d have rather stayed home’ like legitimately would have rather have been with our family than what that turned out to be, and that’s not shade by comparison it’s like, at least my mum would’ve given a shit and got me nice things etc]

Buster: [‘You could’ve-’ stopping himself because he’s not so drunk he actually believes she could’ve just told him what a flop this bf was being and dropped it all and gone off with him]

Rio: [‘I’m not good at ending things’ as a fact because yeah, we should’ve but we would’ve felt too bad and this felt easier but it’s not like that did her any favours in the long run]

Buster: [‘I don’t have a problem with it’ because he is that cold bitch or so he projects, we can drop our flop sister like a stone and be unfazed, ignore the whole Chlo/James/Jay situation etc etc, saying this as if he could’ve dumped her bf for her, I lol]

Rio: [‘what’s that like?’ as a genuine question and not a slam]

Buster: [‘necessary’ it sounds like he’s dissing her and calling her a soft touch or something but that’s just how he feels with the life he’s been living]

Rio: [do a breath out like yeah, probably]

Buster: [doing his own like a little sigh ‘go and enjoy yourself, yeah?’ meaning on this ski trip because I doubt very much you have yet with all that bf drama going on]

Rio: [thinking he means right now like oh, okay ‘to the point’ like lol, I got it]

Buster: [doing a wrist grab to stop her from going as if she was gonna leave rn immediately before he can stop himself, excuse us everyone because it’s so soft but so !! ‘No, go skiing’ in such an oh you manner]

Rio: [do a little soft lol because truly not what we thought you were saying ‘right now? Can I have time to pack?’]

Buster: [shaking his head like nope leave get out, but he’s clearly as amused ‘I’ll send you [however many outfits she would need for however long this trip is, just being listed cos you know he’s thought hard about every aspect of this trip and imagined her there in every possible scenario not at all casually and we’ve gotta spell that out to her]’ as if that’s nbd and not the most daddy vibe]

Rio: [sitting down as he’s speaking and not taking your eyes off him like you are literally entranced by this story he’s telling you right now because it’s too everything you’re about ‘you’ve already sent me outfits’ as if any of those date night lewks will serve you well for a ski hol but you have to remind him so he doesn’t think you’ve forgot either]

Buster: [‘you’ve already worn them’ which sounds like outfit repeating is a crime and that’s the only reason they won’t do but likewise gotta remind her that he’s seen the pics of when she has for the absolute mood that is]

Rio: [‘I wore [one of our faves] on my birthday’ really blurting that out but we have to because the point is we were thinking about you, not whatever we were doing]

Buster: [giving her a compliment really specific to that particular outfit whether the colour brings out her eyes or it’s flattering in some other way, the point is, he’s letting her know he remembers said outfit vividly because he does every outfit she tried on and he bought that day + leaning in to say this basically in her ear so nobody else hears it so that’s an added mood]

Rio: [closing your eyes because if you look at him right now you know it’s going to be THE most ‘I’ve missed you’ because something you could say, not technically a cause for concern]

Buster: [how innocent that is not would make him die though, saying her name with so much feeling in response but quiet enough it’s just for her thankfully]

Rio: [reaching out to hold his hand because there’s a bar y’all are basically hid behind so it’s not gonna be noticed and maybe you’re just trying to move him so you can squeeze past on the off chance it was ‘will you forgive me about my birthday?’ seriously because we do feel bad about it]

Buster: [looking down at their hands and back up at her as if she only did it to be forgiven but he can’t help but play with her fingers the exact same way he did when they were on their dinner date because he knows she’s being serious actually ‘Will you spend the next one with me?’ since we all remember when he said he’d spend his 19th with her, so promise to do the same, thank you]

Rio: [a face like who, me? So innocent it is now the opposite, nodding SO enthusiastically ‘if I have a new boyfriend, I’ll dump him’ so casual, not like this paired with us resting our other hand on your leg is giving the most loved up vibes ever ‘I swear’]

Buster: [‘Don’t get a new boyfriend’ as if that’s so casual and not the most possessive thing you’ve ever said, boy, and paired with him doing the kind of move where he’s acting like he has to get past/go behind her to reach something on this bar purely so he can brush up and press against her]

Rio: [we’re pushing back against you because there’s no world in which we’re capable of doing anything but ‘I don’t want one’ on the gasp you also HAVE to do; like boyfriends just happen to you, kinda, but the what we actually want is blatant and there’s no point denying that]

Buster: [meanwhile we can’t deny the noise that’s escaping from him when he tries to answer her by saying good or whatever he was gonna say, thank god this pub is noisy and full of peeps always when y’all are around each other, it wouldn’t be loud but there’s no styling it out if anyone else heard it]

Rio: [looking back at him like you didn’t realise how in his way you were like oh no, flipping round to face him to do the dance of moving him one way and yourself another like there we go, lemme help you but really you’re just pressing against him in another way ft eye contact]

Buster: [I love this for you both, dangerous and ridiculous though it is and we’ve gotta add to it him lifting her up so she can reach something because she is smol and that’s believable, not at all just seeing how many positions y’all can be in and how it feels, nope]

Rio: [acting like the noise you’re making is you struggling to reach something as you stretch and not what we all know that it is, pass whatever random thing you’ve now picked up to him ‘teamwork’ like you’re just getting on exceptionally well and this is very platonic and you’re not holding the thing between your chest and his so you’re that close]

Buster: [also sitting her on the bar at one point like she’s so in your way you’ve gotta for a sec but we all know the real reason and if you wanted her out of your way sir you wouldn’t be standing as close as you are still]

Rio: [never wearing a long enough dress/skirt for all this so we know that you can see a lot right now and we’re absolutely fine with that and our face is only red because it’s warm with all these people around, grab a bag of crisps and share them with him by popping them in his mouth at random intervals]

Buster: [I’m so relieved that those crisps are shutting him up somewhat though it won’t stop him asking her ‘Do you need me to take you outside for some air?’ like that’s not TOO dangerous and I forbid it lol, just being a concerned cousin btw, if anyone’s listening in haha]

Rio: [putting his hand on your forehead like am I hot, do I feel hot? When you know you do because you casually feel like you’re on fire ‘it’s the wine’ like wine is a code now because of your dinner date shenanigans, wrapping your own arms around his neck to help yourself down off this bar because any way you can touch him and get him to touch you without it being ‘too far’ is what we must do in this moment]

Buster: [managing to stop himself from going too far with touching her entire face and neck despite how much he wants to because he does have that opportunity to help her down from the bar that he’s ofc making the most of and he’s also shamelessly gonna put an ice cube in her mouth because again can’t get away with rubbing it all over her body but it could just be another crisp or a moment like it, so we are kidding ourselves here]

Rio: [having to hold his fingers between your lips, even for a split second, because yeah, you could be fakeout biting him for bants, but we’re barely even thinking about the excuses at this point]

Buster: [y’all are spiralling and I can’t even blame you with how insane the levels of tension between you have been for the longest time, but thank god there are loads of family members around to cockblock y’all from going outside anywhere together without even realising that’s what they’re doing because we simply wouldn’t be able to stop you from hooking up rn otherwise]

Rio: [mhmm, too much family, not enough randoms and distraction, like some child is gonna come over and want crisps themselves in a minute or an adult is gonna want another drink, so you have to stop, because we’re literally tugging at the hem of whatever he’s wearing on his top half, like are we trying to get you to take a layer off because you’re hot too or are we simply pulling you into us]

Buster: [I’m too here for this I’m like yes do it, Junie no, we cannot, I’m not rewriting st paddy’s it was great, get away from each other for a bit, thank you]

Rio: [as long as you don’t fully hookup, and lbr, we know you’re both into the idea of getting away with as much as you can in front of the fam so, go take your moments to calm down before it’s not undetectable and we know it won’t be long before you gravitate back together]

Buster: [mhmm we all know you would have been getting up to shit at the christmas dinner table if you weren’t trying to ignore each other at that point, we’re gonna have to say some of the fam get together to play cards or something so you can have a moment like that cos I love a cliche, not soz]

Rio: [that’s a very real vibe, for now, to separate you for long enough, gonna have to say Grace has found and thus cornered you to paint nails or something because that’s not something you can do together without raising eyebrows]

Buster: [me immediately like stay away from Nancy please Grace, knowing what’s coming for y’all]

Rio: [knowing that that kicks off the upcoming Summer, ew, literally like 12, grow up, yes we would throw your nails under the bus right now but we aren’t to know how strange you’re gonna get lmao]

Buster: [do anything but fight Liam to the death, meanwhile, Buster, I know you lowkey don’t wanna spend time with anyone else ever but find something]

Rio: [it’s the way that once we allow ourselves to start, we literally can’t stop checking for him, like he’s not going anywhere and yet 👀]

Buster: [it’s so mutual though, to the point that someone really should’ve clocked it, so many of y’all like Tess and Ali are out here calling themselves observant and knowing but here we are again]

Rio: [the lies we tell ourselves like this hasn’t happened before lmao, oh lads]

Buster: [they gotta be on the same team for whatever game this fam are playing so they can sit really close together with bent heads and all that jazz as well as being on opposite ends of the table for something else, hitting all those poss cliches]

Rio: [absolutely, how you’re going to concentrate in any of these games is another thing entirely but you have to try]

Buster: [this boy is so competitive he’ll find a way to still win somehow lol, god bless]

Rio: [love that for you, as does this girl because we’re not here to downplay any of your achievements just because people think you’re too cocky for their taste]

Buster: [not soz he is actually smart and hardworking and good at things and not just cocky because he’s hot and rich or for no reason whatsoever]

Rio: [we’re here for him for so many reasons and not just because he’s hot and rich, soz haters, and we will have a glorious time despite the still palpable tension]

Buster: [there’s nothing you both love more than doing the most in front of this fam, like we said, and every chance to push every possible moment as far as they can is being taken during every game that’s being played, for sure]

Rio: [sorry it’s basically their kink, we wouldn’t have got this far otherwise]

Buster: [exactly and soz but she’s also had a shit bday and all round shit time lately so she deserves this, imo]

Rio: [my boo says let her have her incest lmao but seriously, the way we’re no longer freaking out about Liam or our breakup, wasn’t going to happen any other way huns]

Buster: [nobody talk to me btw about how he’s putting protective distance between her and Liam at all times in such a deliberately subtle way so that nobody else will be able to say anything but he knows she is and feels safe because that’s so adorable and important]

Rio: [it’s so fine, not at all killing us because of course we can feel it]

Buster: [like, if there was any doubt about how deeply he actually cares, we can’t act like it’s purely a lust thing when he’s doing all this thoughtful chivalry]

Rio: [oh we know y’all are in love, even if you’re now on the, we just wanna fuck, train of thought to rationalise it]

Buster: [the question is, can we think of any more xmas traditions and activities y’all can use to flirt indecently lmao]

Rio: [hmm, what else do we do on xmas, it is mostly drinking and games and telly, there could be a movie put on and y’all can either watch and be cosy or use it as a chance to piss off for a minute whilst most are distracted?]

Buster: [I was thinking that because pubs have tvs, also karaoke is always an option that you could use to piss off for a bit because he’s not gonna wanna be involved in that haha]

Rio: [a good shout, even if it’s gotta be all xmas songs for those of y’all wanting to belt ‘em out]

Buster: [so let’s do the best of both worlds and say you watch the film but piss off during karaoke though you might not be able to be as cosy and couply as you want during said film depending what babies and young kids exist because we all know they gravitate towards Rio because she’s that maternal gal]

Rio: [that works, I don’t think there’s a huge amount of kids here because it’s the Bibi part of Gen 4 which is mostly non-fam peeps, Libi is nearly 1, Ro is preggo and Toni and Archie exist, that’s about it? Because the younger part of Gen 3 are still tweens, basically so yeah]

Buster: [how awks she’d feel around Libi rn makes me sad]

Rio: [it is sad because you’re so the bitch to be after cuddles normally so it’s noticeable but literally Toni is the only one old enough to be toddling about and I’m sure you’re kinda clingy to your mother for obvious reasons so]

Buster: [you’re welcome for the lack of fam cockblock for once though lads]

Rio: [it’s a relatively good time for y’all to be sneaking, unintentional but very helpful lmao, like to think you have a spot by the fire for that christmassy cliche]

Buster: [yes, I love that, also a good reason for y’all to wanna leave that spot when karaoke starts because it’s just too hot by a fire]

Rio: [it’s a very good excuse that is more legitimate than just pissing off because he doesn’t smoke and we don’t smoke weed to the level we need to do it Xmas day thank you; but whilst the movie is on no one is gonna raise an eyebrow at blankets and being closer to share said blanket because that’s the point]

Buster: [you’d honestly look weirder if you weren’t snuggling is the excuse, tis the vibe]

Rio: [not sorry we’re taking this and running with it because when else are we having the excuse to be lying our head on his chest]

Buster: [enjoy how wild his heartbeat is because there’s no controlling that however calm and collected he acts all the time]

Rio: [we really would be because if you needed any confirmation he was also in this and not just playing, there you are, squeeze his hand for that hard same]

Buster: [so glad that a blanket means he can put his arms around her so tight without anyone knowing about it because that’s what’s going happen]

Rio: [making a happy little squished noise like when you are bear hugged, but literally not louder than the volume of this TV so only he’s gonna hear that]

Buster: [moving like we’re just settling and getting comfy but really he just wants her to keep making happy noises only he can hear because we know he’s so about it]

Rio: [we definitely are, it is who we are, wrapping our arms around your middle in this snuggle, looking up at him]

Buster: [can’t really get away with her being fully on his lap but getting as close to that as we can, she’s on his leg definitely, very unintentional santa vibes of me there lol]

Rio: [soz we can’t sit still because you know exactly how we feel about that festive vibe]

Buster: [doing the playing with her necklace move again from their date but this time moving the clasp back round to the back of her neck and really doing the most to touch it and her hair + breath on it which isn’t even deliberate at this point]

Rio: [thank god for the cosy vibe because we are red as fuck right now, crossing our legs so we’re even more sitting on you without it being super apparent we’ve really got comfortable]

Buster: [gotta touch her leg and just leave his hand there when she’s drawn all that attention to them, can’t not]

Rio: [little sounds from the effort of not moving excessively to move his hand further]

Buster: [don’t want her to shh ever but doing one in her ear purely because of how hot it is]

Rio: [pushing your head into his chest like you’re headbutting him for shhing you but again it’s the effort of having any chill]

Buster: [gotta make his own sound about it, we’ll pretend it’s like she’s winded him with that headbutt but it’s so not]

Rio: [tap his lips literally as fast as that to shh him so it looks purely like bants and not because you wanna feel his breath again]

Buster: [shamelessly pulling at her dress under this blanket the way she did his top before as if it’s not short af and barely there already because of how she’s sitting]

Rio: [the intake of breath we do as we instinctively push against you, cannot let it out casually]

Buster: [this boy just throwing what caution there was to the wind and bringing her the rest of the way into his lap because duh]

Rio: [having to cover your mouth like you’re stifling a yawn so the ‘fuck’ doesn’t fully escape because we are dying now]

Buster: [as per it’s beyond mutual and he’s just trying to fully bury his head into her neck and hair, regardless of how not at all casual that is rn, saying his own ‘Jesus Christ’ so quietly but so !!! and on that baby’s bday as well, sir, putting that necklace clasp in his mouth for a sec, blink and you’d miss it but she obvs will not]

Rio: [gripping onto his legs so hard under this blanket because we can’t handle how this feels and how you’re acting rn AT ALL ‘Buster’ like you’re just whispering for him to stop hogging the blanket or something and not that your brain has malfunctioned at this contact]

Buster: [he can’t even say her name back rn because he’s too !! we’re all just trying to cum and simultaneously not cum in front of our entire extended fam and by all I mean you pair of utter feral savages, the way he has so dramatically manoeuvred her so that they can make the most intense eye contact for a sec because he can’t speak, if any of y’all see that, no you don’t]

Rio: [it is only sheer dumb luck you do not kiss him because this proximity and intensity demands it but luckily you remember in time and your head lands by his ear instead ‘I want this’]

Buster: [literally, it’s a miracle you both can still keep some awareness of where you are and the things you absolutely can’t get away with, almost proud of you tbh ‘I know what you want’ because he do and he wants it just as much, please whisper that, thanks so much, even though you are moving slightly to make the point and that’s not very subtle]

Rio: [‘please’ like it’s feasible and you can when you’re already both too close to losing control here]

Buster: [‘we can’t’ as he’s continuing to behave in a way that totally contradicts what he just said]

Rio: [‘you can’ moving further back on him like see]

Buster: [when you were gonna do another shh in her ear like no no don’t be silly but then she moves and he’s dying and trying not to MOAN so he ends up just grazing her earlobe with his teeth for a sec, very much like the quick bite of the necklace clasp, thank god for all her hair so it just looks like you’re trying to whisper very quietly and be considerate]

Rio: [biting the inside of your cheeks so hard because it’s like you passed on the MOAN with that earlobe attention, shamelessly letting his body entirely support yours at this point as a must]

Buster: [he knows what she’s doing because of course he does and even though he isn’t allowed to hear her MOAN fully right here or right now he cannot help desperately wanting to because this is the feral point they’ve reached, so obviously moving in a basically involuntary way like please do it]

Rio: [soz we have to touch ourself because there’s just no way to stop it, its not like you can see from your POV because the point is no one should be able to, moving his hand to his lap like go on]

Buster: [you’ve got this far, boy, there’s likewise no way you’re gonna stop now and be like um no that’s my limit]

Rio: [making your little whimpering noises every time you make accidental contact here]

Buster: [he can’t even shh her any more soz everyone but he’s as close to losing it himself]

Rio: [excuse us everyone nothing to see here, just doing our best to silently masturbate]

Buster: [mhmm, not like the way he’s breathing on her skin again is indecent af because he really wants to kiss her and can’t, no no, and it’s not as if you’ve set yourself an impossible task here]

Rio: [not like it’s entirely too close and would be so easy to take this even further but you cannot]

Buster: [you’re trying to hold onto that last fleeting piece of self control and we respect it]

Rio: [if this film ends before y’all, you’re gonna be fuming]

Buster: [realistically I doubt that even with how careful and near silent you’ve gotta be with all your touching you’re both so ridiculously turned on rn it’s only a matter of time]

Rio: [being able to feel everything you’re doing is all it would take, never mind the situation of where you are and how you’ve been all day ‘you-’]

Buster: [Exactly, I’m honestly surprised it didn’t happen as soon as y’all started touching yourselves, lowkey impressive of you both tbf ‘no, you’ the childishness of that response isn’t lost on me and isn’t reminding me of y’all’s truth or dare moment, it’s fine]

Rio: [just saying ‘you’ over and over, not doing more than mouthing it but with increasing desperation in our expression]

Buster: [whispering her name back the way he could not when he was too overwhelmed as such a definitive no, you because !!!]

Rio: [‘holy fuck’ under your breath because you will never not react the hardest to him saying your name]

Buster: [just like he will never not be so into the way she reacts to it or over getting to say it in this context]

Rio: [‘give it to me’ because a thing you could say if he’d taken your phone or snacks or anything because we need to make you cum and we know how loud in comparison we could say that will get you because it does us]

Buster: [it really would, she knows him so well, you’re gonna have to like fake a sneeze or something sir idk because of how you’re gonna move when you do and there’s no stilling that with sheer force of will]

Rio: [a casual ‘coughing fit’ so we can smack you on the back, by which I mean hold you SO tight whilst we ride this out with you]

Buster: [I was literally like aww as if that was the most romantic thing ever, calm down Junie, a great idea though my boo]

Rio: [calm down is right lmao, I don’t even know how you’re gonna]

Buster: [mhmm, take the rest of this film to try and recover from how intense all that was, physically if not emotionally, because yeah idk how you’re gonna even begin to process any of that]

Rio: [like really, we cannot just sit here and finish this film with y’all like that didn’t just happen so get up, even if you have no real aim of where you are going, just take a sec]

Buster: [soz that you can’t also immediately get up because that’d be weird so you actually are gonna have to sit there and pretend that didn’t happen and hope the fam are engrossed in this film enough that nobody catches your eye or anything because idk how you wouldn’t simply pass away if they did, you’ll have to wait for a while before you go to the bathroom and clean yourself up, but please eventually do, hoping you don’t cross paths with Rio because that’d be awks]

Rio: [soz only one of you can piss off at a time and we moved first because we needed to, nobody come talk to us, thank you]

Buster: [Especially not Edie or Libi or Nancy thanks so much]

Rio: [At least Nancy is the only real candidate for that, even though we’re gonna wanna literally die for that, she’s oblivious]

Buster: [too real and he can’t even come and save you this time because can’t be in the proximity to you rn soz gal]

Rio: [let her brag about her presents probably like she’s a child, you don’t need to really listen, be in your own head about what just happened there and what’s happening now]

Buster: [the other girl from the posh school who I ended up friends with after my german work experience but did not like did that to me once and we were also literally 18, girl no, I hope you gals aren’t propping the bar up because when he’s cleaned himself up he’s gonna drink some more, bad idea though that is and if y’all are he’s gonna have to go direct to the cellar and we all know what’s happening down there on st paddys so that will send me if that’s where you end up hiding for a bit, boy]

Rio: [y’all can be outside ‘cos I’m sure you smoke, all posh girls do and you have a complex about trying to be skinny so you’re welcome boy]

Buster: [again, someone should really question why he’s drinking like a savage again but in this fam that isn’t gonna happen, we all know who your dad is]

Rio: [we all know y’all got your blindspots and this is deffo one of them lmao]

Buster: [I’m sure you and Nancy are still beefing so you can’t steal her stash this time, unlucky hun]

Rio: [when you simultaneous want to talk to him but also never have to see him again so you gotta say something, good idea or nah

Rio: Don’t be weird, yeah

Buster: I’m not, I’m being merry

Rio: I didn’t mean you were

Rio: just that there’s no need to

Buster: You either think I already am or I’m about to be, neither are nice of you

Rio: No, I don’t, don’t question my niceness

Rio: ‘cos I meant weird specifically around me, not in general

Rio: not that anyone here would notice anyway…

Buster: specifically around you is what makes it not nice

Rio: It’d be rude of you to ignore me, yes

Buster: No, it’s rude of you to imply I’m going to ignore you now

Rio: Okay, rude of you but understandable

Rio: I just asked you not to, really

Buster: Understandable because you’re assuming I got what I want and that means I’ll just dismiss you

Rio: Nah, that’s not what I’m saying

Rio: it’s fine, you’re fine, I’m fine

Buster: You’ve called me out on my bullshit for using the word you just used 3 times in a row

Rio: I’m trying not to be awkward, because we don’t need to, that’s all

Rio: but I’d get it if you were, how’s that for better wording?

Buster: You don’t have to try so hard to be or not be anything

Rio: Oh, great

Buster: You know what I mean

Rio: that in trying not to be weird, I’ve been massively weird, yep, thank you

Buster: Well, you are talking to my sister, of all people

Rio: You think that was my idea?

Rio: I was cornered

Buster: You’re allowed to tell her to fuck off

Buster: What else is Christmas for?

Rio: you could, sure

Rio: I can’t

Buster: Fine, I’ll do it for you

Buster: hold on

Rio: Not what I meant, no

Buster: Still, you’d be lying if you said you don’t want me to

Rio: In the fantasy where your sister isn’t also my cousin and someone I’m gonna have to see and talk to, as well as the rest of them

Buster: No, in our real lives where she’s a fucked up person

Rio: I’m not in the best place to judge her now

Buster: Don’t, it’s not even close to a similar situation

Rio: It’s not but it’s still not good

Buster: It’s not a crime, there’s no need to punish yourself as if you’ve committed one

Rio: I’m not, I can’t avoid her any more than I could before though, it’s unrelated but true

Buster: Yes you can

Rio: If I acted like you, people would notice

Rio: it might seem like everyone’s completely oblivious but

Buster: You care more about making a scene, when it suits you, than you do holding people accountable

Rio: When ‘holding people accountable’ achieves nothing, sure

Buster: Playing fake nice achieves nothing

Rio: I’m fake now

Buster: Yeah, sometimes

Rio: I don’t have time to not get along with people just because

Buster: It isn’t just because, it’s distancing yourself from someone for a valid reason

Rio: You have to live with her, for the time being, I see her occasionally, of course it’s different for you

Buster: Jesus, at least counter what I said with your own valid excuse

Rio: This isn’t about Nancy

Buster: Not exclusively

Rio: I’m not dumb, I know you’re talking about the Liam thing

Buster: It isn’t just about that either

Buster: it’s about you, putting yourself, and how you actually feel, last all the time

Rio: How can you even say that when I just did exactly what I wanted, despite how much of a problem it would be for everyone else if they ever found out

Buster: You did the opposite of what you wanted on your birthday, to keep the peace

Rio: It doesn’t matter now, he’s dumping me anyway

Buster: Of course it matters, it’s your whole mindset

Rio: You are too drunk to be trying to fix my life

Buster: Tell me to shut up like you mean it, at least

Rio: I dunno why you’re being so mean to me

Buster: I’m trying to help you

Rio: I don’t need help, but it’s always nice to know how shit you think I am

Buster: You don’t think you do because you don’t see it as a problem

Rio: I’m not sitting here telling you your whole personality is a problem

Buster: Mine is only a problem for other people, it doesn’t cause any for me

Rio: That’s really nice

Buster: I told you, I’m not, and it wouldn’t get either of us anywhere right now if I was

Rio: We aren’t going anywhere

Buster: You wishing I would stop doesn’t mean I’ve hit a wall

Rio: Shh, go drink some more

Buster: Have a drink with me instead of being passive aggressive as if I’m one of your least favourite relatives that have cornered you

Rio: Are you sure?

Buster: About how much you still like me? Very sure

Rio: You’re such an idiot

Buster: I know your mouth is hurting from having to stay so quiet

Rio: you got that one right, okay

Buster: if I was an idiot I wouldn’t have come up with a fun solution that’ll numb and clean it simultaneously

Rio: 🙄😏

Rio: that’s the excuse, huh

Buster: I don’t deal in excuses, I deal in opportunities and this one is perfect for getting to see you

Rio: and if anyone asks why I was biting the inside of my cheek…?

Buster: Why would they?

Rio: I mean, don’t ask if you don’t wanna know, pretty obvious

Rio: so I’ll have a drink with you but I don’t know about you looking at me

Buster: Are you daring me to make [her fave drink] with my eyes closed?

Rio: That would be pretty impressive

Buster: It’s too late though, I’ve already made it and it’s waiting for you here, like I am

Rio: so let me distract your sister quickly or she’ll be asking you to make her her own drink when she follows me

Buster: She can ask but she won’t get

Rio: just me

Buster: There’s different rules for you, our own rules

Rio: I like that

Buster: But it’s a shame they have limits or I’d have another solution for how sore your mouth is

Rio: It’s rude to tease me with what I can’t have

Buster: It’s not my fault if you aren’t using the mistletoe to your advantage

Rio: it’s a bit late to go ‘round the party and make that look like it’s not personal, you could’ve set out the ground rules earlier

Buster: You could be taller and then I wouldn’t have to be the one reaching up to steal it

Rio: Are you being serious

Buster: No, I don’t really want you to grow [however many inches lol]

Rio: 😅 Not the part I was referring to

Buster: Well, I seriously want to kiss you, I thought that was obvious

Rio: If anything was going to change your mind, it would’ve been what we just did, that’s what I thought

Buster: Did it change your mind?

Rio: not at all

Rio: and I would have to die if you felt the opposite

Buster: Please don’t, it would definitely ruin Christmas for me

Rio: And everyone else’s, not to big myself up or anything

Rio: I want to kiss you so badly

Buster: Everyone knows I only care about myself, babe

Rio: That’s not true

Buster: How else do you explain the fact that I got you something but decided against bringing it after you didn’t shower me with thanks for your birthday present?

Rio: I didn’t want to just send a message, it didn’t feel like enough

Rio: then everything blew up with [flop boyf]

Buster: Fuck him and your lack of communication, I’m gonna go home and get it

Rio: And leave me? I just convinced Nance she NEEDED to do karaoke

Buster: We’ll have our drink together first

Rio: [Come join him at this bar like oh hey, as if there’s anything casual about how !! you are to be this close to him again]

Buster: [passing her this drink that was not at all casually waiting for her with such a lingering touch because if Nancy is doing karaoke there’s no way everyone isn’t watching how hilarious that is]

Rio: [I dread to think like oh honey you humiliating yourself but you pop off hun because we’re too busy being distracted and having a moment, cheers with eye contact as you sip always]

Buster: [normally he’d love nothing more than to witness Nancy’s humiliation but that has not even registered to him as happening and he could not care less, soz our only priority is LOOKING at her]

Rio: [‘you know how much I love my birthday present, don’t you?’ putting a hand on his shoulder ‘cos that could be casual enough but it is not right now]

Buster: [‘As much as you’ll love your christmas present’ cocky but true, whatever you’ve bought her, I’m trying to think of something that could be a reminder of y’all’s date but like I don’t wanna just hand her a bottle of wine]

Rio: [‘you don’t have to go get it’ but not in a I DON’T WANT IT way just like, I don’t need it if you don’t wanna go, btw, leaning ourself against your side, so casual, sipping, not LOOKING at you every chance we get]

Buster: [‘of course I do, I should’ve given it to you as soon as we got here’ because kicking himself that he didn’t bring it, we know why you didn’t but it’s bought and wrapped and everything]

Rio: [‘maybe not that soon’ like we had to sit through the meal and socialising with other people, because we know your gifting slaps and we’ll be in no mood for any of that nonsense after ‘give it to me in private, somehow’ looking around like I know there’s people everywhere but]

Buster: [leaning against her like a lil nudge because we know exactly what you mean but he’s also impatient af ‘You should come with me, you can open it there’ that’s how you know he’s drunk just suggesting a casual trip the baze gaff as if she has any business going with him when he says to them he’s going back for a sec for something he forgot/needs]

Rio: [when everything in you wants to grab his hand and run basically but you also know what would happen and are thinking over every possible thing it could mean for you both, biting the side of your mouth unthinkingly then being like ow lol ‘you wouldn’t want to come back’ after a while because true, neither would we]

Buster: [when he just knows, drunk or not, that she’s biting her mouth even before the ow reaction so doing the softest don’t gesture in the form of how he’s touching her wrist before he grabs some ice off the bar and puts it in her mouth the way he did earlier except not because it’s so lovingly, and all this is the lull of time before she speaks again ‘we don’t have to’ you very much do have to come back though, soz hun]

Rio: [as if you weren’t thinking about kissing him before, now it is ALL you can think about as you’re letting him take care of you with the biggest hearteyes ‘you only leave early when you have somewhere else to be’ because neither of you is a, I now wish to snuggle at home with a hot chocolate and a TV special type, so yeah, it’s not being bought]

Buster: [‘I’ll lie’ sir you cannot Nancy will know even if nobody else does that you don’t actually have plans]

Rio: [‘What if your parents or sisters come back?’]

Buster: [‘Ava wants to be here and my parents have to lie that they do too for slightly longer’ not mentioning Nancy because she can clearly be heard doing this karaoke and we know the messy flop isn’t going home early ever]

Rio: [the cinematic vibe of her just wailing in the background is tres amusing, thus we have to do a little giggle because wow, just looking at him like can we, I don’t think we can but maybe ‘you’re hard to say no to, you know’]

Buster: [it’s giving that gal singing when her little brother is absolutely losing it and I’m so amused, like, they couldn’t be more in love here, he’s giving hearteyes and a half at how adorable her giggle is while that performance is going on ‘give in to me then’ didn’t have to say that in such an intense way either did you sir]

Rio: [😳 ‘I want to’ the tone underlying how much of an understatement those three words feels to us ‘I want what you want’]

Buster: [I’m sorry that I simply refuse to let this happen, lads, she’s gonna have to have some kind of sibling crisis or something that starts occurring right that very sec so they don’t run, lord knows there’s enough of you and it makes his point of her putting everyone else first even more valid]

Rio: [it’s easily done and plausible, you can be snatched away by anyone literally right now, we don’t need to specify or have it be any sort of actual drama, just family nonsense]

Buster: [the point is, it’s a dose of reality before she gets chance to get carried away and plot device to send him on his own and separate y’all even though he’ll be lowkey fuming and more in the mood to throw it at her now lol, sulk on your way there and back hun, you have time]

Rio: [hence I better not even message you when this inevitably gets resolved before you’re back because we know what you’re going to think to that happening lol]

Buster: [mhmm we all know it’s not that deep and you should’ve just said fuck it and gone but it just isn’t who you are, at least him needing to go back to the baze gaff is more believable now he’s lowkey angry af because it’s like oh you really are annoyed you don’t have such and such and absolutely should go and get it yeah you big grump]

Rio: [everyone like you go calm down sir and we’re just stuck here now like thanks guys, definitely knocking back more drinks ourself]

Buster: [she’s gonna have time to get drunker herself and level the playing field here because he isn’t rushing back the way he would’ve when he first said about going to grab it, he’s probably gonna take twice as long as he should and I’m definitely gonna say that he has a massive row with his flop twin when he does return because no he has not calmed down enough, though he did try, and I’m sure you’ll say something bitchy or whatever gal if you’re outside smoking again but because you’re also a diva you’ll carry it on when he tries to walk away and just go inside]

Rio: [big yikes, when you know this mood is your fault but also if you intervene, it’d have to be you taking Nance away to bitch and that’s also going to piss him off so you’re just watching like I hope an adult tells you to shh Nance because I’m not able to put myself in the middle of this one]

Buster: [I’m so sorry baze you don’t need your children going at it to the level they are when you already don’t wanna be here, at least they can threaten Nancy with being taken home like a child if she doesn’t stop acting like one because how nasty this would and could be getting is a BIG yikes, but I do like to think that Ava could take him aside and calm him down since Rio cannot]

Rio: [this is true, save the day girl, baze tell that bitch off, casual family domestic, everyone else look away and pretend you do not see]

Buster: [Poor Ava should not have to but the reality is baze are busy and nobody else is gonna get through to him, so soz gal, thank GOD that preggo Ro would have already left because the last thing anyone needs is her getting involved/sitting there holier than thou like a judgy bitch]

Rio: [you wouldn’t handle it if they turned it on you hun so pipe down]

Buster: [gonna have to say whatever his gift for Rio is, it’s small enough to fit in his pocket because he can’t be doing all this whilst swinging a gift bag around because that is TOO MUCH visually for me to handle and also everyone would be like UM who is that for]

Rio: [imagine, no, we can’t be having that, Nancy would have literally snatched it, it’s too much for now hun]

Buster: [I’m cackling at the thought, lord knows when or how he’s gonna give it to her though because this is AWKS]

Rio: [when Ava has left you we can take that as our cue that you’re at least calmed from the Nancy of it all and come over with a drink as a peace offering]

Buster: [taking it and downing it so he can immediately walk away from her to make the point to her that he’s still annoyed at her specifically as if that was not obvious, without actually making it really obvious to everybody else]

Rio: [sit down wherever he was sat like well, that went well, didn’t it]

Buster: What have you got to say that isn’t a bullshit peace offering?

Rio: Why does it have to be bullshit?

Buster: Because you’re not sorry and you don’t want what I want

Rio: because you get to decide all that for me

Buster: It was your decision and you’d make exactly the same one again, you always fucking do

Rio: If I didn’t, then [whichever sib/sibs came over and ruined this] would’ve seen us go together, could’ve followed, any number of fucking things you don’t want to happen either

Buster: If you didn’t they would’ve had to solve their own problem and god forbid they do anything without involving you

Rio: If Ava needed anything, you’d do it without hesitating

Rio: it happens more because I have more brothers and sisters, I can’t help that

Buster: I’d die for Ava, the difference is she doesn’t need me to because she’s allowed to be capable and can sort her own shit unless it literally was life or death

Rio: Don’t talk about my siblings like you know anything about them

Buster: I know you

Rio: I missed the part where I fucking asked them to come over and distract me

Buster: I didn’t realise you’d also missed the glaringly obvious established pattern

Rio: You know what, fuck this

Rio: you blame me for everything

Buster: Christ, take some responsibility, you shoulder enough of theirs

Rio: Maybe you’d get it if your sister had a baby when she was 16

Buster: My sister wouldn’t, so I guess I’ll never get it

Rio: [walk away from wherever you are to the bathroom for your storm off]

Buster: [I know you’re in a mood but OUCH that was uncalled for and v rude actually, sir]

Rio: [not in the mood for our fam to be slut-shamed, thanking you lol]

Buster: [that went well, oh lads]

Rio: [when you do just wanna piss off home now but instead you have to come out and go sit with your fam to make a point]

Buster: [when you knew you’d gone too far and regretted saying it like the second you said it but you don’t wanna just come at her with a drink peace offering after calling hers bullshit so you’re just looking over at her like !]

Rio: [obviously we notice because even though we’re doing our best living my best life with my family act, we’re also sneaking peeks at you because duh]

Buster: [Eventually coming over when he can stand it no longer and being like ‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’ because he do know her and she’s not gonna make a big scene in front of the fam, gotta chance it]

Rio: [thank the lord, not unhinged like your sister because imagine if we just started brawling you here and now; but no, get up and go like okay]

Buster: [find some privacy please, nobody needs to be overhearing this convo, the awks silence as you have to walk to wherever you’re going RIP]

Rio: [lmao the awkwardness just die]

Buster: [when you get there ‘I shouldn’t have said that’ because no you shouldn’t]

Rio: [‘say what you like’ with folded arms because we’re not impressed ‘it’s what you meant’]

Buster: [‘It’s her life, she can live it how she likes, I didn’t mean to bring her into it, none of this is about her, not really’]

Rio: [‘well, all my family are beneath you in various ways but I know I’m the biggest problem, you mentioned it’]

Buster: [‘No they’re not, they were just in my way’ blurting out that truth because not that much of a snob actually, underneath it all]

Rio: [looking at him to see if he’s being truthful and not just trying to cover himself, even though he’s not really that bitch and you know it, so just nodding like alright ‘they exist, the whole family does’ shrugging like it’s in any way casual ‘there’s nothing either of us can do about that’]

Buster: [‘I know’ lowkey so frustrated and sad that there’s nothing they can do to make this alright with the fam and be a normal couple because he hates being that bitch, he’s always had options before]

Rio: [do a sigh because it is both of those things ‘It’ll never be different, there’s no point pretending’]

Buster: [‘So what is there a point to?’ like okay if that’s the case what do we do, like should I just walk away now or what]

Rio: [a lowkey look of disbelief ‘why do I have to work it out?’ because we’re both headfucked here, boy]

Buster: [‘Because it’s always me’ blurted out in the manner of Effy’s why don’t I get to be upset moment but slightly less dramatically, because we’re having a full identity crisis here as he’s always the bitch who knows what to do and suddenly he isn’t and it’s really !!! ‘and I can’t-’ we’re having so many emotions today]

Rio: [immediately softening because we don’t like being mad and especially not at you ‘hey, it’s okay’ squeezing his hand like listen to and believe me there ‘no one is ever going to find out about what happened, there’s no pressure to work it out from anyone but us, there’s no time limit, like’]

Buster: [‘I’m sorry’ when does he ever say that but likewise when does he ever almost have a breakdown like he just did a sec ago so]

Rio: [rubbing his arm gently like I know ‘me too’ because we are in terms of it being a headfuck of a situation but we also know not everything you said about us is untrue we just didn’t want to hear it right now ‘look, if it isn’t worth it, then don’t but-’ making eye contact because obviously we want to and we aren’t going to say otherwise or you’d never go there lads ‘all we’d have to do is some planning before seeing each other, it’d be so much easier’]

Buster: [giving that eye contact back in a way that means YOU’RE WORTH IT without actually saying it because you cannot rn or you’ll end up ruining all our excellent cockblocking and I won’t allow that mr + handing her over this beautifully wrapped gift because whatever it is will defs prove how true that is because of the date reminder and how feelsy it is]

Rio: [I vibe that you pull him somewhere even more private just to be doubly sure to open this gift and not be interrupted by anyone, because we are going to have EMOTIONS and y’all don’t need to see and we need the time and space to fully appreciate, tah, gonna have to hug you because what else and how else can we convey how !! we are ‘thank you’]

Buster: [this hug being everything though because you both have EMOTIONS and nowhere else to put them]

Rio: [we are SQUEEZING you and burying our head into your chest]

Buster: [really giving this his ALL for someone who isn’t a hugger and god knows when he last did hug somebody, probably one of baze when he was a little child, proud of you, hun]

Rio: [well done boy, we love to see it, literally, looking up at you]

Buster: [resting his chin on the top of her head adorably while she does that because simply must]

Rio: [doing a happy sigh instead of a sad and frustrated one, although yeah we’re still frustrated but in a different way than a sec ago]

Buster: [let her go before there’s a kiss which isn’t allowed lol, instead fix her hair that you just messed up as a shameless excuse to just play with it and be soft]

Rio: [close your eyes and enjoy that sensation ‘I should’ve gone with you’ quietly, after a while of just chilling]

Buster: [‘I forgive you for not going if you forgive me for being a cunt when you didn’t’ because so many shoulda woulda couldas already and there’s gonna be so many more at different points cos this is a headfuck]

Rio: [just nod because of course we do ‘but I might not forgive myself for it’ like I’m mad, fyi]

Buster: [‘if you don’t, I’ll have to make you’ oh the daddy energy is back okay then]

Rio: [‘yeah?’ in the most please tell me more tone ever]

Buster: [‘I’ll have to guarantee all your regrets are distant memories and the only vivid ones from today are [and obviously recounting all your extra antics, not just during that film but before too which obvs I don’t need to because we can re-read it if we need to remember]’]

Rio: [the way this has your breathing noticeably getting faster and shallow ‘it’s been a really good christmas’ after having to swallow dramatically to calm down enough to speak]

Buster: [touching her throat after she swallows, as dramatically, there’s no need ever ‘the best so far’ because always gonna top it and y’all can enjoy thinking about what next year could be like and all the ones after, why not]

Rio: [melting into your touch like he can keep his hand there forever ‘it’s nice being friends again, so we can stick together’ because need to have no excuse to be seen with you all day]

Buster: [‘I’ve never had a friend like you’ because true in every sense, saucy and actual]

Rio: [‘I’ll be your best friend, if you want’ likewise all the ways we could mean that]

Buster: [‘I do want us to be that for each other’ so sincerely because it’s lonely at the top sis]

Rio: [smile so big because you care about him and he cares about you and it’s everything to get that confirmation]

Buster: [the actual intake of breath because her smile is so beautiful and he can’t deal before he’s then trying to get a not at all subtle look at the bitten inside of her mouth because he’s a drunken nerd and he cares that much bye]

Rio: [laughing and playfully pushing his face away like what are you doing ‘so weird’]

Buster: [‘I’m not, I’m being friendly’ the way that’s said though and then a he's putting his finger in her mouth and really softly feel where she’s bitten the inside of her cheek to shit, obvs checking the other side too and the inside her lip because gotta be v slow and indecent and thorough about this]

Rio: [the moans you can’t hold back literally with how you are in this moment ‘it hurts’ however distorted that is by his literal fingers in your mouth because we must]

Buster: [dying about it because you’ve been able to make so little noise ever, be it on your date or on this day so it’s really new and !! and of course feels like she’s being louder than she is and like y’all are closer to being caught than you are which we know you’re both into, so the way he not at all casually pushes her against a wall or whatever surface wherever they are rn like gotta hide even more is a response to all those things as much as it’s also just him being overwhelmed]

Rio: [‘OW’ ing like that also hurt way more than it did so you don’t make more indecent sounds about it but the way we’re LOOKING at you, you’re going to know how we’re actually feeling]

Buster: [the LOOK he’s giving making it known that he’s not at all sorry despite how soft he’s being holding her atm as if to make up for lowkey slamming her into something]

Rio: [‘you’re so determined to show how nice you aren’t’ standing on your tiptoes so you can ‘fix’ his hair aka run your hands through it]

Buster: [‘I want you to know so badly’ because when she said she wanted to kiss him so badly, the exact same energy, picking her up slightly so she can reach easier the way he helped her at the bar before]

Rio: [‘I want what you want’ saying each word deliberately because we do and you said we didn’t when you were pissed off so hear it, tugging his hair just slightly because we’re serious ‘You’re so-’]

Buster: [‘I shouldn’t have said that either’ likewise saying each word as deliberately because he’s as serious, at the same time as using the same fingers he put in her mouth in the same manner but running them along her flaps, for lack of a better word lol, as if we gotta know how wet her underwear is from the outside never mind the inside and that isn’t already a well known fact by this point]

Rio: [When this contact is the realest and furthest you’ve gone so far because there’s absolutely no flimsy excuse for it, should you be caught, and this has you stunned into silence, even if you cannot help moving towards his touch]

Buster: [you’re gonna wish that you were stunned into silence sir because that same thought would have the opposite effect on him cos he’s extra, we know, and it’s your turn to make a SOUND that is too loud for where you are and soz but this isn’t the feral free for all of st paddy’s so you’ve simply gotta either hear somebody go past/talking or something and therefore be like !! about if they heard you, because this cannot be a hookup moment and it will if y’all don’t get scared straight]

Rio: [it’d be a total amateur move to jump away from him like you’re on fire, so you just about manage that but as close as we just pushed ourself against you is how far we’re getting away, trying your best to look casual and not like you’re on the highest alert for two reasons now]

Buster: [both of you not breathing just here like 👀 but he’s always the boy with a plan who can get himself under control so ‘I did say a minute’ because he did to your fam you were sat with like maybe you should go because it has been longer than that and you can’t keep pushing your luck like this, lads, not tonight at least]

Rio: [nod, in a daze at first but as you’re pulling your clothes back into place, nod more confidently like yeah, you’re right ‘why did you wanna talk to me?’ like what’s the story because it’s not what it actually was]

Buster: [the cogs in his head visibly turning like oh yes we need a cover story because truly you do, obvs it’s easiest to blame Nancy because everyone saw that fight with her and things have been rocky between y’all since your bday and she do be a huge bitch so it’s not inconceivable that you act like something she said/did was Rio related because she’s a mess she won’t remember and nobody would be on her side if she said she didn’t, just thinking all these things out loud, putting together the pieces in a conspiratorial whisper vibe]

Rio: [that all tracks ‘I can make up the rest’ putting your present in your bag carefully ‘make you look bad but not quite as bad as her, like’ with a lil smirk like sounds about right, yeah?]

Buster: [his own confident nod like yes exactly because he knows she knows what she’s doing and he can trust her obvs or none of this would be happening]

Rio: [wave at him as you get out of this hiding place like okay then ‘see you later?’]

Buster: [when you really wanna pull her back in and just stay here and even start to do that before you can stop yourself + all the moves to lean in to kiss her but then you remember that you absolutely cannot start down that road again so you’re like ‘yeah, see you later’ whilst your lips are close enough to brush against hers, nbd but at least it feels like a to be continued/promise that way so that’s nice]

Rio: [‘why-’ when you likewise can’t stop yourself from starting to ask a question you already know the answer to, not that you mind the continued sensation of brushing your lips against each others, tortuous though it is]

Buster: [‘You know why’ didn’t need to say that remotely but we’re prolonging that sensation and this moment shamelessly]

Rio: [‘I forget’ because that’s the truest thing you could possibly say]

Buster: [‘It’s really fucking easy to’ because same]

Rio: [‘If we got caught now, we’d be the only ones who knew we didn’t kiss’ because you basically are]

Buster: [‘If we do, we won’t stop at a kiss’ too true ‘and we’ll still get caught before we want it to be over’ again true, you have no chill and mid hook up would be so frustrating you’d actually die]

Rio: [when you know so you don’t need to say anything ‘you didn’t let me go’ as if you made big attempts to leave]

Buster: [‘I tried’ because it would really feel like he made such a big effort to because that’s how hard it is rn and how much they don’t wanna leave each other]

Rio: [‘Third times meant to be a charm, so-’ walking away like you can bring me back this time and you better lol]

Buster: [Doing it with such a !!! move, if she thought she was getting thrown around before it’s nothing compared to this moment here ‘It should’ve been me making you cum’ pinning her hands above her head as he says this like he’s so offended at them for doing it during the film instead and it goes without saying that he’s also dry humping her to within an inch of her life in the way they could not then because they were barely able to move and this time he’s doing the absolute most]

Rio: [‘It was’ blurted out as you’re shifting all your weight onto him, pulling him closer by his belt ‘it’s been you for ages now’]

Buster: [‘on your birthday’ not a question because we know it, she wore an outfit for you despite the fact you weren’t there so]

Rio: [‘how could I think about anyone else?’ soz not soz flop boyfriend but we know he won and it wasn’t even a close competition]

Buster: [sucks to suck flop and he’s SO into it as evidenced by his v enthusiastic responses rn, telling her about his absolutely savage behaviour when she left to go to the airport and he was left to his own devices because whatever you did to deal with how turned on you were, we know it was beyond extra]

Rio: [we’re moving ferally fast because 1. We don’t have time to waste and 2. This is how hearing this makes us feel ‘did it feel as good as this?’]

Buster: [‘nothing feels as good as this’ really emphasised by how difficult it would be to get that sentence out and how it sounds when he does]

Rio: [having to bite his top because you can’t bite him yet but you also genuinely hurt your mouth before and you also want him to know how hard holding back is for you too ‘no one has done it like you’ almost mad at how true that is]

Buster: [idk how her dress isn’t getting ripped in response to all of that, sheer luck and luck only because love everything she’s doing and saying so much ‘no one does anything like you do’ the truest thing, everything she does however mundane or not is next level compared to anyone else]

Rio: [‘you don’t even know yet’ because we have done nothing in the grand scheme of things even though it feels like everything ‘I wanna be in your head as much as you’re in mine’ pressing our forehead against his, continuing to grind against you as we use the movement for leverage]

Buster: [‘You’ve been in there for years, you never leave my thoughts’ because aware that she is gonna have to go fr in person in a sec as much as we don’t wanna be thinking about it]

Rio: [hiding your face in his neck, doing frustrated little whines because yes, we do not want to leave, thanks family and universe ‘it’s so stupid’]

Buster: [doing everything he possibly can rn so they don’t have to think about it and frustrated isn’t how she feels, he’s a man on a mission, including another hot shh of course but in a there, there, I’m gonna make it okay and you feel better way not like shut it please]

Rio: [grip onto the back of his shirt like your life depends on it because you’re dying ‘I can say your name, not just think it’ and proceeding to do so, in his ear so you aren’t being as loud as it would seem to y’all in this moment]

Buster: [biting his lip so hard but the moan escapes nevertheless because that’s how into it he is and always will be, excuse us everyone]

Rio: [looking at him the most 🥺 ‘you’re the most attractive boy I have ever known’]

Buster: [saying her name back with all the feeling in the world because 🥺 likewise always kills him]

Rio: [‘we should’ve done this last year, and the year before…’ just going on and on, matching the time of your thrusts, forever and always is the vibe]

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