#my half sister dressed like the drummer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heyidkyay · 1 year

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

Part Twenty-Four - Part A

A/n: PLEASE READ!

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

Part B will be similar to A and will be out soon. Enjoy x

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

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

Warnings: Lots of swearing as per usual, talks and acts of violence, mentions of abuse and implications of sexual assault, alcohol and drug use.

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We’d been as thick as thieves since.

“She still not down yet?”

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

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

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

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

“It’s a ten minute walk, J.”

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

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

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

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

“Look, Y/n,”

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

“For the last half hour, yeah.”

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

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

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

“Jaim-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Vicky!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ha.” Jamie replied with a forced smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seattle.” He said.

My brows lifted in surprise, “Like America?”

He hummed his ascent.

“Wow. What’s it like over there?”

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

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

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

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

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

This music business was already proving to be difficult.

…

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

“Sod off, would you?”

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

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

“Nine times out of ten it does though.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“’S nothing, Matt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thought you said I could have it?”

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

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

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

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

“You came!”

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

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

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

“Alright, mate. I’m Hann.”

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When can you start?”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It all came to a head one band practice though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, how you liking school?”

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

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

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

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

My eyebrows rose at that. “Oh yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only George beat him to it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was shaken.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I withheld a sigh. For fucks sake, Matty.

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

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

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

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

“‘Course.”

He left it at that.

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

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

“Um, yeah. Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aren’t we all?”

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

“Yeah.” I said quietly instead.

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

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

George gazed down at me, “‘Spose.”

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

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

“Fair.” I chuckled.

“What about you?”

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

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

George hummed. “Hold you to it.”

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still.

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

I inhaled, in and out. Out then in.

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

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

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

No.

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

But you should know better by now, mum.

“Stop! Julio, stop please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steven!”

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

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

“The fuck do you want?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n?”

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

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

“Fucking hell, what, what h-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I hummed. My mum was home too, but I wished she wasn’t.

“She works a lot. Abroad mostly, ’s why we move around so much.” George explained to me, and I knew why he was telling me all this when he’d never let a word slip about his home life before.

It was an eye for an eye situation. He’d seen me like this, battered and bruised. And wanted to make sure it was clear that he didn’t have the upper hand here, that I wouldn’t think he had something he could use against me.

“My dad reckons she means well, but…” He just shrugged, hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts. I took note of the thin white tee he wore and the way he tried not to shiver. “We don’t get on.”

“She ever hurt you?”

I don’t know why I asked it. But I did. I wanted to pry, to cut him open and see if he bled the same way I had.

“Slapped me twice. First time, she cried. Second, was tonight.”

I let that sink in.

“My mum’s boyfriend did this.” I let slip quietly, hoping that the wind around us was strong enough to howl over my words. But I’d never been that lucky. George tensed beside me. Rigid as a rock. He’d heard.

In and out. I repeated the motion, the words on a loop in my head.

“You know that coffee shop over on Durham?” He asked me next, catching me off guard. Confused, I nodded. “You reckon you can get there?”

I nodded again, though I was still unsure. On whether I could make it, and if I should trust him here. It wouldn’t be the first time someone close to me let me down.

George seemed to sense my uncertainty and merely waited me out.

I took a deep breath after a long moment had passed and stood on shaky legs. He came to a stand next to me but kept his hands firmly in his pockets, making sure I noticed that fact too. A gesture that eased a fraction of my anxiety.

Slowly we walked together over to the small coffee shop that was open all hours, not uttering a single word the entire way. My body ached but I carried on, slipping his hoodie on properly once we’d finally neared the shops flickering ‘open’ sign. I tugged the hood up too to hide some of my face before we entered, unsure of what I might’ve looked like.

George went in first and held the door open for me, making sure to stay in my line of sight at all times, even when he offered to go order whilst I found us a table.

I grunted to myself when my tender skin brushed against the back of the booth I’d chosen in the far corner, one where I could watch the door and have no one at my back.

I sat there, waiting, and attempted to occupy my mind with the quiet song which was playing overhead, fingers fidgeting with the salt shaker all the while.

George returned a few minutes afterwards, tray in hand. He motioned towards it once he’d sat down opposite. “Got a couple warm drinks- you like tea right?” He asked me, and I nodded, surprised that he’d remembered, before he carried on, “Got a cup of water too, to clean your face up if you wanted.”

I swallowed thickly at the kind thought and carefully guided one of the warm mugs he’d purchased towards me, wrapping my hands around it and savouring its steaming heat.

“I can’t really see it, so there’s no point.” I murmured, staring down into the milky brew.

He was quiet for a few seconds, shaking a sugar packet before pouring it into his coffee. “I can do it if you want.”

I peered up at him and tried to hide my wariness. The way my body immediately stilled and pulled away. George didn’t say anything about it though, just continued to stir his overly sweetened cup.

I licked at my lip and tasted the thick metal that then coated my tongue. It was that which drove me to nod at him. George didn’t smile or acknowledge my nervousness, merely took a napkin and dipped it into the water. We both leant in further across the table at the same time. I forced myself to stay frozen when he begun to dab at my broken skin.

After a few napkins had been stained a crimson red, I finally relaxed a tad, glancing up at George’s own face whilst he worked deftly on mine.

It was then that I noticed the mark he’d mentioned having received earlier. A scatter of faint red dots in the shape of fingers sat alongside a fine welt that rested on his cheekbone. It made me wonder what had happened. If he’d been asking for it or if she’d done it out of anger.

Had I been asking for it? I wondered, drawing back into myself a tad. But stopped when I hissed outwardly, snapping my eyes up to meet his.

“Sorry.” George murmured, trying to be gentler when he wiped at my lip again.

“It’s okay. Just, didn’t expect it.”

He nodded in quiet understanding but said nothing further, and soon enough he tossed the final napkin onto the pile he’d made and simply went back to his coffee. I couldn’t help my tiny smile. Thankful, for once, to have him there.

…

After that night I started to lean on George a little bit more. More than I should’ve, in truth.

I was hardly even aware of though, until it was much too late. ’Til I realised I was looking at him in a whole other light. One I’d taken to avoiding since the day I’d met him.

We walked to school together every morning, met the guys at the gates and then separated from them at first bell. We hauled up in the music room at break, talking and telling one another quiet truths. Spent lunchtime smoking behind the bike shed, sometimes with Vicky, other times with one or two of the boys. We went to practice together and then walked home together. Met up when either one of us ‘couldn’t sleep’ and got far too familiar with the staff in Bru, that coffee shop we’d ventured into that first night. Even took to exploring the city I’d lived in my whole life. Travelling down to the yard, and wasting days in the park and arcade.

I depended on him always being there, I realised after a short while, and didn’t really seem to mind it. Which was as much strange as it was terrifying. George quickly became my person, a truth in a world full of lies. It was hard to comprehend most days.

—

“Oi, you’re definitely coming to Jamie’s party tonight right?” Vicky called out to me from across the worktop, we were currently in food tech and she was trying her very hardest to save the burnt sponge she’d made to no avail.

My eyes darted over to where George was stood working on the table over, then nodded at her. “Should be.”

“Great.” She grinned at me, “You bringing your boys along with you?”

I cocked an amused brow at her. She’d taken to calling them that. My boys.

“Don’t own them.”

Vic rolled her eyes at my answer then turned to shout over her shoulder at George before I could think to stop her, “You coming tonight then, Daniels?”

George’s head swivelled around towards us but it took him a second to stop working on his white icing before he answered. He glanced towards me first, a question dancing in his eyes. I gave a subtle nod, not even thinking about it. He mimicked it. “Should be.” He told her, wiping his dirty hands on a damp tea towel.

Vicky groaned loudly in return, “You two, I swear! You drive me insane.”

George’s forehead furrowed, obviously confused by her obvious irritation.

“She said the exact same thing!” Vicky huffed in explanation before she turned on him once more, “Just do me a favour and make sure she’s there, alright? It’s important.”

I released a light air of laughter whilst George’s mouth just quirked upwards into a small smile, he saluted her like a soldier would a general. “Yes, mam.”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that.” Vicky mentioned, a devious smile liming her lips.

I snorted.

“At ease, soldier.” I said to George before he wandered over to join me, swiping a finger through my freshly sifted icing. “Oi!”

“What?” George questioned me innocently, as though he hadn’t just put his grubby fingers in my food.

“I swear if Hanson marks me down ‘cause of that, I will string you up by the balls and dangle you from the school’s roof.” I warned him seriously.

Vicky giggled to herself, “Kinky.”

I rolled my eyes at her, whilst George just smirked, taking claim of my seat.

“You finished with yours then?” I asked him, still working on the roses I’d sculpted for the top of my dessert.

He hummed a quiet confirmation and begun to play with the string of my apron. I peered over at his station and was a tad bit impressed by the cake I saw. Vicky followed and whistled at the sight of it.

“Wow, Daniels. If drumming doesn’t work out for you, baking just might.”

“A man of many talents, our Georgie.” I teased, bopping his nose and staining the tip of it with a print of icing sugar. Vic giggled again and George scrunched his face up at me.

“George Daniel, in your seat please!” Miss Hanson interrupted as she looped back round and George gave me a ‘what can you do?” sort of look, before he sighed and went back to his assigned seat, wiping a hand full of icing across my cheek as he did so. I gasped.

“Prick!”

“Miss Y/l/n, language! Might I remind you that we are in a classroom not a zoo.”

I gifted the woman a strained smile and felt my left eye twitch. “Yes, Miss Hanson. Sorry, Miss Hanson.”

She merely harrumphed and plodded away, I made a face at her back. Vic snorted behind a crumb covered hand.

“That woman will be the death of me, I swear.” I grumbled unhappily.

Vicky was smirking when I glanced back up at her though, doing little to hide her ever rising amusement. I knew right then what was coming just by the look on her face.

“Detention, Miss Y/l/n. Lunchtime.” Miss Hanson grunted out and instantly my face fell. Vicky continued to snicker away at my expense.

“You’ll pay for that.” I mouthed to her, only to receive a feigned blameless smile in response. It was in that next moment that Miss Hanson shouted out again.

“Mr Daniel, same goes to you! Lunchtime detention. What on earth has gotten into all of you?”

Both Vicky and I snapped our attention in the direction of George’s table to find that he’d upturned a bowl full of flour onto the counter and drawn a leaking appendage into it. Both of our eyes widened before we burst out laughing.

“Miss Taylor, do you wish to join them both?” Miss Hanson threatened and Vicky was quick to quieten down, shaking her head at the older woman.

“No, miss.”

“Good, then I advise you to continue with your work.”

Miss Hanson moved on after that and whilst I struggled to get ahold of my chuckles, I saw Vicky waggle her brows at me before she jerked her chin over towards George, who was cleaning up his powdery mess. Confused, I shot her a bewildered look. But she merely smirked in turn, shaking her head at me.

I frowned but continued on rolling my roses, mind lingering on what she could’ve possibly meant.

…

Jamie Taylor’s parties were always something to remember.

The first one I’d ever gone to was for J’s birthday, he’d gone all out for it, decorated a bit, even had one of his mate’s older brothers supply a couple crates and bottles for us all.

Originally it’d been his mum that had forced him to invite Vicky and I along, which had put a bit of a downer on the whole thing, but the pair of us had been far too excited to have the chance to hang ‘round with the older kids at school and dress up a bit to care.

In truth, it’d been the first proper party I’d ever attended- if you didn’t count the one Sarah Whelts had thrown back in primary school, though that had been just as sick seeing as she’d had it in the local Maccies.

But yeah, that party was also the first time I snogged a lad. Like properly. It’d actually been with one of Jamie’s friends- his best mate, if we were being dead honest here- and it’d had my head spinning. Vicky had caught the two of us in the upstairs loo though and hadn’t shut up about it for weeks afterwards. To say she’d put me off wanting to get with him again was a massive understatement, she’d hung it over my head for ages, threatening to let it slip to J whenever she was in one of her annoying moods.

This time around though, all I wanted was to have a good time. After the shit day I’d had, I figured I deserved the chance to drown my sorrows.

“Hey, hey! There she is!”

I glanced up just as I made it through the front door and gave a smile when I spotted the man of the hour headed my way.

“Alright, Jaim.” I greeted as he roped an arm around me to pull me into a tight hug, he smelt of his usual aftershave and the lingering tinge of smoke.

“I’m grand, babe.” Jamie grinned back, looking down at me now as he pulled away a tad, arm still hanging off my shoulders. “Glad you made it though, ain’t seen you in ages. Vic said it was like pullin’ teeth tryna get an answer out of you.”

I rolled my eyes at the theatrics and laughed lightly. “Yeah, well she’s a drama queen.”

“Don’t I know it.” Jamie sighed, all put-upon before he chuckled.

We were interrupted then by a hoard full of boys. My boys as a matter of fact.

“Well hello, don’t you look stunnin’! Been looking all over for you.” Matty greeted merrily, beer already in hand as he accosted me in the hallway. I released a happy laugh of my own when he smacked a big kiss to my cheek and took my hand in his. “You only just get here?”

I nodded in faint reply before I pulled away from Jamie’s embrace to envelope both Ross and Hann into a hug, giving them my hello’s too. “Yeah, had stuff to do first. How long you lot been here?” I asked, but my eyes darted behind them in search of George. “And where’s G?”

The nickname was relatively new, but I’d always said that his name felt far too long. G seemed to be sticking anywho.

Matty kissed his teeth as his eyes scanned the room, fingers still attached to mine. “He was here a while ago- came with us, didn’t he.”

“Think he went out for a fag.” Ross mentioned to me before his eye caught Stacey Donahue dancing away in the corner. Hann and I shared a knowing smile before the giant made his excuses and dipped away.

“How you lads enjoyin’ the party then?”

I startled slightly at Jamie’s voice, having completely forgotten he’d been stood there with us. Although it did look like he’d just been quietly welcoming people as they arrived, whilst I’d been caught up.

Matty beamed at the question and raised the neck of his drink at him, “Great time, mate. As always.”

Jamie chuckled, “Cheers. Um, you two mind if I have a word with this lady ‘ere though?”

The lazy grin Matty wore grew at Jamie’s ask and Hann was smirking to himself as he nodded. “‘Course.” He replied for the both of them, before sparing a glance at me, “Come find us soon, yeah?”

My brow pinched and I could only nod at his request, ignoring Matty’s drunken snickering before Jamie gestured his head over to the right and begun leading me away, through the kitchen and its rowdy partygoers, out into the garden.

The air outside was a bit chilly, but I was still wearing the denim jacket George had lent me earlier that afternoon, so I didn’t feel it so much. I peered around at a few of the people who’d decided to gather in the garden, some of them smoking around the fire-pit, others sprawled out on the grass beneath the gazebo.

“What’s up?” I asked Jamie once he’d finished saying hello to a couple of his mates that had decided to head back inside just as we came out. He looked over at me.

Jamie had always been a good looking lad. You know, the typical pretty boy type. With his light eyes and cheeky smile. I remembered how much I used to fancy him growing up, not just ‘cause he was nice to look at, but because he’d always looked out for me, never made me feel stupid or less than. He was just a decent guy.

But it was a surprise to me then though to see him looking so sheepish, scratching at the jut of his jaw whilst his eyes skirted around me. Jamie was anything but shy, even when he was getting a good hiding he was still smirking away.

“You alright?” I asked him around a light chuckle, unsure on what he’d even wanted me for.

“Yeah, yeah.” He was quick to assure me, fighting to dampen his growing grin when he finally met my mirthful eyes. “Just needed a breather, you know. Mental in there.”

“What, and you just decided you’d use me as an excuse?” I teased, unable to help myself and fighting back a laugh when his eyes widened.

“Nah, no, nothing like that.” Jamie hurried out.

I just shook my head my head in return with a sweet smile, hands tucked in the pockets of my jacket. “I’m messing, J. What’s up? You seem on edge.”

He heaved out a big breath and left me waiting on a real reply, he was honestly starting to worry me a tad but now, never had I heard him go so long without speaking. He was almost as bad as Vic herself- maybe it was a family thing.

“Jaim?”

“Sorry.” Jamie sighed and dragged a frustrated hand down across his face. “Sorry just- reckon I need another drink.”

He laughed lightly, clearly trying to ease some of the tension he felt, and I joined but only for something to do. Still so confused.

“You gonna hold me hostage out here all night?” I prodded, raising my eyebrows at him with a soft smile when he peered my way.

He rolled his eyes with an amused grin, before he cut to it. “Listen, we’ve been mates for ages, right?”

Slowly I nodded at him. I’d call Jamie a friend, but it felt weird him acknowledging it, in my eyes, to him, I’d always just be his little sister’s tagalong.

“Right. Exactly.” Jamie barrelled on, not sensing my bewilderment. “And you probably know me best, innit? Like out of everyone- aside from me mum and me dad, probably Vic too.”

I wouldn’t say that but, “I ‘spose.”

“Good.” He dipped his head in a jerky nod and, honestly, I would’ve thought he was on something, the way he was acting, if I hadn’t been looking up into his eyes. “Yeah, so what I’m basically tryna say here is that-”

Jamie’s little tangent was promptly cut short by the arm that engulfed me. “B, ‘ve been lookin’ all over for you.”

Immediately I grinned, already knowing just who it’d been by the freckles that dotted their wrist and the familiar scent that wrapped its way around me. I lifted my head up to stare into George Daniel’s familiar eyes, their brown blown wide and hidden slightly by the squint of his smile.

“You made it!” I exclaimed happily, my hand reaching up to meet his at my shoulder, I gave it a quick squeeze and he nodded down at me.

“Said I would.” He replied and we shared another smile.

It was then that George seemed to realise he’d interrupted the conversation I’d just been having, his brows jumped upwards as he turned to look at Jamie.

“Oh sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to barge in.” George apologised with a smaller smile, glancing between us, “Just spotted her as I was headin’ back in.”

“You’re alright.” I assured George, “J was just having a quick word.”

“I’ll leave you to it then. Meet you inside?” George offered and I wanted so badly to wave it off, yank him back over to the side of the house where I knew he’d been hiding, and share a joint or two. But Jamie…

“If you don’t mind, mate.” Jamie nodded, his smile a little tight. I frowned, but glanced back up at George to make sure he was really okay with it.

“‘Course.” He smiled easily, squeezing my hand and pressing his nose into my hair as he pressed a quick peck to my temple. Something that was relatively new to us. Though I couldn’t help the butterflies it seems to erupt. “Bye bye Birdie.”

I snorted softly as he untangled himself, smirking all the while. Hating having ever let it slip that I loved that film.

He saluted me before slipping through the back door and I turned back to Jamie with a fond smile I didn’t even realise I was wearing.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” I asked him now that he finally had my full focus again.

Jamie stared at me long and hard, before a strange look crossed over his face. Almost one of realisation, or maybe resignation? It baffled me but I didn’t have the chance to question it.

“You know what-” Jamie breathed out, his smile small now but still genuine as he reached a hand out to brush against my shoulder. I glanced down at it briefly before he was speaking again. “Don’t worry about it. I can tell you another time, yeah?”

Forehead pinched in utter confusion, I wanted to prod at him further but he was shutting down before my very eyes by putting up a loud and extraverted bravado. One he usually let slip around those he was comfortable with. I wondered what I’d possibly done wrong.

“It’s a party, ain’t it? Lemme grab you a beer- you just enjoy yourself!”

Then he was squeezing my arm and breezing past me before I could get a word in edgeways.

I stood there on the patio, lost. Head so busy just trying to work out what the hell had happened that I didn’t even notice Vicky until she was there hanging off my arm.

“Did he tell you? Did he tell you?” She questioned me in her tipsy state, not even giving me the time to answer before she was pestering me with a dozen other confusing questions, “What d’ya say? Did you say you it back? Did you let him kiss you? Wait, don’t answer that one- don’t think I want to know.”

My brain short-circuited.

Only half aware, I felt myself glance through the window into the kitchen, to where Jamie now stood pouring a couple drinks, surrounded by people. His eyes met mine through the glass, before they trailed over to where his sister was now jumping about excitedly beside me, his face paled at the realisation.

Shit. Jamie liked me.

—

Jamie kept his distance after that night. Didn’t try to bring it up again or actually admit what, I was now afraid, he’d been about to.

Though the whole thing did confuse me- if it had been that that he’d been so close to admitting to, then what had stopped him? Was it because of George’s interruption, or had he just thought better of it?

They nibbled away at me, all these thoughts. But I tried to keep them at bay, ignore them as best I could. Because I could honestly have the entirely wrong end of the stick here, and maybe, just maybe Jamie wasn't actually avoiding me, maybe he was just busy with exams, and school, footie…

I groaned to myself, feeling a headache brewing. So much for ignoring the topic.

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours, cupcake?”

I scowled at the tap I received to the side of my skull and swatted halfheartedly when Ross dropped himself down onto the grass beside me.

The rest of lads, plus Vicky, were all up at the ice-cream van that’d pulled up at the curb by the entrance to the park. I hadn’t wanted anything when they’d all started to wander over, having heard the whining tune, whilst Ross had called in his winnings with Matty (the two of them were always betting on something or other) and asked for ‘a 99 with a flake and sprinkles, please!’

I’d been glad to have it just be me and him for a short while, I’d been feeling off all day and he was usually the one who didn’t ever mind my moods.

“Nothing.” I told him, picking at daisies that had just begun to litter the grass.

“What not even a cymbal-banging monkey?”

I breathed out an airy chuckle. “Why, is that all you’re used to?”

“Yup. That and tits.” He shrugged and I snorted an unexpected laugh.

“Pig.”

Ross merely grinned before he nudged me again. “Come on, get it off your mind before them lot come barging back over.”

I glanced out across the field, saw Matty pissing about with Vicky by the roadside and the way Hann struggled to keep his ice-cream from dripping down his hand. Then looked back to Ross. He’d kicked his legs out wide, palms splayed out behind him whilst his skateboard rested beside his foot.

“It’s nothing, stupid really.” I told him and watched the way he quirked an encouraging brow at me, obviously wanting me to carry on. I released a heavy sigh, “Can’t really talk to anyone about it, you know? Or it feels that way.”

“Well, I’m sat here asking, so tell me. You know I don’t care- could tell me you just bleached your armpits and I’d only ask to see.”

I smiled, shaking my head at his strange reply. But that was just Ross, he made you feel so at ease. Like you really could tell him anything.

“Fine. Just, you know Jamie?” I ventured carefully, gaze on the tiny flowers I was fiddling with in my lap.

“‘Course. Vicky’s brother- plays striker, don’t he?”

I hummed, “Yeah, him.”

“Alright, what about him?” Ross prompted and I could feel his eyes lingering on my hands, watching as I made holes in the stems of the daisies I’d collected.

“Something happened with him the other night, at his party.”

“Did he do something?” Ross’s hardened tone made me blink and so I was quick to snap my head up to reassure him.

“No, no. Nothing bad. Just something he said, or well, something Vic mentioned after we’d spoke.”

“You’re being pretty vague here.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “I know, sorry. I just- it’s strange to say out loud. I feel like I’ve got it all turned around in my head.”

“Alright well, just tell me what happened and I’ll see if you have or not.”

I wet my lower lip in thought then ultimately decided that it couldn’t hurt. The worst Ross would do is poke fun at me, and I knew wholeheartedly he wouldn’t say a word to the others.

“It started when I left you lot, he wanted to have a word and took me outside.” I started to explain, “He was acting right weird. Just not himself, you know? A bit nervous, I ‘spose.”

Ross hummed when I paused for a breath.

“And he was trying to tell me something. Thought it was gonna be something bad- what with they way he was acting- and he was just about to finally spit it out when G wandered over. We’d spoken for a few minutes, just normal shit, said hi and whatnot. Introduced him to Jamie. Then he headed inside, but when he’d gone Jamie lost his nerve. Put up this front and told me to forget about whatever he’d been about to say. Acted as though it was nothing important.”

“Right…”

“Then he shot off before I could say another word! I was so fucking confused, Ross. Beyond it actually. And then Vic came over, drunk and spewing a whole load of crap. Asking question after question. She-” I couldn’t say it for a moment, scared if I voiced it that it would sound stupid. But I inhaled and just forced the words out anyway. “She asked if he’d finally told me, if I felt the same way… if he’d kissed me.”

“Oh.” Ross said and I shot him a strained look.

“Oh. That’s really all you have to say?”

Ross’s eyes widened as he chuckled, “Sorry! Just, I mean, it was sort of obvious.”

I frowned. “What was?”

“Jamie. Matt and I have been betting on him asking you out since the week after we met you.”

“Ross!” I exclaimed, in utter disbelief.

“What?” He squawked in retort, mimicking as he withheld a laugh.

“Don’t what me, you knob! You knew he liked me and said nothing??”

“Yeah. I had ten quid on him bricking it whilst Matty reckoned he’d do it before Christmas. Then Christmas passed and we changed the terms to that he’d just ask you out.”

I stared back at him.

“You didn’t tell me because there was money at stake?”

“That, and we both knew it’d drive a wedge between your friendship with Vic. Then she finally caught on to it as well and we were gonna say something, but by then G had come along.”

My brow furrowed, “The fuck has George got to do with it?”

Ross levelled me with a look. I gave him one straight back. And it was then that he blinked and seemed to realise I really had no idea what he was on about.

“Wow. You’re so fucking oblivious, cupcake.”

I smacked his chest. “Ross. I’m not playing about here.”

“Christ.” He hissed, rubbing at his shirt. “Really got some power behind you. Who would’ve thought.”

Scowling, I prodded him again. “Ross, just tell me, would you? You’re driving me mad.”

He huffed but relented, looking me dead in the eye, “George has got everything to do with it, Y/n. I mean, he’s half fucking in love with you.”

I gaped for a short moment, eyes darting between Ross’s own when they never faltered, just waiting for him to tell me it was all a big joke.

“What?”

“You really have no idea, do you?” Ross chuckled, shaking his head at me like I was some sad little puppy. “But that’s alright, I guess. Seeing as he has no clue that you like him too.”

My eyes widened at the sureness in his voice but before I could even defend myself, the rest of our little group were swanning their way back over, completely unaware of the way my heart was currently deafening my eardrums. Or how it only seemed to pound harder when George handed me a milk lolly I hadn’t asked for, knowing that they were my favourite.

Ross shot me another look, smirking all the while.

Oh, shit.

Part B>

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judedeluca · 6 months

Text

Jude's 33rd Birthday Wishlist Wishtravaganza

It's the most wonderful time of the year. My birthday.

I've been so busy this past year with my work and my writing, and with so much I have to do this month in regards to my career and the holidays I wasn't able to really think much about this so I stuck with mostly my usual faves and a couple of new ones.

So if anyone wants to write or draw something for me for the most important day of the year, by all means. I'll have a kink one later, but right now I also have to work on holiday fic prompts for people.

For those interested in doing anything WG or BBM related for me, I'm just reusing the list from last year. I realized I've been making practically the same list every year and that's a waste of energy on my end.

(https://judedeluca.tumblr.com/post/701977512921759744/judes-32nd-birthday-wishlist-the-bbm-version)

Arsenal Family: Roy Harper and his daughter Lian, alongside Lian's half-brother Tommy Blake Jr. adopted into the family. A concept that was never included in the comics proper because Roy and Lian never found out about Tommy.

Berzerker (X-Men Evolution): Ray Crisp, an updated version of one of the Morlocks added to the Xavier Institute as one of the New Mutants. He was said to be a hothead, but aside from a briefly seen rivalry with Sunspot, was admittedly rather mellow. He was implied to have a past with Evo's version of the Morlocks.

Black Orchid (Justice League): A human/plant hybrid created from the DNA of Susan Thorne. She was the last surviving Orchid after Carl Thorne slaughtered the rest. Taking the name "Suzy," she went off with her older sister Flora. After going on various misadventures of her own, Suzy grew and eventually took the Black Orchid name when Flora was killed for trying to wipe out humanity.

Bolt (Teen Titans Academy): An indigenous Australian speedster who lost her legs due to the actions of her criminal parents. Amanda Waller got her into the United States and a pair of prosthetic legs, but Alinta refused to comply when Waller demanded she act as her soldier. Was last seen as a member of the short-lived Teen Titans Academy, but hasn't appeared since.

Catholic Girl (Xombi): As her name indicates, Catholic Girl is a Catholic school girl who also happens to be a superhero. She generates light and energy, force fields, and can fly. She's a sidekick to the telepathic Nun of the Above and a friend to Xombi.

Coagula (Doom Patrol): Kate Godwin, a transgender woman with the ability to generate energy capable of coagulating and dissolving substances. Joined the Doom Patrol after defeating the Codpiece, becoming a sisterly figure to Dorothy Spinner and entering into an emotional relationship with Robotman.

Dark Angel (Wonder Woman): A demonic witch obsessed with making Donna Troy as utterly miserable as possible. She initially served as the Anti-Monitor's Harbinger, but overcame his control and fled into the Multiverse. Has fought Wonder Woman, the Justice Society, and the Titans on various occasions.

Erina Goldsmith (Variable Geo): A Japanese-American woman who spent years being bullied for her mixed heritage. She now owns and operates a restaurant called The Rival, where she and her staff dress as Playboy Bunnies. She uses a cigarette lighter to focus her energy, and keeps her tucked between her bust while fighting.

Forte Drums (Sleepless Domain): Debbie, the drummer of Team Forte. She's the cute one with the bowtie, thinks she can get away with anything. She's notoriously ranked lowest on popularity charts in the past, but she's the most popular in my heart.

Foxfire (Squadron Supreme): A criminal with the ability to create a bioluminescent energy capable of rotting anything, Olivia Underwood was brainwashed into becoming a superhero by the Squadron Supreme. The brainwashing was eventually undone, but Olivia couldn't bring herself to betray the Squadron because she'd fallen in love with Doc Spectrum and liked being a hero. She was stabbed in the back by the Mink after killing Nighthawk.

Harry and Alex Altman (Goosebumps #45: Ghost Camp): Brothers spending the summer at rustic Camp Spirit Moon. They're disturbed by the various "pranks" the veteran campers like to pull due to how violent they are. It takes a while before they discover the camp's dark secret...

Hourman III (Justice Society of America): Matthew Tyler, a robotic inheritor of the Hourman created in the 853rd Century. He travelled back in time and became a member of both the Justice League and the Justice Society. He lived with former JLA sidekick Snapper Carr to better learn about himself and humanity.

Hypnotia (Iron Man: The Animated Series): A villainess with hypnotic abilities who worked under the Mandarin. Among his entourage of lackeys, Hypnotia was the only one with any degree of competency and had the respect of her boss. Dreadknight and Blacklash often fought for her attention, while she was infatuated with Tony Stark.

Kim/Taurus (Zodiac Starforce): One of the most recent recruits of the new version of Zodiac Starforce. Kim's the sturdiest and most physical member of the team and actively enjoys fighting evil. She's in a committed relationship with her boyfriend Josh, which her teammates find either adorable (Savannah, Lily) or nauseating (Molly). Her dream's to be a pro wrestler.

Joker’s Daughter (Batman): Duela Dent's a confused young woman who flips between good and evil depending on how she feels. She introduced herself to Robin and Batgirl by pulling off a series of "crimes" under several different guises in order to demonstrate her skills to join the Teen Titans. Though she's claimed to be both Joker's daughter and Two-Face's daughter, the truth's more complicated thanks to extensive mental trauma she's suffered over the years.

La Pucelle (Magical Girl Raising Project): A magical girl whose real name is Souta Kishibe. Souta's always been a fan of magical girl stories but kept his hobby a secret from most. One day he was blessed with power by the mobile game Magical Girl Raising Project, gaining the ability to transfer into a female form and wielding a sword that can grow bigger or smaller at his command. As La Pucelle, he fights alongside his childhood best friend Koyuki, a.k.a. Snow White.

Oursonette (War Bears): A 1940s comic book heroine created by Alain "Al" Zurakowski, a werebear who aided the Canadian army during WWII.

Purple Tigress (Fox Comics): A minor Golden Age comic book heroine who only made two appearances in printed media before falling into the public domain. Heiress Anita "Ann" Morgan has eyes like a cat and dresses herself up as "her jungle namesake." Somehow no one recognizes her as the Purple Tigress despite her never wearing a mask.

Radietta Fanbelt/White Racer (Carranger): A young woman from another planet who fancies herself the biggest fan of the Carrangers, to the point she styles herself as their hypothetical sixth member, White Racer.

Rainbow Girl (Legion of Super-Heroes): A heroine rejected from the Legion of Super-Heroes, she later joined the Legion of Substitute-Heroes. She taps into the Emotional Spectrum, but her lack of control means she suffers from erratic moodswings.

Sailor Jupiter (Sailor Moon): Do I even have to say anything?

Serena del Mar (Wave Race: Blue Storm): My favorite, go-to racer from the Wave Race franchise.

Softkore (Local Man): A member of the extreme antihero team Third Gen. Softkore was a former R&B singer before her bod was coated in an experimental polymer.

Supergirl (Mae/Linda): Matrix was an artificial being from an alternate world. As she struggled to understand if she was human in any sense, she didn't hesitate to sacrifice her life to save a young woman named Linda Danvers. The two became merged, and due to Mae's sacrifice they gained new powers as an earth-born angel.

Talon (Spider-Man: The New Animated Series): An heiress named Cheyanne led a double life as the thrillseeking Talon, a thief who enjoyed stealing things which had sentimental value for their owners. In her civilian life she was slowly becoming a good friend to Harry Osborn and Mary Jane Watson, while as Talon her hatred of Spider-Man's patronizing attitude grew.

Tiara (Shamanic Princess): One of the earlier dark magical girls of the 1990s from the six episode OVA series Shamanic Princess. Tiara's a warrior from the Guardian World sent to retrieve its source of power, the Throne of Yord. With her new familiar Japolo, Tiara finds herself up against familiar faces as she realizes the struggle she's in is more complex than she assumed. She wants to do the right thing, but what IS the right thing?

Tormenta (Mahoney’s): A demonic sorceress connected to the Ebon Realms and a regular at Mahoney's bar for supervillains.

Fun fact, my interest in the character sparked Rich Carrington and Brian S. Dawson to use her more.

Tsumugi Wakana (Magia Record): A magical girl who loves enjoying good food and supporting good cooks. She made her wish for the sake of better supporting Manaka Kurumi, another magical girl who is also a talented chef. Tsumugi's wish gave her refined taste buds, allowing her to write deeper critiques by picking up on subtle distinctions in every meal she samples. Her weapons are a trident which splits apart to form a giant knife and fork.

Vickie Wheilson (Graveyard School): Vickie Wheilson, the neon-colored second top boardhead of Graveyard School alongside her more serious cousin Skate McGraw as THE skateboarder.

Wakaba Shinohara (Revolutionary Girl Utena): She is all that is good in the world.

#jude's birthday #jude's birthday wishlist #jude's 33rd birthday wishlist

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lackyghost · 1 year

Text

Unknown: God damnit, Shitty Hair! You left my fucking window open and Queenie got out!

Todoroki Touya stares down at his phone with a confused frown in place, brows pinched together and his fingers hesitating over the screen.

He looks around the back of the dressing room at the rest of his band.

Himiko Toga, their bassist, has her headphones on as she scrolls through her phone, blonde hair already up in her usual spiky side buns, cat-like eyeliner in place around her golden eyes; all ready for the performance coming up.

Hikiishi Magne, their drummer, sits next to Himiko, her large, muscular frame swarming the petite blonde next to her. Magne’s red hair is loose around her face, falling to her chin as she reads something on her phone, pushing up the triangular sunglasses on over her dark brown eyes.

One of their guitarists, Sako Atsuhiro, is quietly sitting on the floor while his soft brown eyes diligently scan over the setlist for the umpteenth time; his cropped brown hair already adorned with his usual top hat, which matches his three piece vest suit.

Shimura Tenko, their pianist, is holding his phone up for a selfie; pierced tongue out, peace-sign up with his free hand, head tilted to show off the scars over his right eye and across both lips, one wine red eye closed in a wink, his wavy pale blue hair falling loosely around his shoulders.

Touya sighs and looks down at his phone again. He has the set list memorized—it’s been the same for the past three weeks of their headliner tour and he doesn’t feel the need to go over it again.

With nothing else to do, he shrugs to himself and leans further back against the velvety armchair he’s been lazily sprawled across for the past half hour.

Touya: Who is this?

Unknown: It’s Bakugou, you fucking idiot. I lost my goddamned phone, I fucking told you this earlier. Had to get a new number, it was fucking bullshit.

Touya: Wrong number.

Unknown: Fucking… seriously? Damn it. Any chance you have the number of a guy with shitty red hair?

Touya: Uh, no?

Unknown: Worth a shot. Whatever. I’ve got a cat to find.

Touya: Alright, then. Good luck.

Unknown: Whatever.

The door slides open, and the entire band looks up expectantly. Their manager, Aizawa Shouta, stands there, his curly black hair tied back in a messy bun, eyebags on full display as he steps inside with a coffee in hand that clearly isn’t going to cut it.

“LOV, you’re on in ten,” Aizawa says before chugging half of the drink and sighing. “Get your asses out there, problem children.”

“Will do, sensei!” Tenko says with a shit-eating grin.

“Don’t call me that,” Aizawa says as he rubs his temples with his free hand.

“Right, let’s do this, guys!” Himiko says as she jumps to her feet.

They all move quickly and smoothly, with the practice of a band that has been playing together since they were in high school; nearly twelve years now.

Tenko, as their self-proclaimed ‘social media manager’ keeps his phone in his back pocket while the rest of them set theirs down on the vanity counter.

Himiko grabs her beloved, blood red bass guitar, Atsuhiro carefully lifts his sleek black and burnt orange guitar, and Touya swipes up his black guitar, painted with iridescent blue flames.

They all walk together out of the dressing room and head down the wide hallway toward the closed stage doors.

Magne turns to give them all her warmest, most encouraging big sister-esque smile.

“Let’s do our best,” Magne says, eyes sparkling behind her sunglasses.

“We always do, Mags!” Himiko says cheerfully.

Atsuhiro nods sagely. “We will ensure that tonight is—”

Everyone else joins in to finish his phrase, “—Magic for the masses.”

Atsuhiro smiles and Touya snorts, while Toga pushes one of the doors open just enough for the screams of the crowd to flow in. A massive, somewhat maniacal grin breaks out across Touya’s face as the lights dim.

They make their way onto the stage, nothing but silhouettes to the audience. Magne goes to the raised drum platform behind the rest of the band, Himiko and Tenko go to the left, the blue-haired man takes his place at the piano, Atsuhiro stays toward the left and Touya steps up to center stage.

Touya looks around at his friends, getting nods from everyone to confirm they’re all ready to go.

Touya sucks in a breath as he wraps his hand around the microphone, and he feels his bandmate’s energies go up before he even starts shouting.

“I hope you’re fired up, Osaka, because we’re the LOV!”

The stage erupts with music and he starts belting out one of their most popular songs, his smooth baritone coming out with a hint of a growl as he plays his guitar, fingers dancing across the strings.

The light above shines down on him, almost blinding against his snow white hair, reflecting off of the silver piercings lining his ears, his left eyebrow, his lower lip, nose, and dimples.

The v-neck black t-shirt he’s wearing clings to his muscular frame as he plays. It leaves much of his chest and arms on display, letting the audience take in his heavily tattooed form.

Intricate, lace-like mandalas run up both arms, across his chest, up his throat and jaw, covering his lower lip and cheeks; all done in black and a deep plum-purple.

His eyes, lidded and almond shaped, hold vibrant turquoise irises that are practically on fire as he sings; the color nearly glowing in its intensity.

—

Touya makes his way back to the dressing room with the rest of LOV; all panting, sweating, and high on the adrenaline of another sold out show.

They quickly shower and pull on clean clothes before heading out with a row of security guards, walking past a line of fans screaming for their autographs.

Each member has their metallic permanent markers ready to scribble hasty signatures—Touya’s purple, Himiko’s red, Magne’s silver, Tenko’s gold, and Atsuhiro’s orange.

Touya, as the son of a rather famous CEO, doesn’t use his real name on anything related to the LOV, he simply goes by Dabi, which is fortunately easy to quickly scrawl out as he typically uses the English letters.

As much as he enjoys people knowing how amazing he is, he still doesn’t like crowds. Or people, really. So, he’s relieved when they make it to their tour bus.

“I’m fuckin’ tired,” Touya grouses as he heads straight for his bunk. “Don’t stay up stupid fucking late, you morons.”

He climbs into his claimed cubby bed and pulls the curtain shut. He can’t sleep just yet, he needs to calm his mind, so he tugs out his phone with the intention of reading an e-book, but finds several unread text messages.

Unknown: Fucking found her. I know this ain’t Shitty Hair, but Queenie deserves the recognition. [Image attached].

Touya opens the picture and blinks in shock at the absolutely massive black Maine Coon cat, looking more like a goddamn panther than a housecat. It’s sitting regally on a faded green sofa, it’s red collar shining proudly on its neck, complimenting its orange eyes.

Touya: Holy shit, she’s fucking majestic.

Unknown: I know. Not sure why the fuck you think you need to text me that at fucking midnight. You performing a fucking séance?

Touya: Not a bad idea. But no, I work late.

Unknown: Gross. What the fuck job keeps you up this late?

Touya: I’m in a band.

Unknown: Uh-huh. Cool.

Touya: Yup.

Unknown: Well, I’m gonna block you now. Ain’t interested in texting some brat in a garage band.

Touya: What the fuck? I’m 28, asshole.

Unknown: Good. Felt like a fucking creep for a second there.

Touya: I have no evidence to deny that.

Unknown: Oi, fuck you.

Touya: Hey, you texted me first.

Unknown: Whatever. I kinda like texting someone who doesn’t fucking know me.

Touya: But for all I know, you’re a fucking stalker.

Unknown: Oh no. You caught me. I’m a stalker. Because I love you, Kenji.

Touya has to smack his hand over his mouth to smother his laughter, and he can’t even function enough to text back for several minutes.

Unknown: Oh, shit, is that your actual fucking name?

Touya: No, I just had to take a moment to learn to fucking breathe again.

Unknown: You’re an asshole.

Touya: Takes one to know one.

Unknown: You know what? Fair.

Touya: At least you’re not one of those major assholes who pretends they’re really a nice guy.

Unknown: Those are the absolute fucking worst.

Touya: 100% with you there. Well, I need sleep now. Goodnight, stalker.

Unknown: I hope you suffocate on your own pillow.

Touya snorts softly, shaking his head and scrolling back up to the top of the list for the name the person had given earlier.

Bakugou.

Doesn’t mean anything to him, but he updates the contact name and plugs his phone in for the night.

—

Touya wakes up the next morning to his alarm, and quickly silences it so it doesn’t wake the whole damn bus. He groans and climbs out of his bunk, finding Aizawa seated in the long sofa that takes up half the living space, sipping a coffee and looking dead on his feet like always.

Aizawa taps one finger on the hotel key cards on the long table. “Take whatever one you want. We’ve been parked for a few hours. They’ve got a good gym, open 24-hours, and you have permission to use the kitchen after hours.”

“Thanks,” Touya says with a grunt as he swipes a random card.

He goes to his bunk and opens the cabinet underneath to withdraw his duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He swipes his phone charger from the little outlet in his bunk shelf, and rushes off the bus.

Tour buses are the worst fucking part of touring.

His phone buzzes in his pocket shortly after he reaches his room and he tugs it out after scanning his key card, checking his messages as he shoulders the room door open.

Bakugou: I need an objective third-person perspective on something for an article I’m writing. So, I figured, why not ask that random unknown asshole.

Touya: Just get on with it.

Bakugou: Do you personally believe people who take the time to focus on their physical health tend to overall have better mental health?

Touya: What the fuck? The brain literally releases hormones that help with emotional stability during exercise. It is literal science.

Bakugou: I write articles online. Science means nothing to these people.

Touya: Sounds like you need a better site to post on.

Bakugou: Shut up. I fucking will eventually. But bills are a fucking thing, and I have to sleep and eat and all that bullshit.

Touya: Sleep is for the dead. Stay up late and use that time to get that shit started.

Bakugou: But sleep…

Touya: You using that as an excuse ‘cause you know you’re shit at writing?

Bakugou: Fuck you, I’m awesome! [Link shared.] Asshole.

Touya follows the link, flopping down onto his bed as he reads the article. The one he’d sent has a lot of shares on social media and it’s well written and factual, but it lacks feeling.

Touya frowns and goes up to the author, Bakugou Katsuki. He pauses briefly at the author photo—a handsome man with wild, spiky pale blonde hair, a fierce scowl on his lips, and red eyes largely obscured by black, thick-rimmed glasses.

He’s cute, and young, maybe twenty years old. Touya shrugs and goes through Bakugou’s other works listed on the Chiba News site.

He loses track of time reading through the posts. Some topics are muted while others are full of passion and clearly show the man’s desire to help others, even if those ones are worded harshly—Touya is actually pretty impressed by them.

He grabs the link to his favorite, one about the healing qualities of rock climbing, and sends it to Bakugou.

Touya: [Link shared.] When you write about shit you actually care about, it’s fucking good, doll. If you want to get that fucking blog going, go for it. If it’s good, I’ll share the fuck out of it.

Bakugou: Doll? Don’t fucking call me that!

Touya: Why not? You’re cute.

Bakugou: Shut the fuck up. If you’re gonna start making fun of me, I’ll fucking block you.

Touya: I suppose ‘cute’ is an objective term, doll. And, objectively speaking, from my third-person gay perspective, you’re cute. Now shut the fuck up and get started on your blog.

Bakugou:…Fuck. That was kinda hot.

Touya: Text me when the blog is up and running.

Bakugou: Ugh, whatever, asshole.

—

“You’ve been smiling a lot more lately,” Himiko says, nudging Touya’s shoulder with her own.

Touya looks up from where he’d been smiling at his phone screen and scowls at her out of spite.

Tenko and Atsuhiro are still getting dressed for their show and Magne is seated at the vanity nearby, putting on her makeup.

“It’s been nice,” Magne says, giving Touya’s reflection a soft smile.

“Shut the fuck up,” Touya grumbles.

“Who is it?” Himiko questions. “We’re not gonna judge. It’s just you and your friendly neighborhood lesbians here to support you.”

Touya snorts and shakes his head. “It’s just this guy who texted the wrong number.”

“And you didn’t immediately block the guy?” Himiko asks curiously.

“He has no fucking idea who I am,” Touya says. “He just sends me pictures of his cat and tells me random shit about this blog he’s trying to start.”

“What kind of blog?” Magne asks.

“Personal care or some shit,” Touya says with a shrug. “He works for some news company in Chiba, but he’s fucking wasted there. I told him to start up his own blog.”

Himiko and Magne exchange surprised looks and Touya eyes them before groaning loudly. He runs one hand through his hair and drops his phone on his lap.

“Fucking spit it out,” he snaps.

“Nothing!” Himiko says, waving her hands and grinning at him. “Is his blog up yet? Can we read it?”

“He’s still building it, says it’ll be done and his first one posted tonight,” Touya says, sighing.

“Please send it to us when it’s up,” Magne says, eyes sparkling. “I love reading blogs. If this man’s writing has your interest, he must be phenomenal.”

Touya opens his mouth to respond, and then the doors slam open and Tenko walks in, strutting cheerfully with Atsuhiro trailing behind him, looking absolutely done with Tenko’s shit.

“What’s up, my beautiful LOV family?” Tenko chirps. “My beautiful, wonderful, gor—”

“Spit it out, Tenko,” Touya growls.

Tenko laughs excitedly and bounces on the balls of his feet. “So, there’s this cat café downtown that has a Corgi on site…”

—

Touya is trying his fucking best to ignore the cameras as he and his bandmates leave the cat café, cat-eared headbands on all of their heads—Atsuhiro’s poised atop his hat.

It had admittedly been strangely therapeutic to sit and pet cats while sipping on a hot chocolate, but someone obviously ratted them out, because as soon as they’d stepped outside, the paparazzi swarmed them.

“Please, we just want to get back to our hotel,” Magne says placatingly.

“Yeah, come on, we’ve gotta get ready for our second set here in beautiful Nagoya,” Himiko says, turning the charm level up to eleven.

One of the paparazzi steps forward and grabs Himiko’s arm. She yelps, Tenko squawks furiously, and Touya darts over and grips the man’s wrist in an iron vice as he glares daggers at him.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off,” Touya snarls.

“Oh—oh, I was just…” the man trails off as he releases her, the man’s eyes are wide and panicked, as they should be.

“Go back to whatever fucking sewer you crawled out of,” Touya spits out as he shoves the man’s hand away.

He puts himself between his friends and the rest of the paparazzi as they make their way past, scowling and glaring at anyone who gets too close.

Himiko quickly grasps Magne’s hand and the large woman rubs the blonde’s back soothingly as they speed-walk away from the crowd. Touya flips the leeches off over his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Himiko says quietly as soon as they’re free of the cameras.

Touya grunts angrily. “Fucking assholes should know better than to just grab someone like that.”

“I have alerted Aizawa to the situation,” Atsuhiro says as he continues typing on his phone. “He will likely be unimpressed by the physical force used, but I personally believe it was handled well.”

“You should’ve twisted his arm and left him with a sprain,” Magne says, voice low and furious as she continues holding Himiko close. “That was so messed up, honey.”

“No one has the right to grab you like that,” Tenko says, scowling angrily. “Handsy bastard.”

Himiko sighs and smiles softly. “Thanks, guys.”

“Hey, no one messes with our family,” Tenko says seriously. Touya snorts and Tenko narrows his eyes at the white-haired man. “Hey, you’re our mother, Dabi, you should take this more seriously.”

“The fuck!?” Touya shouts as the rest of their group laughs.

“You make sure we eat our vegetables and tell us to go to sleep on time,” Tenko says, scowl replaced by a shit-eating grin.

“You do yell at us when we get behind on our laundry,” Atsuhiro adds thoughtfully.

“You’re the best mom,” Himiko says with a grin.

Touya wants to shout and curse at them, but he knows that they need this distraction to get past the little incident, so he settles for kicking Tenko in the shin and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

He has a few new messages from his group chat with his younger siblings, which he ignores in favor of opening up his chat with Bakugou.

Bakugou: It’s up and running, asshole! [Link Shared.] Fuck off with that ‘can’t do it’ bullshit.

Touya grins to himself, opening the link and blinking in surprise at the mountaintop photos. They aren’t the greatest shots, but the view is gorgeous.

The article is Bakugou’s introduction, with a little backstory about learning to become a better person, and the contemplative powers of exercise, especially when done outdoors. The blog is well written, full of passion, and Touya doesn’t even realize his expression has gone soft until he feels someone poke his cheek.

He looks up and realizes the band are all staring at him.

“What?” He says, narrowing his eyes.

“Is it the guy?” Himiko asks curiously.

Touya grunts. “First post is up.”

“Oh, send it to me, please!” Magne says.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Tenko says, eyes bouncing between Touya, Himiko, and Magne.

“What’s new?” Himiko drawls, and Tenko squawks indignantly.

“I would also like to read it,” Atsuhiro says, staring thoughtfully at Touya.

Touya growls lowly and quickly sends the link off to their band group chat. “Fucking fine. I sent it to you assholes.” He goes back to his chat with Bakugou. “Now fuck off, we’re here. Go to your rooms and get ready to fucking go.”

“Yes, mom,” Tenko and Himiko say in unison.

Touya flips them off and veers away from the hotel elevator toward the stairs so he can avoid their stupid, smug faces.

Touya: That’s some good fucking shit there, doll.

Bakugou: Obviously.

Touya: I mean it, it’s really fucking good.

Bakugou:…Thanks. Or whatever.

Touya: Make sure your friend shut your windows so Queenie doesn’t get out again.

Bakugou: Fuck.

Touya: Well?

Bakugou: I may need help hiding a body.

—

“Thank you, Nagoya!” Touya yells at the end of their third and final set in the city, his voice echoing throughout the stadium. “You’ve been fucking awesome! We’ll see you on our next tour!”

Magne waves before linking arms with Himiko, Tenko turns around to take a selfie with the crowd, Atsuhiro bows, and Touya flashes a killer smirk and flips the crowd off.

It was a good night.

They all shower and change again, gather up the gear that they don’t trust the crew with, and head out to sign some autographs from across the fences, taking selfies with some people.

They all keep close to Himiko as an extra defense, and she is positively glowing with happiness when they finally reach the bus.

“All right, go the fuck to sleep,” Touya says as he makes his way to his bunk. “If I hear you assholes out here talking for the next hour, I’m going to punch Tenko.”

“Hey!” Tenko yells.

“I thought you wanted us to sleep, why’re you motivating us to be loud?” Himiko questions, winking teasingly at the blue-haired man.

“I hate all of you,” Tenko grumbles.

Touya snorts as he climbs into his bed. He tugs his ‘privacy’ curtain shut and retrieves his phone.

Bakugou: Fuck, my blog is going fucking crazy! It’s only been two days and I have thousands of subscribers! What the fuck!

Touya: It’s good fucking writing.

Bakugou: Fucking LOV shared it. What the actual fuck!

Touya: Yeah, I told them to read it.

Bakugou: Hold on a fucking minute You know the fucking LOV?

Touya snorts out loud, and then tells Tenko to fuck off when he asks what’s wrong.

Touya: Yup.

Bakugou: Fuck… That’s actually fucking cool.

Touya: You a fan?

Bakugou: One of my favorite bands. Shitty Hair and I go to their Tokyo concert every year.

A weird, bubbling feeling makes its way through Touya’s innards and it takes a moment for him to respond.

Touya: So, you’ll be at one of them this year?

Bakugou: Saturday night show, the tour-ending one. Dabi does this thing where he throws his shirt out into the crowd at the end and I fucking caught it two years ago. He’s hot as fuck.

Touya can feel heat rising in his cheeks and he sets his phone down so he can scrub over his face to attempt to force away the weird feelings that message brought up. His phone buzzes a couple more times and he takes a moment to compose himself before picking it back up.

Bakugou: It’s a little tight on me now, but it’s fucking soft. [Image attached.]

Touya opens the attachment and his jaw drops as he takes in the man in the picture.

It’s definitely the same blonde-haired, red-eyed man from the Chiba News website, but he’s smirking at the camera and there are no lenses obscuring his high cheekbones or dimming the color of his irises, which are nearly flaming in their intensity.

The image is angled to show his black v-neck—Touya’s shirt—which is so tight on the man it’s practically painted on over his plush pecs, molding to the dips and curves of a defined six pack, and pulled tight over the swell of his shoulders and biceps.

Touya drops his phone on his face.

“Himiko!” He yells as he rips his privacy screen open, tearing the already abused fabric further.

“Whoa, what’s up, Touy?” Himiko asks as he half-falls to the floor.

“I fucking… I can’t…” he shakes his head and rushes over to the sofa, shoving his phone into her hands before falling onto his ass. He covers his face with his hands and groans loudly.

“Holy shit,” Himiko says.

“Lemme see!” Tenko yells as he scoots closer. “Holy fuck! He’s hot! Wait, Touya, you good, man?”

“I believe he’s gay panicking,” Atsuhiro says.

Magne moves from the couch and crouches at his side, wrapping one arm around him and gently rubbing his arm.

“You’ll get through this, honey,” Magne says softly.

“Oh! He’ll be at our concert on Saturday!” Tenko says.

“We could give him VIP passes,” Himiko says with a shrug. “Then you could meet him in person after the show.”

“Fuck no,” Touya says, looking up abruptly and nearly smacking Magne in the chin. “He doesn’t even fucking know it’s me he’s been talking to.”

“But you know he has a crush on you,” Tenko points out.

Touya pushes off the floor and swipes his phone from the blue-haired man. He frowns down at the text chat, which Tenko and Himiko had been casually scrolling through.

“No, he’s got a crush on a fucking rockstar, not me,” Touya grumbles.

Another message comes through and the chat auto-adjusts so he can see the latest message.

Bakugou: I know I’m intimidating, but I ain’t gonna bite.

Touya: Shut up, I was just wondering how you have time to write when you must live in a fucking gym.

Bakugou: It’s called being dedicated.

Touya: Just not to your blog.

Bakugou: Fuck off. It’s up now, isn’t it?

Touya: Sure is, doll.

Bakugou: Stop fucking calling me that.

Touya: Pfft, not gonna happen. Well, it’s past your bedtime.

Bakugou: Ugh, I hate you.

Touya: Night, doll.

Bakugou: Whatever. Night, mystery asshole.

—

Touya is awake and dressed shortly before the bus pulls into their hotel in downtown Tokyo; not the fanciest place as that would draw too much attention, but one with a decent gym.

He has on black jeans, a plain black t-shirt, black sunglasses, and a black cap when he hops off the bus with his duffel slung over his shoulder. He spots Aizawa’s car pulling in and walks over to wait for the man.

Aizawa steps out and blinks at him. “Something wrong, kid?”

“Just really need the gym,” Touya says.

“Alright,” the older man says with a sigh. “Come on.”

Touya nods and follows the man in. The front desk attendant is an average sized man with hulking muscles and bright red hair spiked up tall. He has wide, almond shaped eyes and crimson irises. When he spots them, he flashes them a grin that shows off filed teeth.

“Reservations?” He asks, voice deep, but somehow bubbly and light.

“Yes, under Aizawa,” the man says, giving the redhead a critical look.

His eyes widen slightly, and he nods and starts typing on his phone. “Right.” His eyes flick up to Touya for a moment and he purses his lips. “LOV, huh?”

Touya crosses his arms. “What of it?”

“I assume there won’t be an issue with the press showing up, correct?” Aizawa asks, leveling the man with an intense stare.

“Nah, don’t worry about that, man,” the redhead says, waving nonchalantly.

He grabs a few key cards and scans them into the computer, and then holds one out to Touya and the rest in a stack to Aizawa.

“Thank you,” Aizawa says tersely as he walks off toward the doors to head back to the bus.

Touya turns toward the elevator, but the chatty redhead apparently has other plans. “You’re Dabi, right? The singer?”

Touya tenses and slowly turns back around. “You want a fucking autograph or something?”

“Oh, definitely,” the man says with a smirk. “Especially after that incident outside the cat café, your autograph is worth a ton right now. Girls and guys swooning over the knight rescuing the damsel.”

Himiko isn’t a fucking damsel,” Touya snaps. “Those assholes are all trained in self-defense. I made damn sure of that.”

The guy blinks in surprise and cocks his head. “Wow, that’s really manly. Anyway, can I get an autograph to sell online?”

“Whatever,” Touya grouses as he walks back to the desk.

“I’m Kirishima Eijirou, by the way,” he says as he pushes a blank piece of paper and a pen toward him.

Touya hesitates for a moment and then grabs it, signing Dabi, as well as the kanji underneath.

“Worth more with both,” Touya says.

“Hang on,” Kirishima says. “Could you sign… one more thing?”

Touya frowns. “Why?”

“My friend and I are going to your show on Saturday,” Kirishima says, and Touya nods. “He’s a huge fan, but we can’t afford VIP tickets, but an autograph would really make his day.”

Touya’s contemplative silence must’ve come off as hostility, because the guy’s nervousness quickly turns into irritation. “Look, you don’t have to be a jerk about it. Bakugou’s a good guy, he shouldn’t be pining after some asshole celeb anyway.”

Touya’s eyes widen, and he is very thankful for his sunglasses. He grunts and pulls out his phone, bringing up his very short text conversation with Aizawa.

“The fuck did you say your name was?” Touya questions.

“Um, Kirishima Eijirou,” he says, a little uncertainly. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna try to get me fired, man?”

“I’m giving you and your fucking friend VIP passes,” Touya says. “The fuck is the guy’s name?”

“Bakugou Katsuki,” he says, face lighting up. “Sorry for calling you an asshole and stuff.”

“It’s fucking accurate,” Touya says with a shrug. “You got an email for me to send this shit to?”

—

It takes forever for Saturday to come, and it simultaneously comes too quickly.

Touya’s bandmates had congratulated him on giving out the VIP tickets. He’s never given tickets to anyone before, not even his siblings. Aizawa seemed weirdly pleased by the gesture, and had given Touya an approving nod after he’d requested them.

Bakugou had freaked out and blown Touya’s phone up when Kirishima told him the news. They’d been texting as usual over the past few days, with Bakugou sending his latest blog posts as soon as they’re up, sending him pictures of Queenie multiple times a day, and both of them talking about random shit.

They’d gotten into an hour-long debate about the best mountain ranges to climb, Touya insisted Mount Nantai has the best view, and Bakugou couldn’t refute it because he hasn’t climbed there before, and that had the blonde raging while Touya felt smug.

But, on Saturday, Touya is all nerves, and Bakugou texting him pictures of himself in various outfits is not helping his anxiety any.

Kirishima is there, helping to take the photos, wearing a horrifically bright blue and white top, khaki shorts, and bright red Crocs.

Touya informed him he thought as much, and the redhead had abruptly stolen Bakugou’s phone.

Bakugou: Excuse you, I look amazing.

Touya: Your fashion sense is fucking atrocious.

Bakugou: Yeah, I’m sure you always look amazing, ‘Mystery Man.’ Have you guys seriously been talking for almost a month without him knowing your name?

Touya: I’ll tell him later.

Bakugou: Fucking Shitty Hair waited until I was fucking laughing over his shitty outfit to take my phone. I don’t know why I go places with him. Are you seriously gonna tell me your name?

Touya: Soon.

Bakugou: Ominous.

Touya: Just call me Kenji.

Bakugou: Fucking hell, I forgot about that.

A knock on Touya’s door pulls his attention away, and he quickly shoves his phone into his pocket and crosses his room, swiping his duffel up off his bed as he goes. He pulls it open, not surprised at all to find Tenko.

“C’mon, man, time to go!” Tenko says, his own gear over his shoulder. Touya huffs and steps out, tugging the door shut behind himself. “Man, I miss my bed.”

Touya groans. “Yes, the fucking bus always fucks up my back.”

“Seriously,” Tenko says as he stretches his shoulders out. “And I miss Keigo. He’s gonna stay up until I get home tonight. Er, well, tomorrow morning, I guess.”

“No wonder he always needs makeup to cover his eyebags,” Touya says with a snort.

“Hey, his eyebags are beautiful and I love them, even when they’re not hidden behind his eyeliner art,” Tenko says with a chuckle.

“Gross,” Touya says as they get onto the elevator.

Tenko just shrugs. “Hey, you get to meet your texting friend after the concert, right?”

“Yup,” Touya says plainly.

“You nervous?” Tenko asks; half-teasing, half-seriously curious.

“Oi, fuck off, I’m never nervous,” Touya bites out.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Tenko says.

Touya grumbles to himself, and tunes Tenko out as they make their way through the lobby and out the doors to the awaiting bus. The short ride to the venue will be the last time they see the damn thing until their next tour.

The ride to the arena is quieter than usual as all of the LOV spend the time sending out texts to friends and family members, making plans to meet up over the coming weeks of freedom before they have to get to work on more songs.

The bus pulls up to the back doors of the venue, and the band climbs out, heading straight for their dressing room with their pre-picked outfits in tow.

They have zero shame in changing around each other, so none of them give a single fuck as Tenko locks the door and they strip their clothes off.

Touya pulls on a pair of tight black jeans, held up by a white studded belt, and one of his black v-neck shirts. He grabs his guitar, setting it against the wall and leaning next to it as he scrolls through his phone.

He finally responds to the multiple texts from his sister, agreeing to go stop by for a family dinner in a couple weeks while their dad will be on a business trip.

Then he goes back to his favorite text chat.

Bakugou: Shitty Hair and I are at the concert. Probably won’t hear my phone if you text.

Touya: Go have some fucking fun.

Bakugou: Yeah, yeah.

Touya sighs as he pockets his phone, bored as there really isn’t anything else to do.

He looks around the room, everyone else is done pulling on their clothes and Magne has moved on to doing her makeup. She’s the only one of them who spends time on a full face, but nights like tonight when they have extra time, Himiko will likely let Magne paint her up.

Touya walks up to the long mirror and grabs his eyeliner pen—marked as his with a little strip of blue washi tape—and he lines his eyes in a thin outline of black, just to make the turquoise of his irises pop more. He’s always liked the look.

Tenko and Atsuhiro follow suit, putting on their own little bits of makeup. Atsuhiro is a basic bitch, simply powdering his face so he doesn’t look greasy.

Tenko keeps it pretty simple, lining his eyes and spritzing his hair with something that Touya thinks smells like decaying flowers; but Tenko likes it, so whatever.

Touya plops down on the far sofa and decides to kill the time with an e-book on his phone.

—

“Magic for the masses,” LOV says in unison, grins firmly in place on all their faces.

The lights inside the stadium are dimmed and Himiko pushes the stage door open.

They walk to their places, confident and energized. They want to go out with a bang so they have to make sure this concert doesn’t lull in any way.

Touya takes his spot, fingers clasped around the neck of his guitar as he waits for his friends to nod their readiness to him. The auditorium is mostly silent as the crowd waits for the usual start.

He sucks in a sharp breath, which reverberates around the auditorium through the microphone, and he roars out their opening.

“I hope you’re fired up, Tokyo, because we’re the LOV!”

—

Touya is soaked in sweat and panting heavily as their last song fades out. The crowd is going nuts, and Himiko lets out a loud whoop as she jumps in the air and pumps her fist.

“Thank you so much, Tokyo!” Himiko half-sings into the microphone, leaning up against Touya’s side.

“Come on, let’s celebrate the end of this tour with a selfie!” Tenko yells. Touya groans and Atsuhiro turns to give him an unimpressed look. Tenko laughs and looks back at the tattooed man, waving him closer. “Come on, Mister Cat Café hero!”

“Oh, shut up!” Touya yells as he steps over to where they’ve gathered on the left side of the stage, backs to the crowd.

“Dabi! Shirt! Dabi! Shirt!” The audience chants, and Touya runs a hand through his hair; it comes out soaked in sweat and he grimaces slightly.

“Dude, you started it,” Tenko says, barking out a laugh.

“For fucks’ sake,” Touya grouses, but a smirk twitches his lips up in the corners.

He tugs his shirt up over his head and the crowd goes nuts as his tattoo-coated torso and back are put on display, shining brightly across the multiple screens. Touya balls the shirt up, coils back, and throws it as hard as he can. Someone catches it and screams loudly.

“Thank you, and good night!” Magne says, waving at the crowd.

“Wash that fucking shirt, you sicko!” Touya yells, flashing the crowd a vicious grin as he flips them off.

“Never!” The person screams out.

Touya, Tenko, and Himiko crack up laughing as they make their way to the exit. It’s impossible to completely fight back the smiles.

While they all love touring, it’s always an exhausting few weeks. It makes Touya incredibly thankful to live in a country as small as Japan—he knows that places like America have tours that last months, and that sounds like a fucking nightmare.

The group splits up in the locker room, quickly showering and changing.

Touya pulls on a pair of black jeans and a loose white t-shirt before meeting the rest of LOV in the dressing room.

Then the nerves start really setting in.

He’s about to meet Bakugou.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Touya says, groaning and running his hands through his hair.

“Whoa, calm down, Touy,” Himiko soothes. “You’ll be fine.”

Tenko nods his agreement. “Just pretend he’s an NPC and act casual.”

“We’ll be there the whole time, honey,” Magne says with a soft smile.

“Magic for the masses,” Atsuhiro says, and everyone turns to look at him. Atsuhiro shrugs. “I’m asexual and have no helpful input. But know that I support you.”

Touya snorts loudly and Tenko cackles, while Himiko and Magne just shake their heads.

“Come on, mom, go get us a new dad,” Tenko chirps.

“Stop fucking calling me that!” Touya yells as he storms toward the door, face red with embarrassment and anger. Tenko pops up alongside him and opens his mouth to say something else that would undoubtedly be stupid, and Touya wraps his arms around him in a headlock. “No, you’re a fucking idiot. Shut the fuck up.”

“You gonna give me a timeout?” Tenko wheezes.

“I fucking might!” Touya snaps before releasing his best friend.

They reach the doors and Aizawa hands out their markers. Touya takes a deep breath and tries to force down his simmering panic, attempting to hide it behind a smirk.

Tenko and Himiko go up front and shove the doors open, letting security keep them open for the rest of the band, and the fans outside start screaming excitedly.

Touya forces himself to keep his eyes only on the things he’s signing as he goes so he can keep an air of ‘cool rock star’ going instead of ‘anxious man with crush on someone he’s never met in person.’

“Oh, you! Thank you for the VIP tickets!” A familiar voice yells out and Touya looks up at the owner of the folded, brand new LOV t-shirt in his hands; Kirishima.

“Ah, what’s up?” He says as he signs it. “Selling this, too?”

Kirishima grins. “It’ll get me way more than the paper!”

Touya cocks a curious brow. “How much did the paper get you?”

“50,000¥,” he says proudly.

“Damn,” Touya says.

Kirishima grins and starts turning to the side, eyes still locked on Touya’s. “Oh, by the way, this is—hey, stop hiding behind me, that’s not manly.”

“Shitty Hair, I will fucking kill you,” a deep, gruff voice snarls out.

Touya peers around the redhead at the blonde man attempting to hide behind his larger friend, a pink blush across his cheeks. Touya smirks and cocks a brow at Bakugou.

“Oh, scared to say hi?” Touya taunts.

“Oh, damn,” Kirishima says lowly.

“Fuck you, I ain’t scared!” Bakugou shouts.

“Come on, it’s your birthday, live a little,” Kirishima says.

“It’s your birthday?” Touya asks curiously.

“21 today,” Bakugou confirms as he finally rises to his full height, just a little shorter than Touya.

He’s wearing the shirt he’d gotten from the concert last year, and holy fuck, does it ever look amazing on him. Bakugou follows Touya’s gaze down, and flushes dark red as he crosses his arms.

“Fuck off,” he growls out.

“Cute,” Touya drawls, and ignores the growled retort from the blonde as he turns to one of the security guards. “Hey, I’m letting only these two across. Blondie and Red. No one else.”

“Got it, Mr. Dabi,” the guard says.

“Come on,” Touya says, motioning for them to hop the small guard rail.

“Fucking… seriously?” Bakugou says uncertainly.

“Don’t question him, Baku-bro!” Kirishima says as he hops over. “Come on!”

Bakugou grunts, but climbs over the rail, gracefully like a damn cat; the movement showing off the flexing muscles in his arms. Touya tears his eyes away and looks to his band, further down the line.

“Okay, you two, fucking follow me while I finish signing shit,” Touya grouses.

“Thanks, man!” Kirishima chirps.

Bakugou just grunts, but follows when Touya starts walking, making his way down the line. When he finally reaches the smaller, more private space at the end and meets up with the band, they all give him curious looks.

“Not a fucking word,” he warns them, and they all nod. He turns and gestures to the two newcomers behind him. “This is Bakugou and Kirishima.”

“We know,” Tenko says and Touya shoots him a warning look. The blue-haired man just grins and steps closer to shake their hands. “Ah, you both have good hands.”

“What the fuck,” Bakugou mutters.

“Your guys’ music is awesome,” Kirishima says with a huge grin.

“Thanks!” Tenko says cheerfully as he steps back. “Well, I must go and make my way back to my dear, beloved husband.”

“Shut up,” Touya says, waving him off.

“Okay, mom,” Tenko says, smacking Touya on the arm and pouting when he hurts his own fingers.

“I will be riding back with him,” Atsuhiro says. He nods to Bakugou and Kirishima. “It’s a pleasure. I hope to see more of you.” He turns back to Touya. “Goodbye, mother.”

“Stop fucking calling me that!” Touya yells as he flings his marker at the man. Atsuhiro chuckles lowly as he walks off behind Tenko.

“Mom?” Bakugou echoes, amused and confused.

Touya rounds on him and drags one hand down his face. “Don’t. It’s a long fucking story.”

“He’s our band mother,” Magne adds unhelpfully. Touya glares at her, and she ignores it. “It’s lovely to meet you both, but Himiko and I are also heading home.”

“Good luck, Touy!” Himiko says with a wink.

“Crash and die,” Touya deadpans.

“We’ll text you when we get home safely!” Himiko calls over her shoulder.

“I hope your smoke detectors fail!” Touya yells.

“Have fun, mom!” Himiko shouts, turning to walk backwards so she can flip him off.

“I’m quitting!” Touya hollers. “Fuck all of you!”

Himiko’s manic laughter echoes across the night air and Touya turns back to a very confused and amused Bakugou and Kirishima. Touya scowls as he tries to figure out what to say.

“So,” Kirishima drawls. “Are we gonna do something cool, man?”

Touya tilts his head as he considers that. “I guess. I’ve still got some food on the bus.”

“You’ll let us see the tour bus?” Bakugou asks incredulously.

Touya stares blankly at him, noting the way the lights behind him illuminate the edges of his pale hair like a halo, and then he nods and turns, heading toward the bus.

The two follow close behind him, and when they get to the large vehicle, Touya waves the driver off, telling him to just leave it for the night. None of their equipment is on it anymore, anyway.

Touya leads the way up into the bus, going straight to the fridge and pulling three covered bowls of white stew from his special mini-fridge before popping them one at a time in the microwave.

While he heats the food up, he watches as Bakugou and Kirishima take in the bus curiously,

“What’s it like living in this?” Kirishima asks.

“Fucking horrible,” Touya grouses. “We stay in hotels whenever we can.”

“I was surprised to see you at my hotel,” Kirishima says. “I kinda figured a band famous like yours would stay in the ritzy places.”

Touya shrugs. “Just need a gym, a kitchen, and beds.”

The microwave beeps for the third and final bowl, and he pulls it out, drops spoons into them, and holds two out for the other men. Kirishima thanks him and Bakugou grunts out something that could potentially be considered a ‘thanks.’

Touya grabs his own bowl and makes his way to the sofa, plopping down and crossing his legs up as he starts eating. Bakugou and Kirishima follow suit, sitting at the opposite end from him.

“Not terrible,” Bakugou says after swallowing his first spoonful.

“Seriously, I would love to eat like this every day,” Kirishima says with a sigh.

Touya snorts. “Then learn to cook.”

“Wait,” Kirishima says, eyeing him with amazement. “You cooked this?”

“That’s why I like hotels with a decent kitchen,” Touya says with a shrug.

“I can see why they call you the band mom,” Kirishima says, giving Touya a smirk.

“Oh, fuck you,” Touya snaps.

“Shitty Hair’s got a point,” Bakugou says, eyes glittering with mirth.

“Not sure why you call him that when your hair looks like a damn dandelion puff,” Touya grouses.

“I will fucking kill you,” Bakugou growls and Touya laughs.

“I’d like to see you try,” he says, smirking.

Touya and Bakugou quip back and forth through the entire meal, and it feels so natural, like they just fit together perfectly. Touya doesn’t often feel comfortable around anyone but his bandmates.

When they finish eating, Touya grabs their bowls and takes them across the small space, dropping them in the sink.

He turns to face the other two, crossing his arms, and steels himself. “So… how’s Queenie?”

“How’s…” Bakugou trails off and turns to Kirishima, brows knitted in confusion.

“I didn’t mention your cat,” Kirishima says, shrugging.

Touya scrunches up his nose and rubs the back of his neck. “I have no fucking idea how to do this.”

“Do what?” Bakugou says, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“Wait, didn’t Mystery Man say he was sending your stuff to LOV?” Kirishima says.

“Oh,” Bakugou says, blushing lightly. “Um, fuck—yeah. You probably had to read some of my shit.”

Touya frowns, not liking the weird, unexpected tone of self doubt. “The fuck?”

“I’m a writer,” Bakugou says, scowling in a way that’s distinctly anxious. “I write blogs and stuff, and this guy I’ve been texting—”

“Shut up,” Touya snaps. “I’m Kenji. Or what-the-fuck-ever name it was.”

Bakugou blanches and Kirishima throttles the blonde as he screams. “You’re the mystery man!?”

Touya winces at the obscene volume. “Jesus, calm the fuck down.”

“I’ve been texting you?” Bakugou says weakly. “I’ve… holy shit… I’m wearing… fuck.” He covers his face with his hands and groans loudly. “Are you going to put a restraining order on me or something?”

Touya blinks and cocks his head. “The fuck would I do that for?”

“I wrong numbered you and we’ve been texting for almost a fucking month,” Bakugou says, moving his hands to run them through his hair.

Kirishima narrows his eyes at Touya. “If you’re doing this to mess with my best bro…”

“I’m not,” Touya says, rolling his eyes. “The fucking assholes who call themselves my friends have been mocking me for my fucking crush on the phone guy.”

Bakugou’s hand stills and he blinks, eyes sliding up to meet Touya’s. “What?”

Touya huffs and sighs. “That’s why I gave your friend the fucking tickets. He said your name, made it a lot fucking easier to meet you.”

“Wait, wait,” Kirishima says, face morphing into a grin. “You’ve both had crushes on the guy you’ve been texting.”

Touya blinks. “Both?”

“Eijirou,” Bakugou hisses.

“Oh, he’s being going on nonstop about the mystery man,” Kirishima says, grin growing impossibly wider.

“You like me?” Touya asks uncertainly as he eyes the blonde.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Bakugo says, squinting at Touya. “You managed to kick my ass into actually start up my own blog, and you shared it and it’s barely even up yet and I’ve got a fuckton of followers and ad requests and other companies asking me to write pieces for them.”

Touya nods. “Yeah, you’re fucking talented.”

“Well, I just ordered myself a taxi,” Kirishima says cheerfully as he hops to his feet. “Baku-bro, please text me details later.”

Touya watches him leave before looking back at Bakugou, who is openly staring at him now. Touya sighs and walks over to sit on the sofa again, leaving only a half meter between them.

“I’m gonna go climbing up Mount Nantai next weekend,” Touya says. “Wanna come with me?”

“Fucking… seriously?” Bakugou says, frowning.

“Obviously,” Touya says. “I wouldn’t have gone through this trouble if I didn’t want to get to know you.”

Bakugou huffs, but nods. “Fine.”

Touya grins. “It’s a date.”

#dabibaku #dbbk #bakudabi #dabi x bakugou katsuki #my hero fanfic #my hero academia #aot fanfiction #ao3 link

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sinceileftyoublog · 7 months

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Dazy, Lifeguard, & Illusion Of Choice Live Show Review: 12/4, Cobra Lounge, Chicago

Dazy

BY JORDAN MAINZER

I'm not sure what Dazy does at a faster pace these days: tour or release tunes. Since we caught his Chicago debut of full-band arrangements in January, he's come to town twice more, including last night's stop at the Cobra Lounge. And mere months after releasing OUTOFBODY in 2022, in March, James Goodson shared songs recorded around the same time in the form of the cheekily titled OTHERBODY. The record continued the vibe of Dazy's debut LP, from the "Revolution" crunch of opener "I Know Nothing At All" to the sugary noise of "Every Little Thing". Just two months ago, Dazy shared the Ryan Hemsworth-assisted "Forced Perspective" (Lame-O), a collection of rounded country pop guitar riffs, a chirpy electric beat, and an uneasy, yet anthemic chorus.

Dazy's James Goodson

Always writing and always playing, it must be hard for Goodson to pick a setlist on a nightly basis. A year-plus removed from OUTOFBODY and over two years from MAXIMUMBLASTSUPERLOUD: The First 24 Songs, Dazy's set at the Cobra Lounge felt like as close as you can get right now to "the hits," the crowd pumping fists, banging heads, and singing along to favorites "On My Way", "Split", "The Perfect Crime", "Pressure Cooker", and "Invisible Thing". I was just as happy, though, to see Goodson lean into the sweet, softer side of Dazy. "Forced Perspective", with its curly bass and guitar scrapes, was a highlight, as was "Every Little Thing", "could be a country hit" "Rollercoaster Ride", and set closer "Out of Body". "Is that my brain hanging by a thread?" Goodson sang on "Out of Body"; as much as he may have been disassociating at the time of writing the song, his everyday anxieties have certainly provided ample creative fodder for some of the best power pop of the past half-decade.

Lifeguard

Chicago's Lifeguard opened for Dazy, which was perhaps anybody's final chance to see the band in an opening slot at a venue as small as Cobra Lounge. The hyped three-piece, formed in 2019, signed to Matador Records earlier this year. Let's get it out of the way: Yes, drummer Isaac Lowenstein's sister Penelope is in labelmates Horsegirl, and bassist Asher Case's father is Brian Case of FACS (and formerly of Disappears, The Ponys, and 90 Day Men). Thankfully, Lifeguard is a beast of its own, combining chanted vocals with clanging, metallic guitars and dexterous, repetitively pummeling drums. Earlier this year, Matador re-released the band's 2022 EP Crowd Can Talk along with a collection of new material, Dressed in Trenches. Live, Lifeguard showed what they're truly about: off-kilter time signatures, uneven song sections, moments where you can't tell when they're warming up or about to switch gears. When they played "17-18 Lovesong", Case's rounded bass and monotone vocals wiggled around Kai Slater's stabbing guitars and falsetto off-beat harmonies, though the band never let you get too comfortably hypnotized in a groove. They finished with their newest song, the uncharacteristically poppy and straightforward (yet very welcome!) "In The City". You never know what's next with Lifeguard, and they're just getting started.

Illusion of Choice

Starting off the night was another local institution, four-piece shoegaze indie rock band Illusion of Choice. Most of their songs revolved around the atmospheres you'd expect with a genre descriptor like that: Alex Rackow's distorted guitars, Judith Pelkowski's heavy bass lines, Alex Boyajian's mammoth snares, and Tyler Tumminaro's sharp, nasal vocal delivery. Occasionally, they added elements of jangly surf, but for the most part, they chugged along deliberately, like on "Circling the Drain" and standout set closer "Bad Boy". Overall, Illusion of Choice offered an appropriate middle ground between Dazy's hooks and Lifeguard's deconstructed songs.

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tennessoui · 3 years

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hello 👋 I was catching up on your tumblr like it's my weekly newspaper of choice and, um, if you ever fancied writing a snippet of obi wan getting the call after a concert about fire fighter anakin getting hurt it would be much appreciated 🥺

alright yes of course!!! i always try to give my asks whatever they want 🥺🥺🥺 here's a snippet of singer!obi-wan getting an 'anakin is hurt' call

(1.8k)

When Obi-Wan gets offstage, the first thing he does is check his phone. That’s what he’s been doing for months now, ever since he and Anakin started dating. It’s not like he can look at his phone onstage in front of all the people who paid to see Obi-Wan Kenobi, rock star. He has to wait, to not carry his phone with him at all up to the stage in order to triumph over the temptation of seeing what Anakin is doing right now, what silly thing he wants Obi-Wan to see.

It’s almost better like this. He gets offstage and he gets little presents from his boyfriend: horrifically cooked meals at the station, complaints about one of his coworkers’ new taste in music, awful jokes his sister has told him.

Tonight, there’s nothing.

He doesn’t think much about it though, not when he doesn’t have his boyfriend’s work schedule memorized. Sometimes the firefighters’ schedules shift on random days; someone calling out sick, someone available to cover a shift they weren’t assigned….It’s a big city, but a small firehouse. Obi-Wan isn’t worried.

Disappointed, maybe, that he doesn’t get to see Anakin’s twisted, disgusted face at Jesse’s attempt at dinner. Or his string of laughing text emojis to accompany a joke from Ahsoka. Disappointed, but not worried.

He chats with Kit and Quinlan the entire time back to his dressing room. The drummer thinks the opening song could use a little more rehearsal. The guitarist thinks it’s fine. Obi-Wan hadn’t heard anything definitively out of place, but he’s always alright with more rehearsal. He wants to give the best performance he can to the fans. It’s that simple.

He’s alone for a few minutes when he changes from his performance outfit into his normal clothes. It’s just after ten p.m.

He thinks about calling Anakin, as it’s only 8 in the evening in his city. Surely that’s too early to go to bed, even for a night off-shit. He thinks about it the entire time he’s changing into jeans and a t-shirt, the entire time he’s wiping off his stage make-up--nothing drastic of course, but just enough to be visible in the stage lights, just enough to look a little ghoulish in the warmer lights of the dressing room.

It doesn’t take much to break him, he’ll admit. He really, really likes Anakin. They’ve been dating for eight months now. He’s almost completely comfortable saying that he loves Anakin, but he doesn’t want to scare the other man off. Sometimes he thinks that everything he feels is too big and too dramatic for everyday life, that being in the spotlight from such a young age ruined him for anything private and selfish ever again.

But loving Anakin feels private, feels selfish. It feels right, amazing, like he’s a bandit robbing a small bank and just hopping on the train leaving town. It feels like he’s getting away with something he never should have even expected to have.

Anakin doesn’t pick up.

This too is excusable, as Obi-Wan hardly expects his boyfriend to wait by the phone, anticipating his call. Anakin’s messages during his concerts are gifts for a reason. They’re not mandatory, they’re unexpected.

Going into a serious relationship like this, they’d both understood the importance of their already established lives. Obi-Wan could no more give up a concert in favor of a call with Anakin as Anakin could go off shift and call Obi-Wan.

He packs the necessities he’d carried with him into the dressing room and looks around, if only to make sure he has everything and he’s not leaving too big of a mess.

Ahsoka calls him on his cell, when he’s halfway between his dressing room and the bus. He almost doesn’t pick up because he doesn’t have Ahsoka’s number saved into his contacts. But her city area code is the same as Anakin’s, and he picks up the call.

“Obi-Wan?” Ahsoka sounds like she’s half on the call and half not. “I couldn’t unlock Anakin’s phone, but I saw you were trying to call him.”

Obi-Wan pauses and leans against the wall. “Yes, I was,” he says slowly, his gut trembling with a bad feeling. “Why are you calling me, Ahsoka?” He hates sounding so abrupt, but he can’t help it. He needs to know. Perhaps Anakin is asleep, and Ahsoka is trying to ward off any further calls in order to let her brother sleep.

“Anakin’s in the hospital,” she says grimly and straightforwardly. Faintly, Obi-Wan thinks he can appreciate her no-nonsense attitude. She gets directly to the point, even though the point iis dangerously sharp.

“No,” Obi-Wan shakes his head, even as he slowly slides down the wall he’s against until he’s sitting on the floor. “No, he can’t be. I talked to him a few hours ago.”

“There was a call,” Ahsoka sounds so close to crying. No, Obi-Wan thinks. Impossible.

“But I just talked to him,” he says, clearing his throat. “I just….”

“There was a fire out on Temple Street,” she says thickly. “He’s in the hospital because a pillar fell on him. Trapped him in...in a burning house.”

Obi-Wan inhales sharply. If he hadn’t been sitting down already, he would have fallen to the ground. “But I--” I just talked to him, he thinks. As if it matters.

“He’s not critical anymore,” Ahsoka tells him. “But he’s still in surgery. Invasive, but. Not overly risky is what they told me.” She sniffles.

“I’m twenty hours away,” he says faintly.

“I know,” Ahsoka says into the phone. “I know. You’re almost on the other side of the country. But...they didn’t know to call you and I thought you needed to know.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Obi-Wan hears himself say. He needs to move. He needs to catch a plane. No matter expensive. He needs to get to the airport, get to Anakin.

Anakin’s hurt. Anakin needs surgery.

It’s Quinlan that finds him in the hallway, guitar slung over his back.

“Obi-Wan?” he asks, offering a hand out without explanation.

“Anakin’s in the hospital,” he says blankly, staring straight forward at the other wall. “He got hurt in a fire.”

“Then let’s get you there,” Quinlan replies instantly, pulling Obi-Wan up. “Come on. We’ll get you straight to the airport. I’ll tell the fans of the next concert.”

“We need to give them a refund,” Obi-Wan says distantly as he lets himself be led out to the tour bus. There are screams of fans, but it’s like he can’t even hear them. He’s underwater. Nothing matters as much. Nothing matters at all. Anakin needs surgery. Anakin’s in the hospital. Anakin’s hurt. He’s in the hospital. He needs surgery.

“We will,” Quinlan reassures him, leading him onto the bus. He tells the driver something harshly, quickly, and then not even a minute later, the wheels are in motion.

Anakin is in the hospital. Anakin had been hurt. He’d been in a building when it’d collapsed. How had Obi-Wan never even thought to worry about this? He worries about everything, but he’d never even thought of Anakin, of what Anakin’s career means. Sometimes he doesn’t get out. Sometimes Anakin doesn’t save the day. Who saves him?

Obi-Wan only realizes he’s making a weird noise with his throat when Quinlan clasps his hand. “We’re going to the airport,” he says with absolute surety. “We’ll get you to him, alright?”

Obi-Wan nods. What else is he supposed to do? He just talked to Anakin. He was fine then. How can someone go from fine to needing surgery in less than three hours?

He calls Ahsoka within the next fifteen minutes, as soon as it sinks in that this is happening. It doesn’t make sense, he can’t wrap his head around it, but it’s happening anyway. He’s ten minutes from the closest airport. Quinlan’s already got him a ticket. He’s coming. He’s almost there. He just...he needs to know Anakin is….that Anakin is……

“He’s still in surgery,” Ahsoka tells him softly. She sounds so small, so unsure. He’s only met her a handful of times, but he knows this tone does not belong anywhere close to her. “I don’t know, Obi-Wan. Please get here.”

Around the sixth hour after his concert ends, Obi-Wan cries. He leaves the official announcement to Quinlan, because he’s a coward. But he loves Anakin enough to type out a tweet anyway. It’s nothing too dramatic, nothing too honest either. There’s been an emergency. He’s sorry. He’s not sorry enough to not go, but he’s sorry enough to talk to fans. There’ll be a refund, maybe a rescheduling.

His entire life feels up in ends, but he talks about rescheduling. He doesn’t know what else to do. When the flight attendant tells him to turn his phone off, he puts it down until she’s passed by.

He looks out the window of the airplane and he can feel his tears soaking into his beard. Anakin is alright, he keeps telling himself. Anakin has to be okay. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Anakin isn’t okay.

It’s suddenly so amazingly clear to him that if Anakin were to--to not be alright--Obi-Wan’s life would never, ever be the same. Never. They’re intrinsically linked together. Why wasn’t he contacted when Anakin was first brought to the hospital? He needs to know this. He needs to know as soon as Anakin is hurt. He can’t stand the idea that Anakin had been injured halfway through his set, maybe at the end, maybe before it even started.

He needs to know as soon as it happens, if it ever happens again.

He never wants it to happen again. He never wants Anakin to be hurt, to be unresponsive, to be so far from him that Anakin’s sister has to let him know what’s going on.

He needs to be something different, something more. Something that makes everyone understand that he needs to be informed immediately when anything happens to Anakin, his Anakin. His….

Husband. Husband would work. If Anakin were to marry him, Obi-Wan would get preference to every medical incident experienced. Obi-Wan could be there. Yes. Husband

Husband.

Obi-Wan wipes the tears from his eyes slowly as he stares at the backside of the seat in front of him. Husband. If he were to be Anakin’s husband, he’d never be third in the information chain. He’d know immediately when something happens to his...to his husband.

Anakin could be his husband. Obi-Wan would ask him. It would make everything easier. It would mean Obi-Wan would know anything wrong as soon as it happened. He’d be the first in the chain of information.

He wants that, he decides as he cries into his airplane food napkin somewhere over the Great Plains. He wants to be the first. He wants to know. He wants to be there everytime Anakin wakes up from an injury. He wants to hold his hand.

Nothing else will ever make him feel any better. He needs it.

#asks #firefighter au #he does marry anakin in the next few months #as soon as anakin gets out of rehab #for his injury #the tour is postponed so obi-wan can take care of his boyfriend/fiancee

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drakenology · 3 years

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Yeah, My Boyfriend’s In A Band

guitarist!todoroki x fem!reader

summary: something straight outta wattpad! you go to a rock band’s concert and stand front row of the stage. The band’s vocalist /guitarist catches your eye and.. well, the rest is history! this is the story of how you first met.

author’s note: soooo.. how yall been? i kinda said fuck it to the schedule i made. why force myself to make content when I just can’t ya know? I’d much rather upload content when it’s at it’s best. so enjoy! I used some lyrics from some of my favorite rock songs for this, can you guess em? Also the art work above isn’t mine!

warnings: smut (duh.), drug use (weed), size kink, pinch of daddy kink, spitting, degradation

It was a hot Saturday night. You were all dressed up and excited to see your favorite heavy metal band the Diaspora play in your city. You were a huge fan, their posters adorned your bedroom walls. You’ve been a fan since they first came out as a cover band.

The members were all pretty fuckin cute, especially the band’s front man. Todoroki Shoto.

He was so handsome; black and red half and half hair, grey sullen eyes, the sexy scar on the left side of his face only adding to the edginess of his visage. His tattoos coated his left arm in a sleeve, his eyebrow pierced as well as his lower lip. He was fucking hot. Obviously not the kind of guy who would pay any attention to you right?

You threw on the Diaspora t-shirt you bought just weeks before the show and tied it in the back so it could be a little cropped and called your uber, frantically spraying perfume in a panic that you were going to be late to the concert. You ran outside, saying goodnight to your roommate as you rush out the door and jump into the car.

“Hey. I’m Shoto Todoroki and I’m the lead singer and guitarist for the band The Diaspora. Hope to see you guys at the show tonight at 8.” You hear as smoothe and sultry voice play over the radio.

You swoon and text some buddies who were also going to the show in excitement, the rush going straight to your brain in a haze as you blast some of their music in your headphones.

When you arrive to the stadium, you spot your best friend from highschool Nejire Hado. You two actually grew up together and even graduated together. It was like you two were sisters, inseparable since birth. Nejire saw you and waved excitedly, squealing with glee and motioned you to come to her spot in line.

“Y/N!!!! Over here!!” She yelled, causing you to run over and jump up and down with her.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here!” You say.

“Me either! Hey, did you hear? There’s rumor’s going around that their having an after party after the show! We have to go, Y/N please say yes.” Nejire rambled, clapping her hands with an inability to contain her excitement.

You look down at your shoes, unsure at first. What if you aren’t even allowed inside? It could be VIP only.

“Fuck it. Let’s go!” You say, causing Nejire to scream and laugh with joy.

Suddenly, the band’s security comes outside to greet the fans waiting to come inside for the show.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please enter in a single fil-“ the poor guy couldn’t even finish his sentence before hundreds of eager fans rush past him and squeeze into the stadium doors, running as fast as the could to get to their seats.

Luckily for you and Nejire, you had front row tickets. Those days of refreshing the page for them as they sold out every second really paid off. You grab Nejire’s hand and run inside, elbowing and clawing your way through to your spot with your best friend by your side. The lights suddenly go dim and the crowd goes insane.

The show’s about to start. You heart seemed to float up into your throat as you stood sweating and nervous, Nejire screaming her head off and jumping up and down when the band came rising up from the bottom of the stage. Smoke covers them for a while until it clears and all you see is Todoroki standing above you, the real him finally being exposed to you as you gaze from the crowd.

He was even more handsome in person. Tonight he wore black jeans and a white band tank top ,showing off his muscular and tattooed arms. Chains hung on his hip and his boots as he propped his foot up on the amplifier in front of him.

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” He screamed into the mic, causing the crowd to scream impossibly louder. He smirked, causing you to feel woozy just seeing him look so smug, as if he knew the effects he had on his fans.

You could’ve died right there a happy woman as the band started to play their hit single, the gritty sound of the electric guitar sending chills up your spine as you and Nejire headbang and dance to the music. You sing along to the top of your lungs, watching as Todoroki owned the stage. You gaze up at him again to see something completely and utterly unbelievable.

He was looking right at you.

You gasp, your eyes widening as you lock eyes with him. Shoto kneeled down towards you and reached his hand out to you. You almost scream and grab his tattooed hand with both of your own and smile at him, keeping your eyes focused on his. Shoto took your hand and kissed it as he sang a pretty racy part of his song to you,

“I wanna take you home.” (sleeping with sirens fans?? your nickle aint worth my dime???? NO?)

Oh. My. God

“OH MY FUCKING GOD! Y/N, HE-“ Nejire screamed, just as excited as you. You stood there shocked and flustered, staring into space. Todoroki fucking Shoto just kissed your hand. Shoto smirked and let your hand go, continuing the rest of his show in hopes you got the message. He wanted you. It was common sense that you go to the afterparty now.

The show continued for another 2 hours, Todoroki now dripping in sweat from the hot lights shining upon him and his band.

“Thank you all so much for coming out. For those invited, I’ll see you all at the afterparty! Goodnight everyone!” Todoroki bellowed to the crowd, causing them to cheer him and the band off the stage.

You stand there, high off of every guitar riff and belt from the performance feeling sad that the concert was over. But a rush of hope filled your heart in knowing that you were going to see Shoto again soon. You and Nejire walk out of the stadium hand in hand as you discussed the plan to get to the party.

“So the party is not too far from here, exactly 15 minutes away. We could totally call an uber.” Nejire explains, saying that it’s going to be held in Todoroki’s mansion.

When you both arrive at Todoroki’s Mansion your jaws drop. A huge fountain greeted your uber driver’s car, cobblestone driveways leading you towards his front door. There were hedge sculptures all over the front yard and expensive cars adorned the driveway as you and Nejire step out of the car to see the line to get into the party. Damn. More lines.

You approach the security guard; the same one from earlier that night with a nervous wave.

“U-Um excuse me sir, we’re on the list..” You said unconfidently. Nejire nervous laughed and nudged you for sounding so unsure after giving you a long confidence pep-talk in the car.

“Sorry, kiddo. I’m not seein’ an ‘Y/N’ or a ‘Nejire’. Back o’ the line, ladies.” The security guard huffed, hardly even looking at his list.

“Nah it’s cool, Ben. Let them in.” You hear a familiar voice utter before you get the chance to turn around and walk to the back of the line. Sure enough it was Todoroki standing there, joint lit and eyes hazy. Clearly stoned.

It was like he got more gorgeous as you got closer to him, your cheeks heating up as you realize you’re literally standing in front of your fucking celebrity crush. Nejire squeals and runs inside to go find the drummer and get his number, she says drummers do it harder.

Shoto took you by the hand and led you inside the rager in his foyer. The smell of beer and weed absorbs your nostrils as you walk inside with Shoto in hand, watching as Nejire talks up the drummer with ease as if she already knew him from way back when.

Todoroki sat down on the most comfortable couch you have ever sat in with you next to him, taking a big drag of his joint and motioning it towards you.

“Wanna hit? It’s not laced. Promise.” He said cooly, slowly blowing out the smoke. You take it and take a hit, coughing a little as you puff out the smoke.

Damn this must be what rich people smoke.

“Good huh? Grew it myself. Heh.” Todoroki laughed a little as he watched you take another hit.

“Shit. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, finally.” You say, nervousness coating your tongue. Shoto gave you a warm smile, his hazy eyes gleaming in the dim lights of the room.

“Gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl.” Shoto said, kissing the same hand he did at the concert.

You heat up, your panties becoming slightly wet at him touching and kissing you. He smirked and grabbed you by your chin to make sure you look him directly into his grey orbs.

“When I saw you in the crowd, I almost couldn’t keep my eyes off you.” He said into your ear, causing your mind to block out any outside sound that wasn’t his voice. You gulp, blinking dumbly as you try to find the words to say something.

“I-I, um. Th-thank you.” You say, looking down into his lap. Shoto pulled away to smoke his joint a little more. You two talked all night, everyone around you both becoming irrelevant as you seemingly grow closer together.

Strangely, none of the rumors about Todoroki were true. He wasn’t this stuck up asshole the media made him out to be. He was calm and gentle, the sweetest guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of having a conversation with. You learned so much about him that night. He was so misunderstood.

You’re high now and completely hazy as you and Todoroki make out on the couch. You’re not sure how you two even got to this point but you loved it. One thing led to another and now you were straddling him on the couch, his hands in your back pockets as he groped and squeezed your ass.

Your lips mingled as you moan into the kiss, Todoroki’s tongue slipping into your mouth to make home of it. The kiss got so hot your pussy was sopping wet underneath your jeans as you mindlessly grind against him for some kind friction.

Todoroki pulled away and started kissing your neck, damn near ripping your clothes off in front of the entire party. You’re gasping and grabbing at his clothes, forgetting where you are as you become desperate for him. You wanted him so bad and you knew he wanted you too.

“Wanna get out of here? Go upstairs I mean.” Shoto asked, huffing into the skin of your neck as his hard dick poked at your thigh.

“God yes.” You say breathily. As soon as he got your consent he carried you upstairs, the party raising their glasses and their blunts in celebration for Todoroki getting some.

“YES! Y/N tell me everything okay!?” Nejire yelled drunkenly, pulling away from her makeout session with the band’s drummer. You giggle and wave down at her, Todoroki laughing softly as he watched the interaction between you and your best friend.

“Just so you know, princess. I’m not going to go easy on you.” Shoto said, pinning you against the hallway wall.

“I don’t want you to.” You mewl, leaning into his neck to nip at it. Shoto let out a low chuckle and nearly kicked down his bedroom door, tossing you onto his luxurious california king bed.

You take a quick look around his darkly colored room, black walls with coordinating grey funiture. Posters of his inspiration adorned his walls, almost similar to your room just $100,000 richer. He had a mirror above his bed as you look up at your reflection you see Todoroki crawl on top of you, unbuttoning and pulling your jeans off in one fell swoop.

You’re immediately embarrassed, forgetting it was laundry day at home so you threw a thong on because you didn’t have anything else to wear. It was black and lacy and oh so skimpy you quickly move your hands to cover up in shame, Shoto grabbing your wrists and pinning your hands above your head.

“Heh. How’d you know I love lace?” Shoto teased, practically salivating at the sight of your smooth legs beneath him. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Shoto said, running his hands along your sides as if he was a lion playing with his prey before he ate it.

You bit your lip, dripping and hungry for some kind of touch in the places you needed him most, your nipples prodding at the thin fabric of your band tee. Yeah, you forgot to wear a bra. Shoto pulled your shirt above your head, tossing it somewhere and hissing at the sight of your bare breasts.

“No bra either? Man.. it must be my birthday. I’m gonna have fun with you, princess.” Todoroki says taking a nipple into his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you as he suckled gently following with short lick causing your entire body to catch flame.

You start moaning miserably, your whole body begging him to take you. Shoto pulls away from your nipple with a light pull of his lips and slips his hand down to your slit, caressing it agonizingly slow to tease you. He takes his other hand and presses his thumb to your lips.

“Open your mouth.” He rasped. And you did, sucking on his thumb as he rested it on your tongue making Shoto moan at the sight, humming a ‘good girl’ under his breath. Shoto held your mouth open and spit, pulling you into a sloppy kiss as he plunged his thick digits into your needy hole.

You arch your back off the bed, biting down onto Shoto’s lip as he finger fucked you without mercy. Your moans filled the air, Shoto watching you intently as he took your breast into his mouth once more.

“Sho- ah! I-I’m gonna-“ You bellow, trying to hold onto something for dear life as he brought you closer and closer to your peak.

“That’s daddy to you, princess. Try again and maybe I’ll let you cum around my fingers.” Shoto hissed, slowing his pumping fingers a bit to ensure you got the point.

He was in control. You pant, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath only for it to get caught in your throat again. Desperate moans fall out of your mouth as you beg him to let you cum.

“D-Daddy!~” You gasp, Shoto leaning into your neck, his ear right next your mouth as you scream for him. You collapse into his arms, fucked out and stupid off Todoroki’s strong fingers. All those years of guitar weren’t for nothing.

“That’s it baby.. fuck, you made a mess.” Shoto cooed, slowly dragging his fingers out of you as he watched your slick stick to him sloppily. At this point, he’s so hard you can clearly see the veins in his dick jumping out of his pants, his size making you wince in pain before he even entered you.

“Think you can take all of me, princess?” Shoto asked, throwing his contricting pants and boxers somewhere across the room, releasing his impressive size for you to see. You gulp but nod, licking your lips at the sight of him.

Shoto smirked at your reaction and pumped himself a few times before teasingly tapping the head of his dick against your clit, causing you to yelp from the sensitivity of your abused core.

“Pleaseee.” You whine, Shoto grabbing you by the neck and choking you almost to tell you to shut up and be patient. He wastes no time in plunging into you, the thickness of his dick stretching your walls with a delicious sting.

You claw at his back as he bottomed out, gasping sharply as he filled you completely.

“Am I hurting you?” Todoroki asked with what little sympathy he had left in his body. You shook your head no, moaning as he stayed still inside you.

“P-P-Please move..” you mewl, chewing your bottom lip. Shoto smirked and began rutting his hips into yours at a rough pace, not really caring if you adjusted to him or not. Hard slaps and the sound of your whiny moans filled the room as the headboard of his bed slammed against the wall, probably alerting the entire party downstairs.

You’re screaming now, a moaning mess beneath him as he split you wide open. As your eyes rolled to the back of your head, Shoto throws your legs over his shoulder and starts pounding into you.

He’s going to make sure you’re unable to walk straight for the rest of the week, marking you as his.

“Fuckkk, daddy. S-Slow down.” You pleaded only for Shoto to ignore you and continue his pace, laughing at the shocked and fucked out face you were pulling.

“Told you I wasn’t taking it easy on you. Did you forget already, princess?” Shoto breathed, moving his hands to rub shallow circles into your clit.

Your toes curled up tightly as your orgasm ripped through your body, your moans reaching a cresendo as your scream Shoto’s name.

He hissed as your walls fluttered around him, your pussy gripping him tightly as he fucked into you continuosly.

“I hope you didn’t think I was through with you just because I made you cum. I’m not done yet, doll.” Shoto muttered through your pathetic whines for him to slow down.

He cooed praises at you, a “good girl” here and a “you take my dick so well” there until his thrusts got rusty and sloppy; a sign he was close to cumming.

“Shittt, where do you want me to-“

“I-Inside m-mee! Fuck, cum inside me!” You shriek. And so he did, fucking his hot stickiness into you for a while as you both moan and pant. Shoto rode out your climaxes for a while before slowly pulling himself out as he watched his cum ooze out of your abused pussy.

As Shoto flopped on the bed next to you, you both stare up at the mirror on his ceiling. You’re both sweaty and your hair was a fucking mess from being tossed around the bed for what seemed like hours.

“Shit. Probably late as fuck by now. You wanna stay the night?” Shoto asked, taking your hand and famously kissing it once more. You smile and nod, unable to form coherent sentences as you feel yourself doze off.

Todoroki jumps from his bed and opened the door, screaming from the top of the stairs, “Oi! All you motherfuckers can fuck off home!Party’s over!” You laugh and throw a pillow at him.

“Don’t be so mean, Sho. Uh.. C-Can I call you Sho?” You ask embarrassed.

“You keep fucking me like that you can call me whatever you want, angel.” Shoto groans, grabbing you by your face and kissing you sweetly.

“Honestly, I wanna go again. You down?”

#bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha imagines #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha todoroki #bnha todoroki shoto #punk rock au!

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chronic-claire-universe · 3 years

Text

Tokyo Revengers: Heavenly Kings RockBand AU

In this ice cream parlour even in the deepest hours of the night we want to forget about what happened in last chapter so here:

RockBand AU, the band called “Heavenly Kings” formed by 5 people, imagine them playing: Maneskin - I Wanna Be Your Slave

LINE UP

Singer: Ran Haitani

Solo Guitar: Takashi Mitsuya

Rhythm Guitar: Shion Madarame

Bassist: Chifuyu Matsuno

Drums: Ken Ryuguji

Warnings: Mentions of Sex, 18+

“Not again pigtail!” a voice shouts from the backstage, “Draken dressing like this means having girls, having girls means selling our new album and paying the rent for the house!” Ran explains putting the long customed kimono, Mitsuya’s sister specially prepared for him. Every member of the band trusted Mana for their stage clothes, “I don’t mind using them, it’s comfy and I don’t want to disappoint my little sister” Mitsuya says calm while according his guitar, “THAT’S BECAUSE YOU DON’T FUCKIN PLAY THE DRUMS!” Draken shouts, reality was that he felt ridicoulous wearing those eccentric clothes, “Then we can decide by show of hands” Chifuyu suggest, Ran smirks looking at Shion who’s asleep on the couch, “Wake up idiot it’s time to play!” Ran says to Shion who confused, opens his eyes, “Let me fuckin sleep, that fuckin girl got me dried wanting my cock all the day!” Shion says vulgarly says “Whatever Ran decides it’s ok by me!” he continues. A sigh comes from a defeated Draken who gets off his hoodie and start to put his western kimono jacket with bare chest showing. Heavenly Kings’ trade mark, elegant jackets, chiseled chest and abs on the view, Chifuyu smiling happily turns to Mitsuya and says “Maybe tonight I will find a girl!” a loud laugh is heard from Shion who says “If someone notices you let me know, otherwise I’ll give you one of the chicks on the first line”, but suddenly an arm surrounds Chifuyu’s shoulders “No one wants the loose chicks who fucks with every musician in Tokyo Shion”. It wasn’t that Ran hadn’t experience with people, but he prefer choosing someone more reserved than some girls who just wanted him for his figures, Draken has Emma and he wasn’t even looking other girls, Mitsuya only wanted to play and Chifuyu well, we know.

“Ok guys it’s time” the club’s manager says, indicating the way to the stage, a door opened and bright and colorful lights alert people that the long awaited 5 guys were starting! “HEAVENLY KINGS HERE FOR YOU!” Ran says as soon he hits the stage making girls and boys screaming in excitement “Ran I love you!” “DRAKEN!”Emma shouts from the bar with Mikey and Hina, Rindou staied in silence embarassed to say anything about his brother. “Ok this is I wanna be your slave, let’s sing together!” “ I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master... I wanna be a good boy, I wanna be a gangster ,'Cause you can be the beauty. And I could be the monster!” guitars and bass start following the rhythm and Chifuyu starts to jump hyping, someone launch him slip making him blush and mistake some notes. Ran sinously takes Mitsuya mic stand and watching him he smiles making fangirls scream at the scene, Mitsuya just smirks and from behind Draken look up to the ceiling because he can’t believe that his singer can be such a stupid. Sweat starts to form on the drummer after a while and suddenly when he recognize it’s time for his solo the one of the drumsticks flees from his sweaty hand making the drummer takes one from his behind and standing up he goes crazy leaving his jacket and starts crashing the drums cymbal singing the chorus making the public follow his lead, the delirium is everywhere, people drunk moshing, girls with bare chest who screams everyone of the band’ names hyping them, especially Shion who suddenly jumps from the stage and plays his only solo in front of some girls who try to hug tim. Time leaps and when Ran announces the end of the concert thanking everyone from the public and presenting his bandmates, “And finally the dork! Our singer, the one who can’t help but tease everyone from the public with his charm, RAN HAITANI!” Draken and Mitsuya say together making Ran protest like a whiny baby.

“Did you really needed to do that?” Ran says cleaning the make up with some cotton wet with makeup remover “We needed, you’ve been such a tease! I told it wasn’t comfy playing with this jacket!” Draken replies trying to explain his mistakes, suddenly a knock on the door is heard, “Don’t want to reject the nth bitch who came to fuck whoever she wants” Ran says a bit pissed off, “Hey it’s just us nii-san” Rindou says opening the door followed by Emma and Mikey, “Ah ok sit down” he says smiling with half face with make up. “Fuyu, did you get the numeber of slip’s owner!” Ran continous as he even forgot why he was angry, “Ohh-oh she’s waiting for me at the bar!” he says blushing, suddenly a rain of condoms falls on him, everyone of the band launched different condoms, of different size and Chifuyu blushed “I’m not fuckin her idiots!” Chifuyu says, bewildered by his bandmates act, “Rookie” they say in unison only Mitsuya seems to have some mercy for the bassplayer “Just do what you feel to do, we take your things, see you tomorrow!” “Yee tomorrow virgin!” Shion shouts, “Tomorrow atta boy” Draken says patting his head, and Ran just smirks and says “Have fun!”.

“Bets?” Emma says suddenly making everyone flinch, “W-what?!” Draken replied shocked, “Mmm I’m in, 6 rounds the first one 1 minute and the others increase every of ten minutes everytime” Rindou says “I agree with Rin” Ran says, “Just two long 20 minutes each” Mitsuya says, “He runs away after coming 2 minutes after starting” Shion says placing a piece of 50, “Are we really using money’s merch to bet about Chifuyu first fuck?” Draken says still shocked, “The one that loose is going to bring back everything from here” Ran says as it was nothing “Ok I agree with Mitsuya, but then he will run cause he can’t leave Peke J alone for too much” .

Who’s gonna win? We will discover only on next story!

@httptamaki @thesimphouse @nymphoglia @nkogneatho

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers au #ken ryuguji #ran haitani #mitsuya takashi #shion madarame #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu smut #shion madarame smut #tokyo revengers smut

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ill-skillsgard · 3 years

Note

I need Faust and Faith's reunion after he's done touring 👉👈 No pressure or anything. I just miss them a lot!

I always miss Fausty boy! I have some other prompts I wanted to incorporate into this one, but it was getting too long. I hope you enjoy!

Warning: 18+ mentions of public sex, mature language, anti-religious overtones, mentions of blood, violence, death, and drug use.

Summary: Faith goes to her first black metal show and asks Faust about the black circle.

- Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

The duelling guitars screeched through twin stacks of speakers and filled the auditorium with malfeasance. Faith had never witnessed such a carnal reaction. As she watched from the side stage, the crowd below opened into a whirling pit of black-clad showgoers, pushing, jumping and banging against each other. The drums kicked into a blistering rhythm, and her attention turned toward the man she barely recognized with white and black makeup painting his face like the ghost of a demon.

Faust punished his drumkit with expert precision, his arms blurring in the chaos of their first song. His black hair swung as he banged his head without missing a beat. Horned and studded limbs spilled over the metal barricade, tongues lolled, and eyes lit with blissful fury. The singer's growls seemed to rise from the depths of hell, a monster shrieking at its thralls for more destruction.

Even with earplugs in, Faith felt the music blowing back in waves, shaking the column of her throat and turning her brain to mush. She dared slip one plug out to hear the true volume and quickly stuffed it back in when the intensity struck.

During the ambient interludes between songs, the crowd roared still. A few hundred people raised their hands, praising the men on stage. It reminded her of church, how they would let their eyes roll back, chanting the hymns and facing their palms skyward. This was no church she had ever set foot inside. The walls were painted black, the floor sticky from spilled beer, and its congregation made her gathering's displays of loyalty seem demure. The air reeked of salty skin and malt embedded in the paint from nights like this.

Faith saw people wearing shirts with Faust's band logo on the front, and a burst of pride warmed her belly. Though she was remarkably out of place, there was an odd sense of welcome. She could run headfirst into the crowd and get swallowed up and spit out like anyone else.

When they finished their set, Faust retired his drumsticks to a holder, chugged an entire bottle of beer and took a brief bow to the crowd before walking off stage. Faith bounced as he approached and scooped her off the floor, smearing her face with paint from around his mouth. When he set her down, his lips were partially visible through the now grey muck.

"How was it?" Faust asked.

"You guys are amazing. That's was so cool, babe!"

"Ah, you're just saying that."

"No, really! I can't believe how crazy they went for you!"

Faust sneered playfully, though their reception had been one for the books. "Probably 'cause half the crowd are friends of ours."

"Doesn't matter. You still kicked ass."

Faust's smile was unbreakable from a show well played and seeing his girlfriend waiting for him at the side of the stage. He led her to the green room as stagehands and managers nodded them through and let her dab the corpse paint off her face in the bathroom. Faust sopped up the sweat in his hair with a towel and changed his stage clothes before Faith returned. His bandmates soon joined them, and the chatter was unintelligible. People from other bands came in to talk and congratulate the young group on their first cross-country tour, and soon the back was filled with people hanging VIP badges from their pockets.

Faust pulled Faith from the bedlam before the room grew too hot. They made their way to the main floor and the rows of merchandise tables. Faith couldn't help but feel privileged to have access to the other side of the tables where Faust told her she could stash her coat and purse while a lineup of fans waited to purchase t-shirts and albums. Admirers pulled Faust away several times to take photos and shake hands. Faith watched in awe as people took turns posing with her boyfriend, who stayed looking stoic in his half-melted face paint. Her boyfriend. People from all walks of life wanted proof they'd met him, asking him to sign album covers and tour posters.

When Faust broke away from the clamour of excited metal fans, he took Faith's hand and pulled her through the crowd to a stairwell guarded by security. He flashed his tour badge, and the guard permitted them to the balcony where a few other musicians sat in a less crowded area.

"Come on, let's go outside. I need a fucking smoke," Faust said.

They went through a set of metal doors to an outdoor balcony where two men leaned against the railing, passing a joint and chatting. One spotted Faust, and a smile cracked over his face.

"Hey, Faust. Great show, man. We watched from the balcony. You guys were fucking killer," the man passed the joint to the drummer.

He hauled a significant bout of smoke into his lungs, then expelled it into the night air, handing it back with a nod.

The man refused. "Pass it to the lady."

"She's good," Faust said.

"I'll take a hit," Faith countered.

Faust glanced at her, brow raised high. "You sure?" He chuckled.

"Yes. I'll be fine."

Faust handed her the joint and turned to his fellow musicians. "Thanks. Glad you guys enjoyed the set."

As Faith inhaled, the other man turned to her and offered his hand to shake. "Hey, I'm Janne."

"Faith," she mouthed around a lungful of searing smoke.

"This is Yosh," Janne gestured at the man who'd initially offered Faust the joint. "Good to meet you."

"Is this your girlfriend, Fausty?"

"Yeah. She's my girl."

"Aw, that's cute. Didn't take you for the relationship type, to be honest. You like this scary son of a bitch?" Yosh asked.

Faith giggled as she looked up at the towering man dressed in black while he lit a cigarette. "He's not that scary. At least not to me," said Faith.

"Good man to have by your side at a show. You might get trampled down there."

"This is actually my first show."

Yosh choked on a hit and coughed, "really? And you came to a black metal show? That's ballsy."

"Well, it's not really my thing, but I wanted to see them play. I came from out of town just to be here tonight," Faith said proudly.

"Oh, right. You guys are from the green belt, right? Or should I say, the black circle?" Janne tittered.

Faust's eyes grew stony. "No. I'm not part of that shit. Bunch of fucking posers."

"We were just talking about the church fire there a couple weeks ago. You guys are known for that, aren't you?"

"I don't know. Guess so," Faust shrugged.

"They said there was a body found after they put out the fire, and it was nailed to some pieces of wood...like a cross or something. Can you believe that shit? How metal is that?"

Faith swallowed. She had heard the news break the day after the fire before they announced the unidentified body and after Faust had surprised her at the bus stop. They had prayed about it in church the following week and set up a collection to bulldoze the wreckage and reconstruct the chapel even bigger than before. Her mother was so stricken from the news that Faith had to spend a night at her parents' house consoling her while her father bad-mouthed the city's youth.

Bunch of heathen Satan-worshippers in this town. If I'd have known how disgusting some of these people are, I'd have never moved us out here.

Faith, her sisters and their mother all huddled on the sofa watching reruns of Full House while Stan stood hard-backed at the front window, peering out every few minutes as if the culprit might attack them next.

Oh, Stan, you don't know who did it. You can't point the finger when the police haven't even updated the community. Give the embers a chanced to cool. Besides, it's places like these that need the most help. We'll raise the money. I just hope to God they catch the people who did this.

All Faith could think about as she ate her sundae next to her sister was what she was doing the night after the fire. While the fire department was busy putting out the flames across town, she was pressed against a brick wall getting fucked by one of the heathen Satan-worshippers her father despised. She tried not to connect dots that had no business forming any kind of picture. Faust's appearance had been a coincidence.

I'll tell you who did this... It's that damned black circle. They've done it before, and they'll do it again.

Faust waved a hand in front of Faith's face, and she flinched from her reveries. "Babe? You there?"

"Oh, sorry," she laughed. "Kind of zoned out."

"Wanna head back inside?"

Faith didn't realize she was shivering until Faust rubbed her upper arms. "Sure. Yeah, let's do that."

"One puff of a joint, and you're on another planet, huh? Good seeing you Janne, Yosh... We should tour again."

"Yeah, man. As soon as possible. We're always on the road. We'd love to have you out for as many gigs as you guys can handle."

Faust nodded and clasped hands with both men before urging Faith along with a palm on her bottom. Once they made it inside, he snuck his fingers under her skirt and pinched her hard enough to give her a jolt but not to hurt.

"Faust!"

"What? No one's looking. Hey, you wanna check out our tour bus?"

Faith went to the balcony railing and saw the next band setting up their gear. She pointed below and turned to Faust. "Won't we miss the next band?"

"You actually wanna stay and watch?"

"Uh, yeah! This is my first show. I wanna see all the bands."

"All right. We can stay up here or go to the floor. But I'm warning you, it can get ruthless down there."

"I want to go down. It looks fun."

"Then we have to go now. We'll try to get right up front where you won't get swallowed in a circle pit."

"Really?" Faith gasped. "Like, right up front at the barricade?"

"Sure, why not? If you want the full experience. I'll stand right behind you and make sure crowd-surfers don't land on your head. Then after, I'll show you the bus, and...I dunno...Probably fuck."

"Oh my goodness, Faust. Yeah, right!"

"I'm serious. I'd fuck you right here if there weren't people around."

Emboldened by his suggestion, Faith whirled around and stared up at him with her brows lowered. "What's all this about the black circle?"

Faust scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"I've heard it mentioned before and that you're part of it. I just wanna know. Is it some kind of gang?"

"Do I look like I'm in a fucking gang? No. It's just some dumb shit they made up in high school."

"They as in your friends?"

"It's stupid and means nothing."

Faith stood in place. "Well, they're saying that church burned down because of your friends. Aren't you afraid someone might ask you questions?"

"I'm not afraid of shit because I've been on tour this whole time."

"Faust—"

"What did I tell you about the twenty questions? Now, do you wanna go watch the show or do you wanna keep talking about irrelevant shit?"

Dissatisfied with his response, Faith clammed up and followed Faust to the main floor. They wriggled through the tightening crowd and got upfront before the lights lowered, and a gust of smoke covered the stage. Ominous chanting heralded in a band dressed in black hoods. Faith watched, awestruck, but in the back of her mind, thoughts of the black circle fermented, giving off a foul smell she couldn't ignore.

After the headlining band opened with pyrotechnics and the frontman tossing a skull of pig's blood over the crowd, Faust took Faith around back, where the tour buses formed a barrier between the street and the venue. He led her inside and turned on the light to reveal the interior in a state of disarray. Beer bottles overflowed in the sink, ramen noodle wrappers littered the floor, and spiked leather decorum hung over seats and tables. There was a shredded porn magazine, its contents pinned to the wall and drawn over with a black marker, breasts shooting fire and snakes slithering out of places that made Faith blush.

"Sorry about the smell. Touring always has a distinct odour of unwashed balls and puke."

Faith tried not to touch any surface until Faust showed her to the back lounge area, where they sat and looked at each other in prolonged silence. Faith reined in a smile while her boyfriend sat back and studied her face.

"I'm glad you came. Sorry that it's probably more chaotic than you expected."

"It's okay. I'm having fun."

"You sure? I know it's not really your scene."

"You're my scene," Faith said.

He reached for her hand. Faith thought he meant to hold her, but he tugged her closer instead, straddling her over his lap. His hands came up under her skirt and over her ass while they kissed. Faust pulled away as she rocked her hips forth and placed his hands on her hips.

"So, how's school?"

"You're really asking me about school when we haven't seen each other in weeks?"

"What? Is there something else you wanna do?"

"I think you know what I want."

"Yeah, but I want you to say it."

Faith peered down the hall, past the bunks, toward the front of the bus. "What if someone comes in?"

"Not like my band hasn't walked in on you sucking my cock before."

"Oh my gosh, don't remind me."

Faust darkened, pulled air through his teeth. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course, I missed you. How is that even a question?"

He tilted his hips up and let Faith drop when he relaxed. She tugged his shirt up to appreciate the trail of hair leading down from his navel.

"What did you miss the most?"

"Your big, throbbing heart," Faith giggled. "I missed cuddling with you and going on walks together. Waking up with you beside me. Your cooking."

Faust pulled her down for a hug. "All right, all right. I get it. You wanna fuck, just not in the bus."

"Do your bandmates fuck girls in here?"

Laughter burst from his mouth as he rocked Faith back and forth. "They fucking wish."

The couple chuckled until another silence proceeded. Faith saw the fiery look in Faust's eyes, the appetite for her body that never tapered, his joy from having her there on his tour bus. Yet, all Faith saw was a building on fire, flames flickering behind his green stare. She smothered the thoughts with a kiss Faust took for permission to explore under her skirt again. Maybe she could kill her suspicions by reminding herself how much he loved her, the lengths he would go to protect her.

Voices yelled outside the bus, distracting Faith but not Faust, who rolled beneath her hips, oblivious to the arousal shooting through his groin.

"Yeah, come on, baby. Pull my cock out and sit on it for me. It'll be quick."

"Faust!" Someone shouted outside of the bus.

Faith pushed on his chest and perked toward the sound.

"Where the fuck is that asshole? First, he fucks off for an entire day, loses his phone, makes us cancel a show, and now the prick can't be dicked to help load out because his bitch is here? Getting real fucking sick of the bullshit, Ola."

"Mordy, chill out, man."

The bus door opened, followed by a waft of cigarette smoke. Boot tread hammered across the floor, and Mordy swayed through to the back, scoffing when he saw Faust with his girlfriend perched on his lap.

"You wanna take apart your drumkit, or are you just gonna let it sit in the way of everyone's gear? Oh, sorry, should have known you were too busy to be fucking bothered."

Faust lifted Faith off his thighs, and she bounced on the sofa as he shot up and stared Mordy down. The bass player didn't flinch.

"What? What're you gonna do, Faust? Punch me out? Good thing it's our last show. Wouldn't want your personal business getting in the way of the biggest tour of our fucking lives so far."

"You don't know shit, so I suggest you shut your mouth."

"No, I'm not gonna shut my mouth. Someone has to stand up to you, and none of these pussies will. Go load out your fucking gear, man!"

Faust smelled whiskey on Mordy's breath. He was far too sober to start a fight with the bass player and nodded, shouldering past him. Mordy crashed into the wall and cursed as the drummer stomped off the bus, leaving Faith fidgeting with the edge of her skirt and unsure if she should follow. Mordy scoffed at her and exited the bus after Faust, shouting until she no longer heard him.

When Faust returned, Faith stood up and wrang her wrists. "Should I leave?"

"We're both leaving," Faust muttered as he tore open the zipper on his backpack and scrounged up his clothes and stage effects to stuff inside. He ducked into the small fridge and took four bottles of beer, sticking two in the holders of his bag and pocketing the other two inside his leather jacket.

"Come on. We're out of here."

"But, neither of us have a car, and we're far from home," Faith said.

"Call a cab."

Outside of the bus, guitar cases and boxes of merch waited for loading. Faust opened a tote, wrenched open a steel moneybox and took some of the cash inside. He found Faith's coat and purse and passed them to her before kicking a hole into the plastic container. Mordy and Ola noticed this as Faust walked away with Faith in tow.

"Hey, asshole! What do you think you're doing? You can't just fucking take off with the merch money!"

Faust turned around, grabbed his crotch and flipped them off. "Suck my dick, fuckbags. Find a new drummer."

#faust x faith #valter skarsgard fanfiction #fanfiction

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aclosetfan · 3 years

Note

ask game number 10?

(ask game) thank you so much for asking!!!!

BUBBLE BAND ♥♥♥

YESSSS YESS haha yessss someone chose 10!!!!!! So pumped for this one. For new fandom members (lmao I’m like a damn fandom historian), battle of the band fics got really popular for half a second b/c of the punks. I outlined my own where the punks are included but with a twist. No powers au, multi chap fic.

My outline is really detailed because I know I’m going to be writing this one!! It’s just too much fun, but I’m only gonna give you the jist, I don’t want to spoil too much :))) I’ve got like six pages of notes and I’m still not done mapping it all out. It’s supposed to be goofy as well as a big s/o to everyone who watched cringy amvs on youtube in the early 2000s <3

BACKGROUND:

Brick (lead guitar), Butch (bass), and Boomer (drums) are three brothers with a shitty garage band. They think they’re hot shit. They’re not hot shit (not yet). They’re good at playing their instruments but they don’t have a big following (or any good songs). On a good night, Mojo (their adopted father) indulges them and brings the crowd to a stunning total of 1.

PLOT:

One day, Boomer gets it in his head that he doesn’t want to be a punk rocker anymore. It’s dumb, he’s bored, and obviously, he is the next Picasso, so he quits the band. Brick all but disowns him as a brother. Butch is like dude I’d be cool staying in the band and Brick goes “you don’t have a choice!” Butch is like “aight, but now that Boom’s gone, can we maybe play a song I wrote?” Brick’s like, “no!” Butch is like “aight. That’s fair it’s dumb anyway. No harm, no foul bro. How are we going to get a new drummer as good as Boomer?” Brick’s like, “we’ll find someone better!” They won’t because, to give credit where credit is due, Boomer is quite a good musician.

Butch is like well this still sucks though cause we just got all those t-shirts. Like we’re broke af and they’ve got Boomer plastered on the front of them too. We can’t just replace them. Brick’s like “we’ll find someone better and someone who looks like him nbd.”

Brick and Butch don’t know any other drummers and they certainly don’t know anyone who drums and also looks like Boomer, so they make flyers~

“Annnd,” Brick chirped, grabbing the page from the printer, “done. There. Perfect. We just need to make like a thousand more of these and post them around the City.”

Butch yanked the flyer from his hand with a frown, his eyes jumping around it before he grimaced, “Man, I dunno.”

“What?”

“Must have blonde hair, blue eyes,” Butch looked up, “reads kinda neo-nazi-ish.”

Brick ripped the page from Butch with wide eyes, rereading the flyer. After a second he hissed, “Ah fuck. Fucking Boomer.”

“He ruins everything.” Butch solemnly agreed.

“Fascist can’t even be punk.” Brick huffed, glaring at the flyer.

Together they sat back in their chairs and regarded the flyer before turning their attention back to his cracked computer screen. After a few moments of hmm’ing and haa’ing, Brick snapped his fingers and leaned over his keyboard. He made the font big, bold, and red so it couldn’t be ignored at the bottom of the flyer:

‘CAN’T BE A FKING SKINHEAD’

“Dude,” Butch nodded, reading over his shoulder, “it’s beautiful.”

And then the boys post the flyers everywhere. Including their school, where most people ignore them regularly. Their flyers however become popular scratch paper for the art department where one Ms. Bubbles Utonium stumbles upon them. She takes it as a sign. She’s a bit of a drum hobbyist, but her dad has had enough of the racket and she needs to find a new place to play. She’s not practiced or anything, but she fits the four requirements to a “T”. She has blonde hair. She has blue eyes. She can play the drums. And she isn’t a skinhead! She thinks it’s silly they even had to clarify that. She’s not too into punk music but even she knows fascists can’t be punk! So on the day of auditions, she shows up with her drum sticks and gets in line!!

Brick and Butch are floored when Bubbles Utonium comes strutting in. They only know her because she’s a popular cheerleader at their school and shares an art class with Boomer, who only ever complains about the perky upbeat girl. Their first thought is to laugh, but when she starts playing, they’re like “oh?” She’s inexperienced, but she’s got a knack for it, and (as Butch points out) she is not a skinhead. Since she’s the best they’ve seen all day they offer her the position on the condition that she dresses like a dude when they play because of their t-shirt dilemma. She tells them that’s no problem, she likes playing dress-up, but they’ve got to work band practice around her cheer schedule. They agree.

The RowdyRuffs are a band once more.

Boomer btws is NOT AT ALL jealous. Not at ALL. Nope. (he totally is and he’s very obvious about it). In one of the early band practices that he barges in on to “check out the new drummer,” he’s ten shades of betrayed when he sees Bubbles of all people in his seat. He does not like Bubbles. Bubbles thinks Boomer is the bees-knees. He doesn’t like her because she’s good at just about everything he wants to be good at—except for drumming, which he proves then and there and is like “your new drummer sucks, later losers, you wish you still had me, by the way, dad wanted me to tell you he’s making tacos and they’ll be ready in ten.” Bubbles is not deterred by his behavior, thinks how he plays is really cool, and wants him to teach her, which he continuously refuses to do, but that doesn’t stop her from pestering him. (eventually, he does tho just a fyi; Bubbles is hard to resist)

Jumping forward in time, Princess becomes involved as their PR manager and decided that Bubbles shouldn’t act as Boomer anymore. They need “horny old man money” and everyone’s like ooooh yeah, horny old man money, neat! So, in all her genius, Princess decides to make Bubbles “Brat.” And boom! Here’s our first powerpunk girl.

It’s a hit with the crowd that the band is slowly starting to amass. After accidentally hearing Butch goof around on his bass, Buttercup ((((Bubbles’ sister, who at the beginning of the story takes pity on Butch and Brick and volunteers to help teach her sister how to be “punk rock”. She is also forced to drive Bubbles to and from band practice (because Buttercup is being punished for failing math)))) encourages him to pitch his songwriting to the rest of the band. He refuses. Brick’s the guy who writes the songs, who’s very bad at it.

However, after another shitty song about some mystery girl Brick swears he doesn’t have a crush on, Bubbles has enough and assigns the boys some songwriting homework. Butch writes a banger and their little band gets more recognition. They’re now playing sizeable gigs, but wait! OH NO! Bubbles and Butch aren’t going to make it to the show on time. Boomer’s like, “shit Brick! The show must go on, dude, but where are you going to find two people who know how to play the exact same instruments as Butch/Bubs, know all their cues, and all the songs in the next ten minutes????” Brick looks at Buttercup (plays bass like Butch/almost at all the band practices/has a lovely voice despite what she says) and Boomer (who was Bubbles before Bubbles) and goes “huh, genius, I wonder.” Buttercup’s like “oh no, wait wait! I’ve got stage freight!” To which Brick says, “get over yourself and join my shitty fucking band!”

And that’s how we get our Brute <3 (named by Brick). She’s a hit!

They just keep getting bigger and bigger as a band, and record labels are starting to take an interest, so after Brute debuts, everyone’s like welp, Brick needs his counterpart too. And it’s eventually Blossom, but that comes about in a roundabout way because Brick’s feelings are still hurt (she’s the girl he was crushing on, but she rejects him). Eventually, Bubs is like “listen, Brick, we need a Berserk (Butch name’s this imaginary person), and it's coming down to the wire. Blossom can do it. I know she can. It’s for the band.” So, he sucks it up and Blossom hesitantly accepts (she’s very much preppy pop to whatever Berserk is lol so it’s difficult for her at first). After a heart-to-heart with Brick, they make amends (I think I’ll leave it platonic for now tbh) and their first show altogether is a hit!

As always, there’s a happy ending :) They get their record deal lol.

I can’t write songs. I’m shit at poetry, but I was thinking about just choosing irl music and mashing them up, so the music is still “original” but people can also be like omg I remember that horrible song from my emo “phase.” I have to find a good song list first. If anyone’s still reading send me some recs. The music I like is too embarrassing.

#my writing #my outlines #outline ask game #BUBBLE BAND #this one just makes me smile because I get to listen to all my music from middle school #don't get me wrong middle school was shit #but the music was top notch #ppg fic outline

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mouse-fantoms · 4 years

Text

Reggie’s Magic

Imagine if we get a scene where like the boys try to change their looks to be more with the times. Be it because people online started talking about how Julie has such a cool style and then “the phantoms” style feels very 90’s and it would be cool if they got a change.

The phantoms are in the garage and Alex makes a comment about how bangs are “so 90’s” to Luke after he makes a comment about his look.

“Really? Then what do you suggest I do?”

Reggie very excitedly says, “Ooo! Let me try!”

He pushed Luke down in the chair by the couch so he can work his magic. Luke can feel him running his fingers through his hair, trying to manage it.

“Don’t worry, I have a vision.” He reassured.

“So worry.” Alex concluded.

The response passed by Reggie since he was too “in the zone” with trying to tame the hair.

Luke suggested, “Hey, maybe if this turns out well you can go next.”

“No, I’m good.” The blond shook his head.

“Alex would you mind getting me hair spray?”

“Hair spray?” The brunet became alerted.

A smirk appeared on the drummers face before he poofed out. It was usually Luke who would call the shots but this time was different. Reggie and him held the power this time.

~~~

Julie’s attention was caught when she heard her aunt’s shouts of terror coming from the hallway. She opened her door to see Tia running down the stairs shrieking only to have her dad and brother run to meet her at the bottom of the stairs.

“THE DEMON IS NOT GONE!” She managed to say to her nephew and brother-in-law.

Demon? ...oh no.

She had told them to be careful. Although she couldn’t blame them for forgetting that there were ghosts and that everyone but her can’t see them.

“Where?!” Julie saw her little brother get excited.

“CABINETS! UPSTAIRS! BATHROOM!” She spaced our her words.

Carlos immediately passed her and sprinted up the steps to catch the “demon” in action. His sister beat him to the bathroom since she was closer being just in her room. She immediately closed the door behind her.

“Oh come on Julie!”

“Sorry! You can wait your turn for the bathroom!”

“Are you serious?” She heard him sigh. “But one of your ghost band people is in there.”

She was reminded of why she ran into the room in the first place. Her eyes met the ghost in the bathroom. He was a deer in headlights once she came into the room knowing he was in trouble.

“What are you doing in here?” She asked defeated. “It better be a good reason for scaring my aunt.”

“...looking for the kitchen?”

She crossed her arms.

“Ok, ok, before you get mad I was just trying to find the hairspray.”

“Hairspray?”

“Don’t worry not for me. Reggie has this vision for Luke’s new hair.”

“New hair? Wait, is this about the comments that were on our video the other day? I told you guys not to look too much into those.”

“Well we didn’t but then we were talking about it and then Reggie got excited and we haven’t seen him like that in awhile and could I please just get the hairspray and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

She comeplied but instead of bending down to the open cabinets under the sink, via Alex’s doing, she closed the cabinets, opened the bathroom door and exited. He stuck his head out to see her go into her room and seconds later return back with the requested item.

“You could have just asked me first rather than having to rummage through the cabinets and spooking my aunt.”

“But you were in your room and you told us not to go in there.”

“Glad to know that at least two of you understand that rule.” She said handing him the can. Well, trying to.

He did extend an open hand to take it but when she let go to give it to him his ghost hand phased right through it and the aluminum can clanked to the floor.

“Sorry. Let me try that again. Wasn’t concentrating enough.”

He bent down and Julie watched as his hand once again phased right through it but after a few attempts he was finally was able to pick it up.

“Will Reggie even be able to hold it considering you couldn’t the first try?”

“He’ll be fine. You should have seen how focused he was working his magic on Luke before I poofed out. Oh and,” he said a final statement before poofing out, “Luke has good intentions don’t get so hung up on him not following the rules. He’s always been kinda like that.”

That was easy to believe. Reggie seemed like a rule follower, Alex seems like he sometimes would but more often would and then Luke, yeah that made sense.

“Reggie, uh?” Her attention was turned toward her brother behind her. “Is he your drummer? Or the one with the guitar?”

She sighed knowing that if he already figured it out on his own there was no point in trying to hide it, at least from him. “Reggie is the one with the bass. The red guitar.”

“Which one was just here? Was it the guitar one? It was probably the guitar one. He gets really close to you.”

“Speaking of the guitar one,” she made her way to the steps, “I should check on them.” It’s not that she didn’t trust them by themselves on their own, well no that was the entire reason. Half way down the stairs she turned her body back to the top to remind Carlos, “No telling Dad.”

~~~

When she opened the doors to the garage she expected to see Luke with maybe his hair parted differently, maybe his bangs going to one side, she never, NEVER expected what she saw.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Luke said seeing her reaction to his new look.

“Do you not like it?” Reggie asked sadden.

“No, no, no!” She immediately felt bad looking over to him thinking he thought she didn’t like something that he did. “It’s not that it’s just...” she looked back at Luke in front of her trying to find the words, “it’s different.” She breathed.

“A good different?” He asked worried about the way she was acting.

“...it sure is something different.” Avoiding eye contact from it made it better. She just had to look at those “cold, dead eyes” as Flynn would say, which wasn’t a problem. “You know I think it looked better before, not to say that what you did Reggie doesn’t look good but-”

“Just on Luke it doesn’t?” Alex asked.

“Yeah! Yeah that’s it! It just doesn’t!” She became overly passionate about it. “It’s nothing on you! It’s just sometimes certain things don’t look the best on people! The old hair looked much better.” She began to slowly back towards the door. “This was a good talk and my brother may or may not come in here more often because I might have told him a little bit about Reggie-” she eyed the hairspray can on the table and took it. “I should take this back and yeah again this was a good talk.”

When she closed the doors behind her Luke looked back to his band mates with a confused expression.

“...I mean it does look a little weird.” Alex admitted.

“Yeah,” Reggie agreed, “I just thought it would be a change since we haven’t seen your forehead since like... when again?” He couldn’t remember the last time.

“Ugh.” He let out as he began to ruffle up his hair. “Your turn Alex.”

“No, no, no. I’m fine. I don’t need Reg’s magic on me. I do not need Julie blushing about me.”

“Blushing?” Luke asked.

“Did you not see it? She totally was.”

“You’re welcome.” Reggie took the credit.

When she closed the doors she leaned her back against them desperately holding the can of hairspray.

Reggie did not, he did not just style Luke’s hair like how she imagining him during dance class with Nick. At least he wasn’t wearing a white dress shirt or pants because if he was well, she probably would she become a ghost right then and there.

Lesson learned: Never leave Reggie in charge of a can of hairspray when Luke is involved.

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mickmarstookmyheart · 4 years

Text

Mrs Mars

Pairing: Mick Mars X Reader

A 'Trust' story. You can still read it if you haven't read the trilogy. If you are interested check at the Masterlist in my bio. The only thing you need to know is that Zoe is (Y/N)'s daughter and John is her abusive ex.

Summary: wedding, some Guns N Roses moments, fluff, and anger...in a nutshell

(4400 WORDS! Wtf)

“So what do you think?” You asked from Heather and Sharise. You had already tried at least five wedding dresses but you unsure about each of them.

“It looks stunning, darling.” Sharise said. She wasn’t really helpful, she was just busy about her nails and was looking for dresses for herself.

“I’m sure Mick will love it. Tell me what do you like about this dress? Why would you choose this over the previous ones!” Heather was a bit different. She helped you organize everything and gave you advice since she already had a wedding with Tommy. You meet with her and Sharise at a gathering where everybody was present. The band, Sharise, Heather, Tommy’s parents and sister, Athena. Also Vince’s children Elizabeth and Neil along of course with Zoe. This was the day when Mick proposed properly.

Throwback

“On a scale of one to ten how bad it would be us getting married?” Mick asked with a smirk. Always with his scales. You felt tears running down your cheek while looking down at Mick.

“Off to charts.” You said earning a gasp from him and everyone. “Let’s do it.” You were sure you could hear the rocks rolling down from everyone’s heart. Mick stood up and kissed you passionately.“

Throwback end

This thought was the only thing that helped you through this whole circus. Neither Mick nor you wanted a big wedding just a small gathering, but since everybody nagged you, you agreed. With John you didn’t have one, you just signed the papers and that was all. Now you know it was just because he wanted to have you as property.

"Well, I like the laces and neck. I think it will be the one. You smiled and sighed when you heard the doorbell rang. You turned and saw Vince with Zoe, Lizzie, and Neil along with Tommy. Tommy put Zoe down and she immediately started to run to you. You bent down as much as the dress let and hugged her.

"Hey, what are you doing here?” You asked and wiped the ice cream which remained on her lips with a tissue.

“We were eating nearby and we thought we might hop in to see our girls.” Vince said while sitting down beside Sharise.

“Wow, Aunt (Y/N), you look like a real princess.” Elizabeth said wide-eyed.

“Cause she is.” Zoe stated crossing her little arms proudly.

“Aww, thank you, loves.” You hugged both of them. “So, boys?” You put one of your hands on your hips.

“You are beautiful.” Vince said. Sharise was eyeing him jealously. You didn’t understand her because you were the one who gonna have a wedding soon with another man. Needless to say, Vince had already proposed to her.

“T-Bone?”

“I think it perfectly fits your body. And the color is perfect.” He said like a pro.

“Heather, what did you do to him?”

“Nothing.” She laughed before Tommy kissed her playfully.

“Then, I guess this is the one.” You admired the dress in the mirror.

“Are you ready to go?” You asked holding the large and heavy dress in your hand.

“Umm, (Y/N), can you watch over Neil and Elizabeth a bit? Sharise wants to look around here. We will go and pick them up soon, I promise.” He winked and kissed your cheek when you nodded.

“Of course, Vinnie. The three of them like to play together in the garden. Go and spend some time with her.”

“You are the best.”

“Zoe, Liz, Neil! Come here.” They ran to you giggling.

“Yes, Auntie?”

“Your dad has some programs in the afternoon so we are going on an adventure. What do you think? Are you ready, pirates?” They all cheered and were growling like pirates. “Then come to the ship and conquer the pool at our place! Heather, Tommy you coming?”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Tommy saluted and helped you bring the dress and put it in the back.

∆

“Look, mates! There is the enemy. The old grumpy Captain Blackhair.” Neil said holding a stick in his hand. He was pointing at Mick. The children including Tommy, Heather, and you were hiding behind the trees nearby the pool. It wasn’t your intention to involve him, but it was Neil’s idea so let’s be it.

“It is said that he eats children for lunch.” Tommy said spookily. Heather and you shared a 'are you serious?’ look. “Can we let him do that?” Tommy asked the children who were eager to combat the enemy.

“NO!” They held their sticks in the air screaming and invaded poor Mick. He opened his eyes for the noise and sat up. You and Heather were walking side by side approaching them to tell the children to spare Captain Blackhair’s life. You snickered when Lizzie poke Mick in the belly with her stick and Mick fell in the chair dramatically.

“Oh my! Why? Why I had to die in such circumstances?” And he always says you are the drama queen.

“Cause you eat children!” Zoe yelled giggling.

“Really? And who is saying that?” She pointed at Tommy who was a bit frightened and was walking backward. Mick narrowed his eyes.

“You are stabbed, remember, Captain Blackhair?” You threatened him to save Tommy from him. “I was about to tell them to spare your life but if you are looking at me like that, I won’t.”

“I want revenge!!” Mick coughed playfully and finally leaned back in the chair.

“Hurray!! Let’s go back to our ship and celebrate the victory!” Zoe shouted Tommy picked up Zoe on his shoulders. Lizzie jumped on Neil’s back and they jumped in the pool. They managed to splash water on you, luckily you were wearing a swimsuit so it was no problem, well for Mick…he was soaking wet and you and Heather couldn’t take it back anymore. You both burst into laughing making Mick roll his eyes.

“See? That’s why you should wear something more appropriate for summer.”

“Oh really?” He said while standing up. No way he would pick you up and drop you in the water right? That was your last thought when he began chasing you and push you in the pool. He was laughing at you but when you coughed his smile stopped. “Are you okay?” He asked bending down at the side of the pool.

“That wasn’t nice, Mick.” Tommy said and with that, he pushed him in the pool. Your heart stopped fearing he might hurt his back or something. Of course, Tommy didn’t know about his condition so he didn’t hurt Mick intentionally.

“Well, that wasn’t nice either, Tommy.” You glared at the drummer. When Mick came up from underwater he coughed.

“You are a dead man, drummer.”

“Are you okay?” You asked him looking into his eyes. Mick knew what you meant. He nodded and kissed your cheek to calm you down. “Come, help me!” Mick held his hand up and Tommy took it, and then Mick pulled his hand strongly making Tommy fell in the water. “Now, I’m okay.” He said proudly seeing Tommy coughing, too.

“Okay, I deserved it.” Tommy admitted after he could breathe again.

∆

“You still wanna do this?” Mick asked while you were laying in bed.

“And you are sure you are okay? I could still murder, Lee if you want.”

“I have already told you a thousand times that I have no problem so don’t change the subject.” You turned to him and supported yourself on your elbows.

“Mick, there is nothing I’m sure more than this. I mean, we can finally connect our lives officially, I guess. And I think (Y/N) Mars sounds good.” You were grinning at him and finally earning him a half-smile.

“It sure does.” Mick said before pulling you in a hug.

The day has come. Sooner than you expected. After you two woke up Mick went to the place the wedding will take place, though you stayed in the house and waited for your parents. Your parents lived far away, more particularly on another continent. You hardly spoke to them, you had a big fight with your mom when you left them. You were nervous, you were biting your lip and stomping your feet.

You faked a smile when the taxi stopped in front of the house. You grinned when you saw your dad. You liked him the most and he was the one you could rely on when you were a child.

“Hello, darling.” Your dad greeted and hugged you tightly. “Oh my, you have grown so much.”

“Hi, dad. Well, you, too.” You laughed rubbing his belly.

“Hey, it’s your mother’s fault. She is always in the kitchen and experimenting with food.”

“And you always sacrifice yourself? What a hero.” He placed his hand on your shoulder.

“I missed you, kiddo.”

“I missed you, too.” Your mother was standing on the pavement and was looking at the house. She didn’t look satisfied.

“Hi, mom.” You murmured.

“This house is much smaller than you had with John.” She was obsessed with him, from time to time you were sure she liked him as his own son. You hummed from the statement. You were disappointed, but not surprised. She walked beside you and went into the house without any greeting. You and your dad exchanged a look. He gave you an encouraging smile and patted your back. Cool.

“Coffee or tea?” You asked when the sat down on the couch in the living room.

“I would die for an espresso. Thanks, darling.” Your dad said looking around in the room.

“Still two spoon of sugar with no milk?”

“As always.”

“Mom?” She didn’t answer anything.

“Come on, Grace. You promised that you would behave.” Your father said.

“Okay, no thanks.” She mumbled and rolled his eyes.

When you were ready with the coffee you sat down in the armchair when you heard a noise. You turned your head towards the noise.

“Zoe, how many times do I have to say no running on the stairs?” You scolded your daughter.

“But, mommy look what I drew.” She handed you a piece of paper. You and she were on the art in your dresses you will soon wear. “Mommy, who are they?” She asked hiding behind your back.

“Honey, this is grandpa and grandma. Go greet them.”

“What a big girl you have grown. I haven’t seen you years.” They met Zoe once when she was baptized when she was a few weeks old. He smiled down at her and held his hand for her to shake which she took happily and shook it.

“Hello, grandpa.” She said before she hugged him. When they drifted she went to your mother. She was smiling. It was almost impossible to earn a real smile form her. The only person managed that was John and now, Zoe. She took the child on her knees.

“And how is dad, little one?” She asked her granddaughter.

“He is at the hotel. Where the wedding will be.” She said smiling. She was eagerly awaiting it, she always talked about it. You glanced at your mother who wasn’t happy. You guessed she didn’t want to hear Zoe but you saw something in her eyes, she was about to say something.

∆

“You okay, Mick?” Vince asked him, waiting in one of the rooms of the building. The guitarist was walking around and couldn’t settle himself down.

“Yeah.” He murmured looking in the mirror. Tommy and Nikki were bothering with their bowties. They didn’t manage. After all, they were wasted, cause they were just clumsy. Mick and you threatened them if they dare to drink or do drugs, you will kick their asses.

“Oh come on, man! You look ridiculous. It’s not even straight.”

“Well, just like you, Sixx.” He snickered.

“Can you please shut the fuck up?” Mick snapped. They stopped laughing and walked to him.

“Just calm down, Mick. Everything is gonna be okay. Trust me.” Nikki winked.

“I wouldn’t trust you with my bottle of vodka.” He looked at him. “But thanks. I appreciate it. And sorry for being more grumpy than usual.”

“What is on your mind?”

“Just the future, you know. About (Y/N).”

“What is wrong with her?”

“With her?” He scoffed. “Rather with me. I’m not sure I could make her as happy as she wants.” He sat down and placed his face in his palms.

“Stop talking like that. You made her the happiest person alive. That asshole, Jonas or I can’t even remember his name, just caused her a trauma for the fuck’s sake. Before you broke up and after you met again, I just saw her joyful and grateful whenever you are around. And I think she has a good effect on you. Well, she bares your moody behavior and capable of living under one roof with you.” Vince laughed. Mick just threw a magazine to the singer.

“He is right, dude.” Tommy spoke up. “She is the coolest girlfriend you ever had. Tho I couldn’t recall anyone of your exes.”

“She is happy, Mick. And you are, too. You love each other and there is nothing more to explain. Right?” Nikki patted his back.

“I hope you are right.”

∆

“Are you ready, honey?” You asked Zoe who was holding a basket full of petals. She nodded nervously but you could see the joy in her eyes. “Then if you are ready we can go.” You said. You took a shaky breath and took your dad’s arm.

“And you, are you ready?” Your dad asked smiling down at you.

“Yeah.”

“Then just remember that you are beautiful and gorgeous.”

When the door opened you gulped. Everybody stood up and was watching you. You were smiling at everyone you recognized even at Axl and the guys in the last row. They gave you a thumb up and was making stupid faces to cheer you up. When Mick saw you, he forgot to breathe. You were breathtakingly beautiful. He felt tears in his eyes from happiness. When you got closer you saw how handsome the boys were along with Doc. When your dad handed you to Mick he gripped your hand and whispered in your ear.

“You are beautiful.”

“Look who is talking.” You said gazing him.

∆

“You can kiss the bride.” The priest announced happily. Mick turned to you, took your hand, and kissed you like he never did. You hugged his neck as the bouquet let you. After you parted your lips you two were smiling from ear-to-ear. That was the moment you were waiting. He let one of your hands go and started to run down the aisle. All the guests were clapping and cheering the couple.

“Okay, girls. Gather together!” You shouted to throw the bouquet to see who is gonna marry next. When you threw it, all the girls screaming. You turned around and saw that a black-haired girl caught it whom you didn’t know.

“Vanity, for real?” Nikki pouted pulling his hair.

“You know her, Sixx?” You asked him when Vanity approached him and she kissed the bassist. “So you know her alright.” You laughed and headed to Mick.

“Hey.” He murmured pulling you in a hug. The best place to ever be. You didn’t want to break from his embrace. That was the only place you ever felt this safe and happy. You sighed when you heard someone calling for him.

“Hi, big bro.” A girl, you assumed Mick’s sister was standing beside you smiling.

“Hello, Susie.” Mick never spoke about his family. He mentioned his sister, but you had never met her yet. Mick hugged her and he was truly happy he was finally able to see his sister.

“And you must be (Y/N).” Her face was still shining, you couldn’t imagine how she and Mick are even related. “It’s so nice to meet you. Oh, how dumb I am. I’m Susie. This thing’s little sister.” She joked gesturing to Mick who just rolled his eyes.

“I'm glad, too.” You said.

“Mickey, I’m sorry our parents aren’t here. I tried to convince them but you know how they are.” She murmured petting Mick’s back.

“No problem, Susie. I know you tried. And the only important thing that you are here. Now if you excuse me, I have to talk to some guests.” Mick lowered his head and put his hands in his pockets. He looked annoyed, disappointed, and sad at the same time.

“You will be okay?” You called after him.

“Yeah, don’t worry. Love you.”

“Don’t worry. He will be okay. He did this all the time when we were children. He is a tough man.” Susie tried to cheer you up. Now you understood why he never told you about his childhood. “Come, let’s drink champagne and talk. Or you don’t want to?”

“Oh, I would happily like to. Thanks, Susie.”

∆

“So you didn’t even see each other for 4 years?” She asked playing with the straw in her glass.

“No. But I was the stupid one. He didn’t do anything, I just misunderstood things.” You chuckled.

“I see. Well, I’m blissful your paths crossed again somehow. I appreciate that you have for him. He deserves it more than ever. And you are truly a jackpot.”

“Thanks.” You smiled taking a sip from your drink.

“But tell me about the others! Did Steven and Duff were sitting in the last row during the ceremony?” So she was into rock music.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know who invited them. Hey, do you want to meet them? I see that you are crazy about them.”

“Really?” She gasped.

“I can introduce to them. Come, let’s go find them. They must be somewhere near booze.” You snickered pulling Susie after you. “There they go.” They were standing in a circle with Zoe in the middle.

“Hey, (Y/N). Congratulations!” Steven said.

“Thanks, Steven. Anyway, what are you doing? You are summoning some demon or what?” You asked crossing your arms.

“No. We are just playing.” Axl said picking Zoe up making your daughter giggle.

“If you say so. By the way, guys this is Susie. She is Mick’s sister.” You put your hand on her back pushing closer to them.

“Hi. Omg, I can’t believe I can finally meet you. You guys are awesome. I have already listened to your album for a thousand times.” She said playing with her hair.

“Nice to meet you, Susie. And thanks.” Steven held his hand toward her which she took gladly.

“No way you are his sister. That man looks like a vampire. But you…you are shining so bright.” Axl stated. “Does that have any meaning?” He chuckled rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. Susie’s face was crimson and you were she would melt soon.

“Um, anyway? You are not supposed to play soon?” You asked.

“No, why should we?” Slash inquired.

“Then why are you here?”

“Tommy invited us.”

“He did?” You narrowed your eyes seeing Zoe hiding her face from you. “Zoe, you don’t have anything to say?”

“Okay, just stop looking at me like that. I told Uncle Tommy to invite them. I liked their music and they are so kind and funny.” She giggled seeing Duff making stupid faces.

“Is it true, sweetie?” Axl asked the girl in his arms. She nodded shyly.

“See, (Y/N), your daughter at least has some good taste. You go and hang with your Mötley Guys.” He pouted playfully. You showed your middle finger to him.

“(Y/N), is that a way a bride should behave?” Your mother said. You sighed knowing she would do some drama soon. She was looking at the band in disgust. “I see you never grown out from your rocker era.”

“No, and I’m proud to be one. These guys who gathered here today as well as Mick’s bandmates are good people. We are like a family. We might not know a lot of things about each other but at least they don’t hit their wives or abusing them like those bastards in the offices.” You said feeling the rage coming out. Izzy and Steven gulped hearing those words.

“Good that you are bringing up your husband or what. He will leave you at the moment he sees a pretty woman on the tours as he already did once.”

“That’s not even what happened!” You screamed. “And don’t dare to say a wrong word about him. He is such a better person than you could ever be. Mother.” You spit the last word.

“I say what I want, young lady. And you even made your daughter call him also her father? What a mother you are?” She didn’t even flinch.

“Hey, madam, she is the best mother I have ever met. She looks after her daughter the way you may never do to her. She always put aside her happiness to make Zoe happier. She is even willing to meet that bastard just to Zoe could see her dad! What is that if not caring?” Axl said. How does he know about this? Maybe Zoe told him.

“Thanks, Axl. It means so much to me.” You said turning back to him. You didn’t see your mother coming closer next to you. When you turned back to her she slapped you. You gasped and held your face.

“Don’t ever say such things to your mother or let anyone do that again.” She said.

“Crazy bitch. I’m sorry (Y/N). I didn’t mean that. Or did I?” Izzy spoke up.

“How could you lay a hand on her? Even if you are her mother. Even in front of her daughter.”

“Don’t tell me what to do. You are no one.” She told Izzy.

“And you stop talking to them like this You are no one. You are not my mother anymore. Not that you were in the past.” You got the courage to tell her what you think of her.

“You didn’t mean that.”

“Didn’t I? Get out of my wedding. Hell, get the fuck out of my life. Act like you never had a daughter and granddaughter.” With that, you left her and headed towards a restroom to clean yourself up.

“(Y/N), wait!” Susie called after you. “Where are you going?”

“Just the restroom. I will be right back.” You faked a smile. Luckily, this little chat was away from the guests so just a few people saw that. On the way, you met a few of them but you managed to keep a smile. When you opened the restroom door of your hotel room you bumped into Mick.

“Mick? What are you doing here?”

“I can ask the same. Did you cry?” He ran his fingers on your wet cheek.

“Just from happiness.” You sniffed.

“What happened?” He helped you to the bed and sat down with you in his lap.

“My mother. That happened. She was insulting me, but that part didn’t bother me cause I got used it to by now.”

“Then, what’s wrong baby girl?”

“He started telling rude things to the guys from Guns N Roses. And then I got fed up and told her to get out of my life and forget that she even had a daughter.” You played with your dress. You also left out the slapping part, anyway, he will know soon from the guys. “Gosh, I’m so embarrassing.” You said while wiping away your tears.

“You are not embarrassing. Luckily, I haven’t met her, but your dad seemed kind. And don’t worry, she will cause no trouble if she did get out. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He placed a kiss on your cheek.

“And you? What were you doing here?”

“Just needed some space and time.”

“Your parents?” You asked feeling sorry for not being with him.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“What about if forget about families who suck and finally enjoy our wedding which supposed to be about us?!”

“I would love that.” You giggled.

∆

“That girl right there. She fucking slapped me!” Vince said in the microphone. He almost fell from the little stage he was standing on, he was so drunk. You hid behind your hands and also Mick’s hair. He was laughing at you. Betrayal. “But don’t worry, it didn’t hurt that bad. And we are okay now. She is the most badass mother I know and the great aunt for my children. Thanks (Y/N), and happy marriage with Mick.” He held his glass up and drank from it. You were surprised that he didn’t call Mick an old man or vampire. You also held your booze and nodded at him thanking his wonderful speech.

∆

“(Y/N), you are the best sister and friend that I have ever had. So thanks for existing and congratulations.” Tommy said grinning. Well, that’s what you call topic in a nutshell.

“Asshole, and what I am? A fucking potato?” Athena yelled making Tommy running down from the stage.

∆

“Congratulations to (Y/N) and Mick. I’m glad you finally found the love of your life,” He glanced at Vanity.“with whom you can share all your problems and who will help you through everything. She is a girl you can rely on, Mick. Have a nice marriage full of love and passion.” You felt the tears in your eyes and wiped it immediately. Nikki could be so empathetic sometimes.

∆

“So you liked it?” Mick asked you during your dance. You rested your head on his chest while he placed his chin on the top of your head smelling the scent of your hair.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t do it again.” You laughed. Mick chuckled and span you around.

Tag: @leatherandheels

More adventures to come with this crazy family so stay tuned!

#motley crue #nikki sixx #vince neil #80srock #tommy lee #80s music #mick mars #rocknroll #glam rock #mick mars x reader #mick mars imagine #motley crue x reader #motley crue imagine #guns n roses #steven adler #slash #duff mckagan #axl rose #izzy stradlin

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