#so i guess the only way on is forward. i'm going to force myself to take a break maybe it'll be better soon idk. and that's 30 tags bye

[crystaljellie]

I honestly think that there are so many interesting songs that fit the life series characters so well, so I’m going to talk about them here and explain why I associate them with these songs!

Bdubs - Never love an anchor by the crane wives

"With this heart of mine that's guilty, not remorseful" | It's guilty because Bdubs feels bad, he feels bad he couldn't achieve what he should. He feels bad that he killed Impulse in third life, betrayed him, and even then it got him nothing. He's guilty because he knows the harm he's caused

"There is love that doesn't have a place to rest, but it would burry you if it had settled on your shoulders" | I notice that Bdubs has a lot of trust and faith in his companies, something about this brings back the 'He loves me' scene from last life back. Bdubs loves a lot more than people seem to think he does, so he must hold it back in case of that love being used against him

"I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel" | Maybe things that Bdubs wants to be, for the sake of letting go and letting himself detach from these people so losing them doesn't hurt as much. Letting other people label him as such

BigB - Know How by the Crane wives

"I am not brave; I keep my focus on what is safe," | I think this is fitting to BigB even if it's not necessarily true; I think from his perspective how he feels, ignoring how he is actually very brave. But at the same time he does keep his focus on what is safe, there's a reason why he always makes it to the final or session before the final.

"Just because I know what I'm supposed to do now, doesn't mean I know how" (Edited line to be shorter) | I'm not sure how to explain this but I do think it really fits him, he knows all the things he's meant to do, to survive, for example killing with the boogeymancurse, but he dragged it out till the very very end before he killed Cleo in last life, because he didn't know how he was supposed to do it.

Etho - I don’t know anyone I am by Salvia Palth

"I don't know anyone, I am in relation to anyone I guess" | Etho has always been seen as a loner throughout all seasons, he doesn't very much get the time to make meaningful bonds or understand his teammates. It makes sense he would struggle to see himself as more than just a survivor as well, he hasn't given himself the time to focus on anything else.

Scar - Icicles by The Scary Jokes

"Their shallow observations will only stall the transformation" | This is very secret life scar to me, maybe something something the watchers talking to him, everyone forcing the title of villain onto him, yet the watchers see him as a gift to them, as a victor and they're trying to make sure Scar keeps doing what he has been and not back out because they're calling him 'villain'

"But I admit it would be easier, To be relieved of all this shame and not have to wear it on my sleeve." | This fits Scar's feelings on the matter, not wanting to go forward, not wanting to be shamed and outcast by the rest of the lifers.

"I can only be forgiven if I'm giving myself up to you" | Secret life in general but also back in 3rd life, Scar believing he can only make up for killing Grian at the end by having Grian kill him, something something 'slay me and take the enchanter'

"My world has turned so cold, but I won't cry, 'cause icicles don't soften when they die so why should I" | Despite Scar being constantly alone, he stayed strong he never 'softened' or cried he also became cold which is why he won.

Grian - Bird Song by Florence + The Machine

"And he sang about what I'd become" | How Grian had slowly lost his mind in third life as well as all the other games, how Grian had became someone obsessed with getting kills, going out of his way to trick and trap people and find loopholes to kill

"I picked up the bird and above the den I said 'That's the last song you'll ever sing" | Grian doesn't want to think that he might be a bad person, or he might be going crazy, so he has to silence anyone saying otherwise, anyone that might prove a danger to him. Maybe because he can't let the watchers get word that he's exactly who they say he his. Maybe even so this is relating to the theory that he might have been the one to curse Jimmy.

Impulse - A Mask of My Own Face by Nature Tapes

Okay now hear me out on this one, Impulse is constantly in and out of alliances especially in third life, lying to everyone to gain vantage.

"And none of them would know that I am secretly myself" | Because they trust that Impulse is putting on a facade all the time, but maybe what they are missing is that the facade is what he considers to be him. Or at the very least keeps him safer

"I'd blame it on the person that nobody knows I am" | Something about him always being like 'Oh I did this so they'd trust me more I'm still on your side I promise' Or 'I did this for the task!' When he could have absolutely targeted anyone else.

Martyn - Metaphors by The Crane wives

"I've gotten good at living on someone elses page" | It's the way Martyn is always deceiving and always planning to betray, living on someone else's page, being content and loyal until he has the chance not to be.

"You can't trust a single thing I say" | Idk something about him talking about how he was planning to betray Ren in third life.

"Don't look too hard cause you won't like the scars he left in me" | THIS BEING SO TREEBARK LISTEN TO ME. HE GAVE UP SO MUCH TO REN THERE ARE SO MANY SCARS CAUSED BY FOLLOWING THE ORDERS TO KILL SOMEONE YOU LOVE

Lizzie - The Crooked the Cradle by The crane wives

"There's blood in the water" | Thinking about Lizzie showing up in limited life to play Pearl and the first thing she was tasked with is killing. Like she showed up and instantly was given the title of boogeyman, a gimmick that was only there in the one other season she was in, a sense of familiarity and a sense of dread.

"The quiet are restless the silent are still" | When there is peace on the server and it is quiet there are people waiting to kill. When it is silent it is because all is dead. And Lizzie knows that well being quick to die each time, she is the silent, especially when she fell into the void, she died alone and in scilence.

"If Mercy's abound I'll be safe I'll be sound, and the devil won't know of the love I just couldn't let go" | Something about Joel being the cause of her death In Secret life... loved him so much she went down for him, she couldn't let it go and it got her killed.

"Can anyone hear me?" | Her in the void not being able to be heard....

Mumbo - Saint Bernard by Lincoln

"To remind me that I am a fool" | I am very strongly of the headcanon that Mumbo is also a watcher, something something he needs to remind himself that he is fooling himself into thinking he could fit in with the world of the watchers or the world of the players

"When I am dead I won't join their ranks because they are both holy and free" | And Mumbo's not, Mumbo doesn't get to go where they go, he still has more to do, more to make up for. Still instructions left to follow

"There's really just one thing that we have in common, neither of us will be missed" This is so Mumbo talking to Grian coded for me

Pearl - Here I am by the Crane wives

"How long have I been here all alone" Double life Pearl in her tower....

"Settled in, had a plan but I never factored in, Everyone else saying goodbye" | Basically also double life Pearl she had a plan with Martyn go to the nether get stuff come back find her soulbound, and then they all left her.

"This ghost town is making a ghost of me" | Everyone dying around her, and being alone like this without chance of redemption slowly killing her.

"I promised myself I'd learn to be the one who leaves" | Throughout the next games, like secret life, she'd be the one who leaves instead of gets left behind, but she didn't seeing how she was always last one alive out of her teammates

Skizz - Wrecking ball by mother mother

"I made a fist and not a plan" | Skizz is usually quite reckless and goes action first plan second.

"You gotta see the artistry In tearing the place apart with me, baby" | This but more in the ironic sense, because Skizz while he wants to reign chaos he is also fiercely loyal and kind to his allies, so tearing the place apart with me, is important. He doesn't just want to cause chaos he wants connections

Scott - Icarus

"Climb ye higher and higher and higher 'Til you're far away and breathing cleaner air" | Scott winning last life, climbing higher and higher through the ranks until he breaks through the clouds into what he had hoped was cleaner air spoiler alert it’s not.

"Who have you become in the wake of all that's happened here?" | What’s happened to you, what happened in last life that changed you, what made you so cold and bitter and so quick to assume the worst when double life came

"Spreading out the ashes of a love That only gave and gave" | Either this as flower husbands, being the ashes of a love that only gave to others, or specifically Scott’s love, that only gave and gave to the one whom he loved

"There's no room for all the hearts who will not stay" | For the people who will not stay with him, the watchers pressuring him to do better and leave the, behind. He won’t though.

Joel - The Wolf by the crane wives

"I will join the wolf at my door Breathing out storms when she comes around" | Well yes we know Joel is a dog boy clearly, but also how he is oh so aggressive to everyone he meets, ferocious and knocking things down.

"I am always burning, burning, burning" | Burning with rage? Burning things down? So many emotions they're lighting up his world so much that it blinds him from seeing anything else

Jimmy - Hollow Moon By the crane wives

"In the darkness, Slowly crawling over my skin, Whispers at the door, "let us in, let us in" | Whispers of the watchers, or maybe his curse, something knocking to let death in.

"I won't be sleeping, There's too many monsters in the backyard" | Okay yes funny because of Minecraft mechanics. But also, idk something about Jimmy not being able to see the watchers but still feeling their presence.

(I'm giving Jimmy an extra song because he's special)

Strawberry blond by Mitski

"I love everybody because I love you When you stood up, walked away barefoot And the grass where you lay left a bed in your shape I looked over it and I ached" | YES I AM BACK ON MY FLOWER HUSBANDS BULLSHIT! Trust me so much they're so insanely in love, they love the world because they love each other, their relationship is so sweet and soft.

"All I need, darlin', is a life in your shape I picture it, soft, and I ache" | because all they ever needed was each other, not the death not the violence, just to be in love

Tango - Monster by Dodie

"I'm guessing that I've grown horns I guess I'm human no more I can tell I've rotted in your brain" | Tango's anger and wondering if those reactions made others see less in him. Make him a monster

"You think I'm a crazy bitch I craft my words to fit your head 'Cause no one listens to the dead" | Idk... something about this and Tango, he always dies relatively early too, maybe it's only death that'll comfort him

Cleo - The Garden by The Crane Wives

"My stone, My shield, my steady hand, Hold your light To the darkness in my head" | Something about this being about how Scott has been her friend and ally throughout all seasons

"Give me something pretty to wear beneath my blood-stained clothes" | I CAN'T EXPLAIN IT BUT THIS IS LIMITED LIFE CLETHO, DOES ANYONE HEAR ME PLEASE TRUST

"My darling, the devil knows my name" | Cleo makes a name known for herself by fighting, making a point with their sword

"Get on your knees and, Dig up the garden, Won't you throw down that spade and, Dig up the garden, darling?" | Something something a wife talking to her husband

Ren - Arms Tonite by Mother Mother

"I died in your arms tonight" | Martyn killing Ren in 3rd life....

"I lost sight in your arms tonight, it was nice" | Lost sight of the goal so obsessed with his kingdom and the Red army

"I cry hard because I have died, and you're alive" | Martyn out living him (Not by very long) In third life

Gem - The Well by the Crane Wives

"All the words I couldn't say to you Fill up the spaces in my chest" | This being Shiny Duo and Gem and pearl being on different sides unsure of how to stay together

"Send me anywhere, take me out I'm the well they're gonna drag you down" | Gem knowing she's only going to be used as a catalyst to hurt others despite her wants

"That old house, those rotting memories Burned easier than I'd have thought" | Those short memories of limited life being replaced by the nicer memories of at least the first half of secret life

And I am done yapping, mayhaps I will do more someday

#trafficblr #life series #flower husbands #3rd life smp #3rd life #traffic smp #traffic life series #last life #last life smp #double life #double life smp #limited life #limited life smp #secret life smp #secret life #trafficshipping #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #tangotek #pearlescentmoon #lizzie ldshadowlady #joel smallishbeans #martyn inthelittlewood #ethoslab #bdubs #bigbst4tz2 #zombiecleo #geminitay #renthedog #skizzleman

[ghouljams]

I’ve been wondering something about BumbleBee (my nickname for Cowboy!König’s darling. Because her horse is named Honey and also just cause she seems clumsy like the bees that bump into my windows all the time). Why is she doing….whatever it is she’s doing? She seems to not have any experience whatsoever with animals (or maybe it’s just horses), doesn’t have any basic knowledge of her own surroundings (I’m guessing on that, since she didn’t recognize that the one snake was a garter snake and harmless), and just overall seems kinda new to this.

I love bumblebee, that's so cute. Ghoul stamp of approval. König calls her "Hummelchen" specifically because of Honey and her clumsiness. 

So the author’s note here is that the house/farm is her grandparent's. It's her inheritance and she's sort of half fixing it up while she's living there. She is a city transplant who is truly making a new life for herself after the sort of really messy divorce you only get when you were high school sweethearts that got married waaaay too young. He was not good to her. Like she lost everything and is slowly rebuilding her life with Honey(and König).

We're going to pretend that this is König asking this question so I can do some cute fic. Man wants to know what's up with his future wife and is willing to use basic interrogation tactics to do that. This is pretty immediately after Bee gets cleaned up.

The question hangs in the air between the two of you. Your lips are still pressed to the mug in your hands, halfway to sipping the coffee offered to you. König stares at you before leaning forward against the table.

"I'm sorry, that was rude of me." He says, back tracking. You settle your mug on the table.

"No, I'm… pretty clearly not used to this," You say tapping your fingers against your mug, "I get why you'd be curious."

König thought of the neat stack of papers he had on you in his closet. Your entire life laid out on printer paper and background checks. An entire dossier, everything he could find on you. He wasn't curious, he wanted to know your thoughts. Facts were only useful as far as he could make conversation, and he couldn't ask about anything private you hadn't told him yourself, even if he did know too much about you.

"Truth be told I'm not really sure what I'm doing out here, it's not like I have any dreams of farming or animal husbandry." You smile at your mug, the warmth is comforting, König is comforting, "but I didn't really have anywhere else to go, so here I am."

"Nowhere else to go," König half asks, you nod.

"Yeah, I mean, after I split from-" you cringe, not wanting to say their name, it's fine König knows it either way, "I sort of lost everything but the house and Honey."

"Scheiße," König mumbles to himself, eyes hot and angry, how anyone could put you through the hell you’d been through was beyond him. If it was him, he never would’ve let you go, never would’ve forced you to that breaking point. If it was him…

But now it is him, or it will be him. You look so sweet and kept sitting across from him in his oversized shirt, biting your pretty pink lip and staring down your own wobbly reflection in your mug. 

“It’s not so bad,” You assure yourself, “I have the whole house to myself, and I can go into town whenever I want, and I’ve got Honey to keep me company.” And me, König thinks to himself, you’ve got me too.

“If you ever need help with anything,” He offers, and you smile at him, a half shy thing that still lights up the kitchen like sunshine.

“I do seem to need a lot of help,” You laugh a little. König nods, and you reach across the table to smack his arm, "You're not supposed to agree with me."

"Sorry," his eyes are so pretty when he smiles, the way they crease and sparkle just for you makes your stomach flip. Maybe it won’t be so bad living out here with König just down the street. You could use a good friend.

#Cowboy!König #Wow this is so cute except that König has her underwear in his pocket #creep(affectionate) #I realize I just posted him being a stalker on the highkey but here's some DL stalking #könig x you #König x reader #konig x you #konig mw2 #konig x reader #the way I keep going yeah reader insert and making a pov OC #you're all enabling me that's the problem

[asimpforthe80s]

He's back

":":":":":":":":":":":":":":":":":"

Starring: vampire Eddie x grieving reader

Warnings: angst. Suicide mentions. Arguing. Crying. Reader panics. Mentions of hallucinations.

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You expected Eddie to stay dead. You know, because that's what dead people do. You had cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you everything when Eddie "went missing." So he did. And now your best friend is dead... or so you thought at least up until you woke up to him peering over you, fangs on full display.

"Miss me, sweetheart?" he says, brushing some hair from your tear streaked face. You pushed him away. "Stop it.. I don't need more stupid hallucinations to remind me you're dead.." you whispered as you turned away from him, tears glossing your eyes.

"Come on.. did you really think the world was gonna go on without Eddienoo?" He chuckled, smirking down at you.

"My world won't.. but you managed to make me believe that you were here last time.." you said, let out a soft sniffle and brushing away a tear. "So what's the difference this time?" Eddie asked as he leaned forward, tilting your chin up. "You feel my presence." As he leaned closer. His warm breath kissed your skin when he exhaled.

"Just means you're getting vivid.. or I'm going insane.. cause I damn right felt you last time, too.. You're dead, Eddie.. you're not real.." you whispered, only making yourself cry more.

"Yeah, well, I'm not dead, princess, and it's high time you realize that." Eddie paused for a moment as his thumb brushed away your tears. His fingers tightened around your chin. "I was dead, but I came back. That's the difference, so why don't you quit crying before I give you something to really cry about?"

You sat back against the headboard. "First of all.. dead people stay dead.. second of all.. my Eddie wouldn't talk to me like that in a million years.." You sniffed. "Well, maybe it's time you realized just how much has changed for me while I was gone. Because yeah, old Eddie would never have spoken to you like that, but I'm not him anymore. I'm a vampire now. And guess what? Vampires are assholes, sweetheart."

You felt your heart break at that. "Then I don't want you here.." you said, tears blinding your vision. "I want the Eddie who takes care of me and makes sure I- I get up in the morning.. or that I'm eating enough.." you said, letting the tears stream. The way you spoke hurt him. But he tried to hold it in, he really did. A slight frown creased his face when he saw that you were getting upset again.

"Well, he's gone, princess. And so is this new version of me that you didn't even give a chance." He turned, hands placed on the sides of the bed. "I didn't come into this life to please you."

Your lips quivered as you tried to speak. "Then you're not the sweet man I secretly fell in love with and tried to kill myself for.." you whispered, your voice cracking as you spoke. His hands clenched into fists. The veins in his arms stood out more prominently against his skin than before. The words you spoke triggered something in him.

He turned to face you, standing over the bed with his hands pressed down on the mattress. "What was that?" he asked with a low growl. "Since you're not.. not my Eddie.. then you're not the man I loved and tried to take my own life for because I found out he died.." you repeated. Something about the way you said that made his blood run hot, his eyes turning nearly black with a simmering rage.

He leaned forward, hands coming down to grab your shoulders. "Do you have any idea how angry it makes me that you would even dare to think you should end it?" He got close, his voice laced with pure anger. "How angry would you be if I said I tried?" You asked, tears blocking your vision once more.

He wanted to scream at you. He wanted to yell at you and tell you how stupid and selfish that was. But he felt a slight twinge at the back of his mind. You were suffering. And maybe it really was because of him.

Eddie loosened his grip but let his hands slowly and softly cup your cheeks. For the first time in a while, his eyes were filled with pure concern. "You what?" You sighed. "I've tried.. I- I've really tried, okay? But every single time, a stupid hallucination of you shows up, telling me that I shouldn't do it and that you'd want me to fucking live.. but I wanted you to live with me.. and I didn't get that.." you said.

At first, he was going to deny that you weren't crazy, but he kept catching himself wanting to let his guard down. Your words of having made multiple attempts sent him into a spiral of internal conflict.

He wanted to scream at you for even considering it. But he knew he shouldn't get mad that you did, especially with how devastated you were about his death.

Eddie stayed silent for a few moments, trying to get his thoughts in order. "You actually tried to go through with it? Multiple times?" You nodded. "Knives, ropes, you name it, I've tried it.." you whispered. His hands fell from your face and squeezed into fists. His anger was quickly replaced by hurt.

"You really didn't want to be here without me?" He looked away for a moment and let out a heavy exhale. "What made you think that I would want that?" You sighed. "I didn't care.. if you wouldn't stay to finish this stupid life with me, neither was I.." you said, another tear rolling down the damp skin of your cheek.

"You didn't care..." he repeated quietly as he stared down at you. For the first time in ages, his heart felt heavy once more, and it hurt him knowing exactly how much you were suffering.

Eddie leaned down and placed one of his hands on your cheek, his thumb gently stroking through your dampened tears. "You're hurting me."

You let out a soft exhale. "And you hurt me.." you said, looking him dead in the eyes as you spoke. "I never wanted to hurt you," he said as his thumb rubbed softly at a tear trail that led down your cheek. "And I don't want to now, but if I know I'm hurting you just being here, then I should just go, shouldn't I?"

Your eyes widened once more. Was he really just gonna leave you again? Your breathing quickened along with your heartbeat, panic flowing through your veins as you watched him stand up and take a step back. He looked away from you once more and stood straight, putting a few feet of distance between the two of you. And even though he wanted to turn and run, he knew he would only be hurting you even more if he did. He knew that he had to stand here and face you.

"I'm going to do the right thing and just leave," he began, his words were as if they were being forced out of him. You felt your body go numb. Not an ounce of control left as you sat there. Heartbeat at 186 and almost a matching breathing. Just watching him take more and more steps backward.

He saw the way you were reacting. He saw the way your body froze up, how your heart began to pump faster, and how you started to breathe erratically. But what really got to him was your wide, fearful eyes. Just at that moment, he could tell that your panic was escalating beyond words.

He paused for a moment, thinking about what he should do. But seeing the way you were reacting was breaking his heart. Your eyes were begging. Pleading. Knowing what you would just do to yourself if you let him leave once again. But you weren't in control right now. You couldn't stop him. Your body was betraying you, forcing you to let him take the decision without further discussion.

"Sweetheart, look at me," he quietly demanded, turning back to face you. But as he did, you could see how much it hurt him to see you like this, the way your eyes begged him to stay as if you could do nothing to stop him.

"I don't want to hurt you, so just answer me truthfully. Do you want me to stay?" His hand shook slightly as his arm fell to his side. You couldn't answer. Your body didn't let you speak. But you needed to. It was now or never, right? If you didn't answer, he'd just leave you again, right? Your body trembled as you tried to speak. But nothing came out.

You couldn't answer, and the uncertainty of the situation made his blood run cold. The way your body was shaking and the way your voice refused to come out meant that he had likely hit on what you wanted. But how much did you want it?

Eddie took a step closer to where you were sitting, leaning down by the bed's side and placing his hands on your shoulders. "I need an answer, sweetheart. Do you want me to stay here, or would you be better off with me gone?" A tear rolled down your cheek as you realized you wouldn't be able to answer. Not now. Not in a while. You begged that vampired could read minds. You begged for him to hear to words you were silently screaming.

He couldn't handle it.

The way you were shaking and the way your eyes were screaming at him. You couldn't answer because he'd broken that trust between you both in that moment when he was angry.

He pulled his hands away and leaned down so you could stare him directly in the eyes.

"I'm begging at this point, sweetheart. Please, look me in my eyes and tell me that you want me to stay..." Your eyes drifted to meet his. As you know that you wouldn't be able to speak or nod. You decided to try nodding with your eyes as it was your only source of movement. Eddie had a feeling that you wanted him to stay. But just in case, he took a moment to observe the way your eyes moved, seeing if your head would shake or if you'd try to find a way to say yes.

His eyes widened as the truth was confirmed.

"I'm going to ask you one last time, sweetheart," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. "Do. You. Want. Me. To. Stay?" Your eyes frantically formed a nod. Begging him to stay with you. Pleading for him not to leave you again. For a moment, Eddie was completely speechless. He nearly fell to his knees with how relieved he felt. He had put everything on the line there. Just a few seconds ago, he was ready to turn around and leave forever.

But instead, he leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. Pulling you into a loving embrace, his head buried into your neck. Finally, you felt yourself slip back into control.

"Please,please,please,please,please,.." You repeated, begging as you clutched the material of his jacket in your hands. He rubbed your back in a soothing manner, still unable to believe that you had just done the one thing he needed to hear.

"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere." You wanted to be held like this, and he was certainly going to give it to you. He was going to give you everything you wanted, and he wouldn't stop until you were smiling again. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to be as close to him as possible as you sobbed against his shoulder, repeating words of begging into his ears over and over.

A rush of emotions hit him as you clung to him like you'd never let go again. The moment you wrapped your legs around him made his heart flutter. His eyes remained closed the entire time and he continued to rub your back.

He knew that this was the moment that would solidify your feelings for him. Now, there was nowhere to go but up.

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Reblog or comment if anyone wants this to be a longer fic. (Please do, I have a lot more. It'll be so fucking happy)

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie eddie eddie eddie eddie #eddie spaghetti #eddie fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson please fuck me #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson thots #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie+munson #eddiemunson #eddie #fuck me eddie #y/n angst #reader angst #angst

[omwife]

Sanji Vinsmoke

small series or just falling for sanji/getting with him. part 1!

summary: sanji is gawking to zoro over nami when you surprise him from behind. he figures out that you're another crew mate who was absent for when he initially joined and fawns over you.

notes: bare with me cos im not far (at ALL) into the show and know nothing about how boats work. (do pirates use those wheels? they do right? they use it in this fic anyway.) alsoooo idk french so these r google translations

espèce de sale garçon - you dirty boy

"oh nami's so amazing." sanji said as he leaned his body forward from the barrel he was sat on, and took another long puff of the cigarette he was holding.

"shut up cook." zoro mumbled as he continued his practise of his technique.

"i dunno zoro, he is right." you said as you loomed over sanjis shoulder, who jumped at your voice, while everyone else seemed to perk up at it.

"y/n!!! you're awake!" nami said as she ran towards you and began rambling about what happened while you were asleep.

"y/nnnnnnnnnnnn." luffy called as his arms stretched out from his seat in front of the wheel to your shoulders.

"no- no luffy- no you're going to catapult into me- luffy- let go." you tried as you struggled against his hold before his body flung itself at you, pushing you both to the ground.

"luffy you idiot!" zoro screamed as nami ran over to the wheel to make sure the boat steered in the right direction.

sanji however, had been sat gaping at the way you looked and how he hadn't seen you before. it was a ship? how did he not notice your presence before? had you come aboard from a small ship?

"Y/NNN!!"

"USSOP!!"

"YOU'RE AWAKE!!" ussop yelled as he grabbed onto your forearms, you doing the same to him, and jumped up and down while spinning in a circle.

"I'M AWAKE!!" you yelled back just as loud and matched the large smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug.

"well maddam, how come i've never seen you before?" sanji said as his brain suddenly started working again, no longer being stopped by your beauty.

"i was asleep." you said as if it was normal for you to have been asleep for days on end, the smile not leaving your face as ussop wrapped his arm around your shoulder while smiling at sanji too.

"right.. well you must be hungry, any special requests love?"

"well aren't you a flirt?" you said as you unwrapped your self from ussop to move yourself closer to sanji, while ussop only raised an eyebrow at this with his smile standing brighter, "how about i come and oversee you make the food so we can make up on lost time?" you cooed as you wrapped a hand under the collar of sanjis shirt and fixed it, while he seemingly died inside.

his cheeks heated up at the unexpected flirting from you, while ussop snickered having been watching this in front view.

"oh i'll have something to eat too!" luffy said as he popped up from behind sanji, having listened in as soon as he heard the conversation switch to be about food.

sanji quickly turned and started questioning luffy about what he wanted in an attempt to hide the prominent blush that had creeped its way onto his face after your reply.

"good to have you back y/n." zoro grumbled as he tapped your back with the duller part of his sword as you followed behind sanji, causing you to turn back and throw a wink and a smile over your shoulder to him.

"looks like shes got sanji already." ussop said as he saw the kitchen doors close with you luffy and sanji inside, before luffy was pushed out of the door by two mystery hands.

zoro snorts at this, "guess they've both met their matches."

-

"so, you were asleep the whole time?"

"yeah. i got knocked up pretty bad in a fight on the island we met ussop at, so it took a while for me to come back to life i guess." you said as you sat at a stool and leaned your chin on your hands as you watched him pull out pots and other equipment.

"i would've forced myself to wake up sooner if i knew someone like you would've been here when i woke up." you said with a sly grin that only grew larger when sanjis movement paused for a moment, shocked, and quickly resumed his work as he decided to do it with his back turned so you didn't see his face.

"how bold you are darling. do you have a preference for sweet or savoury?"

"sweet please."

chills ran down sanjis back, your voice was like music to his ears, it was smooth and sweet and what you said didn't help with calming his already building love for you.

"so, introduce yourself to me." you grinned as he turned, leaving the food to cook on the stove top as he wiped his hands with a cloth.

"i am sanji vinsmoke, your ships cook. however i could be much more for you darling." he purred as he rolled his sleeves further up to his elbows.

"ai! you're dirty." you said as you giggled and only leaned further towards him.

"mon amor i couldn't resist when you look so perfect and pretty." he hummed as he grinned at you before turning his back and continuing his cooking.

"mm espèce de sale garçon."

this only made his smile grow as he plated up your food, making sure to make it as presentable as he could, while he put much less effort in plating luffys plate of barely anything but meat.

"call out to luffy dear?" he asked as you with a smile as he started on cleaning the dishes already.

you got up with a pink hue appearing on your cheeks, "luffy! your foods ready."

his stomps could be heard running towards the kitchen while namis screams about how he can't keep leaving the wheel was heard aswell.

"i hope to have your company more as i cook." sanji whispered into your ear, appearing behind you before he hummed and walked out, pulling his packet of smokes out.

-

done!

lmk what u think <3

#sanji x reader #one piece #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji #op sanji

[void-detective]

Impending Doom

((GIF NOT MINE!! Dividers made by cafekitsune))

Authors note: There's no fics for this man so I took it upon myself to do a service. This is my first reader x story 😭 I'm sorry if it's a little awkward!

Warnings: teasing, slightly suggestive(?, and simping

Word count: 1,229

Edited 4/23/24: Part two here!

Summary: With your soft spot for dominant heels in the industry, it only seemed inevitable that he would eventually get to you. Although nervous at first your friend helps encourage you to approach the Intercontinental champion, hopefully it goes well.

Day 639 of Gunther's Intercontinental Championship run

You always had a soft spot for heel wrestlers, whether it be Miz or someone like Pete Dunne. You always enjoyed loving the bad guys over the good guys when I came to wrestling. So you really shouldn't have been surprised when you ended up liking Gunther, right? No one matched the pure strength and dominance of the when it came to being a force to be wreckin with.

You were seated with Rollins backstage to watch a match between Jey Uso and Gunther for his Intercontinental Championship. You had a hunch on who was probably going to win even if you knew everyone adored the Main Event, Jey Uso. You leaned back in the seat watching Jey finish up his entrance and peered over at Seth who was leaned back holding his own championship close on his lap while watching.

As soon as the lights went out in the area and you heard the first few notes of Symphony No. 9, you were inching closer to the edge of your chair. You ignored the look Seth gave you as you watched Gunther walk out in front of the titantron, lifting his head at the cue of music as the Imperium graphics lit up the screen. With his hands folded behind his back and the gold secured around his waist, Gunther walked down towards the ring.

He stepped up the stairs and made his way to the apron where he wiped his feet back and forth before going under the ropes. Once in the ring, Gunther raised the championship before looking at Jey across the ring with a smirk. He walked across the ring holding the title towards his face and turned to hand it off to the referee with a bit of a scowl.

Each chop delivered across Jey’s chest sent an echo through the arena and you found yourself sitting at the edge of your seat as Gunther picked him up. With a slam into the middle of the ring, Jey was sent down from the powerbomb before the champion went in and pinned him.

The three count ended as Gunther retained and released a breath you didn't realize you were holding as you relaxed your shoulders. You heard Seth chuckle and looked over your shoulder at him as you raised a brow.

“I never seen you so tense over a match Y/N.” Rollins chuckled in amusement as he leaned forward and raised a brow at you in question. “So it's Gunther now? I guess I'm not surprised.” The architect snorted when you scowled at him and waved at you in a dismissive way.

“Have you ever spoken to the guy?” You leaned back in your seat to look more directly at Seth as you tilted your head curiously. You knew he had previously spoken to Gunther in a promo while injured but that was as much as you saw.

“Outside the ring? Nah, but I heard he's a pretty chill guy behind the scenes though. I'd still be careful though, the rest of the Imperium followed him everywhere.” The champion added with a frown as he propped his leg over the other with the hurt one on top. His face showed mostly amusement and curiosity as he watched you stand up.

“Thanks Seth, I'll be careful.” You nodded in agreement as you patted your friend's shoulder as you moved further backstage. You moved past other superstars as you glanced at the people standing around the hallway.

You kept searching till you recognized the black ring attire of the two main Imperium members, along with the large figure of Gunther. You bit your lip feeling your nerves wrecking up all the sudden as you took a deep breath and approached the stable slowly, trying to appear as friendly as possible.

Ludwig immediately took notice of you and raised a judgemental brow as he moved in front of Gunther along with Giovanni stepping to his side with a stiff looking glare. “Can we..help you lass?” Kaiser questioned with a suspicious tone as he folded his arms behind his back.

“Uh, yeah I was wondering if I could talk to Gunther?” You whispered trying to not sound intimidated considering most of them were a lot taller than you. Your brows furrowed in betrayal of your attempt to appear collected as you curled your fingers in your jacket out of habit. You felt like your heart might as well beat out your chest and you might die on the spot but you tried to retain a calm and confident look.

The pair exchanged a look as Kaiser raised an eyebrow before peering over their shoulder at the leader of Imperium. Gunther was removing the tape from his wrist and only gave you half a glance over his shoulder before simply nodding. The other two members moved aside, giving you accusing looks as you slowed inched past towards the Intercontinental champion.

You swallowed hard and stopped just a few feet from him looking up at him as you smiled folding your hands in front of yourself. Please don't let me look like a nervous wreck. You thought to yourself as the Ring General turned to look at you with an unreadable expression crossing his features.

“How can I help you Y/N?” Gunther frowned as he rubbed his face with a towel so he wasn't sweating as much as he looked back at you, not giving much of an expression like the other two had.

“Oh uh, I just wanted to say I thought you were an amazing heel and that you really deserve to be the longest reigning champ. I really admire your work and I uh..I've been watching a lot of your matches as of late.” You chuckled before feeling your cheeks heat up noticing you basically gushed and rambled to him and looked down at the floor as you fidgeted with the jacket.

God damnit.

Gunther only chuckled in an amused way as he smirked and raised a brow seemingly getting a boost in his ego and both prided being praised so openly. His arms now folded over his chest as he seemed to almost size you up only making you feel smaller.

“Really? I'm not used to getting compliments from female superstars but I appreciate the admiration.” He couldn't hide the pure amusement in his tone as he furrowed his brow leaning down slightly to your height. Maybe he could take advantage of the opportunity just to mess with you, your reactions only fueled his amusement anyway.

“But I'd be careful.” His austrian accent became more noticeable in his low, almost dangerous tone. His eyes glimmering in a condescending and mocking way as he stared you down even at this height now. “Running around getting involved with me might just get you..in trouble.” Gunther muttered and let out a small chuckle at the way your cheeks burned brighter.

Giovanni and Kaiser came into view at either side of Gunther while the General watched you like a predator about to take down prey. The other two men smirked too as they exchanged a knowing glance then looked back at the leader of the stable. The last words of the bigger male wrestler left a shiver up your spine when he spoke again in a low tone.

“I would hate to break something so fragile.”

#bunny writes #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #wwe #wrestling fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #x reader #wwe imagine #gunther wwe #the imperium #ludwig kaiser #giovanni vinci #wwe fanfic #gunther x reader #first reader x fic please be nice/gen #world wrestling entertainment

[skyeslittlecorner]

can you post some photos on chapter five? ive been struggling to get to it and im impatient if ykwim 😭😭

Don't worry anon, I got you covered! Let's break this chapter for three parts - one for story and for one for both H-scenes. There are a lot of things to look forward to~

Warning: HEAVY SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT. In fact, I'll try to shorten the whole thing and focus on plot-relevant facts, so for those who want to go through chapter 5 on their own, come back when you're done! (Or just skip to h-scene, they are marked.)

Ch5 - STORY

First, I would like to warn that my opinion about it may be unpopular. As someone who hadn't paid much attention to Hades before, I fell in love with it after this episode. I adore ch5. A lot of people hate these boys to the core for what they did, and I understand and respect their opinion, but I'm with Hades here. I would love to analyze their behavior in more detail, but we don't have time for that today.

Summarizing this chapter is going to be hard because a lot of things happened. Let's go!

We start by going down a slide sponsored by Leviathan and his Lovecraftian friends (TM). But worry not! It seems we have friends even in the realm of death. Say hello to grandpa!

We talk a little, being in a questionable mood. Well, who wouldn't be? But we have the opportunity to know Solomon better, and I'm getting to understand why all devils love him. By the way, it turns out that we are his last descendant.

Sorry Solomon, you're still a peepaw.

He also advises us not to be afraid of Leviathan and not to be submissive to him, and then in a brilliant way he sends us back to the world of the living. Of course, our beautiful king is delighted.

We take Grandpa's advice to heart and finally stand up to Levi. He's surprised, but he doesn't try to kill us again (for now). We witness him hanging one of his subjects, who dared to ask about an accident from 311 years ago.

Fun fact. Devils must have much stronger spines. Do you know how people used to die by hanging? The first methods involved cutting off oxygen, but later they involved into breaking the cervical spine and this was considered a standard hanging execution. Leviathan must be gentle (how bad it sounds in this context), he could kill instantly with a loop like that.

Back to the point. We find out that we also have a noose around our neck, and Leviathan makes use of it. We're hanging, but we finally begin to meet Leviathan's nobles one by one.

Glasyal plots (and ends up hanging for it), Foras argues with him, along the way we learn that Leviathan needs us in his plan, and, you know, maybe killing us isn't the smartest thing he can do. Only Barbatos realizes that maybe it's a good idea to stop hanging us like wet laundry. He's the only one so openly nice to us.

Remember that.

Another fun fact, our MC is of medium height (~160 cm I guess). Leviathan is 187cm, Foras should be similar. I only noticed this because I myself am 180 cm so they are not so strappingly tall for me.

Foras wants to take us away from Levi and explain everything calmly, but the king does not agree. We learn that the guys know where the seed from the Tree of Knowledge is. We're supposed to go with them, and we have about a 50/50 chance of survival. Also, we have the opportunity to see a very rare phenomenon, a joking Leviathan.

Sweetie.

Colossally shortening the rest, the cavalry arrives! You didn't have to. I haven't had time to fuck them yet.

And this cavalry is very much at odds with the nobles of Hades. Most of the time is them arguing. Fortunately, they didn't kill each other…

...because Barbie decided to kill us.

Barbatos is poisoning us to force Bimet and Valefor to join the plan. While we are unconscious, we have flashes of Leviathan's past, which is too sad to analyze considering that we are about to jump to hot scenes now. Besides, most of us already know what this is about. Experience it for yourself. Really. We also learn that not only angels experimented on children, and a little about Mammon's childhood.

In the end, we learn that in Ch6 we must visit the abandoned laboratory in Tartaros, where the seed from the tree of knowledge should be, because as Solomon's descendants, we may be the only ones who will not be killed by it.

Ch5 - VALEFOR H-SCENE

(I really wanted to post CG from Valefor's scene here, but I don't know if Tumblr will block it.)

TIME FOR DESSERT!

Bimet is the first to realize that we lack devil energy. He wants to take care of it, but Valefor brushes him off, sends him to scout, and overall Bimet is our wingman, what a bro lol

Since we are away from Satan and Gehenna, we cannot summon Minhyeok's room. MC thinks she's outgrown it anyway. So we can count on the next scenes to be more and more creative.

It all starts with us telling Valefor that he reminds us of Mammon. And what a beast it brings out of him.

And he loves it.

...aaand then, someone wants to interrupt. Bimet informs us about this and goes to chase them out. Valefor stands with us at the door to see if anyone else is coming. Yes. Naked. With us. In us.

Fortunately, no one catches us and after the entire session we fall asleep in our knight's arms.

I really would like to do more screenshots, but tumblr is blocked… and there's one more part to come.

Ch5 - LEVIATHAN H-SCENE

At least you look beautiful and the platform won't block you.

And here's what I love the most. It was sick. I'd love to experience it again.

I would love to make a whole post ONLY about this and just leave the screenshots.

We are in Leviathan's office, and he interrogates us when we feel like we are lacking devil energy. We want to go to Bimet, but do you think our jealous king will allow it? Oh no no no. And of course, his hands land on our chin and then our neck. He doesn't like our hickeys.

We start asking him valid questions like "why are you jealous of us if you hate us?" So he silences us with a kiss. A deep, suffocating kiss. This is also how Leviathan discovers that we gain their energy through "intercourse with the devil".

And how can I not fall in love with this idiot.

The conversation that follows gives us some light on his approach to sex and to relationships in general. Which is… sad. It fits him perfectly, but it's sad. And I would also like to analyze this someday, this character is beautiful and how he's written is even more beautiful, especially from writer's point of view. He does not want the admiration of his people or the hatred of angels. The only thing he can believe and consider to be sincere is that someone's dislike. This is something that might actually turn him on.

At first he rules, he asks questions and he hangs us. And he does everything he can to piss us off. He hands us a whip and lowers us down.

Just disliking him isn't enough, and he works diligently to make us hate him. He insults Minhyeok, us, wishes us dead, and the more he sees our anger, the more he gets excited and talks more. He knows that we are connected to Satan and we will know how to release our anger. On him.

He finally got what he wanted. We straddle him and, with the help of Satan's strength, begin to strangle him. Neither you nor he are gentle.

Also, his words (unfortunately, I already have a limit on screenshots). "Do not bite your lips. Bite mine instead." I beg, let me violate him even more.

Compliment from Leviathan, nice. In the end, we fall asleep cuddled up to him, and he has no intention of giving us up to anyone. As in the case of Sitri, he only opens up to us when we are so unconscious that we do not see his softer side.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

AND THATS ALL! What a ride it was, I hope I was a good guide. One day I will go into the Hades boys in more depth, but for now, let this be a shortcut for everyone who is still struggling with ch5.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb leviathan #whb foras #whb glasyalabolas #whb barbatos #whb bimet #whb valefor #whb spoiler

[yuri-is-online]

Hello hello! Anon here. First of all, congratulations on getting accepted for your courses! Don't worry about trying to balance work and the blog, we will always be here waiting for you. Second of all, your whole Yutu AU has been really fascinating to look through. (Though that may be because of my bias toward Fire Emblem Awakening, as it was what got me into the series) Sorry for the incoming wall of text, but it's been giving me THOUGHTS.

So imagine this: whoever Yutu's dad is (I'll pick Azul for this example because I headcannon his English voice somewhere between Matt Mercer's Chrom and Olivert from The Legend of Heroes games) finds out who Yutu really is. You remember that cutscene after Chapter 13 in Awakening, with the Lucina reveal and Chrom has this: "You deserved better than a sword and a world full of troubles. I'm sorry."? Imagine Yutu hearing something like that: the acknowledgement of everything he's gone through, the pain of knowing his dad couldn't do anything and can't do anything more than offer words, and the reality that it might now be really possible to change the future? I imagine Azul breaking down after hearing all that because the last thing he wants to do is hurt Yuu or his son after everything he's been through. Oh goodness, the two of them both need hugs.

Second: did Crowley tip off the Magic Marshalls (because I think he would) and force Yuu to take the blame for his negligence (because he absolutely would)? Now imagine Yutu finding this out and telling his dad. Now his dad knows Crowley is a cheapskate who fobs his work onto everyone else without a second thought. And now he's responsible for having Yuu taken away and starting all this? Knowing the boys and how far they would go for Yuu I'd imagine they don't take that well. In other words, to slightly alter a quote from Regina in Once Upon A Time: "I guess killing a crow suddenly made the top of my to-do list."

Sorry for the wall of text but that's been rattling around in my head for a few days (so make of it all what you will). Hope you're doing well and looking forward to what's next!

-The anon who loves Riddle & Azul

AHHHHH (i feel like I always take forever to answer your asks I am sosososososososososo sorry, this one just drove me crazy in a good good way)

Listen fire emblem awakening was my entire personality for like all of middle school.  The only thing i wanted to talk about was chrobin.  I celebrated Morgan and Lucina's birthdays by drawing them. I think I still have a Cherche x Libra fan art thing I drew on some sheet of paper somewhere in my things because I was SO MAD that no one shipped them and I couldn't find fan art of them anywhere and I just oooooooooooh.  THE WAY CHROM GETS A NEW CRIT LINE ABOUT HOW ANYTHING CAN CHANGE AFTER THE REVEAL???? BECAUSE OF HOW DETERMINED HE IS TO KEEP THAT PROMISE AND GIVE LUCINA A BETTER WORLD???? i just cant be normal about them i am so sorry.  R+A annon I love you, I love you so much for this you made my entire month and possibly my year.  Awakening is also what got me into the series and made me so many friends I just love her so much.  She's an icon and I hope she gets remastered with Sumia either deleted or with a fucking personality.

I should probably sit down and actually write a timeline for myself of events, but since I am free to lean in to the fire emblem pacing, I want to say that monsters from Yutu's timeline start showing up (similar to how the Risen do in Awakening) in the past and stirring up trouble, which leads to an event where Yutu panics and forgets himself in his desperation to protect his dad.  The main way the future kids always proved themselves was by showing their mother's wedding ring, but Yutu doesn't have that so really it's just up to his dad to see someone who looks like him and Yuu blended together, supposedly from Yuu's world using magic and above all else crying out and driving up his own blot levels to protect him calling him dad. For Azul! Yutu it's especially painful, he feels like he already knows what his dad is going to say. That he's disappointed in him. That he has no idea how they could possibly be related. That he hopes in this future he turns out to be different. But that's not what happens.

Before Azul overblotted he was quiet. There's a similar quiet over him now, a similar look of tense surprise, but Yutu- no- his child doesn't know that. His child is looking at him in fear, in worry for his reaction or his safety he doesn't know but he knows the way those tears start to form. Azul knows the quiver of the lip and the shriek, of all the things he could have passed on to such a treasure.

"You deserved better from me." Because it's true. He might think of himself as a work in progress but he still thinks he has quality; he would have done research, read every book he could get his hands on, taken classes, anything he would need to do to be a good father, a worthy partner. Anything. "You deserved to have the world within your grasp, not whatever shadow of a future and a father I left you with. I am so sorry." He does not expect Yutu to grab him and hold him like he's still somehow worthy of his love, but Azul can't fight the urge to grab back, to stroke his son's hair and let the tears fall on his suit without any care at all. I'm here. It's ok, daddy's here, daddy's got you, he won't let anything happen to you.

As for your second question, I did not really write Crowley like that no. It was more like he was the first person mysteriously arrested after the Magical Marshall's decided to finally do their job. I was writing it like they wanted to ship Yuu away to cover up for their own incompetence in preventing seven overblots instead of properly investigating what might have caused that. He's not completely innocent though, so yes. The boys do not take it well at all. And please do not apologize for sending in your thoughts, I am so so slow but I love hearing from you.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #azul ashengrotto x yuu #azul ashengrotto x reader #riddle and azul anon

[jilixthinker]

embryos

☆ MASTERLIST ☆

PART 1 PART 2

pairing: felix × jisung

genre: angst, supernatural, smut

summary: "purity. those who possess it can have the access. it's like a key. only the pure souls who die in your world can enter in mine. the only requirement is a body. flesh in exchange for the eternal sun".

word count: 5.5 K (in part 1)

content warning: depression, death, mentions of suicide, pain and sufference, parallel universes, smut, jisung and felix are so in love it hurts, eventual happy ending

a/c: i wrote this a few years ago and never finished it, but i cared so much about the idea itself that i forced myself back to finally put an end to it. i still don't know how many chapters i will divide this into, but i guess it will be 3/4 maximum. please, enjoy it at least half as much as i did ♡

I have never been a diamond. For as long as I can remember, I have always sided with the useless. Many have tried to make me face who I am, and still, the only thing I could see were black eyes and no intention to exist. Even after years, when I look in the mirror, my image continues to show me something I do not recognize as myself. I never wanted to shine, I was always at the bottom of a hole. Never a diamond, just a lightless opal. Strings pulling a puppet without someone to maneuver it. A reflection.

Jisung wakes up the way incongruents do. He opens his eyes, blinks twice, maybe three times. As the light overbearingly invades the room, he curses and swears at everything around him. If he knew more than one language he would probably curse in that one too. He throws his legs off the bed and slowly stretches them. He arches his back like a cat and feels his vertebrae snap as if they were moving away from each other.

The first foot on the icy floor is traumatic, as always, and the second is certainly no better. With shuffling steps he makes his way to the window, the cause and fault of all that light, and behind the wide-open sashes he finds a busy Seoul, more alive than ever. Jisung snorts contritely and pulls the small rope that holds the blinds up. Only when the room stagnates in a lazy half-light, he lets out a sigh of relief. He takes two steps toward the mattress and for a few seconds he thinks about throwing himself back on it, fuck all commitments, classes, university, and fuck his phone that just decided to ring.

Groping around, with his eyes still half-closed, he slips an arm under his pillow and looks for the cause of all that noise. He brushes against the cover of his cell phone, which slides a few inches forward, slipping from his fingers. Oh, that's perfect. Thank you. When he finally manages to grab it, he unlocks the call without even looking at the screen.

"No".

From the other line he ears a grunt and a cough, then an overly deep voice.

"No, what?"

Jisung rolls his eyes and sits on his bed, crossing his ankles and shaking his head.

"Minho?"

"No, your majesty the queen. I won't take a no as an answer from anyone, especially not from you".

More noises in the background. Jisung thinks he hears a slap, another grunt, and the squelching sound of a kiss.

"Jisung? Sorry, that animal took my phone from my hands while you were answering me".

Another voice, much more graceful and alert than the previous one, rings inside his ear. Jisung barely pulls the device away while looking up.

"Do we want to continue with all this whining or are you going to tell me why you called me? I'm quite busy".

"Busy? Are you jacking off? Anyway, I heard you answering no. And you know I don't accept a no as an answer from anyone, especially from..."

Jisung stands up from his bed and stumbles over a slipper. Not that balance has ever been his best quality.

"Did you and your boyfriend decided to talk the same way to irritate me endlessly? Because you always do it without even trying, just for you to know".

The voice squeaks in a distinctly offended tone, and Jisung can imagine his interlocutor's lips curving into a grimace.

"Han Jisung, if you don't get your ass out your house and get ready in twenty minutes, I swear to God I will set fire to your life and everything I can find in it. You cannot miss another class. That is mandatory".

The sound of the closed signal wakes Jisung up from the morning fog. He runs a hand over his sweaty face and, with the phone still wedged between his shoulder and head, he whispers.

"Good morning to you, Chan".

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

After twenty minutes and many other curses, Jisung is standing outside of his elegant building. His lace-up shoes, combed hair, and an off-white shirt shine as if lit by stage spotlights. He glances at the expensive watch he wears on his wrist and he thinks that, if impressions were always right, then he would be a spoiled daddy's boy with a beautiful girlfriend and a perfect life. Instead, he reflects bitterly as Chan's car pulls up in front of him, he is a daddy's boy who hates his privileged status, with no one beside him and a nuclear explosion always about to burst his brain. But there is no need to worry. Impressions are everything.

"You have awful dark circles".

Jisung slips into the back seat of Chan's expensive car. He tosses his shoulder strap and smiles sarcastically at Minho.

"I wouldn't worry about other people's dark circles with an ugly face like yours".

Minho bursts out laughing, slowly driving back into the lane. Jisung leans toward the seat in front of his, hugging the backrest.

"Someday you will explain to me why you always let him drive your car".

Chan turns to look at him and pinches his nose. He does this on purpose to make him nervous because he knows how much Jisung despites physical contact.

"Because I can recognize my limits, unlike you. And don't try to deflect the topic. You missed a week of classes, the professors were starting to get impatient, and I couldn't take notes for the three of us. Can you explain what the fuck were you doing?"

Jisung shakes off his best friend with a vacant stare.

"The three of us?" He asks, sidestepping the question.

"You know that this animal", Chan reaches out to point at Minho "does everything but paying attention. However, an answer would be more than welcome".

Jisung huffs and crosses his legs against the seat in front of him. He does not want to answer. He has no reason to justify his absence from classes. He did absolutely nothing during that week. He procrastinated everything that could be done, ate very little and showered even less. He spent all his time lying on his huge bed in his huge house, alone, looking at the ceiling and thinking about how his life was going in a completely unfamiliar and negative direction. Starting with the university that had been chosen by someone else, his house that had been delivered to him already furnished, and all the relationships that he had that now seemed false, distant, and unattainable. Jisung felt like his essence was been split against his will and another person was living his life. His real self was behind a mirror, imprisoned and motionless, watching him silently, without uttering a word.

He closes his eyes and presses his fingers to the junction of his nose.

"I had a fever, I couldn't get up".

Chan sighs. He doesn't believe him for a moment, but insisting with Jisung is like yelling to a mountain to get up and walk.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Minho pulls over near the curb to let Jisung and Chan off. He said that he will not join them. He has an interview with a colleague of his parents who may decide to take him as an intern. Chan places a kiss on his boyfriend's lips. A kiss that, according to Jisung, lasts a little too long considering they are not alone, and then he runs into the cafeteria next to the university to get them two iced americanos. Jisung picks up his briefcase and smooths out the creases on his blue cigarette pants.

"You are not well".

Minho is looking at him as people may look at an underfed dog on the side of the road.

"Why do I feel like this is not a question?"

Jisung gets out of the car and closes the door, then walks over to stand next by the other boy and he scrutinizes him for a few seconds. Minho works as a model, it's inevitable for him to be attractive. He has muscular legs, fair skin, and big eyes. But Jisung knows that's not the reason he was hired. The truth is that Minho knows exactly what he wants, from everything. From his job, from his relationship, from life. He has a very strong determination that is impossible not to notice in his gaze.

Jisung instead, and he turns around to look at his image in the rearview mirror, has the gaze of someone who does not even want to be noticed.

"It wasn't. It was an observation".

"I don't need any help".

"I know. You and I are the same".

Jisung bursts out laughing, his laugh drained of any sort of amusement.

"You and I have nothing in common, for your luck".

Minho smiles at him accommodatingly as he places one hand on the steering wheel and one on the gear. Jisung steps out of the car and onto the sidewalk.

He looks at his reflection on Chan’s shiny red car. He can barely recognize the lips he was so proud of, even if it’s ridiculous to think about it now that it seems like centuries have passed. They are a lurid, wispy copy of what they used to be. He has absolutely no recollection of how long it has been since he last kissed someone with that mouth. There is not a single time he can look at himself without a sense of nausea pervading him from head to toe and forcing him to look away immediately. Despite his best efforts, however, his image haunts him wherever he goes and whatever he does.

A rather violent push wakes him up from his thoughts. Minho is still in front of him, huffing because the light is still red and preventing him from moving forward. Jisung turns his head to see where the push came from. He catches a glimpse of the back of a boy who is quickly walking away.

"Hey!"

He yells at him loudly enough so that the latter can hear him above the infernal noise of the traffic, but the boy keeps walking fast, almost quickening his pace.

Jisung moves forward and decides that no, he absolutely does not want to be ignored like that by someone who has just run into him.

"Hey!", he repeats, and starts running until he finds himself behind him. A few meters behind, the green light finally lets Minho turn on the engine.

"I'm not saying you have apologize, but at least you could turn around".

Jisung grabs the arm of the rude stranger who quickly walks into the crosswalk, dragging Jisung with him. He doesn’t even give him a glance and doesn’t turn around.

Jisung opens his mouth and now he is sure that he will not continue to be so kind if this guy is going to avoid him. He absentmindedly hears Chan's footsteps coming out of the cafeteria and he's about to tell him to wait for him just a moment, just long enough for him to clear a few things up with the stranger who has, he's pretty sure, hit him on purpose.

Instead, his ears catch only the sound of the two coffee cups slipping down from his friend's hands and a shrill quiver. He just has the time to turn his head and see Chan with his mouth wide open and his eyes terrified, standing motionless on the sidewalk, with one hand extended in his direction.

"What..."

But he does not have the time to finish the sentence because he feels a tug from the stranger he is still grabbing by the elbow, and then a dull pain.

The last thing he senses is an immense red stain in front of him, smell of burning tires irritating his nostrils and a loud ringing noise in his ears. Then nothing.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

beep beep beep

-Jisung-.

Jisung hears a familiar voice calling him. Jisung? Was that the right name? His ears do not react. Another low sounding voice echoes around him.

"Jisung. Come back. We won't let you go".

Something touches his face, very lightly. A deep breath. Jisung tries to figure out in what position his body is placed. He feels forced into something even though he is almost certain he is lying down. He seems to be missing a piece, a part of himself. There is a strong foreign smell of disinfectant alcohol. He tries to open his eyes but cannot find the right muscles to do so.

"Please".

The first voice, the softer, more familiar one, continues to speak to him. He feels a hand caressing his face and eyelids. Once he feels that pressure, he finally identifies where his eyes are and manages to blink once.

"He is waking up".

It takes him a few moments to bring the scene into focus. There is too much white and the light is glaring. He sees, first blurred and then increasingly sharp, three faces leaning over him. Two of them he recognizes, one of them he does not know to whom he belongs. He closes and reopens his eyelids several times until he completely focuses on his surroundings.

"Where..."

He tries to speak but his voice is unfamiliar, as if he had just finished working in the mine. He coughs and regrets it bitterly a second later. Every breath causes him a painful twinge in his chest.

"You are at the hospital".

Chan speaks to him with shining eyes. Jisung turns his head and sees several tubes attached to his arm.

"What?"

Minho curls an arm around Chan's waist and pulls him close. The doctor, the man whose face he did not recognize, checks the IVs and the monitor beside his bed.

"Talk and move as little as possible. The more you try to rest the faster we can discharge you".

He gives him a smile, then looks apprehensively at the two boys next to him and leaves the room.

"What", repeats Jisung panting. His breathing quickens as he realizes where he is.

"You had an accident". Minho squeezes Chan tightly as he speaks. "You crossed the street all of a sudden, I was too close. I tried to hit the brakes but you were..."

He pauses for a moment, closing his eyes. He tightens his lips as he tries not to fidget like his boyfriend.

"Jisung", continues Chan. "I came out of the cafeteria and I saw you crossing the street with someone. The light was green, Minho was a meter away from you, he couldn't stop on time. He literally drove all over you. You were in a coma for a week. I, we thought ..."

His words are interrupted as he begins to cry his body shaking violently.

One week. One week of coma. Jisung's eyes are wide open and he feels his heart stop.

"We thought you wouldn't make it".

Minho's voice is terribly serious. It is obvious that he feels responsible for what has happened.

"What do I have now?".

The voice seems not to belong to him, as if it came from miles away and he heard only its distant echo.

"You have nothing, that's what no one can understand. You should have your pelvis broken, together with all your ribs, arms and legs. You should have a head injury. You should be dead, really. They did all the checks on you as soon as you got here. Nothing came up. In fact, you weren't even really in a coma. It was like you were asleep. No one has given a plausible explanation, Jisung. It seems like a miracle".

At those words, Chan detangles himself from his boyfriend's protective embrace and collapses on Jisung, crying on his neck and caressing his shoulders and all the parts he can reach.

"I will never be able to forget the noise the car made when it crashed into you. Never".

Minho lowers his head and begins to tremble as well before slumping down in the chair beside the bed. Jisung just lifts his arm to let it rest on Chan's head and stroke his hair. The movement costs him immense effort.

"It's not your fault, Minho".

Minho sinks his hands into his hair and a few tears line his cheeks.

"Yes it is. I should have gone slower, I should have tried to stop earlier, I should have..."

Jisung raises a finger to silence him and shakes his head very slowly. No, he mimes with his lips, it's not your fault. Chan seems to recover and looks up at him.

"I don't think I've ever been so afraid in my life". he whispers and caresses Jisung’s sweat-soaked forehead.

Jisung closes his eyes. He feels his head bursting as if he had a crowd of people inside of it, jumping and banging their feet on his brain.

A week asleep in something which is not even a coma. Nothing broken, no repercussions. Like it never happened. It seems so unreal to him that he thinks he's going to wake up in his room, with the alarm beeping annoyingly and no will to go to class.

Then, in a second, a thought hits him on the spot and he stiffens.

"There was another person. There was another person with me".

It’s little more than a hiss, but Chan and Minho hear him. The two boys look at each other, and Jisung clearly sees something snap. He can almost hear the sound of it when Chan takes his right wrist in his hands, gently.

"The other person died".

Jisung does not sleep that night and neither does the following.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Jisung is discharged three days later.

His parents called him from the US. The line was bad and he couldn't say much. Not that he had much to tell, he couldn't remember anything, and he wouldn't have wanted to hear their voices anyway. Their son could have died in a car accident, and they didn't even care enough to take a plane to visit him. But he expected it after all. In fact, he is not even that disappointed when he finds out that Chan and Minho were the only ones staying with him during the days he was unconscious.

Jisung decides not to ask the other boy's name. He simply cannot. And even though he does not believe in the existence of God, he thanks him. He thanks him all the way home, with Chan and Minho attached to him, afraid to let him move. He thanks him for seconds, minutes, hours. He thanks him, but not for being alive. He thanks him because he didn’t see his face. If he had, if the boy had turned around when he grabbed his arm, his face would have been sculpted in his mind like a firebrand.

But he didn’t see it, and that allows him a sort of detachment, some dignity. It spares him some pain. That’s why he is grateful to a God in whom he doesn’t even believe. Maybe Jisung will be able to move on without the remorse hunting him, reminding him that if he hadn’t chased him, if he hadn’t screamed and touched him, the boy could still be alive. alive. alive. alive.

"Jisung".

Jisung looks away from the buildings flowing behind the cab window. Chan smiles at him. Minho, two days earlier, confessed that he destroyed the car. He would never be able to get into it again after the accident.

"I'm fine". he answers to the unspoken question.

In fact, it's not even a lie. He is fine, he feels no pain whatsoever and he is able to move perfectly as nothing ever happened. But then he remembers the nape of that neck, the slim waist, the thin arm he grabbed, and he realizes that no, he is not fine at all.

They get outside of his building a few minutes later. Jisung stares at it, standing imposingly in one of the most luxurious parts of the city, and inside he knows he doesn't deserve any of that.

"I'll walk you upstairs".

Chan takes his hand and tries to open the door, but Jisung pulls him back and forces him to sit back in his seat.

"No need. I can go. You guys go and rest".

"Jisung, I will not leave you".

Chan crosses his arms over his chest and looks at him seriously, with a worried frown in his voice.

Jisung knows he just wants to protect him, but Chan doesn't understand how much he needs to stay alone with himself and his thoughts.

"But I need to be alone".

Minho nods understandingly and holds his boyfriend against his chest.

"Call us if you need anything. You know we are here".

Jisung forces a smile. Minho looks at him and he knows it's not spontaneous, but he appreciates that he tried despite everything.

"I know. Thank you".

He gets out of the cab with his small bag containing his clothing, medications and tranquilizers, plus a prescription for a psychologist session that he is certain he will not use. The vehicle behind him disappears into the traffic.

Jisung looks around and everything seems so strange, unnatural, and different, almost frightening to him. With a sigh he crosses the threshold of the building and walks down the hall feeling everyone's gaze on him.

Before anyone can speak to him, however, he steps into the elevator and leans his back against the polished wall. He looks up and tries hard not to think about when, an instant before the crash, he pulled the boy against his chest.

When he enters in his apartment, it almost seems that time did not pass. Everything is still as it was the day of the accident. When Minho came to get his clothes he evidently did not touch anything else, and Jisung mentally thanks him for that. Jisung faces the bed, which is still unmade, and throws himself on it carelessly. The mattress bounces under his weight.

The window is closed, but Seoul's afternoon light filters inside from the large living room balcony. Jisung curls up and closes his eyes trying to silence the voices in his head, and he thinks that somewhere in the universe someone must really hate him.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

He wakes up that it is barely dawn. A dim ray, too weak to really disturb him, hits his sleep-wrinkled face and softens his forehead. He has been tossing and turning in bed all night. Not that he thought he was going to sleep, but he hoped that his head would give him at least a few hours of rest before starting to replay in slow motion the full dynamics of the crash. He listlessly gets up and shuffles into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator in search of something to eat.

He picks up a jar of yogurt, but when he looks at the expiration date he tosses it into the dumpster. A black banana falls into his hand. Jisung shudders because he only eats unripe fruit, and he throws that too. Eventually he finds a box of rice cereals buried on the top floor of the pantry. He begins to eat it leaning against the peninsula of the table while chewing slowly and looking out from the balcony. The city has woken up before him, as far as he can hear from the sound of the engines and horns coming from outside. Living on the top floor of a building in Gangnam is irrelevant if you can't have some peace, he thinks.

When his stomach seems to have calmed down, he decides to take a shower. Maybe that will wash away the horrible feeling of heaviness, together with the hospital smell he has been carrying around for days.

He is about to take off his shirt and pants when he hears his phone ringing insistently.

"How are you?"

Jisung lowers his pants and boxers in one swoop while he puts his phone in an impossible position on the crook of his neck.

"As I should".

"And that is?".

"Like shit, Chan".

He hears a soft snort from the other line. He can imagine his friend pacing up and down in his apartment, trying not to wake up Minho.

"Do you want me to come over? You won’t have anything to eat. I'll bring you lunch later".

Jisung takes off his shirt too and stands naked in the half-light, crossing his legs and closing his eyes.

"Thanks but it's not..."

Chan interrupts him, the angry tone clashing with his pain.

"Han Jisung, don't tell me it's not necessary or I swear I'll kick your ass. I'll just bring you lunch. And don't you dare not to open the door. I spent the night thinking about you, all alone in that huge thing you call home, so I expect you to eat whatever I’ll get you. Did I make myself clear?"

Jisung remains silent a few seconds, waiting for his friend to finish his rant.

"You have made yourself clear. But now get a couple of hours of sleep. When I said I feel like crap I didn't mean I'm going to jump out of a window. Okay?"

"Not at all. See you later".

As usual, the sound of the line makes Jisung wake up completely.

"See you later". he murmurs to himself.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The water is warm and reddens his skin. Jisung stands still and looks at the ceiling. For a moment he forgets what did happen up to that moment. For a second he is just Han Jisung, he is twenty-three years old, a law student who has two very good friends, a beautiful house and no problems. A normal guy. Everything looks so right inside that steamy cabin where everything exists in its proper place, perfectly set in every corner of his head.

However, when he slides the transparent door open, everything reverts to its disordered state and evaporates along with the drops of boiling water. Jisung absentmindedly observes the skin of his stomach. There are no marks left to testify the accident, and the IV holes are disappearing from his arms. Perhaps time will heal his thoughts as well.

He takes a towel from the closet next to the shower and he vigorously rubs his hair and face. He has no idea about the conditions of his face, to tell the truth. He has not looked at himself for more than a week.

He places the spongy fabric on a shelf and he approaches the mirror. He crinkles his eyes and thousands of black dots appear in front of him, blurring his vision. He staggeringly leans against the sink and waits until he can see everything clearly again. The lights above the mirror are too bright, and Jisung quickly thinks he needs to replace them.

"I must look terrible". he murmurs to himself, laughing dryly.

"You do not".

A voice clearly resonates inside the room.

Jisung turns icy, motionless. A meaningless echo rumbles with the quick realization that someone is there.

Someone broke into.

Into his house. Into his bathroom.

Jisung breath quickens. He keeps his gaze on the sink, trying to figure out where that voice might be coming from.

No one has the keys to his apartment, he thinks disconnectedly. Only Chan knows where he hides them. But a break-in seems unreasonable to him. His apartment is on the 25th floor of a building which is under constant surveillance.

Then who, how, why

"Who are you?"

His voice gushes out rather controlled compared to the nuclear bomb that has just exploded inside his chest. Jisung barely straightens his back and, from the corner of his eyes, he looks behind him, searching for a shadow that would give him a hint of where the stranger is hiding.

"Look up".

The stranger's voice is calm, gentle. A simple observation.

Jisung straightens up a bit. The voice is not coming from behind, he is sure.

"Who are you?" he repeats.

This time his mask of fake strength cracks blatantly. He takes a fleeting glance at his hands and he is not surprised to find them shaking.

"Why don't you see it by yourself?"

Jisung's brain makes a space-time jump. He is no longer inside his bathroom, but in his parents' house. In the living room, to be exact. He is sixteen years old, with fairly long and neglected hair, and an uncertain smile on his face. His brother is sitting in front of him. He is talking to him.

"When you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation", he tells him, "and you can't make the right decision, you have to consider everything you see as a dream inside your imagination. A dream you are living as the protagonist. You think you don't know what is going to happen, but the only one who decides the fate of the ending is you. Even if you don't know it. Even if the events make no sense. You are the only master of your dream and the only director of your life. So, take a breath, open your eyes and observe. Don't get carried away by your emotions. Watch everything as if it doesn’t affect you personally. Because, at the end, it’s just a scene in the movie you are filming. Twists and turns are inevitable, but if you pay attention you will see that there are small discrepancies between the reels that you change. You just have to watch and breathe. Just that, Jisung. Watch and breathe".

Watch and breathe.

Jisung hears those words blowing in his ears. He lifts his head and, somewhere far away, he hears the ticking of water drops falling on the floor.

In front of him there is still the same mirror framing in perspective the bathroom where he is standing. Watching and breathing.

Jisung watches and breathes.

He watches the reflection of a fair body in front of him, a body with a small chest and narrow shoulders, eyes large and expressive, hair blonde, long and neat.

He breathes what must be liquid oxygen, because he feels it flowing differently inside his lungs, it cannot be just air.

He watches a pair of red lips, a small nose, and milky skin adorned with freckles. A face that almost seems to glow under the light of the bulb. He breathes sweat, and he feels as if it rests on his body in a veil, enveloping him completely.

He watches a shy smile, not bold or opinionated. A smile which is just overwhelmingly sweet.

He watches a face of a stranger he has never seen. And he breathes, breathes blood bubbling unsteadily under his enlarged veins.

The reflection in the mirror is not Jisung. The reflection in the mirror is everything Jisung is not. Because Jisung has a tan body, a broad chest and broad shoulders. Jisung has sharp, dull eyes, wet hair, and pale, wispy lips. His nose is bigger and his skin is dull despite of being damp from the shower. Jisung does not smile under the light bulb. Jisung has something that prevents him from pulling his facial muscles and curling his mouth. Jisung is naked in front of the mirror, yet he is wearing a mask. Jisung doesn’t shine, above all. He doesn’t shine.

The boy behind the mirror watches him and breathes. He watches him and breathes in a way that is the same of Jisung, but so much different that it almost hurts. So he reaches out his hand and rests it on the surface of the glass, as to reassure him.

And that’s when he speaks again, when his voice echoes inside that room, that Jisung knows that he is really what he will never be.

"I have always been here". he says.

Then all the lights turn off, or perhaps it’s Jisung himself that is turning off. He closes his eyes and it almost feels like an abomination because he was finally seeing a light.

The last image he sees it’s a hand on a glass in a bathroom, in a building, in a city whose name he cannot remember.

But that's okay.

Because Jisung believes him.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

©️ jilixthinker, 2023. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

#stray kids #skz #han jisung #lee felix #felix #skz angst #skz supernatural #skz smut #han jisung smut #felix smut #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz imagine #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids smut

[starpirateee]

hi! i'd love to see a continuation of the isekai spies au or the curt joins chimera au. love your work!! ❤️ 💜 💙

I will gladly give you a continuation of the spies isekai, that was a Lot of fun! Sorry this took such a long time to get out, btw, but in the meantime I was asked this:

So I'm going to cater for both, if that's alright!

The time travel idea stuck fast in Curt's mind. It sounded ridiculous on all fronts, but it was the only Hong that made sense. It seemed like they were in the wrong place, though they didn't seem to stand out any.

The real question was how they'd done it. How they'd managed to go from having it out for each other in the middle of the weapons museum, to being here, where it was apparently fine to be ambiguously flirting with the men at the bar.

For now, the idea of how they'd gotten there wasn't the most important point of the moment. He was drinking with the second man to ever try and pick him up, and all things considered, he was having a pretty good time.

For all intents and purposes, Ted was great. Curt just wished that this wasn't a one time thing— that maybe, he'd have another chance to be himself and to be a little free before he and Owen had to find a way back to where they'd come from.

"Does this not, I dunno, bother you at all?" He asked, leaning against the bar and ordering another round.

"What?"

"This. Seeing someone once, talking like this, and then never seeing em again?" It had never bothered him before, but his dealings were strictly professional and never meant anything.

Ted raised an eyebrow. "You think I'd have asked you out if I didn't think you'd be a one off? You're not the first, man, and I'm pretty sure you won't be the last..."

Curt frowned, his brow creasing as he took a sip of his drink. Ted noticed his expression and shot him an amused glance. "What? That bother you?"

"More than it does you, apparently... It just feels— weird..."

"Oh, you're the type who ain't shy for commitment... You with someone?"

Curt hesitated. In the most literal sense of the word, he was with someone. He'd arrived with Owen, and he was still here. But in that specific sense that Ted was asking about, he wasn't with Owen anymore. Hadn't been for years...

"No, but I was..."

"How long?"

"Five and a half years... Something like that."

"Jeez, not bad..." if he had to guess, he'd have said Ted genuinely looked impressed. He'd leaned forwards a little, and his eyes had went wide. "Special type?"

"Yeah, for ages he was the only one." And it was both dangerous and a comfort to remember Owen as he used to be. All those late nights on the floors of cheap motel rooms, all the uttered words they'd only ever whisper to each other... That was sacred. "But, y'know, those things aren't meant to last."

Ted held his glass out in toast to that. "Hear that, pal. What was his name?"

"Owen."

"Ehh, fuck Owen." Ted had uttered that so confidently that Curt almost choked on the drink he was taking. He laughed, taken completely off guard, and even Ted chuckled. "No, I'm serious! You want commitment outta life, I'm sure you won't have any trouble in finding someone, nice guy like yourself."

"... Thanks," Curt smiled as he felt his face heat up, ready to blame it on the heat of the room. "What about you?"

Ted huffed a breath of laughter. "Yeah, that kinda life's not on the cards for me. Got myself a bit of a reputation, y'know?"

The conversation spanned for a while. Curt really started to let himself go, but kept himself in that balance of opening up and revealing more than necessary, out of a force of habit. Eventually, he and Ted parted ways— Curt was implicitly told that it should feel amazing to walk off a conversation with a guy's personal phone number— and he immediately found Owen again. After all, there was a lot to catch up on. Owen was a familiar face in a sea of strangers, and he'd been the one to propose that they stay by each others' sides.

Needless to say, Owen didn't look impressed when Curt found him. It wasn't like he'd caught any of the conversation, but it had been one hell of one, and that desperation was not a facade that was easy to keep hold of. Trying to act like he was upset about Curt supposedly "standing him up" was way too beyond him.

He had finished Curt's pint too. Frankly, he needed it. And Curt didn't look too offended, so it was no more than terrible American beer under the bridge. The two of them left the bar after, not a word between them until they were a good distance from the premises. Then he turned to look at Curt, half curious and half bitter. "So, how was he?"

Part of him genuinely wanted to know what that kinda of freedom felt like. What it was like to get that close in a room full of people who didn't think twice. The other part of him had seen past all that and just hoped that leaving him hanging for all that time was worth it.

Curt's eyebrows quirked. "Ted? He was great. Real nice guy. Why? That bother you or something?" He shoved his hand in his pocket, feeling the coaster on which Ted had written his number. Quite the unorthodox method, he had to admit, by quite charming all the same.

"Bother me? What do you think I am, twelve years old?"

"Jealous that I could pull before you?"

Yes. Partially. Those words would never leave him, but he thought it nonetheless. "Sod off, my god, you're a child."

Curt smirked. "Anyway, since that's clearly getting to you, I— uh, got what you wanted."

"What, you found out where we are?"

"Yeah. We're on some island in lake Michigan. Hatchetfield." He felt himself absently crease the corner of the coaster, and removed his hand from his pocket quickly.

Owen hummed. "We weren't in the states when we started this, we were in the middle of fucking Europe. How the hell did this happen?"

"That's the part I don't know. Y'see, I think we're gonna have to check the date, too."

"Why's that?"

"Ted called my Bel Air "vintage"."

"Hold on, what?" Owen stopped in his tracks and thought that over. "But you've had that thing from new, and that was only a few years ago..." His eyes went wide. "Oh lord, we have to find a newspaper."

Luckily, that wasn't a hard thing to acquire. Owen dipped into one corner store, and came out with a newspaper folded under his arm. He and Curt opened it together, and his eyes immediately landed on the topmost header.

"Oh my god..."

Judging by that reaction, Curt had seen it too. They exchanged a glance, letting their shock speak for itself, and then glanced back at the paper to make sure they were seeing the same thing.

"Owen, am I reading that right?"

"I think you are, Curt. I.... Think you are." 1962 was no more. Owen had to put his jealousy aside for a moment, because he realised that things were truer than he thought when he said Curt was the only person he had as a cornerstone.

The two of them would have to put their differences aside too, even for a little while, because the truth of the matter was plain. Curt's car was vintage. Men must be allowed to get with other men. Constant economical changes meant it was probably normal for beer to be that price.

The date was June 7th, 2019.

The two of them were stranded in the States, some near sixty years from the time they knew.

#spies are forever #saf #curtwen #agent curt mega #owen carvour #ted spankoffski #hatchetfield #starkid #void offering #star mail #nova's tags → #i've been involved in a few conversations lately about how fruity ted should be #if canon isn't gonna make him fruitier i sure as hell will #he's got hideous fashion sense and 0 rizz but god damn if he isn't the zestiest mf alive #just wanted to mention that so you have a mental image here #&& let it be known that i've unironically named them spy iced tea. they've kinda become iconic

[sebastiansluts]

Would you do bucky x plus size reader with “don't be shy now, sit on my face” & bucky gets angry/feral that she’s denying him what he wants? Like maybe he has to somehow force her to do it? Thanks, love ur writing!!!😘

I hope this was okay! And thank you so much, I really appreciate that!

Bucky Barnes x Reader; plus size!reader, f receiving oral sex, face sitting, slight smothering

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

Bucky was laying in the bed naked, hands behind his head, waiting for you after a shower. He grinned at you as you stood next to the bed, a towel held up in front of you, trying to decide how best to curl up to him.

"Don't by shy now, sit on my face," Bucky said playfully, mismatched hands reaching out for you, but you dodged them, only managing to grab your towel from you.

"Bucky! Stop, that's sweet, but no," you shook your head, hand out for your towel.

"Doll," he growled, leaning up on one elbow, grip firm on your towel. "I said, 'sit, on my face. Don't think I can make that any clearer than if I grabbed you and sat you on my face myself. I will if that's what it takes, I'm just making sure you know that."

"Bucky, please, be serious," you huffed, sitting down next to him on the bed.

"Alright, guess we're doing it my way," Bucky grumbled and sat up, his arms bulging as he lifted you farther back onto the bed, turning you over to your knees and getting you to straddle his hips. You grinned, thinking you were going to ride him, but then his hands were digging into your ass, pushing you until you had no choice but to stumble forwards on your knees, all the way up to his face.

"Bucky, I'm not sitting on your face, I'll suffocate you or break your nose, or both, knowing me." Bucky just glared up at you, pushing you up until your pussy was directly above him.

His hands slid up your thick thighs, spread around his head, wrapping his arms around them and pushing at your stomach until you had to bend, his strength far greater than yours.

"Bucky!" you cried, but he ignored you, pulling on your thighs until you were hovering inches from his mouth. He breathed hotly on your pussy, then slowly stuck his tongue out and licked your folds. Your body shuddered and you fell forwards against the headboard, grasping it as Bucky growled, and yanked you hard.

The headboard creaked as it swayed, then thunked back against the wall when you lost your grip, falling onto Bucky's face.

His reaction was instantaneous. He became a man possessed, face completely pressed into your pussy, sucking and licking, pulling you even harder onto him.

You couldn't help it, you moaned as you ground yourself down onto Bucky. You tried to lift off to let him breathe, but he wouldn't let go of you, letting himself be smothered for a moment, his hips twitching.

Bucky let you press up for about two seconds, before he was pulling you back down, slurping at your cunt like it was the best thing he'd ever had and would never get his fill of it.

"Bucky! I- oh fuck, I'm gonna come," you warned, and tried to raise up again, but he held on, determined to wait you out. He thrust his tongue into your pussy then swirled it around your clit, sucking and biting lightly.

Your thighs shook, pressed tight around his head, muffling his hearing, but he could still make out the sounds of you moaning, his favorite sound.

You shook as you came, thighs squeezing Bucky's head tight, making his eyes roll back as he came too, shooting across his stomach and chest as he drank you down.

Bucky finally let you up, and you slumped to the side, legs still wrapped around his head, resting more on his broad chest now.

"That...is why you sit, doll," Bucky panted, metal hand slapping your thigh lightly.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x plus size reader #smut #no y/n #reader insert

[drplantboss]

On Shadow working for G.U.N. and “Never Turn Back”

I’ve seen a lot of people criticizing the fact that Shadow works for G.U.N. at the time of Sonic ‘06. Most people have the argument that “G.U.N. is the organization that killed Maria!” Their logic is that he shouldn’t be willing to work for the organization that killed his best friend. I have a few problems with that take. 

The first is that it fundamentally isn’t the same organization. It’s been 50+ years since that happened, and the current head honcho of G.U.N. is someone who was also personally traumatized by Maria’s death. While the Commander and Shadow had their differences in Shadow the Hedgehog, that was mostly over a misunderstanding and those events aren’t even solidly canon. I personally perceive the first 10 endings of ShTH05 and the events that lead to them as all hypotheticals; only the final “true” ending actually happened. In that case, they may have never actually confronted each other initially. 

The other reason is because of what the entire arc Shadow underwent in his titular game achieved. Shadow learns not to dwell on the past. He learns that he needs to keep moving forward, and never turn back. This is not a covert theme, either; the ending theme of ShTH05 is literally the track “Never Turn Back” by Crush 40. It happens to be my favorite Sonic vocal track because this song just fits Shadow’s ending so perfectly here (plus it’s a banger). I recommend you listen to it yourself, but I’ll mention the relevant lyrics here. Let’s go through the first verses.

It's been a long, rough road

And I'm finally here

I move an inch forward

Feels like a year

Everything I feel seems so unreal

Is it true?

Is it true?

I take one step forward

And two steps back

Got a hundred thousand pounds

Sitting on my back

Up, down, all around

Don't know quite what to do

To get through

Shadow is burdened not just by the title of “Ultimate Lifeform” but also by his promise to Maria. All of this, combined with the fact that he only just rediscovered who and what he is, and the sledgehammer to the head that would be finding out you are a biological weapon and a tool that has been used to nefarious ends on multiple occasions would certainly feel like a hundred thousand pounds sitting on your back. This section signifies Shadow struggling with that responsibility — but he’s taking it on. He will help people, he will keep his promise to Maria, he will be the Ultimate Lifeform.

I guess I'm moving all right and I'm on my way

Facing every moment day by day

Take a chance, slip on by, got no time to answer why

Head straight, head straight

What will I become if I don't look back

Give myself a reason for this and that

I can learn, no U-turns, I will stay right here where I'm at, where I'm at

Shadow is starting to overcome some of that pressure. There’s still doubts as he makes the decision to keep moving forward without looking back — he asks, “What will I become if I don’t look back; give myself a reason for this and that.” He very quickly reaffirms the commitment in the next line, but it does show some doubt. At the end of the day, his past still defines who he is. His promise to Maria, his responsibility as a forceful individual still drive him forward and compel him to do the right thing. But the other aspects of his past he is choosing to leave behind.

Well I'm on my way

On my way

On my way

On my way

Here I am,

Made it to the end of you

Never had a chance while I'm around

No! No!

No, no, no, no!

Well, now I'll never turn back,

I'll never turn that way

No matter how life tries to face me

I'll turn the other way

Now and then,

My head starts to spin,

But I'll never turn back again

No! No!

From this moment on,

I am moving on,

And I'll never turn back

Again

The chorus is Shadow’s promise: a promise to himself, to Maria, and to the world. He will never turn back to the weaponized hatred that Gerald programmed into him. He will never turn back to the alien domination of a doomed species. He will never return to thinking he could be an android subservient to Dr. Eggman. From this moment on, he’s moving on. 

Shadow’s entire character in Sonic ‘06 is an affirmation of the development he underwent in his own game. Shadow has a static arc in ‘06; he doesn’t really change at all over the course of the game. However, in that iconic scene you’ve probably heard everyone and their mother talk about, he puts forward the exact attitude I’m talking about here.

“If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight like I always have.” Keep moving forward, never turn back.

Shadow views G.U.N. as a viable method of carrying out his goals — helping people — at the time of ‘06. 

I think this makes sense. If the organization has been reformed since the days of the raid on the ARK, then it’s probably one of the best resources for Shadow to use. Additionally, from within the organization he is far more aware of what they are doing, giving him advance warning if something nefarious is going on within such a powerful paramilitary establishment. 

By letting go of his hatred, he can work for the organization that killed Maria. After all, he saved the whole world when he was originally intent on wiping out humanity. If he can do that, I think he can probably work with an organization that only recently changed its mind about him. 

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #shadow the hedgehog #shth 2005 #sonic #i've got a lot more thoughts about this but i didn't want to write a book #please let me know what you think

[hitomisuzuya]

Let's see: Switch!Fatui! Scaramouche x fem! reader. More Sub!Scara then Dom! Scara!. Mind break. Consensual aphrodisiac. Harsh degradation. Obsessive behavior. Corruption. Can be read as DubCon. Manipulation. I think that's it.

Welcome to the final #Suzu After Dark piece of the night. I look forward to answering any requests left today tomorrow during the day. Bear with me on this one. Tagging @xxventiswindblumexx

Tonight, you had a secret.

And Scaramouche was more than happy to indulge you in your silly attempt at manipulation. Because secretly, he was going to enjoy watching you be fooled and act surprised. He couldn't wait for you to show that one hesitation, playing right into your hands with what he would say.

He just didn't expect to enjoy it as much as he thought he would. You never bored him and you surprised him each day with something out of nowhere, no matter how little pathetic it was.

Especially now.

Scaramouche first started noticing in dismay that something was stirring inside of him. He wanted to put his hat on your head just see how you would look while you sucked him off eagerly under his desk. It took everything he had not push your head down and force his cock into your mouth and against your throat. He didn't want to do that too early, even though you were showing him the opening he was waiting for.

Drool rolled down your chin as you lifted your head to grin up at him. The look in your eyes was hazy in a way that only mean one thing. It was why his normally cold body was somehow burning.

"Scara, I'm so sleepy," you giggled, kitten licking the tip of his throbbing cock. "Can you guess why?"

He glared down at you. "You bitch! You filthy fucking slut! You slipped me something, how dare you!" Grabbing your hair, he thrust harshly into your mouth, making you drool even more as you giggle with glee, coughing and sucking again immediately.

"You are enjoying this like the whore I expect you be," he sounded slightly drunk. "After I paint your throat with my cum, you need to put in your place. But, you don't deserve to swallow. In fact, get up. I'm finished with your pathetic manipulation. It feels good but, it's over now."

As he shredded your clothes and flung his with them, you smirked in a way that Scaramouche loathed but made him feel dizzy in love. It overwhelmed him.

Especially when you reached for his hat, but decided not to, pushing him down onto the bed. You took him by surprise.

You sank down onto his cock, rolling your hips slowly. Scaramouche hissed, gripping your hips to make you think you were guiding your own pace. "You fucking slut!" He gripped your hips harder.

He'd been about to roll you under him when you started to lick and suck on his nipples. His hand dropping, instantly compliant while you rode him. He desperately wanted to choke you in the way you liked.

You stopped to suck and bite deep bruises onto his neck and chest, he threw an arm across his forehead. He hated that he was enjoying your manipulation. He didn't want you to stop.

Scaramouche did nothing but whine and he hated how he sounded. He couldn't even look at you even though he wanted to.

He convinced himself that he chose to indulge you so he could stand hearing how he sounded while he enjoyed you. Mind breaking you was his very favorite thing.

And your manipulation was working as well. And Scaramouche loved you even more for it. It was twisted way to show love.

"Okay slut, I'm close to cumming and so are you," Scaramouche said nonchalantly. "Like I said before, I enjoyed myself but you are done now. Good job, kitten. I am truly impressed!"

Lifting you up on his cock, he practically drooled, transfixed on how his cock looked coated shiny in your arousal. Flipping you over onto your back, he thrust himself inside of you. You gasped, loud, in pain and pleasure.

Your fingers dug into Scaramouche's skin, making him set a rough, but slow pace. Every thrust took you both higher and higher. "Now scream for me and lose all concept of time. You didn't need to be aware of anything else but me, understand."

He was still breaking you and you were still manipulating him.

You only nodded weakly, feeling satisfied and exhausted as he lovingly fucked you dumb.

You and Scaramouche only lived for each other.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #suzu after dark

[lbright90]

From the start

So the last few days I've tried to reflect on where my relationship began with Jesus and God. As I was reflecting I realized that despite me knowing WHO God and Jesus were from a very early age I didn't have a personal relationship with God until 2018. So I'm gonna recap on why this is. When I was little my family was always going to church. My grandparents and mom went to church and I was there with them. Now when I was little we went to mostly Pentecostal churches and I'm not here to put down any denomination for we are not to be divided but come together to form one and worship as one. However, when I was little I would sit there and listen and watch, and there are a few times I could feel the spirit talk to me, but much like I was immature that I couldn't understand fully what the Spirit wanted. Like much today when we take our children to church, we teach them how to behave and act in churc. When I got to my teenage years and joined a local church's choir I enjoyed singing and praising God. I could feel the spirit tugging at my heart but I still couldn't understand what it wanted. It wasn't until 2018 that I found myself in a world where I felt trapped raising a child (he will always be my baby) by myself with a little help of my mother and the father of my son not being as reliable. It was then that a woman I barely knew asked me, "Are you okay?" At that moment I realized that no matter what I did, no matter how much I tried, I wasn't okay because I was pulling the old fake it to you make it. I was physically, mentally, and spiritually drained. That day was when I realized that I can't get no where in this life without asking help from a higher power because everyone else is only human, they make errors, and are not going to be 100% reliable when I need them. So that's when I started going to church. The lady was nice enough to invite me to her church and that's where I met some of the most wonderful amazing people ever who will do anything and everything to help you. Even if it's just praying for you, sometimes prayers do more for you then what money or items every could. After a few weeks it was during a sermon about resentment and holding onto grudges that the Lord worked on me and showed me where I had erred all my life. That I was so quick to hold onto grudges from something that someone did over 20+ years ago and until I let go of that hatred I would never find peace or happiness. That day I left everything to God, I prayed for a resolution to an issue with my father that I had been facing for many years and guess what! God answered. I was able to make peace with my father and let go of some of the hatred I had been holding onto. Now I want to recap on why my faith and relationship with God and Jesus didn't start until 2018, despite me feeling him knocking on my heart multiple times before. When I was growing up, you were expected to act a certain way at church, but there wasn't a lot of explaining. Like we were told you raise your hands to praise but nobody could point it out to me in the bible exactly where it said this. Fast forward to 2018 when one of my coworkers who was studying the bible could point it out to me in less than a 5 minute conversation. Now I'm not putting all the blame on the church from my childhood, or my mom, or my grandparents. It wasn't for them to them force me to have a relationship with God. Now that I'm older and more understanding, if I wanted to really know the answer I should have opened my Bible and really tried to read it and let God's word speak to me. So in the end it was because I wasn't ready to accept God and that I couldn't perceive his will. Anyways I just wanted to share this story with you all and I hope everyone has a good day. John 14:6-7

Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me. If ye had known me, ye should have known my Father also: and from henceforth ye know him, and have seen him.

#jesus #testimony #jesus christ #God #help #love #truth #Christian #Christianity #Bible #Bible verse #bible scripture #word of God

[veliseraptor]

i was forced to talk about dragon age today, now i am forwarding it on to you. tell me about "the best all lack conviction"

oh maaaaan this one is fenders which idk how you feel about, but basically it's the result of me going "90% of the fenders out there is not complicated enough for me, I need it to be messy and slow burn and not one-sided in terms of who is getting offered understanding for their perspective, guess I'd better write it myself!!!" and promptly have taken, what, five years? more? to do that

but I go back and work on it periodically, and I like a lot of what I have actually, though I'm still a long way from getting them anywhere resembling a reconciliation let alone a relationship. but the journey is the fun part anyway so

it's a classic "hostile road trip" setup in terms of plot, because I am the person I am and "hostile road trip" will always be one of my favorite ways of forcing characters to cooperate :D

the title is from "the second coming" by yeats, specifically the lines: "The best lack all conviction, while the worst  / Are full of passionate intensity."

a snippet:

“Mage,” he said harshly. “Are you awake?”  The lack of response suggested not. “Anders,” he tried more loudly, just in case, but that was equally pointless. He breathed out through his nose and rolled him to his back. His forehead was still clear, unbranded, though there was blood dried on his face, probably from a blow to the head.  Fenris looked up at the sky like some help might come from there, but the most noteworthy feature there was still the rift emitting its sickly greenish light.  Rummaging through the Templars’ things he managed to find two healing potions. He maneuvered Anders to a sitting position so he didn’t choke when Fenris poured one into his mouth, and let go quickly when he came awake coughing. “Ouch,” Anders said, when he stopped. “My head hurts.”  “I imagine it does,” Fenris said grimly. “Get up. There might be more of them nearby.” “More of,” Anders started to say, and then started up. “Wait, there were,” he said, and then finally seemed to absorb the carnage of his surroundings. “I missed something.”  “Yes,” Fenris said. “Did you hear me? Get up.” “Okay,” Anders said, and started to stand up only to almost fall over. Fenris had to catch him, but though he braced for the skin crawling, achy feeling being too close to Anders always gave him, it seemed muted, less intense. “I hate magebane,” Anders said. “Makes me feel like a drunk foal, all wobbly and…strange. You’re tingly.”  Fenris gave him a sidelong look, unnerved. “Tingly?” “Mm, yeah,” Anders said. “Sort of. Like…like mint. But on skin.”  Fenris shifted his shoulders and started dragging Anders away, though he didn’t really know where he was going. He couldn’t both keep hold of Anders and hold his sword, so he set Anders down momentarily to wipe his blade clean before sheathing it. Then he pulled Anders up again.  “You’re really strong,” Anders said. Fenris made a noise at the back of his throat. “Stop talking, mage,” he said. “And get moving.”

#conversating #feralkwe #but where are all the dragons #fenders for ts #confessions of a frustrated writer #lise memes #fic excerpt

[frownyalfred]

Hi, Res! Glad you're back! I love your writing (and your posting in general) and missed it. I hope everything good for you and your family!

I was wondering how you come up with fic ideas? That are so natural and realistic yet never came into my mind, like "let the light in" or "end of line" or "come morning light" or–

And also also!!! How you're able to write while you post (like post the first chapter and not have the rest completely planned) and not lose yourself on the plot/details?

Sorry if that's annoying in any way! I I just love love love your writing and I look up to you a lot!

Thanks 🥰🥰🥰

Hi! Not annoying at all, I appreciate you asking. For those fics, they kind of just came to me in slice of life moments? Maybe I can explain below a little better:

let the light in - this came to me while I was thinking about shoulder injuries (my parents both had rotator cuff injuries and PT afterward) and how it must feel very vulnerable for the human members of the League. Especially Ollie who would never want to appear weak because of his stubborn pride. Bruce as a foil/complement made sense as soon as I tried thinking it out. I knew I wanted to write a scene where Bruce inevitably confronts/witnesses Ollie's weakness, and the dialogue kind of spun out from there.

end of line - this fic bloomed into existence because I was pondering what would happen if you full-force punched Clark in the face. If you punch a normal person you can break bones, so what happens when you clock Superman? Again, this was another fic where the dialogue just kind of led the story forward. I knew I wanted it to be outsider!POV for added angst, and swiftly realized I could add in Bruce as Clark's "fixer" for even more hilarity.

come morning light - this one came from me pondering Clark's anxiety at his own near-immortality. I was trying to come up with the best scene to showcase that fear/anxiety, and the morning of his wedding made sense. It also allowed Bruce's careful adjustments and reassurance to shine through in contrast. I also wanted to challenge myself to write something with them both that was purely platonic, which I think I somewhat achieved (mixed reviews LOL).

so I guess a lot of these fics tend to come from "what if" moments, usually prompted by irl events.

As for being able to post a WIP and not know where the story is going, that might be because I am a "feel" writer. I don't think that's a good thing but I digress. I "feel" like I know where the story is going, but I don't know exactly what will happen between point A and point B until I'm writing dialogue. Usually it leads me to the right place, so I know if I post the first chapter without a solid plan for the next 3-4, I can still "feel" I'm on the right path.

Diving in to update is probably the easiest and hardest part of this method. I find that if I re-read the entire fic, my brain generally knows where it wants to go next and the story just naturally continues as I write. However, with borderline that meant I was rereading a 60k fic every few days and definitely wasn't efficient. Plotting the final act of stories generally requires me to abandon this method and reach out to my lovely beta, who is a mensch.

I'm not sure if that was very helpful, but that's kind of an overview of how my brain works while writing. It might not work for you, and that's okay! Try out some different methods and just keep writing! Do it as often as you can, even if it's stupid or never shared or only a few snippets here and there.

<3

#asks #anon #myfic #theresurrectionist #fic #fic writing #fanfic writing #writing tips

[heyidkyay]

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

Part Twenty-Four - Part B

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

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

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

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

Masterlist

“London?”

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

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

“Yeah, Matty. London.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wish it was as easy as that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know what.”

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

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

“I thought-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“His.”

We both knew who I was talking about.

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

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

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

“Why’s he want you gone?”

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

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

“You want to go?”

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

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

A truth for a truth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“London.” George whispered.

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

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

And change they would…

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I huffed a mirthful chuckle, “Sorry.”

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

“See, I have this friend…”

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

“Might be.”

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s nice, Nana.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, someone was definitely home. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I mulled it over, “I could do that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Over the top? Eccentric? Loud?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t stress.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did not!” I gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I swallowed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You never mentioned singing before.”

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

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

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

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

“You any good?”

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

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

“The next Britney, me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I shook my head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you tomorrow, Birdie.”

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

…

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

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

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

‘He’s half fucking in love with you.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me go.”

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

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

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

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

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

Just get out. 

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you.” I spat back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My name.

I heard her call my name over and over. 

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

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

I kept on screaming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I cried harder. 

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

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

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

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

He didn’t reply.

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

I ached. Everywhere.

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

And where was I? His head screamed at him.

Where the hell was I?

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

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

He startled.

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

He sounded so weak. Voice shaking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck. George, that you, mate?”

Ross.

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

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

Jumped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She did what?”

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

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

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

“Hang on- stabbed? George, what?”

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

A long pause.

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

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

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

“It’s all my fault.”

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

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

——

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

But everyone did.

The police had been by. Twice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

It was finally Sunday. Which meant we were leaving. 

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

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

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

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

“Right then, I’ll go grab my keys.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah. Matty now knew of our little secret. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His mum only sighed.

—

I shifted again for what felt like the umpteenth time. 

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

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

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

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

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

Tough fucking luck, hey?

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

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

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

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

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

I laughed at that. “Oh, you’re on.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

Should count themselves lucky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. It does, don’t it?”

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

Smash!

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I shot him a look. “G..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They remind me of you.”

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

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

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

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

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

George smirked lazily, “Right though.”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, that sounded like the best option.

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

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

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

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

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

“On you? Anything would.”

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

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

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

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

“Woke up just before you came in.”

I hummed. Talk about timing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“After you kissed me, you mean.”

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

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

He hummed, unconvinced.

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

“Go get changed, will you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part Twenty-five>

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