#i act like i’m planning on leaving for months rather than like - a few days to weeks lol

[clanoffelidae]

Logging off for a while. Just… really got taken by surprise by what happened.

The overall ‘thing’ that happened was nbd and is fine, if anything it’s somewhat relieving in a way bc it means I faced my fears but now I also get the barrier between me and those fears that NOT having faced them would have given me back; but the fact that someone saw a personal post about my honest fears and anxieties about a person deliberately left anonymous to not cause trouble and took that as evidence against me? And no one even questioned it?

No one thought, for one second, ‘hey, i wonder if there’s the possibility we’ve misunderstood this personal post by this stranger we don’t know, maybe we should ask them first?’

It was just immediately used to accuse me without even a chance to talk first?

That really fucking hurts and took me by surprise.

Like the rest of it’s whatever, we talked and it’s fine by me. I find it to be fairly excessive but it’s their call and whatever, if it’s genuinely causing that much stress, sure! I’m fine with that.

But the fact that I posted something that said ‘I’m afraid’ and it was immediately used to attack me was extremely hurtful and I just need some time away from all of it. I expected better.

I’ll be back at some point, probably fairly soon since I’m known to bounce back quick lol. But who knows. Idk. If you wanna talk shoot me a message and I’ll pop back on sometime later today and then again in a few days to give anyone who wants to chat my discord.

Be good you knuckleheads, and remember that my dms are always open if you ever need to talk about ANYTHING. If nothing else, I’ve got ears to listen, and I’m sure anyone who’s followed me for more than ten minutes knows I can talk your ear off about whatever if you need mindless chatter from some silly internet person with a lynx picture :) (or serious chatter! I’m good either way <3)

[parkerpeter24]

Fake dating because your family is pressuring you into a relationship with tasm Peter?

i didn’t write anything wintry in this? 😭

pairing: tasm!peter x reader

winter blurbs 3.0 ❄️

it was a simple dinner.

one dinner and everything would be over because you would avoid your family for the next two months on the grounds that college was keeping you super busy. it would be easier to tell them that you and peter broke up after

you always opted for the easier way out. why make your life harder. that was the exact reason you decided to ask peter parker to accompany you to the family dinner for your grandma’s 70th birthday. it was going to be a big celebration and rather than having your mom point out that each of your cousin brought someone well-qualified as their dates, you chose the easy way out and asked peter to be your “boyfriend” for one day.

“i will help you with history.” you pleaded, “i’ll cover your lunch for a week.” you bargained again when he seemed hesitant.

peter chuckled, “y/n, do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“i’ve seen you in drama class, peter. you can act. plus you’re smart. they’ll love you!” you sighed, missing the way peter’s cheek turned a shade of light pink.

“shouldn’t it be the opposite?” he raised an eyebrow.

“no, it’s better if they believe i broke your kind, innocent heart and left you.” he couldn’t help but laugh at the way you said that, “please?”

and that’s how you ended up here in your most expensive dress that ran all the way down to your feet, the green of the dress matching your earrings. your hair was neatly put up in a bun and when peter saw you, he forgot to breathe for a moment. you noticed his cheeks heat up this time and gave him a smile.

“uhm, ready to go then?” he mumbled, watching you move across the room to grab your clutch, your platform heels clicking against the floor. he wanted to compliment you on every little detail he noticed about you but all his words died on his tongue, considering how this all was supposed to be fake.

you gave him a nod and walked to him, linking your arm in his, “let’s go flaunt your acting skills.”

barely an hour into the event and you felt like drowning yourself in drinks. your mother and aunt won’t stop investigating you about your and peter’s story and you told them all kinds of crap, however it started to get tense once they cornered peter. he was a nervous wreck, you could tell. your hand was in his, his palm sweaty and cold as your mom kept asking him about his future plans.

the first chance you got to get away from them, you dragged the brunette inside the house, to your old room, “i’m so sorry they did that.”

your heavy sigh was met with silence for a few moments as you noticed peter looking around your room. he admired the sky blue walls and the desk in the corner of your room with all kinds of books, from your academic books to novels you’d read over your school years.

“just twenty minutes more and then we’ll leave.” you promised him, sitting on your bed. peter joined you shortly, sitting beside you. you looked over at him, “i’m really sorry.”

he gave you a pursed smile, “it’s fine. i mean, relatives can be annoying. i’m so glad my aunt doesn’t believe in taking me to our relatives’ place.”

you chuckled, feeling a little at ease, “thanks. i promise your lunch is on me for the whole week.”

he reciprocated your chuckle, “that’s not necessary, y/n.”

you gave him a look of confusion, “no, no. let me. it’s only fair.” you shrugged, “this was our deal. you acted well and i should do my part now.”

peter spoke up after a moment, “i’m not that good of an actor.” he shrugged and you gave him a smile.

“what?” you dragged it out, “you absolutely are!”

“well, maybe i wasn’t acting.” he chuckled and you could sense his nervousness returning.

“but you were really good… my family would never know we’re not dating.” you gave him a smile, “you were good.”

“i wasn’t that good.”

“why do you keep saying that?” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“because i wasn’t acting.” peter blurted out suddenly, making you halt, your eyes fixated on his face.

“you weren’t…?”

he gulped, realising there was no going back now, “i like you- have liked you… for a while now.” that pink colour returned to his cheeks, “and when you asked me to be your date to this party… i honestly didn’t need bribing.”

you chuckled at his nervousness and leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek, “you’re cute.” that didn’t help with peter’s reddening face. he watched you get up– his hand in yours now– and got up himself, “wanna ditch this lame party and go on a real date?”

masterlist

[vintagestarlight]

Couple's Trip

Summary: you and John take a trip for your anniversary and John has a very special question to ask

Pairing: John Price x gf!reader

Words:~ 2.0k

Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst(?), smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks :3), MDNI!!

A/N: so this has been sitting in my drafts for months and I finally finished it! Probably the longest fic I’ve written and I’m not sure how I feel about it(I feel like I’m better at writing fluff pieces rather than spicy ones maybe?)but let me know what yall think! I’m working on another Price fic and a Soap fic so stay tuned! :)

A/N: As always likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback of all types are welcome and my inbox is always open! Hope you guys enjoy!!

***beware of typos lol

Your mind wandered as you zipped your suitcase shut. John announced you were taking a trip for your anniversary and refused to tell you where. "You'll find out when we get there love," he said with a laugh after you pestered him to tell you. You walked downstairs and set your suitcase by the front door.

Through no fault of his own John wasn't always around for your anniversary. He always tried his best to to have his leave coincide but it didn't always happen. Usually you just had a nice dinner at home or John would surprise you with flowers; both of which you enjoyed. Needless to say you were shocked but excited when John told you he had a few weeks leave and had something big planned.

"Hey hon, remember to pack your toothbrush this time," you said, doublechecking to make sure you had everything. "You forget it every time," you mused. "I'm not going to forget my toothbrush dove. And I don't forget it every time," Price argued; he checked his suitcase and realized he forgot. He went to the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush to pack it away without telling you.

"Are you ready love?" Price asked. "I want to get going," You noticed your boyfriend seemed to be acting weird. He was very fidgety and it wasn't like him at all.

"You okay?" You asked. "You seem anxious to get going,"

"Yeah I'm fine love I just want to get there before dark," Price replied, taking the luggage outside. He loaded the suitcases into the back of the car and slipped his hand in his pocket. His fingers brushed against the velvet box resting in his pocket. "Well if we want to get there before dark we should get going," you called out and shut the door behind you, locking up the house.

You noticed the scenery started to change from hilly landscapes to dense woods. You started to get excited about what was at the end of your little road trip. The car turned on to a cobblestone stone driveway that led to a beautiful cabin overlooking a private lake surrounded by trees. "Oh John this is beautiful!" You said, looking out the window. "How did you know about this?" You asked. "An old mate of mine offered to let us use it for the week," he smiled watching you try and take it all in.

"This whole place is for us?" You asked, wondering if you could possibly see everything in just a few days. Price squeezed your thigh. "Just us," he said, parking the car. "Here love," Price stated. He fished in his pocket pulling out a set of keys. "Here's the keys to the cabin. Why don't you go take a look around, while I unload the car" he suggested.

You smiled and took the keys from him walking up to the front steps. You unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The living room was decorated in a way you would expect a cabin to be decorated. A large sofa facing a tv mounted on the wall, a large red rug in the middle of the floor, an end table with a lamp beside the couch, a tv stand, large fireplace, and a chandelier made from antlers adorned the living room. There was also a full kitchen to your right when you walked in.

You made your way to the stairs and found the master bedroom. A king size bed was the centerpiece of the room with a wool blanket draped over the end. The curtains were drawn and a soft light emanated from a lamp sitting on a bedside table.

Your footsteps were hushed by the soft carpet as you walked to the bathroom. The master bathroom was beautifully decorated in finished wood and white accents with a big claw foot tub; definitely big enough for both you and John. A window that faced the lake and woods let in a nice breeze and you couldn't help smiling, the fact it was yours for a few days finally setting in.

You came down the stairs just as John set down the last of your luggage. "So? What do you think?" Price asked, smiling as you wrapped your arms around him. "It's perfect John!” you smiled. "It's so beautiful," you planted a kiss on his lips.

Over the next few days the ring Price carried around burned a hole in his pocket. He tried finding the right time to ask you but everytime he tried he got nervous. He was the Captain of the most elite special forces team in the world and he couldn't even ask you to marry him. He sat at the edge of the dock, his fishing pole in his hands. He looked at the water waiting for a fish to bite and thinking about how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. If only I could just ask her. With a frustrated sigh, he got up to stretch his legs still holding the fishing pole.

These few days seemed like a dream to you. Getting to spend this time with John was something you didn't always get to have. You noticed your boyfriend's behavior was somewhat off. He was anxious and fidgety when he's normally the calm and self-assured one in the relationship. You saw him sitting at the dock fishing and you smiled to yourself. His behavior may have changed but him fishing certainly hadn't.

You opened the front door and started walking down the cobblestone path the sweet air warming your skin. You saw little firefly's glowing in the garden flying around. "Have you caught anything yet?" You asked, siting down in a lawn chair with him standing holding his fishing pole. John glanced over and saw you wearing one of his army green t shirts and a pair of sleep shorts; he felt his heart skip a beat and his cock swell embarassingly hard despite the spirited romp in the sheets a mere few hours prior. For some strange reason, it made his thoughts drift back to the little box still tucked away in his pocket; he carried it with him everywhere since they got here. He still couldn’t believe he had trouble asking you a simple four-worded question. It was almost laughable that something so simple had the Captain racked with anxiety. The man who was feared just as much as he was respected in the field. What if you said no? What if you didn’t actually love him and this was the push you needed to leave him? He grimaced as his thoughts got more and more out of control.

“No I think I missed most of them,” he muttered and turned his attention back to the water. You furrowed your eyebrows; something was up with your boyfriend. Not much fazed the 6’2” Brit so to see him so lost in thought worried you. You got to your feet and wrapped your arms around your lover; your hands dipped underneath the shirt he was wearing and felt the dusting of wiry chest hair. You ran your fingers down the strong expanse of his chest and abdomen following the happy trail that disappears into his waistband. “What’s wrong hon?” You asked. “Nothing is wrong I’m fine love,” He grumbled. “You’ve been acting strange for the past few days and that isn’t like you,” You persisted. "I want to know what’s bothering you. You know you can tell me anything right?” You reassured him. John shifted his attention from the still water to you and tried to think of what to say.

“Do you…still love me?” He asked with uncertainty. “Would I have let you put me in those positions if I didn’t?” You teased, referencing the previous bedroom escapades. Seeing his face didn’t change, you realized he was serious. “Of course I do. Why would you think I don’t?” You asked. “Well…sometimes I can’t help but think you’ll wake up one day and come to your senses and leave me for someone who actually deserves you,” He sighed. It felt foreign to him to talk about his feelings but you made him feel safe enough that he could. You always brought out the best of him and it was one of the many reasons he wanted to marry you. “John Price, I am never going to leave you,” You told him, placing your hands on his muttonchops, framing his face. You hated it when he talked so badly about himself. “I love you so much and you deserve everything,” You said, gazing up at him. “Even if I am a grumpy old man?” He asked. “Yes even though you’re a grumpy old man,” you teased. “Hey! Easy now,” He said in mock annoyance. You placed your lips on his, capturing him in a heated kiss. You felt him kiss you back and the tension from his shoulders melted away. He groaned and pressed your bodies together, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. He chuckled quietly when you whined as he pulled away. “In that case, there’s something I need to ask you,” He slipped his hand into his pocket while dropping down onto one knee. It’s now or never Price. He told himself. Your eyes went wide and filled with tears as you realized what was happening. “Y/N, will you marry me?” He asked, hoping, no silently begging, for you to say yes. “Yes! Yes I’ll marry you John Price,” you cried.

******

“FUCK!” You screamed. The headboard practically hit the wall with each harsh thrust from John. The room was filled with obscene yet erotic sound of panting and skin slapping against skin. “Fuck you’re taking me so well love,” John panted out, taking a glance down to where your cunt practically swallowed his cock. The sight drove him mad and he let out sounds he didn’t know he had in him. Those sounds he was making, the breathy groans and whimpers almost made you come then and there. “Fuck John!” You panted, feeling yourself get closer with every snap of John’s hips that hit perfectly inside you. John could feel you squeezing him like a vice and he knew you were close to coming. He grabbed the head board and pushed your legs to your chest to better plow into you and get as deep as he could into your pulsing cunt. “That’s it love,” He breathed out, his pace unrelenting. “Come for me love, come for me,”. John’s voice sounded strained as he focused on making you come before he did. You keened as you felt yourself go over the edge, coming on John’s cock. You squeezed him so tightly he swore he saw stars and came deep inside you, thick ropes of white staining the inside of your cunt. John rested his forehead against yours, strands of his hair sticking to the sweaty skin. You felt the sheer sheen of perspiration that had covered your own body begin to dry and cool off the longer the two of you stayed in each other’s embrace. "You okay love?” He asked, still out of breath as you both waited for your heart rates to slow. “More than okay,” you smiled lazily. Price gingerly pulled out his softened cock and walked to the bathroom, you admiring his bare ass as he walked away. John used a warm wash cloth to gently clean you up before grabbing a celebratory cigar and lighting it. You watched and admired his naked body as he poured himself a glass of scotch from the decanter sitting on the small table in the room before sliding back into bed with you.

You and John lay slightly tangled in the sheets with your head resting on his chest and his arm around you, relishing in that wonderful, hazy post sex daze. You couldn’t help but stare at the ring on your finger and smile; John was your fiancée and you could hardly believe it. “Careful now or I’ll think you love the ring more than me,” John’s deep baritone voice reverberating in his chest. “Well the ring is pretty great. And all I have is an old man,” you teased, looking up at him knowing he just proved himself to be anything but an old man. Your remark earned you a playful pinch on your ass. You squealed and laughed, swatting his chest playfully.

“Don’t worry Mr. Price I only have eyes for you my love,” You said, planting a kiss on his lips. "I love you,"

“I love you too soon-to-be Mrs. Price,”

[alatusprinz]

yan! genshin x darling with abandonment issues

characters : xiao , albedo , kaedehara kazuha x f! reader

warning : obsessive behavior, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, the very stereotypical traits found in yandere lovers, mention of planned/considering murder, manipulation, threatening, etc. reader has abandonment issues, insecurities, and is wary/distrustful about love and romantic partners in general. < fem pronouns used - bride etc >

諸行無常 - 世のすべてのものは、移り変わり、また生まれては消滅する運命を繰り返し、永遠に変わらないものはないということ。

Shogyou mujou - Impermanence. A phrase that means everything in the world repeats its destiny to to be born and to disappear, that there is no existence in the world that remains without changing . 

[ prior scenario ]

“hey…” you called out to your captor, finally working up the courage to talk to him like you would to anyone else. when your voice broke the silence in the sullen room, his gaze was immediately directed at you. 

“what is it?” you gulped at his curt yet obvious reply, still trying to keep your voice from wavering when you continued onto a subject you knew could upset them or worse. you were displeased by how much you were trembling at the thought, even when there was not an ounce of wrath evident in his voice or face as of present.

in truth, it took you however long you imagine to even work out the confidence to demand such inquiry, it could’ve been days, weeks or even more. you couldn’t have known exactly how long- after all, it’s been a paradox in time since the cursed moment you stepped foot into his lair. you reckon it’s been quite a few months in captivity if not a year already. 

“what do you really want from me, keeping me here?” you saw him open his mouth to respond, but you immediately continued without giving him or yourself time. you feared you would lose your will to speak otherwise, despite having repeated the same question in your mind millions of times. 

“so now you have me in this cramped room at all times within your sight. i barely move or talk… i’m almost kept like… a doll here.” you kept your eyes on him for any chances of extreme anger or outburst while resuming. 

“you see, people lose interest. as time passes, your former shiny doll will always lose its gleam and a new doll will catch your eye. when someone learns a song they adore on zither or harp it won’t matter, the song feels less special once you’ve mastered the flow and rhythm so it belongs to you completely- when the song doesn’t have anything new to offer anymore. you could buy anything and make it your possession, but it will always bore you in the end. it’s a matter of time.” his face remained as blank as ever, still listening carefully to your uncharacteristically melancholic statement today. 

“love that comes from mere fascination or ownership… won’t last.” 

so let me go while you still cherish me. before you decide to abandon me like a used toy. you were ashamed to admit your original motivation of asking him to let you go won’t leave your mouth. 

you would rather bite your tongue and die this very instant than admit to him why you were asking this question after all this time. you tried and tried to repress your feelings, the growing feeling inside your chest that is slowly turning into fondness and familiarity instead of sheer disgust and loathe as you should be feeling. it doesn’t make sense- he robbed you of your everything. everything you learned to be a part of your mundane life, every routine and passion you’ve had (you barely even remember what life was before, but you imagine you could’ve had… those things that made you human.) disappeared like dandelion pappus in the wind. you try, you look at his godforsaken actions he veil and glorify as an act of love, you scoff and ignore and fight with all your will not to bend into his desires as easily. but the crawling, sinking realization you were aware from a while ago ate away at what little left from your pride each moment past. 

you couldn’t pretend like everything was normal anymore, not when every inch of your body, every thought surrounding your brain was his love. you knew your true feelings for your captor now. but you couldn’t possibly unravel the truth he oh-so desperately wants- needs to hear. in truth, you felt yourself fall deeper for his wicked charm every day. it made you physically sick but the way he loved you, the way he touched you and caressed your soul, his suffocating care for you felt familiar now, you craved him, you yearned for his impudence in all its glory, the gut wrenchingly familiar scent of his when you awoke from nightmares. you searched for him, you yearned his presence when he wasn’t around and you were positive he knew it. after all, he was the one who trained your body and soul to his perfection- carved your being, to the point you seemed to be the one chasing him at this point in your mind, the only space you have left to you that's private.

it scared you to bits whenever you thought of revealing your feelings. what if he only liked the thrill of your struggles? what if he only wanted the chase? what if he grew tired of you soon now that you’re all boring and “his”? 

this is how your thoughts finally manifested itself into a question, to test the waters. 

he finally responded. 

and it wasn’t at all what you had expected. 

xiao ( alatus) .

“how absurd.” xiao really could not understand the worries of you mortals. he could swear to the seven archons that he tried, he had asked around, he read words on papers you call “books” that seemingly guide you when you’re lost, (worthless if you ask him, since it didn’t guide him when he needed it the most with you),  he’s spent time observing countless mortals just so he could get a grip on how your restless mind works.

it’s like you seem to confuse him more and more as time passes by, and that was quite the opposite of what he desired. 

“what makes you believe you are as worthless as physical objects?” xiao found no reason in mincing his words, your comparison made him offended, if anything. how could you possibly imagine thinking of yourself as the same value of an inanimate object, or even a melody that’s shared between hundreds or thousands at the same time? the idea of you being shared between countless mortals and being another’s “property” left not only a bitter taste in his mouth, but a dangerous, lingering urge to choose destruction.

the general yaksha was no fool to his vow, he was never to harm or terminate mortals, let alone liyue inhabitants. the lord of geo and his contract would not allow. however, a small voice at the back of his voice whispered- he was a guardian yaksha. he was known, a living legend amongst the nationals, surely nobody would dare stand against an Adepti’s desire. after all, mortals were weak and easily manipulated. he could make sure anyone stay away within a minute of a conversation or a… threatening action. and as much as he does not wish to sever his vows to the lord of geo, he certainly held the nonpacifict solution should the circumstances demand. 

but... keeping you here, away from those who would bring you harm protects both you, his angel and his vow to avoid harming mortals, don't they? it was the perfect solution.

he thought he had made it clear by now- that he adored you more than anything, that never once in his painfully long existence he had laid his eyes on anything, anyone more sublime than you. and your benevolence gave him the bliss of peace he desperately needed, he basked in your glory, your warmth on the iciest nights he was cursed to spend in solitude.

you saved him- you were xiao’s everything. if you were not to remain his oasis, what more could his sorry existence serve for? for what purpose would the vigilant yaksha continue his never-ending agony for, if not for your heavenly smile? he had never required, or wanted words of gratitude before, he upheld his vows to perfection, well aware that he was an entity destined to live in the shadows, just so the light could shine brighter. however, neither of you knew that it would lead to… this, the one night that you recognized him as the vigilant yaksha where you coincidentally entwined your red strings of fate on Mt. Hulao. (god knows how or why you had wandered into the space meant for the adepti, you truly had no memory of the life before him at this moment, no matter how you tried to reminisce).

you were all Alatus had, all he has ever wanted. his hands were stained crimson red for eternity, but you, he would bring celestia to ruin, defy every archon’s wrath, shield you in his arms and face the eye of the storm if that’s what you desired. to keep your hands clean, and your soul stainless for he was already tarnished beyond repair. the least he could do was protect you, his one and only, from the dirtiest parts of the world.

one whisper from your tender lips, and he would be gone, swift as the wind for his newest mission, mind filled with your loving smile. 

“i’ve gave you my word, have i not?” xiao continued, hoping for your understanding behind his stone-cold expression you couldn’t have unraveled. 

“...” you remained silent, to his displeasure, he was forced to continue. you and your mortal perplexity. 

“i’ve sworn to protect you. an oath is an oath, (name). i will remain by your side. vows are to be upheld in perpetuity.” xiao’s monotone voice sounded as still as ever despite his rather melancholic words. 

you, on the other hand, weren’t fully convinced. rather, you didn’t allow yourself to be soothed of your worries precisely because of his nonchalant behavior. there was no way he’d stay… this way for eternity. the perpetuity he speaks of will somehow find its end, your mind convinced.

after all… he offered you his protection, his company and his presence. not… not love. he had never once mentioned the word ‘love’ in your presence, or perhaps ever in his couple millenia of existence had he ever even let the heavy word drop from his lips. and you both knew it was perhaps for a good reason. 

to both of your surprise, he finally learns of your worries when you kept your silence with a frown.  

with a subtle sigh, Alatus approached you carefully as he always did, as if not to scare you away. (as if you could outrun the yaksha, as if your mind would even let you at this point.). he sat down next to you on your cold bed, then reached out to place his trembling hand on yours.

you might not know, but that’s the only act of intimacy he’s aware of to you humans. you couldn’t help but stare at his gloved hands on yours, the leather-like material sinking on your skin and leaving a heavy sensation with absolutely no trace of warmth. in fact, you had never felt much heat from his body before if your memory serves. 

except for the warmth you felt right now, listening to his careful words meant to soothe your concerns. it was almost enough to make you forget the absence of sunlight, the last time you had a deep breath of the fresh morning dew from liyue harbor, the sounds of the city locals chatting away in peace. almost enough to make you forget why you were here to begin with. 

“... if my promise isn’t enough… tell me what to do.” you couldn’t mask your surprise when you heard his words. his hand finally relaxed, yet still cold as ever. 

“ephemeral circumstances. perpetual agony. that’s all i have ever known.” xiao couldn’t believe how uncharacteristically chatty you forced him to be. but if his mundane words could soothe your bitter expression, there was nothing he was unwilling to do. 

“諸行無常. - all worldly existences are impermanent.” 

“...but my oath is eternal. i will spend a millenia… an immortal lifetime proving it to you.” 

“just speak my name. i will keep you…” he wanted to say happy, he wanted to promise you a joyful life. he wanted to say he would love you... but he was a cursed being, doomed with the vexation of the millions that were slain by his bloodied hands. 

“i will keep you safe.” he retracted his arm after his final promise to you, and disappeared without a trace. suddenly, the sullen room looked even darker than you remembered. as if the darkness was all you’ve ever known. 

and yet again, the word you desired- no promise of ‘love’ was mentioned. 

albedo ( kreideprinz ) .

“so it makes you insecure.” you flinched at his naturally curt reply, cutting through where it hurts the most. it was such a familiar answer from albedo, analyzing even verbal communication with utmost composure and sharp perception. his teal eyes appeared to be shining in the dimly lit room, ice-cold stare almost pinning you down like on a leash. 

“you’re struggling with feelings of insecurity and it’s manifesting itself into an apprehensive behavior because you feel like i’d get tired of you once the halo effect wears off.” he continued, all while sitting perfectly still, his posture and gaze remaining as absolute and subtly confident as ever. he had almost never been incorrect about his analysis on you, it’s almost eerie. anything he put his mind to and observed, experimented, hypothesized and concluded, it was more or less on point. and this time too, he didn’t fail to notice your ulterior hidden worries. 

the worst part? you were positive he was already well aware of your true feelings behind your distant exterior. after all, he had never been fooled by your acting, never once. he knew you too well to fall for it, and it made you wonder just how long he had observed you before your captivity. 

“it seems accurate and human of you to have such concerns. after all, the vast population of mankind seems to have a taste for unfaithfulness. enough to make others spend the rest of their existence cowering in fear of betrayal.” your eyebrows furrowed at his unwelcome analysis on your mindset, reading your deepest fears like an open book on his worn out wooden alchemy table. 

“but may i remind you, i am not deeply associated with the majority of humanity to begin with, (name). i’d appreciate if you didn’t see me in the same light as the rest.” his stable voice always tricked your sorry mind into believing the atmosphere was normal and calm. but unfortunately, ticking off the kreideprinz was one of the things you noted to never do again. you could thank your gods that he doesn’t seem too irritated from what you could see. 

“humans are an enigma. physical objects and intellectual creations may have its worth hidden in correlation to who possesses them. however, i do believe i don’t… own you.”

the room was immediately silent after his last statement, all you could hear was your heart thumping loudly in your ear, head feeling heavier on your shoulders each second that passed by. he thinks he doesn’t own you? that was the last phrase you thought you would hear from him. 

“of course i’d like to own your heart, that’s what lovers are.” what we are - both of you knew that was his true intention behind his somewhat vague wording. “is that what you wish to hear from me, dear? that i love you.” his monotone declaration of “love” sent a wave of warmth, and cowering fear to the pit of your stomach. for one, it certainly was what you desperately craved to hear from the chalk prince. you were so, so close to giving into his sweet temptation, his reserved nature, his teal eyes that seem to only look at you, and his cold, yet addictive touch of hands, caressing you like you were the only existence that he cared about.

yet, his cold tone when he confessed the words of love weighed heavy at the back of your mind, how monotone, and… void he sounded. do people usually sound so laid back when speaking such words? you couldn’t know, you couldn’t remember. but you had a feeling it wasn’t quite the case, that he sounded too empty, his promise sounded heavy, yet desolate at the same time. that your heart felt too burdened from his love, not blissful. but if that were the case, albedo was prepared to mold your tastes until you preferred his weighty love, bitter and cold on your tongue. he'd make sure to train you until all you ever crave is his taste.

“... i love you as much as an artificial being could mimic the humane emotion of love, dearest.” he concluded the conversation coolly and with dignity like he always did, he always got the last word. after all, what he wants goes. 

if you happen to disobey… well, let’s just say he was good at getting what he wanted. should he use honey-sweet words, alluring you in, threats, slight or considerable amount of pain and punishment, or make you face a situated scenario that would inevitably push you towards him…

in the end, albedo would have you. - that’s what he had concluded. after all, once again - what he wants, goes. 

kaedehara kazuha .

the menacing, yet melodic giggle he responded with sharpened your senses. you never knew what to expect from him, he could easily shatter your soul and courage with one look of his eyes if that was what his mockingly poetic love demanded of him. 

“love, you never cease to amaze me.” as expected of the bride, the distinguished lady of the great kaedehara clan he intended to continue. every step you take, every sway of your hair in the end, the rounin felt himself fall deeper for your charm, his one and only perfect love. you were absolutely perfect, you had to be. (you were his, after all.)

he approached you with an intimidatingly slow pace, placed his hand on the top of your head with seemingly great delicacy. the weight of his hand on your head seemed like it was pushing you down, further until you were at his feet- at his complete and eternal mercy. in one way, it was the perfect place for you, his docile loving darling. it should come natural for lovers to please and make one another happy. it should come as easy as breathing to both you and him, after all, he himself was at your feet. why shouldn’t you share the same sentiment, the same desire? he would lay down his life, lay down his everything and more. that’s what love is, existing in this cruel world in the name of your lover. 

at least according to what he carved in your mind which you’ve soon learned to accept. 

“have i ever once, made you feel unloved or unworthy?...” his hand travelled down, slowly and gently caressing the back of your head, the side of your neck, and lingered at the same spot while feeling your beating heart. (the heart that beats for him - the sinister thought brought a pleased smile to his lips. ) the silent confidence in his statement sent shivers down your spine. of course he was aware, he had never once denied you of your needs, everything except your freedom was in the palm of your hands. with one whisper of your voice, kazuha would carve out his heart, display it on a platter. he would sacrifice his last breath to caress your lips one last time, excarnate his own being and wrap his warm skin around your shivering body if you were cold. going to extreme length to keep you, his angel dove by his side, is an absolute necessity for him. 

and the ugly truth was, he expected the exact same from you. 

“have i ever left you unsatisfied?” he continued, placing his hands around your neck, not squeezing, but with just enough force of grip for your entire body to tense up in fight-or-flight instinct. too bad neither was an option. 

“like i said, you might get bored-” to your surprise, your speech was interrupted. 

“boredom is not something associated with true love, my dearest. i can promise you that.” his stable and calm voice never once wavered, and said to you with utmost certainty, almost to the point you allowed yourself to believe the honey-sweet temptation of love he presented you with. 

“and if my verbal promise does not suffice…” finally, he wrapped his arms around you, and buried his face into your neck. with a sigh of happiness leaving his lips, he let out a low giggle near your ear. 

“i’ll prove it until the rest of my life, until you believe in my love.”

until you believe me - he whispered, placing a sickeningly tender kiss on your neck. the sensation of his alluring kiss lingered on your shivering skin, your mind left blank and tempted. after all, kazuha’ forte was words. he could spin you around like a marionette, should he want. 

and that’s what he intended to do. keep, worship and adore his beloved doll, lover for all eternity. 

.

[am-i-interrupting]

Stalking Shadows | Vox x Alastor’s Child— OATSH

Summary: Alastor has a problem with your choice in company. You have a problem with his problem.

For @aliceneedsphalis or somewhat inspired by one of their prompts.

“Oh, he’s not that bad,” you said.

You’d been listening to your father for the last couple minutes, maybe even an hour, rant about how Vox’s new company was beginning to take away listeners or rather, they were selling more televisions than radios now.

“Oh, yes, people muddling their brains into mush is something to be unconcerned about,” Alastor said, sarcasm coating his every word.

You have him a deadpanned look before rolling your eyes. “It’s not that and you know it. People just like seeing things that they ain’t ever—“

“Have never,” he corrected.

“—seen before. What’s the big difference between watching something on a television and going to a theater?” you asked. “People are just watching other people act out a story.”

“It’s not the same and you know it,” he said, spitting your words back at you. “Going to the theater means leaving the comforts of home, watching a creation of a story that may be said word for word the same but will always be played out differently. The television encourages sinking further into your home, grounding you to a spot that you can’t leave lest you miss something and will always be the same. At least with the radio, you can enjoy it from any place.”

“Uh-huh? And you’re sure there’s not something else going on?” you asked.

Alastor was prone to monologuing when in the comforts of either of your homes but even this had been excessive. His monologues were normally more spaced out than this.

It’d been nearly a year since Vox came into your afterlife and your father had been none too pleased. In a way, you understood but in others you didn’t.

Yes, Vox was taking up some of your time. You went out together to walk the town, get dinner, go to random places or you’d set him up on meetings. However, your time had not been solely taken up by Vox. You saw him planned in person perhaps once a week. Outside of that, you didn’t see him much at all. You still saw your father nearly the same amount. It honestly felt hypocritical of him to complain without actually complaining when at least you told him where you were going. He did not always give you the same courtesy and disappeared for days if not weeks at a time far more often than you’d like.

“What else would there be?” he asked.

You grabbed his hand and used it to wrap his arm around your shoulders as you gave him a hug from his side, both arms around his waist.

“I know you don’t like when things change without your permission—“

“Which is precisely what this is.”

“—but I had a life without you in it. It’s not your fault that you weren’t there for it and I don’t blame you for not being there. But, I did have to learn how to be happy without you. That doesn’t mean I’m not happy with you and it doesn’t mean that I want you to go away. However, Vox was one of those people I found happiness with. A lot of happiness, so just don’t be so hard on him, please. You don’t have to like him, just stop talking like you want to kill him. Okay?”

Silence.

You squeezed Alastor’s torso harder and leaned back, pulling him with you. “Okay?” you asked again.

“I will make an attempt,” he said, sounding like it hurt him to get the words out.

You released him. “That’s all I want.” You placed your hat on your head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going.”

“And where to exactly?”

Just this once you decided to give your father a taste of his own medicine. “Out.”

You left the house briskly. You had few big plans for the day. You mostly just had small errands. A couple things some of your contracted souls had asked for and not much more.

You went to Trinket’s home to repair her roof, damaged from a recent chase that spanned several districts. You visited Fable and brought them lunch as they were still grieving from the extermination passed a few months ago now but they still didn’t smile like they used to.

You had noticed several times a movement of shadow as you walked and specifically chose a very well lit pathway as a result to at least make it harder for him to spy out of spite.

That is, of course, when you caught site of Vox. He was dressed in a blue, short sleeved button up with a belt that matched and black pants. He looked very. . . relaxed as he strode through the streets of your district.

Of course, not everyone who lived in your territory was contracted to you and while he was one of them, it was nice to see him like this.

Then he saw you and a smile stretched across his face. You waved at him. He came over.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” he said.

“I’ll say it’s a bit ironic that I see you so soon as hearing so much about you,” you replied.

“Well, I hope they were good things.”

“Coming from my father? Never, but he rarely has good things to say about anyone so don’t take it personally,” you told him.

“Ah, still hesitant?”

“Resistant is the word I’d use. He’s not much of a sharer.”

“Unfortunate for him, neither am I but for you, I’ll make an exception.” He smiled more when you rolled your eyes. “May I accompany you wherever it is you’re going?”

You caught a glimpse of a moving shadow. Light spots that looked to close to eyes over his shoulder. Fine, you could be petty as well but you were going to say yes either way.

“Please. I don’t believe you’ve met Ziggy yet unless you’ve been seeing others behind my back,” you said.

“I would never dream of it.”

The two of you began to walk side by side together. You used the swinging of your hands to hide the gesture that caused the shadow to be swept away with the wind.

[abiiors]

Just Let Me // M.H.

I got so carried away with this, my god. It’s best friends to lovers??? (read: idiots to maybe lovers). I am so proud of how this turned out and I genuinely hope you like it &lt;3 (reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated)

I’ve kinda tried an omniscient POV in this so I hope it works. It’s mostly angst but there’s a happy-ish end. A positive one at least.

WC: 3.2k (my longest yet)

Warnings - Reader is struggling with mental health, a whole lot of crying in this one, yelling too. And quite a lot of swearing

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Drabbles

Your phone buzzes with another notification in your hands and you stifle another groan. That makes it ten now. 

All you want to do is put on the saddest movie you can find, have a good cry about your day, week, month and then curl up under a million weighted blankets. You simply want to forget about your life for just an hour or two but Matty (or rather, fate) has different plans.

Normally, when he sends you useless memes and silly reels, you make sure to reply to all of them. You even send him stupid stuff in return but all you’ve managed today is to leave him on read. 

It takes too much energy to open DMs, to respond to them—the energy that you simply do not have today. It’s one of those days. Lately, it’s always one of those days. They might as well be the norm now. 

Are you ignoring me now?

His message makes your phone buzz again and you wonder if flushing it down the toilet is a good idea. 

Are you ignoring him? No, yes, maybe a little. But only because he’s just so intuitive when it comes to you. You sigh, open the text chain and start typing up a response. But it’s already too late. 

Your phone is buzzing again; this time with an incoming call. 

You consider pressing decline or just letting it go to voicemail but he won’t give up until he’s sure he hasn’t done another stupid thing to make you mad. So you simply send a quick prayer out into the universe and press Accept. 

‘Hello…’ you try so hard to make your voice sound as neutral as possible. But it cracks on the last syllable anyway.

There’s a small pause at the other end of the line and you know he’s analysing that voice break. The sound in the background slowly grows distant and fades away as you realise that he’s moved to some quieter location. 

‘So…’ he hesitates a bit and you can instantly sense the suspicion in that one tiny word. ‘Are you home?’

‘Yeah,’ you quietly try to clear your throat, ‘yeah, just got in.’

‘And how was your day?’

Shitty! 

‘It was fine,’ you move around a few things on the dresser, hope that the noise is enough to distract him from the shift in your tone. But he’s smarter than you give him credit for. 

‘You’re lying to me.’ It’s not a question, it’s a statement. 

‘I’m not—’

‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he interrupts, ‘I am not as stupid as you think I am.’

‘You sure about that?’ you try lamely but it lacks any of the usual laughter in your voice. 

‘Rude! And don’t even try that with me right now,’ his voice holds a rare sternness. It’s not that he’s wrong. He did correctly call you out on that lie. The fact that you’ve known each other for close to seven years now makes it so much harder to lie to him. You contemplate dropping the act. You contemplate telling him everything, all about how life has been so difficult to handle lately; how you constantly feel like you’ve bit off more than you can chew. 

But he’s so busy… And you don’t want to trouble him. 

Their new album is set to release in just a bit over a month and there are a plethora of last-minute things to do; thousands of special edition CDs to sign and finalising the last details of various interviews, finalising the details of the tours. 

‘I’m just a bit more tired than usual, I promise you,’ you bite your lip to keep it from wobbling and hope that it’s enough to convince him. 

‘I’ll see you in a bit.’ There’s no protesting the finality in his tone. Not like you have the chance to because he instantly hangs up after that. 

As much as it is not his fault, it feels like this phone call has leached out the last of your energy. All you want to do is curl up in a ball on the hardwood floor. So that’s exactly what you do. Five minutes turn to ten, turn to fifteen until you lose track of time. Your eyes burn from all the unshed tears and it’s hard to keep them open anymore but you cannot stop staring at the little pink stain on the rug. 

You remember how Matty messed around your house that summer, spilt nail polish on your (then) new rug. How you painted his nails in all the neon colours you owned as revenge. You remember him saying how the stain was his way of making sure you’d never forget about him. 

As if…

A few sounds manage to break through the buzzing in your ears. There’s the sound of tyres pulling in your driveway, the sound of a car door opening and closing. And at last, the jangling of keys as someone tries to open your front door. 

You instantly know who it is. You’ve had each other’s house keys for a good few years now and today, for the first time, you wish he didn’t have them. You wish he wasn’t here at all. You wish you had never picked up his call. 

In a minute, he’s going to walk in here and find you curled up on the floor like a lunatic. He’s going to think you’ve finally lost the last shred of sanity. 

In a minute, you’re going to look at him and find him looking back at you with barely concealed pity. 

In a minute he’s—

‘What…’ he interrupts your train of thought and you make the barest of effort to peek at him through the curtain of hair that’s fallen over your face.

Matty’s not alone; or rather, he’s not empty-handed. He’s holding the prettiest bunch of daisies you’ve ever seen as well as a giant Tesco bag. You don’t have to ask him to know that he’s bought all your favourite junk food and that sugary ice tea you love so much. You also hear a few wine bottles clinking in there. 

It’s too much, all of it. He’s being so considerate, so nice. And you have no strength left in you tonight to conceal the feelings that bubble up in the face of this niceness. It’s supposed to be priceless, this gesture yet all it manages to do is be the last fucking straw. 

The restraint snaps and your eyes flood with tears and now they can’t stop flooding with tears. When before your eyes burned from unshed tears, now they can’t stop shedding them. And you cannot control the gasps and sobs that are being torn out of you. 

He swears softly and then chucks everything in his hands on the settee. He wastes no time running to you, wrapping his arms around you as he tries to pull you into a sitting position.

‘Sweetheart, hey,’ he’s trying to be soothing which only makes you cry harder. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’

‘I just got in,’ you blubber through the tears. It’s such a shitty excuse too but he doesn’t push it. 

‘I’m here,’ he says; repeats it over and over again like a mantra. 

His fingers caress your spine softly, almost lovingly but you refuse to think of it that way. What’s the point in romanticising simple comfort when it will only lead to more heartbreak?

‘Talk to me,’ he urges after a bit. 

‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ you shrug your shoulders, look anywhere but at him. ‘Everything is a bit overwhelming lately, that’s all.’

He softly touches your chin, tries to make you look at him but you won’t budge. 

‘You’re doing it again…’ 

‘Doing what again?’ If playing dumb is what gets him off your back then so be it. 

‘This…’ you see him point at you from your peripheral vision. ‘You’re pretending like it’s not a big deal.’

‘That’s because it’s not a big deal,’ you mumble. Your eyes snag on the photo on the wall. It’s Matty and Hann pointing at some graffiti on the Berlin Wall and making goofy faces and it almost makes you smile. You have fond memories of this trip, maybe even the last time you felt truly happy. 

His gaze follows yours and rests on the photograph. 

‘Remember how you kept butchering the lyrics to 99 Luftballons?’ The smile in his voice is evident and you know he’s thinking of the same memories that you are. 

‘I didn’t butcher them!’ you say begrudgingly. In truth, you absolutely did but that was a carefree version of you. That was a different person who did not mind screaming the wrong lyrics at the top of their lungs, who laughed at the stupidest of jokes and cracked even worse ones. 

‘I haven’t heard you sing in a long time,’ he confesses. 

‘I just haven’t found scream-worthy songs in a long time,’ you deflect.

He shakes his head because he realises that you’re intent on being difficult tonight. He has to take a different approach to this.

‘Let’s go back,’ he suggests, ‘maybe even go to Italy this time.’

It’s such a ludicrous suggestion really that you snap your gaze back at him. He’s looking right at you, he’s never stopped looking right at you. 

‘What’s the point in making these plans,’ you laugh bitterly, ‘you’ll be gone in a month anyway.’

‘Then come with me.’

He says it so softly that you’re unsure if he even said it in the first place. He seems to come to the same realisation because he clears his throat. 

‘Come with me.’

Go with him…

‘You think it’s so easy,’ you scoff and wipe at your eyes furiously.

‘Isn’t it?’

It’s these two simple words that cut through all your barely-there calm. 

Isn’t it? 

Isn’t it?

‘And what about my job? My responsibilities? I can’t just run from everything!’ You muster up all the strength left in you as you yell at him. 

It’s as if it has opened up a dam inside you and now you can’t stop the flood of words. 

‘Not all of us have the luxury of doing what we love and travelling and fucking around. Some of us have to SURVIVE! Not all of us can just pause everything at the drop of a fucking hat.’

By the time you’re done, you’re sobbing so hard that you’re certain your heart’s about to crack in two. Any minute now…

But then his warm hands are grabbing your face. ‘Hey, hey,’ he’s whispering, forcing you to look at him, ‘hey, I need you to calm down a bit okay? Okay?’

The tears make his face look blurry and unclear but the concern in his voice is unmistakable. You can almost imagine the deep crease between his brows right now; how his mouth would be tilted downward. Still, the sobs don’t subside. 

‘Please, please,’ he’s begging almost, ‘will you take some deep breaths for me? Please…’

You are trying, you have been trying. All this time you have only been trying to make it from one deep breath to the next. 

‘Please…’ his voice cracks.

Gently, so gently he picks up your hand in his, observes the red half-moons formed on the palm because of how hard you’ve been digging your nails into it, and swipes a thumb over it. It takes him a second or two before he manages to control the tremble in his own hands. It’s only when you touch the soft cotton of his t-shirt, that you realise that he’s holding your hand over his heart. 

The fog clears just a smidge as you feel his strong heartbeat under your palm. Compared to his, yours feels like a galloping horse. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you sob once you’ve come to your senses. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’

‘Stop…’

‘I know you work hard,’ you close your eyes tightly, let a few more tears escape, ‘I know your job isn’t easy.’

‘It’s not,’ he confirms. ‘I know you think I’ve no reason to complain.’

‘You’re misunderstanding me—’

‘And I know I’m so lucky to be doing what I do,’ he continues as if you haven’t spoken at all. 

‘That’s not—’ 

‘And I know you take your responsibilities much more seriously than I do…’

‘Listen to me—’ you try to interrupt again but he’s having none of it. 

‘No, you listen to me. Take a sabbatical, quit your fucking job for all I care. It’s not making you happy, it’s never made you happy. I’ll take care of you. You know I will.’

You roll your eyes and try not to scoff at his words but that just fuels him even more. 

‘Fuck, why won’t you let me! You took care of me when I needed it the most or have you forgotten about that? Have you forgotten how you held my hand as I checked into rehab?’

His voice chokes on the last word but he does not waver, he never wavers. 

‘Let me b—fuck, let me be there for you,’ he pleads. 

You grasp at straws, try to come up with even one reason why he shouldn’t be here right now. 

‘You already have a million other things to take care of.’

‘And they are all secondary to you.’ He wastes no time in answering. All this time that you’ve spent not looking at him, all that resolve crumbles in an instant as you finally turn to him. His hand twitches to wipe away the few tears that have slipped out but he stays put.

‘Please stop…’ you whisper—beg—through the lump in your throat. ‘Please stop saying things like that.’

‘And why should I?’ he challenges. 

Because you’re only saying them to make me feel better.

Because you just want this pity party to end. 

Because you are just fulfilling your obligation as my friend…

‘Because you don’t mean them…’ you breathe. 

You might as well have slapped him in the face. That’s how hard he flinches away. In fact, he would much rather you slap him in the face than hear you accuse him of that. 

Your entire body goes cold when he stands up, tries to put distance between you. And you have to grab the arm of the settee to make yourself get up. The spot on the floor where you were curled up should have been warm by now. Instead, it feels ice cold. 

‘I don’t mean them?’ His voice is so soft, so lifeless.

‘No, that’s not what I mean—’

‘You think I’m here to score some brownie points?’

He’s getting riled up now. That was the last straw for him and now you’ve finally managed to step over the boundary. You’ve finally crossed that invisible line.

‘Tell me why I’m here,’ he demands. 

‘I don’t—’

‘I need you to tell me why you think I’m here.’

‘Because you’re my fr—’

‘Don’t you fucking say that word,’ he shouts, ‘Don’t you dare say that word.’

You feel hollow sitting there; like a husk of a person. There’s no point to this conversation anymore but he’s not giving up. 

‘Ask me why I’m here,’ he shouts again and this time you can’t hold it in any longer. 

Your head pounds inside your skull and your patience is wearing thin. You’ve tried apologising, you’ve tried deflecting but nothing has worked. 

‘Fuck!’ you yell back, ‘Why ARE you here?’

‘BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU!’ 

The silence that follows is the loudest silence you’ve ever heard.

He staggers back—eyes wide and mouth agape—and almost crashes into your TV. He can’t believe he’s just let that slip out. That was supposed to be his one secret.

And you can’t ignore the way your heart simply stops. 

Because how long have you waited for him to say those words? How long have you imagined whispered I love yous in the dead of the night in Matty’s voice? How long have you yearned?

He’s made up his mind now. He can’t take the words back, he doesn’t want to take them back so he squares his shoulders and looks you dead in the eyes.

‘Because I fucking love you, okay?’

This silent confession, a confirmation that the first one was not a fluke, nearly brings you to your knees. You beg your legs to hold you up as you take a small step toward him. 

‘You do?’ 

‘I have been in love with you for as long as I have known you.’ The exasperation in his voice is clear, so is the undercurrent of regret. 

For as long as I’ve known you…

Seven years…

Seven years that you could have had with him

‘It’s okay if you…’ he has to swallow a few times to stop himself from getting choked up. He has to blink a few times. ‘It’s okay if you don’t feel the same.’

Words cannot do justice to what you feel. 

Seven years…

This evening has gone from difficult to damn near impossible and there’s simply not enough air in the room. 

Seven years that you’ve wasted, you can’t let yourself waste another second. 

You stagger toward him and he’s instantly there to catch you, to hold you so close. He wastes no time tilting your chin up because he will die if he doesn’t do it now. And he will never find peace if he doesn’t know the taste of your lips. 

This kiss is unlike any other you’ve ever had in your life. There’s no elegance to it, no softness. Your teeth clash against each other multiple times in the first few seconds. It tastes like tears and stale cigarettes. It tastes like longing and yearning and hope. Best of all…it tastes like him

And it is, without a doubt, the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life. 

It’s the best because it’s him. It’s always been him and now you finally get to have him.

‘I’m an idiot,’ you mumble against his lips. 

‘A proper imbecile,’ he confirms and you slap his arm lightly. 

‘You’re an idiot too!’

‘At least I had the courage to confess,’ he challenges.

You bury your face in his chest, breathe in his familiar scent, listen to his racing heart to calm yours down. Time is irrelevant in this moment. It could have been aeons or it could have been seconds, the only thing that truly matters is his body pressed up against yours. 

He knows he’s probably holding you tighter than he should but he’s held himself together—all alone—for so long that if he lets go now, he will crumble.  

‘So what happens now?’ you speak into the silence that surrounds you. 

‘Now I spend a lifetime making up for the last seven years.’ 

There’s no hesitation there, only determination. 

A fresh wave of tears gathers in your eyes. You know he can feel them dampening his t-shirt but he simply holds you tighter. 

‘I’ve got you, my love,’ he shushes, starts rocking back and forth and presses his lips to your hair, ‘I’ve always got you. And I’m never letting go.’

---

(If you caught the one lyric reference, ilysm)

[hollysoda]

Okay so I know that totk turned one year old a couple of days ago but I was away for the weekend and didn’t get a chance to post something about it. Now I’m home again, I think I wanna just put some thoughts down

Firstly, I still love totk. It was a really fun game and had just as much fun playing through it complete blind as I did playing botw with only a loose knowledge of the game. In fact, I enjoyed it more than botw. Maybe it was because I knew more about Zelda than what I did back in September 2022 when I first played botw, or maybe it was because I could see the improvements they made when it came to dungeons and overall exploration. For at least six months totk was my favourite zelda game. Now, a year on, it isn’t.

I think on reflection totk is a very flawed game. While it is technically genius, story-wise it’s incredibly weak, possibly the weakest in the entire franchise. Here are a few points worth mentioning:

Why bother bringing back Ganondorf if he isn’t going to have any real motive? Is there a reason why he’s fighting with Rauru and seeking his own secret stone, or is he just doing it for funsies? Part of the reason why Wind Waker Ganondorf is so good is because he has a strong and clear motive. Without any motive, totk Ganondorf just feels like an enemy rather than a main antagonist

The main thing that drives forward a story is a theme to take away from it. Breath of the Wild’s theme was exploration and lost memories, Skyward Sword’s theme was loyalty and/or devotion, but it’s hard to tell what totk’s theme is. Sacrifice could be the outstanding one, seeing as both Zelda and Rauru make crucial sacrifices for the sake of Hyrule, but where else is it seen in the story? Totk just tries too many things, and having a clear theme would just help to solidify things

For a game that was supposed to solve the mystery of who the Zonai were it sure did a poor job at doing so. I absolutely adore the Zonai and in my opinion Rauru and Mineru’s designs as some of the coolest in the entire franchise but my god. Their lore is so underdeveloped it hurts. We know the bare minimum about their civilisation and culture. We still don’t know why they died off, why they built the labyrinths (and by extension who the Lord of dragons/owls/boars are), why they have secret stones in the first place, why is the Temple of Time in the sky when it was originally on the ground and most importantly why is draconification a forbidden act. If you’re gonna imply that the three dragons introduced in botw were once people then tell us!! Totk deserved a dlc that could explain all of this and not leave us in the unknown

Saying that the Sheikah technology just “disappeared” is an absolutely awful way of saying “uh yeah we never thought about that”. That’s some god awful world-building and planning on the developers behalf. Even if they just said that after the Calamity it lost its magic and then parts of it were repurposed for new technology, like the Skyview towers, it would be so much more believable. The Divine Beasts should have at least been in the game somewhere, perhaps in the depths. The lack of Sheikah tech makes the game feel so disjointed from botw, and makes totk feel as though it’s only a sequel because it has the same characters in it

The ending of the game just doesn’t sit right with me. Why bother having Mineru beg Zelda not to swallow her secret stone if in the end she would be able to turn back into a human. I understand the developers want a happy ending but at least let there be consequences. Let Zelda’s memory be a bit hazy or give her dragon features like many artists have done and let Link permanently be an amputee

Also the Ancient Hero angers me. I’ve got no problems with him not being a hylian because honestly it makes it wayy more interesting knowing that not every hero was hylian, but just explain why. If he’s some sort of Zonai, why doesn’t he look like Rauru and Mineru? Is he some sort of hybrid or a different breed of Zonai? And why does the tapestry depict him as a hylian if he’s not? Seems like an oversight more than anything

I think I should stop there because this post is getting long but uh TL;DR totk could have been a phenomenal game if they spent more time planning out the storyline and fleshing out lore. I get it, the game was originally botw dlc, but after so many delays we at least deserved a better story.

I do still love this game though Tears of the Dragon goes HARD

[ontheshroom]

request: reader and jack get into an argument before heading to his family’s house for the holidays. when they get there, they try to make it seem like everything is all good, but his family notices that it isn’t. Maggie, jack’s mom, saves the day.

I'm so sorry

Jack Harlow x reader

Angst

Tw:none

A/n: my heart :( I had to use this pic 😭

******************************

The past week has been tough between you and Jack. It seemed as if every day there was something new to argue about. Today Jack decided it’d be about how the both of you were going to celebrate the holidays.

“I don’t see what your issue is, Jack. I really don’t.” You sigh, rubbing your temples.

“Your plan makes no sense! You’re going to fly to Y/h/s, Alone! To visit your family a week before Christmas and then fly back to visit my family with me together?” He asks, annoyed.

“Yes, Jack. You’re going to be busy and my family doesn’t mind celebrating a week earlier. I’d rather see them for the holidays than not at all, but I’m also building my own family with you so I’d also like to celebrate the holidays with you!” You yell back.

“You’re just making this all harder than it needs to be!” Jack groans.

“Then what would be better, Jackman? What do you want me to do? How can I make this easier on you?” You ask him placing your hand on your hip.

“I don’t know!” He yells, throwing his hands up, and rubbing them down his face.

“Whatever, Christmas isn’t for another month. Let’s go we’re going to be late for Thanksgiving with your family.” You sigh, grabbing his keys and tossing them to him.

Jack follows you out of the house and unlocks the car doors. You get into the car and lean your body towards the car door. Jack pulls out of the driveway and starts driving to his mom’s house. The tension between the both of you is high and you just hope you’ll be able to drop it before you get to Maggies.

“Jack-“

“No, y/n I don’t want to argue anymore.” Jack sighs.

“I wasn’t trying to! I was going to ask if we could figure it out.” You mumble.

“Great, so now I look like an asshole.” Jack scoffs.

“Are you serious, Jack? Why are you acting like this?” You huff.

“Just leave it alone.” He sighs, pulling into Maggie’s driveway.

“Just celebrate Thanksgiving with my family, and just seem normal.” Jack orders.

You suck your teeth with a nod.

The two of you step out and you nearly rush to the door to get away from Jack’s bad mood. Over the last few years, you’ve been with Jack you’ve gotten incredibly close with his family.

“Hi, love!” Maggie exclaims as you walk through the door greeting you with a hug.

“Hi, Mags.” You squeeze her tightly, absorbing the good energy she’s giving you.

Jack walks in the door after you and you pull away from Maggie so he can hug her.

“Hi, my baby boy.” She greets Jack

“Hi, mom.” He hugs her back.

You go to settle in the living room with everyone else while Jack continues to talk to his mom.

You greet Brian and the two of you quickly get started on your routine game of Jangled.

Jack watches you during his conversation with his mom and he frowns at the sound of hearing you laugh not remembering the last time he’s even heard the sound.

“Everything okay?” Maggie pouts.

“I think I fucked up, mom.” Jack sighs, leaning his back against a wall.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve just been so stressed lately, and y/n’s around constantly and I’ve been taking it out on her.” He explains.

“She’s just been trying her best, but I find a problem with everything,” Jack says, looking up at his mom with tearful eyes.

“I don’t wanna lose her, mom.” He says, his voice cracking as a tear falls from his eye.

Maggie quickly pulls Jack into a hug as he quietly cries.

“Just talk to her, baby. You know her and how much she loves you.” Maggie assures Jack.

“Hey, mag-” Your heart shatters as you see Jack look up at you with his eyes full of tears.

“Is everything okay?” You ask softly.

“I think you both should talk.” Maggie gives you a tight-lipped smile and rubs your shoulder as she walks away.

“Jack?” You ask him, looking up at him with those eyes he swears could solve every problem he’d ever experience.

“I’m so sorry, princess.” He apologizes.

“I- I know I’ve been hard on you. I’ve just been stressed.” He explains.

“Baby, it’s okay. It’s so okay. I get it.” You pout, pulling him into a hug.

“It’s not. I’ll work on getting my stress out in a way that won’t hurt you like this. I’m so sorry, y/n.” Jack squeezes you tightly.

You lean back and wipe away his tears.

“I love you so much.” You smile, you stand on the tip of your toes, and kiss him.

The two of you wait a bit for Jack to calm down before you walk into the dining room to join dinner with his family. For the first time in a couple of weeks, you and Jack eat dinner and laugh together like when you first got together.

“Everything okay between the two of you?” Maggie asks the two of you on your way out.

“Yes, thank you for helping me out, mom.” Jack hugs Maggie.

“I’m always here, Jack. Just remember to be thoughtful and kind.” Maggie says, pointing her finger at him.

“And you, thank you for putting up with him through everything.” She says to you, pulling you in a hug.

“I always will. Dinner was amazing, Maggie. Happy Thanksgiving.” You tell her.

You and Jack walk to his car and Jack opens the door for you. He kisses you before walking over to his side and getting in. He pulls out of the driveway and gets started on the drive home.

[spgothkidsheadcanons]

Can you write Michael having a crush on reader who's Henrietta's or pete's younger sister, maybe them being an overprotective older sibling.

CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE

i love this. especially since I am a protective older sibling. so this was super easy to write because I’ve had the pleasure of one of my best friends dating my little sister 😭

~~~~~

Pete:

- You and Michael have been in a secret relationship for a few months now

- Truth be told, you were getting tired of having to keep it a secret, but Pete has showed disdain for you even thinking about dating his friend

- Now that dating Michael was a reality, you were scared every minute of the day thinking Pete was gonna find out

- It was 2 in the morning when you heard a familiar tune being tapped on your window

- It was your secret code with Michael, and you rushed out your bed and over to your window to let him in

- After greeting each other, you moved to your bed, enjoying each other’s company in almost silence, few words being spoken between you two

- You were laying on your side, Michael’s face buried in your chest as you just laid there

- Everything was peaceful, quiet. just the way you liked it

- That was, until you heard your bedroom door opening, and Pete calling your name to see if you were still awake

- You froze, breath hitching in your throat as your cheeks began to run red

- It didn’t take an idiot to see that you weren’t alone, another figure laying right by you

“Who the fuck is that?” Pete demanded, slamming your door open hard enough for it to knock into the wall. No words came from your mouth, unsure of how you were going to get yourself out of this position. Your lights flipped on, and Pete stomped to the bed, standing over your figure. “Who the fuck is it, (Y/n)?” your brother repeated, crossing his arms as he glared down at you. There was no use trying to come up with an excuse at this point, and all you could do was sigh as you moved the blankets down.

“It’s Michael, Pete. Don’t act like you’re my dad.” you said, rolling your eyes. Michael made no plans to move, keeping his head buried in your chest. Pete’s face contorted into one of disgust, then one of anger. “Dude, what the fuck, Michael? That’s my fucking sister.” the shorter goth hissed, frustration lacing his words. Your boyfriend sighed into your shirt, before turning his head just enough to look Pete in the eyes. “I know, and I know you don’t approve of it or whatever, but I’m not leaving just because you have a problem.” the curly headed goth stated, turning his head back to it’s previous position.

Pete sucked his teeth, his head beginning to hurt. You stayed silent through the interaction, unsure of what to do or say. “You’re a fucking asshole, Michael. I told you to stay the hell away from her. How long has this shit been going on?” Pete questioned, frustration dripping on his words. “Seven months.” you muttered, voice timid as you waited for his response. “Seven… months. Seven?!” Pete exclaimed, repeating your words back. “That’s what they said.” Michael’s voice piped up, muffled by your chest. Pete shot him an annoyed glare, not that your boyfriend could see anyway.

Shaking his head, your brother turned on his heel and began walking to your bedroom door. “Don’t come crying to me when he drops you, (Y/n). And Michael, if you ever hurt them in anyway, I’m going to rip your fucking teeth out. I don’t approve of this shit.” Pete spat, turning your lights off and slamming your door shut. You sighed, your own frustration boiling up. “You’re such a butthead.” you murmured to Michael, kissing the top of his head. He looked up to you, eyes half lidded as sleepyness filled his eyes. “I don’t care. I’d rather have a mad friend than not have you.” he replied, a tired smile crossing his features. You returned his grin, pressing a kiss to his forehead before resting your head back on the pillow. You’d have to deal with Pete in the morning, but for now, you were going to sleep with your boyfriend, and forget what happened.

Henrietta:

- Henrietta wasn’t as mad, but she was definitely aggravated

- She had known Michael for years, and obviously wasn’t gonna be happy over the fact he was dating her little sibling

- You couldn’t even try to get it a secret from her, she had found out way before you had planned on telling her

- Regardless, she wasn’t too happy about the situation, but knew better than to say anything to either of you

- He was her friend, you were her sibling, she didn’t want to ruin the relationship with either of y’all, so she kept her mouth shut

- Henrietta wasn’t going to make it easy for you, though

You were standing infront of Henrietta, arms out as she continued placing safety pins in the prototype of the dress you had on. One of her “payments” for staying quiet about your relationship was that she could use you whenever she needed a mannequin for something she was working on. You felt a sharp sting to your thigh, and you shot your older sister a glare. “That fucking hurt.” you griped, fighting the urge to cross your arms and possibly get stabbed by another pin. “You know what hurts,” she began, not even so much as looking at your face, “Is the fact that my childhood friend is dating my little sibling and they know how I feel about that, yet they still continue to date each other regardless of what I say.” she finished, placing yet another safety pin in the side of the dress.

Michael sat on the couch in her office, leaning his cheek into his palm. A stupid smirk was on his face as he watched you banter with Henrietta, you complaining about the fact you kept getting pricked and her stating her distaste for your relationship. “Well, if you’d stop moving, then you wouldn’t get stabbed.” Henrietta sighed, sitting back to study her pin work. “I think you just hate them.” Michael piped up from his position, taking amusement in the scene infront of him. Henrietta casted him a glare, a scowl breaching her face.

You, on the other hand, looked at him with a smile, nodding your head along to what he was saying. Henrietta turned her attention to you, shooting you the same glare. “I’ll stab you again, bitch. No hesitation.” she threatened, standing up from her sitting position. Michael snickered at your sudden face drop, watching the fear fill your eyes at your older sister’s words. “Stay here, I have to go grab some more fabric. And for God’s sake, Michael, stay on the couch and away from (Y/n). There’s so many pins in that dress, we’ll have to take you to a hospital if you decide to try and get handsy with them.” she warned, stepping out of the office.

You stood in silence, turning to face your boyfriend. “She’s kinda scary now that we’re dating.” you noted, using a hushed tone in case she was listening. “Kinda? This is probably one of the only times I’ve truly been too horrified to do anything but sit here.” Michael agreed, voice whispered to match your own. Still, he made a move to stand, quietly striding over to you. The curly haired man smiled at you, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. You happily reciprocated his actions, pressing your lips to his.

Hearing the familiar click of Henrietta’s heels, he placed one last kiss to your cheek before quickly returning to his previous position on the couch. Your sister walked through the door, shooting a mean look to Michael. “I don’t know if you think I’m an idiot, but I know what happened while I was gone.” she said, an accusatory tone on her words. You giggled, straightening your posture and Michael glanced away sheepishly, coughing to cover his own laugh. Henrietta sighed, resuming her place by your side as she picked up some pins. “You guys are gross.” she muttered, placing a pin in the dress on you. You flinched, groaning at the pain of the stab. “You did it again!” you cried out, exasperated at your sister. “I know, that was on purpose.” she replied nonchalantly, never stopping her work. “And I’ll do it again if you don’t stop sucking each other’s face in my house.” she added. You groaned, earning a soft laugh from Michael. This was going to be hell.

[heyidkyay]

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

Part Twenty-Four - Part B

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

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

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

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

Masterlist

“London?”

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

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

“Yeah, Matty. London.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wish it was as easy as that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know what.”

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

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

“I thought-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“His.”

We both knew who I was talking about.

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

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

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

“Why’s he want you gone?”

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

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

“You want to go?”

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

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

A truth for a truth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“London.” George whispered.

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

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

And change they would…

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I huffed a mirthful chuckle, “Sorry.”

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

“See, I have this friend…”

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

“Might be.”

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s nice, Nana.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, someone was definitely home. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I mulled it over, “I could do that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Over the top? Eccentric? Loud?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t stress.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did not!” I gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I swallowed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You never mentioned singing before.”

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

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

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

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

“You any good?”

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

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

“The next Britney, me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I shook my head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you tomorrow, Birdie.”

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

…

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

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

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

‘He’s half fucking in love with you.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me go.”

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

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

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

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

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

Just get out. 

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you.” I spat back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My name.

I heard her call my name over and over. 

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

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

I kept on screaming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I cried harder. 

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

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

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

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

He didn’t reply.

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

I ached. Everywhere.

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

And where was I? His head screamed at him.

Where the hell was I?

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

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

He startled.

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

He sounded so weak. Voice shaking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck. George, that you, mate?”

Ross.

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

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

Jumped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She did what?”

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

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

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

“Hang on- stabbed? George, what?”

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

A long pause.

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

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

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

“It’s all my fault.”

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

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

——

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

But everyone did.

The police had been by. Twice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

It was finally Sunday. Which meant we were leaving. 

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

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

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

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

“Right then, I’ll go grab my keys.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah. Matty now knew of our little secret. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His mum only sighed.

—

I shifted again for what felt like the umpteenth time. 

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

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

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

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

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

Tough fucking luck, hey?

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

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

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

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

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

I laughed at that. “Oh, you’re on.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

Should count themselves lucky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. It does, don’t it?”

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

Smash!

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I shot him a look. “G..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They remind me of you.”

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

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

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

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

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

George smirked lazily, “Right though.”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, that sounded like the best option.

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

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

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

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

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

“On you? Anything would.”

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

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

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

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

“Woke up just before you came in.”

I hummed. Talk about timing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“After you kissed me, you mean.”

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

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

He hummed, unconvinced.

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

“Go get changed, will you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part Twenty-five>

[iaus]

[fic] my every sigh (run)

M / 1,052 words

content tags: unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, boundary issues, non-explicit sexual content throughout

Jace is good at tricking others—offering them a sweet, slow smile, or masking purposeful, malicious decisions beneath a veneer of harmless incompetence. Porter still sometimes falls into the trap despite the years they’ve been doing this, but Jace isn’t trying to mask his emotions now. He’s genuine right now. Genuine and pissed off.

jace and porter before the start of the school year.

notes: fragment of a potential future project, but definitely not committing to it (hence the tumblr post). i really just needed to get it out of my head title from "red flags and long nights" by she wants revenge.

Jace is quiet tonight—smoking, eyes distant and cum still lingering on his thighs and abdomen. Porter doesn’t mind it. It sates something primal in him to see Jace marked up, used, and allowing it to sit. He’s never been the type for pillow talk, or even really being conscious after he’s come.

It must be the change in season, the shift of the end of August turning to September. It’ll be business when the week starts—buy back and training days, first day of school, making small talk in the hallways, acting like he doesn’t intimately know the way Jace gets mean when he’s impatient.

The summer break has been relaxing—different. Jace has been over almost every night as they hatch their fledgling plan. Apparently, the details of the spell work and components are going to be a pain in the ass and Jace still needs a few months to make sure everything’s lined up. He still kept coming over after he told Porter that at the end of June.

“It’s a precaution,” Jace had told him caustically, even as Porter squeezed his ass and bit high up along the inside of his thighs, sucking a bruise into the pale, sensitive skin as Jace arched and snapped if Porter was even listening. He was. It didn’t matter. Jace had stopped talking.

He stretches, thankful they’re at his place, Jace’s bed is too soft and too small. Thick with the smell of magic and lotions too lavish for a teacher salary. He can smell it on Jace’s skin under his own cologne. Familiar. That should bother him more than it does. Rather, it fills his belly with heat and makes his cock stir.

Jace usually shakes him off and showers—cleans out his ass and washes the sweat from his skin. He likes this, the cooling flush, and the way the heavy smell of sex lingers heavy on Jace’s skin. He should mark him up before he leaves. Make sure he has to choose between wearing a scarf too warm for the weather and bearing Porter’s marks when they go back for their staff training days on Monday.

He nuzzles at Jace’s hip.

Jace puts a hand on Porter’s head, trying to push him away.

“We need to talk.”

Porter raises an eyebrow. He bites a kiss onto Jace’s hip, savors the hiss it causes. “There’s better things we can be doing, yeah?”

“There is something wrong with you,” Jace snaps. He shoves Porter again—he moves with the motion, amused. “Get off me.”

“Seemed like you had a good time.”

“Gods. You’re insufferable.”

Jace is good at tricking others—offering them a sweet, slow smile, or masking purposeful, malicious decisions beneath a veneer of harmless incompetence. Porter still sometimes falls into the trap despite the years they’ve been doing this, but Jace isn’t trying to mask his emotions now. He’s genuine right now. Genuine and pissed off.

Which is something Porter is familiar with—something he enjoys. There’s nothing better than hearing Jace’s real opinions on the rest of the faculty, his poisonous, jealous thoughts on the fact that Porter can actually be good at his job.

“Okay, well, what’s the issue this time, sweetheart. Didn’t fuck you hard enough?”

Jace’s eyebrow twitches. “I’m ending this.”

The world lurches, goes red along the edges. He grabs Jace’s thigh, squeezes and knows from touch alone that he’s done damage. Left his mark. Jace hisses. “No.”

The word falls between them, a low growled threat.

“You don’t get to say ‘no,’ to this,” Jace snarls. “I’ll still work with you; in all ways you need me. I simply won’t do this.”

“Why.”

He can feel the hot pulse of rage starting in the tips of his fingers, where he still grips Jace. If he looks down, he can see the marks he sucked along the insides of his other thigh. Jace still smells like him—has his cum cooling on his skin.

“Zara,” the fury in Jace’s voice is fantastic, beautiful in his sudden and unexpected wrath. “I find her irksome.”

Once, what feels like a very long time ago, he had teased Jace in his truck and asked if he was the jealous type. Jace had never answered him. If he weren’t so pissed off, he might honestly laugh.

“Why’s this an issue now?”

 “I’ve told you before, I am not a team player.”

“That doesn’t answer my damn question, Jace; why’s it an issue now?”

Jace shoves him again, Porter doesn’t budge but loosens his grip on Jace’s thigh.

He allows Jace to move away from him and Jace is across the room in a few frenetic strides, pacing by the window—curtains drawn back to let in the moonlight. Still naked. Still dirty. Still Porter’s.

“What are you so pissed off for—I’ve only seen you the past few months.”

“And what about on Monday?” Jace’s eyes are wild in a way Porter has never seen them. The anger almost makes him glow. Porter has never wanted him more. Jace turns away from him, bends at the waist to start rummaging on the floor—he gives Porter a perfect view of his ass, his bruised thighs, the cum dripping down the back of his leg.

Porter’s cock twitches.

“Jace. Lay back down.”

“No.”

He can count on one hand that Jace has used magic on him. Usually, it’s always been for a laugh, Jace playing up his annoyance or a curious edge to see how much punishment Porter really could take. This is different. Jace’s eyes go molten gold, and flicks his fingers in such an easy, practiced motion that Porter can admire it.

Naked, angry, and casting aggressive magic at a man who could pulp him in a breath.

He assumes Jace is pulling out all the stops, is about to tell him to knock it off but can only grunt. His body still breathes, pumps blood, but he has no control. He didn't even realized he failed the spell save.

He’s not sure what’s heating his blood more the rage or arousal.

“I told you; I’m leaving.”

Jace picks up Porter’s shirt, wipes the cum from skin. He pulls on his slacks, lingers in the doorway and says, hoarse and unreadable, “Don’t call me.”

He wants to tell Jace that he doesn’t get to walk away from this—you’re mine, he thinks fiercely; you wanted this.

But the spell holds—and Jace walks out the door.

[wonubb]

Will We Ever Get Married? - Cheol

Hi all. Changed my mind and decided to have the whole story in 1 post only. Sorry and please re-read. :) Thank you all for the likes, RB. To the new followers, hello. :)

“Baby, I have a question.” You said to your boyfriend who is busy cleaning the dirty dishes. Your system has always been like this since you decided to leave together 5 months ago - you cook then Cheol will do the dishes.

“Sure, what’s that?” He asked and glanced at you quickly.

“Will we ever get married?” You asked while still looking at him.

You heard a rattling sound of spoon and fork in the sink. Cheol looked down to fix the mess and wasn’t able to respond quickly. “Well, ummm… let me just finish this, kay?” To you, it sounded like a no.

“Don’t worry about it. It was a silly question by the way.” You stood up to walk to your bedroom but he was quick to hold your wrist to stop you from walking away.

“Hey, hey, sorry I kind of got caught off guard.” He looked and sounded sincere. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop your heart from squeezing a bit. You didn’t say anything and waited if he has anything to add. All you heard was ‘ahhh this is not it, this is not it.’

“You know what Cheol, I’ll go freshen up. It’s been a long day for both of us.” Your resigned tone made him so nervous it felt like you are suddenly drifting away.

“Wait, baby…”

“Wait… okay. Let me tell you something, yeah?” He looked intently at you while holding your hands.

“Go ahead, it’s not like I can go anywhere but here.” You smiled weakly at him.

“Okay.. here goes. I was planning the perfect surprise for you. I already have the venue, planned the whole thing. I was really just caught off guard with the question. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to marry you because believe me, it’s all I’ve been thinking these past few months.” He explained in length while maintaining a tight grip on your hands.

“Oh, Cheol. Sorry if I ruined the surprise.” You hugged him, feeling extremely sorry. Knowing him, he would have planned this a long time.

“It’s okay, baby. I’d rather you know the plan than thinking I don’t have any plans at all for our future. But please act surprise, yes?”

“I can act surprise. I am sure though that it’ll still be so memorable.” You intertwined your hands together.

“But… may I know why you ask that all of a sudden?”

“Oh about that. Chan and Seungkwan have been sending me pictures of wedding gowns saying I’d look really beautiful in any of them.” You remembered getting a new request for a GC named team bride (boochan only). You were so fascinated with the designs they sent you forgot to asked why are they giving you wedding gown suggestions.

“Those pricks. I’ll have a word with them tomorrow.” Cheol did a forehead slap and quickly picked his phone from the counter. Minutes later he’s talking to BooChan.

“Okay so maybe it’s actually my fault.” He started. “I forgot to tell my members that I didn’t propose in our anniversary last Monday. They thought I’d pop the question during our dinner.” He shook his head while he remembered that night.

“Really? So all this and I’m the only one who’s clueless?”

“Yeah well now, not entirely but you owe me that big reaction when I finally and formally ask the question.” He pulled you to a tight hug.

Finally getting comfort in his arms, you said “Well, I can give you that but you have yo sweep me off my feet with whatever you’re planning to do.” He chuckled.

You broke the hug and looked into his eyes. “But baby, whatever and whenever it is, know that my answer will be yes.”

[cheesecakezyum]

hey, hru? i just found your blog and tbh i really love it and your writing, it’s just so good! so can i request the mayor realizing that he likes the reader, and how he would confess? thanks! <3

Anyone Can Change, If They Try Hard Enough!

Ooh! Sure! We all love some unhinged old men am I right or am I right?

My hiatus has been so long simply due to some financial, family and more personal issues I’d rather not discuss publicly. Writing doesn’t pay my bills after all! Maybe I should make a Kofi or personal commissions? Most likely not— I’m just here to have fun. Anyways, I’ll be back to writing the multitude of prompts that have been given to me over my hiatus. To think that my last post had me at 150 followers, and now I’m almost at half a thousand now! I’ll try my best to make it up to you within the upcoming months as well as a Christmas special piece on Ao3! Stay tuned my lovelies <3

─────────────────

─────────────────

♡- I wouldn’t say what he feels is love at first sight. Quite the opposite truly. You, being a known rebel against the Lady Bone Demon throughout the period of time the world was in utter disarray.

♡- He was truly and utterly devoted— in any way, shape or form; His goal was to stay by her side for the rest of eternity if granted such a gracious opportunity. Why ask for anything more?

♡- One of his duties? Taking care of the foolish mortals who dared to disobey the new world. That was where he initially met you. Someone who had daringly risked their life to let a family of four flee. You jumped in front of them! You don’t know what had happened to them after, but it didn’t matter. They had more to live for than you did in your brisk opinion

♡- As foolish as the mayor believed you to be, he did nothing but cackle and unceremoniously take his leave. It was hilarious! Why would you would risk your life for these people? It was utter nonsense!

♡- A small part of him admired your bravery, no matter how insane it seemed. The mayor was reminded of his own loyalty to his lady.

♡- The act had left him in your thoughts, so utterly long until he was ripped away from any bone demon powers he had once attained in a massive quantity. One minute he was fighting the monkey king, and the next?— forced to give out information to the very same people trying to stop their plan to rewrite the world as the simian took his very place.

♡- He was able to get away, as easy as it was when the scums just left him there. The only problem was, he had nowhere to go. Battered and bruised, the old mayor of the city would stick out like a sore thumb! There was only one option.

♡- He had to find you. Maybe because he showed you such mercy, you’d repay him with a safe place to dwell until things died down? If anything, you’d even get on your knees and kiss his shoes! Yes yes, that’s the plan.

♡- It took a few days for him to find you, but once he did? Ohhh, you certainly looked different than you did during the ‘apocalypse’. You dressed quite nicely! Formal wear similar to his! He never noticed you worked right in town hall; the place he dwelled most being undercover. Who knew?

♡- Back to your situation, you had moved to a much better area; Close but not exactly in the heart of the city you once did! Due to many losing their homes, you had opted to stay in a friends condo she had for rent, which was practically spotless! It was way better than the now ashes of your former home. You finished up settling the last of your boxes in the living room before hearing a clean three knocks at the door.

♡- You didn’t like who you saw. Not one bit. It was the mayor of the city, monster, the very same one who threatened to obliterate a family simply asking for mercy? He looked like an utter mess.

“Well hello there ci!—“

You had shut the door before you could hear any more. Had he been stalking you? What was his reason for such an intrusion.

You heard his muffled voice on the other side, but instead chose to preoccupy yourself with better things than an old, no— ancient man outside your door. You weren’t a young hot shot either! Being in your late 30s has proved to you that you were simply gaining maturity.

Something was just, off about him.

♡- By evening, you had realized that he was still at the door— waiting with his usual eerie smile. What had even happened to him for someone with such power to come here? If he really was a threat— destroying your home would’ve been a piece of cake.

♡- You made stew, and what you didn’t expect was your body to move for you.

The man was no longer waiting by the door, instead seated in a gentlemanly manner alongside your exterior walls, you had lifted a hand. What were you doing?

“Hey….are you hungry?”

He looked up at you, the very first time you didn’t see his face with forced glee.

♡- Maybe you did have a death wish.

─────────────────

I have the horrible ability to turn simple prompts into ideas for full pieces of work. Anywayssss, thx for reading!!

[your-queer-dad]

Hey dad,

I kinda need some advice right now cause I really genuinely don’t know what to do

(Side not this is really long)

My best friend has been rather distant over the last year and it’s been making me really sad. At first I thought that it was primarily due to scheduling conflicts and their parents being a nightmare but now I’m starting to suspect that either I did something wrong or it’s their romantic partner.

I (aro) have been friends with this person for several years and I love them a lot they are like family to me. However last summer they went radio silent and no one heard anything from them for months. I lost a lot of sleep those few months and it was really bad. When I got back to school I found them and it turns out that they got locked out of their chat room account and their phone’s notifications were glitched again.

I was kinda confused about this because I wondered why they hadn’t even checked my or any one else’s messages in months or tried to reach out but their really socially awkward and kinda insecure so I brushed it off

They also told me they got a new account but made no attempt to contact me or anyone else in our social circle on it.

Several months later I found out through an aqutences slip up that they had a romantic partner. I was kinda hurt that they told this person they barely knew before me. The aqutence made me swear to secrecy because apparently my friend made them promise not to tell me.

A couple weeks later my friend slipped up and told me about their romantic partner.

I found out here that they had been dating sense the summer of radio silence.

A couple weeks after this I got contacted through the new account, I had asked several times for it at this point. Things had been kinda getting closer together after that and more scheduled had started to line up but it still wasn’t great.

Now that school is over we’ve both been mostly free online so we’ve been talking more in a group chat that a I got invited to (side note I made friends with one of the other people there and their nice so that’s pretty cool). Several days ago I asked my best friend if we could play this one game together and my best friend said yea tomorrow. That day came around and they had forgotten to download the game. This frustrated me but I brushed it off because they have memory issues so I assumed it was unintentional. They said we could play tomorrow.

The next day came along (note I’ve been starting every single conversation we’ve had) and my best friend said that we couldn’t play that day because they had plans with their romantic partner. I saw in the group chat that that plan had been made that morning. I have been waiting several days.

I feel like I am the one putting all the effort into this relationship and it really makes me sad. When I talk to their face they still say I am important to them but they haven’t done anything besides put me in the group chat.

Am I just being paranoid and the whole situation is in my head and it’s fine?

I’ve heard from other aromantics that allo friends tend to leave you behind in favour of romantic relationships after awhile. I’ve also seen other aromantics heavily scrutinised for expressing feelings of sadness over abandonment.

Im really scared to confront them about it because I don’t want to hurt their feelings, and I don’t know if it would make the situation better.

Do you have any advice on how you think I should handle this dad?

Hey kiddo, thank you so much for reaching out. I'm so sorry that sounds like a really difficult situation to deal with. Personally, I don't think it's very fair of your friend to do that to you, it sounds like you've been there for them no matter what and they keep pulling away or not being there for you. It isn't fair. You shouldn't have to be the only one putting effort into a friendship, that's not how they should work- its a two way street where both people put effort in.

Sometimes actions speak louder than words, and the way a person acts shows how they feel more than what they say. If they keep breaking their promises, or saying things they don't back up with action- then they're not being a good friend.

I personally would tell them how you're feeling and how their actions are making you feel- as someone who's been on both sides of the situation, I know sometimes when you're in a new relationship it can be really easy to be blinded by the thrill of it all and forget other responsibilities like friendships. However, it might make them more aware of how their actions are affecting your friendship.

I hope everything goes okay and I'm here to listen, my inbox is open 24/7. You got this kiddo. 🫂🫂🫂

- dad x

[tameodesza]

Confession (KevinShawn/BretShawn)

AO3 link | masterlist

Shawn is pressured to come clean about his affair with Bret Hart.

a/n: Back with more angst! This follows the events that took place in this fic

“If you don’t tell Kevin, I will.”

The threat came from a very pissed off Hunter after he spotted Shawn leaving the Harts’ locker room, clothes disheveled and a hickey on full display.

The glowing smile Shawn was wearing immediately dropped as he angrily hissed, “No, the hell you won’t! It’s none of your fucking business-”

“It is when I’m friends with the both of you.”

Shawn scoffed, “But you’ve known me longer. I’m your best friend for fucks sake!”

“And he’s my friend, too! You’re putting me in a difficult situation, Shawn.”

“Oh, stop being dramatic,” Shawn said as he continued walking down the hall.

Hunter followed him as he said, “How do you expect me to talk to Kevin and act like everything’s ok when I know his boyfriend’s getting fucked by Bret Hart-”

“Shhh!” Shawn looked around cautiously to be sure no one had heard Hunter. When the coast was clear, Shawn said to Hunter, “You don’t think I feel guilty about it? I feel like shit.”

“Then why are you still fucking around?” Shawn didn’t have a good answer and he didn’t feel like thinking of one.

“Just drop it. You’re giving me a headache.”

“It’s not right, Shawn. And you know it-”

“I know! Ok? I know. Just…give me time. I’ll tell him.”

“Soon.”

“Ok, yes. Soon.”

Hunter wasn’t sure if he trusted Shawn, but he decided to drop it for now, hoping he could take Shawn at his word.

   The next time Shawn saw Kevin was two weeks later. With Shawn traveling in between towns and Kevin having a day off, Kevin suggested that the two of them book a hotel room to spend some quality time together.

Normally, Shawn would be excited. He hadn’t seen Kevin in over a month, and he missed him so much. But he still hadn’t told Kevin about Bret. Shawn felt that the conversation was one that needed to be had in-person rather than over the phone.

Shawn planned on telling Kevin as soon as he saw the man. But it was so hard to even think of uttering those words when Shawn opened the hotel room door to see his boyfriend’s beaming smile.

Kevin pulled Shawn into the room, immediately engulfing the man into a tight long-lasting hug, glad to have Shawn in his arms again. “Hey, baby. I missed you so much,” he whispered.

Shawn tightened his grip onto Kevin whispering back, “I missed you too.”

Kevin pulled back slightly to look at Shawn, bringing up a hand to slowly caress his face as he took in his beauty, before bringing Shawn into a slow and sensual kiss. Shawn kissed back just as eagerly, briefly forgetting why he was so nervous in the first place.

After separating, Kevin rested his head onto Shawn’s as he continued to stroke the blond’s cheek. His lips ghosted over Shawn’s as he said, “I’m so happy you’re here.”

Shawn smiled, “Me too.” Then his smile faltered as he remembered why he was really there.

He had to tell Kevin the truth.

But it was hard to, especially with how sweet Kevin was being.

The taller man had gone out of his way to make Shawn feel special. He ordered room service, lit candles, brought out an expensive bottle of wine, and gifted Shawn a few knickknacks he picked up on the road that he knew the blond would like.

Shawn’s heart melted that whole evening as he further drowned in guilt. He was guilty that Kevin was being so thoughtful while he harbored such a horrible secret. And despite his guilt, he unashamedly basked in the attention Kevin was giving him – the attention that Shawn had been craving for the past few months.

His guilt only worsened when, after pouring another glass of wine, Kevin said earnestly, “I’m sorry I haven’t been putting in much effort lately.”

Shawn shook his head. “Kevin, it’s fine. You don’t need to apologize,” and make him feel even worse about himself.

But Kevin insisted, “I know you try your best to be understanding, but we all reach a breaking point. I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me, Shawn. I love you, and I promise I’ll do better.”

Shawn got teary-eyed, but for reasons that Kevin wasn’t aware of. The taller man chuckled as he brought Shawn into a hug saying, “You’ve always been an emotional guy.”

Which was true. But Shawn was emotional for multiple reasons that night. He was touched by how caring and thoughtful Kevin was being. But the reality of the situation was also hitting him.

Like the good boyfriend he was, Kevin could sense that something was bothering Shawn, especially after noticing Shawn’s shoulders trembling slightly. He stroked Shawn’s back gently as he asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Shawn pulled back from the hug, wiping his eyes before looking up at Kevin’s concerned face. The secret was on the tip of his tongue. But instead of the truth coming out, Shawn said, “I love you. So much.”

That brought a smile to Kevin, the taller man cupping Shawn’s face with both of his hands, thumbing away the tears on Shawn’s cheeks. “I love you, too. In case I haven’t said it enough tonight.” He then pulled Shawn into a passionate kiss that soon turned heated.

That was all it took for the couple to forget about dinner and make their way towards the bed.

Shawn didn’t know just how much he missed being caressed and wrapped around Kevin until the man was thrusting into him with such care and ease.

It wasn’t the quick fuck he and Bret usually had. No. It was passionate, sensual, and brought Shawn so much pleasure – so much that he climaxed twice before Kevin could even finish. That night, Kevin gave Shawn everything he needed, but was too impatient to wait for.

And because Shawn was a selfish man, he decided the truth could wait. He’d tell Kevin eventually, but not tonight. For one more night, he wanted to experience Kevin’s love before it would be taken away from him.

   Shawn was the first to wake the next morning, his head resting on Kevin’s chest as his guilty conscience weighed heavy. He didn’t know Kevin was up until he felt the man’s hand slowly tread through his hair.

Shawn closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he worried about how he was going to tell Kevin the truth. He didn’t want to break the man’s heart. He didn’t deserve it, but Shawn couldn’t keep prolonging it.

However, right as Shawn was about to open his mouth, he was thrown off by Kevin saying, “I was thinking about going back to the WWF.”

Shawn’s eyes flew open as he tilted up his head to look at Kevin in shock. “What?”

Kevin smiled as booped Shawn’s nose saying, “You heard me.”

However, Shawn didn’t return the smile, genuinely confused. “But… why? Things are going so well for you at WCW.”

Kevin let out a breath. “I know, I know. But it’s not the same being there without you, Shawn.”

“But…you’d be taking a major pay cut, right?”

“I don’t care. You mean that much to me.”

And Shawn wanted to cry again.

The fact that Kevin was so serious about him, serious enough to leave millions of dollars behind to be with him, was too much. He couldn’t let him make such a drastic decision without knowing the truth.

Shawn frowned to himself before fully sitting up and saying, “I can’t do this.”

Kevin frowned as well, not liking the sound of that. He sat up, asking, “Is there something wrong?”

Shawn groaned as he rubbed incessantly at his face. He then looked into Kevin’s eyes, voice quivering as he said, “I have to tell you something.”

Kevin hated seeing Shawn upset, and obviously whatever he was about to say was bothering him. So he grabbed Shawn’s hand in support, saying softly, “Take your time.”

Shawn grimaced as he said, “Please, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Be sweet to me right now. I don’t deserve it.”

Kevin tilted his head in question. “Why wouldn’t you deserve it, Shawn?”

“Because after you hear what I’m about to say, you’re going to want nothing to do with me.”

Kevin tightened his grip on Shawn’s hand, saying, “Never. There’s nothing you could say that’ll make me love you any less.”

Shawn slowly pulled his hand away from Kevin’s, taking a deep breath before saying, “I cheated.”

It was as if time stood still, the room quieting as the words settled in the air. Kevin looked like the color drained from his face, mouth hanging open in shock at the revelation. There’s no way. He must have heard wrong.

Seeing Kevin go quiet, Shawn quickly spewed, “I’m a terrible person, and I feel so horrible about it! I’m sorry. I’m so so fucking sorry, Kev. Kevin.” Shawn tried to get the man’s attention who was looking spaced out.

Shawn tried to place his hand back into Kevin’s, but the man snatched away, asking, “Who was it?”

Shawn stalled, causing Kevin to shout, “Who the fuck was it, Shawn?!” Shawn jumped, slightly startled at the outburst.

The truth of the matter was that Shawn didn’t want Kevin to know, honestly afraid of what the older man would do.

Fed up with Shawn’s silence, Kevin hissed, “If you don’t tell me right now, I’m leaving-”

“Bret! It, it was Bret.”

Kevin was taken aback, not believing what he was hearing. Last time he checked, Shawn and Bret didn’t get along, or at least that’s what it seemed like before he left for WCW. “How long?”

Shawn swallowed hard, his hesitation causing Kevin to reiterate, “How long has this been going on behind my back, Shawn?!”

Shawn’s heart pounded as he said shakily, “Uh, a-a few months. I’m sorry- Babe!”

Kevin swiftly stood up from the bed, no longer wanting to hear what Shawn had to say. He was beyond livid, and he knew being anywhere near Shawn was a bad idea.

Unfortunately for him, Shawn trailed behind him, desperately grabbing at Kevin’s arm as he said frantically, “Would you please just listen to me-”

Kevin snatched his arm away, exclaiming, “Get the fuck away from me, Shawn! Don’t fucking touch me.”

Shawn’s eyes instantly pooled with unshed tears, the younger man not used to being on the receiving end of an irate Kevin.

Throughout their relationship, Kevin was always so careful with him, so patient and understanding. They rarely fought, and even during the small times that they did, Kevin always tried his best not to raise his voice, especially because he knew how fragile Shawn was, and screaming at the blond only tended to make matters worse.

However, now Kevin had every reason to be pissed, and Shawn knew it. But it didn’t make being on the receiving end of Kevin’s tirade hurt any less.

Shawn sniffed, saying weakly, “Kevin-”

“Tell me. What was the meaning of this,” Kevin asked as he gestured between Shawn and himself. “of us falling in love, of me devoting my life to you, of us planning our lives together, of us meeting each other’s family? What’s the meaning of it if all you were going to do is shit on everything we’ve been building together?! Does it mean anything to you-”

“Yes! Of course it does, Kev. You mean so much to me. I love you!”

Kevin tsked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Love. This is how you show me you love me? By running to the next man when I’m not giving you enough attention-”

“No-”

“Because you want to know how I show my love? By being fucking faithful to you!”

“I know-”

“You don’t think I get lonely on the road without you?! You don’t think I get frustrated when we don’t have time for each other?! You don’t think I’ve had opportunities to fuck around with people, too?! I have, Shawn. But I never did it because I love you! But I guess I loved you more than you loved me-”

“No, Kevin, that’s not true! I love you – only you.”

“Then why’d you do it?! If you love me so fucking much, why would you throw us away like this?”

“I-,” Shawn cut himself off. He was at a loss for words. No explanation could justify why he did what he did. “I-I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.”

Shawn shrugged, “I-,” he sighed. “I just missed you so much. We barely talked, and the few times we did, we would get into these petty arguments. Then we would make plans to see each other, but they’d get canceled. And you were always so busy-”

“So it’s my fault-”

“No! No, it’s not, Kev. That’s not what I’m saying. I just, I don’t know what to say. I was stupid. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

Kevin went quiet, dragging his hands over his face as he contemplated what to say next. He was so stressed out. This was his worst nightmare, and he never thought Shawn would be the one to put him through it.

He was so angry, both at Shawn and himself. Maybe he didn’t try hard enough. Maybe he didn’t put Shawn first at times. Maybe he did prioritize his work obligations over spending time with Shawn. He knew he was a sucky boyfriend for that.

But did that mean he deserved to get cheated on?

“Kev?”

Kevin was brought out of his thoughts, looking up to see Shawn slowly approaching him like a scared animal. However, Shawn halted at Kevin’s next question. “How many times?”

He needed to know. As heartbreaking as it was to imagine Shawn sharing his body with someone else, Kevin needed to know how bad it was. Was it only one time? Although that was still bad in his eyes, a part of Kevin felt like he could forgive Shawn and move on.

“Um,” said Shawn as he averted his eyes.

The guilt was eating him alive. He hadn’t anticipated for Kevin to ask such detailed questions. Part of him hoped Kevin would give him a pass and they could forget it ever happened. But he should’ve known better.

“Shawn,” Kevin said flatly, this time having no energy to raise his voice. “How many?”

Shawn looked up again and his heart nearly broke at seeing Kevin’s misty eyes.

This was what he was afraid of. He never wanted to hurt Kevin. Never. Yes, Shawn was selfish. Yes, he enjoyed being with Bret. But breaking Kevin’s heart was never his goal.

“I-I don’t know.” Which was the truth. He wasn’t proud to admit that between the various sneaky meetups in locker rooms and hotels, he and Bret had fucked more times than he could count.

“Give me a number.”

Shawn furrowed his brows, saying, “I don’t know, Kev. Multiple times. I can’t give a number.”

Multiple times. They had sex multiple times. Not one. Not two. Multiple. That was all Kevin needed to hear for his world to come crashing down.

Kevin closed his eyes as he felt his throat closing up. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing as a nauseous pit settled in his stomach. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

“If you want to be with him, then go.”

Shawn’s heart dropped. He did like Bret, but he didn’t want to be with the man. Shawn knew he was such an asshole for cheating, and Kevin deserved as much space as he needed. But he didn’t want them to end the relationship.

“What, no! Kevin, I don’t-”

“We’re done.”

The tears that Shawn was holding back were unleashed, streaming endlessly down his cheeks as he reached for Kevin’s hand. “Baby, please-”

“Shawn, leave.”

“No,” Shawn sobbed as he threw himself at the man, tightly wrapping his arms around Kevin as he cried into the man’s chest. “Please don’t do this! I’m sorry! I want to be with you!”

It took everything in Kevin not to reciprocate the hug. He’d always been weak for Shawn’s tears, but this was a moment where Shawn didn’t deserve his sympathy. “Shawn, let me go.”

When the younger man didn’t listen, Kevin tightly gripped Shawn’s arms, forcing them away from his body. “Go!”

Seeing that Kevin wasn’t going to change his mind, Shawn dropped his arms before slowly walking to his gym bag. He threw on some clothes, glancing at Kevin every so often, before putting on his shoes, grabbing his bag, and making his way towards the door.

He gave one last glance at Kevin before leaving the room and the broken man inside of it.

Once Shawn was gone, Kevin didn’t hold back any longer, his emotions coming at full force as silent tears streamed down his cheeks. He desperately wanted to punch someone – preferably Bret Hart – but with no one in sight, Kevin let out a yell as he picked up a lamp and threw it into a wall, the lamp shattering on impact.

Breathing heavily, he sat on the edge of the bed, gripping his hair in his hands as he cried, feeling just as broken as the lamp on the floor.

[callmeyoursblog]

domestic price :)

domestic price has been stuck in my head, dinner is served now. working on a pt 2 already, it'll be an ongoing series :)

Domestic Price but he hates it because he’s been forced.

Well, it’s his teenage daughter that hates it. “It’s for a mission!” He’d tell his daughter. He didn’t quite mind being away on a mission that wasn’t so dangerous. She was at her grandmother’s house. Safe. And he got some time away that he hadn’t had for quite a while.

The only downfall being you. The pretty, new lieutenant he’d recruited. Obviously you’d get stuck with him for this mission. You were pretty, he was handsome. You both looked the part of an attractive couple.

Although, everything he’d told his daughter about the mission, you remitted from what you had told your boyfriend before you left. He’d go crazy. And knowing him, he’d probably find a way to get you discharged from service forever. For the last few months his place was more like a storage unit than home. He treated you like shit. You had grown more distant, acting like you “couldn’t” leave your office, you had so much work to catch up on since your last deployment. You didn’t have a home. You had your barracks. You didn’t have a boyfriend. You had a roommate.

Now, standing in the kitchen of the giant ass house you’d been placed in with your captain, you realized what you were missing out on. Clean, warm, and homely. It was welcoming, even though you were sent there to watch for drug cartel action. You laid all of your stuff down on the bed, putting away your clothes into the drawers. Price entered behind you, claiming another side of the bed and putting his clothes away. You looked at him with confusion.

“There’s other bedrooms, you know.”

“We’re married. Remember?” He smiled up at you. He threw you a black box. You opened it to see a ring that seemed far too expensive for a simple mission. The confusion on your face grew. “Yes, it was bought for someone else. But it’ll do for now.”

“And you’re trusting me to wear it?” You stared at him. He just nodded with a face that seemed like it was such an obvious decision. You slid the ring onto your finger, quickly throwing your stuff into the drawers and walking out of the room.

You sat on the couch with a huff, pulling out your laptop and notebook to take notes of what you needed to know for the mission, and your plans for the next few days. Price sat down on the chair across from yours, looking at you taking notes. You didn’t once break to look up at him, even knowing he was staring. As your pen filled the paper, eyes scanning across the dim screen, he just watched you. Occasionally huffing in annoyance that you weren’t acknowledging him. As you flipped to a new page in the notebook, he finally broke the silence and made you look at him.

“What’s your boyfriend think of this?” He asked, his tone low.

“He doesn’t know. I’m not telling him.” You informed him, going back to your writing. He continued staring at you until you broke. “Fine. I didn’t tell him because he’d never let me go on this mission. Catching terrorist organizations is more important than my boyfriend’s self esteem.” Price’s eyebrows raised at your statement.

“I’ve never heard you talk about him in detail. Why’s that?”

“I think you know.” You snapped back, going back to your writing and not giving into his stares again. You sat for hours writing, him eventually leaving his seat and finding something to do elsewhere in the house. The topic of your boyfriend made you bitter. You typically distracted yourself with your work. Something you planned on doing tonight as well.

You worked well into the night, hoping Price would leave you alone so you could sleep on the couch rather than in bed with him. Sure, he was attractive. Every woman would pounce on the opportunity to sleep in the same bed as him. But not you. Even if you despised your boyfriend more and more every day, you wanted to keep your conscience clear. The clock hit 11, and you assumed you’d be safe, at least for tonight. Finishing up the last page of notes you were making, your captain’s voice cut through the darkness in the living room.

“Ever coming to bed?” He asked. You looked over at him. He had on grey sweats and a black t-shirt. And damn, did it take everything out of you to not bite your lip at the sight.

“Didn’t plan on it.” You remarked, looking back at your computer. He walked towards you. Grabbing your chin gently to turn your face upwards towards him. Your mouth fell slightly open, hoping some sort of sentence would come out.

“You’ve got to play the part, darling. Anyone could be watching.” He smiled, pushing his lips against yours. You pulled away after a few moments. Just blinking, unable to speak. “Don’t exhaust yourself on the first day here.” He told you. Pulling you up from the couch and dragging you towards the bedroom. Without saying anything, you laid down on one side of the bed. Turned away from his side, and as close to the edge as you could be.

Jesus, you were in for a long few weeks.